justathickblackgirl

[justathickblackgirl]

babygorl

[justathickblackgirl]

eve’s apple

— best friend’s dad! alpha! steve rogers x omega! reader

summary || When Sarah invites you for a sleepover, you expect to meet some regular dad, not the dilf of your dreams.

warnings || unprotected sex. alpha/omega dynamics. knotting. dirty talk. fingering. petnames (bunny). choking. size kink. age gap. orgasm control. stripping. lots of sexual tension. horny thots. mention of divorce. PWP — MINORS DNI 🔞 if any of this makes you uncomfortable then please do not read!

I have decided to not do taglists anymore, so if you wished to be notified of my newest updates please follow @bonky-n-steeb-lib and turn on the notifications!

— happy new year everyone! enjoy your new year’s gift you filthy creatures!

You know you shouldn’t look at him the way you do.

But you can’t help it.

He’s just so breathtakingly gorgeous. His piercing blue eyes, his thick beard, his fucking voice, his well built body, his tall height, his enticing scent. He’s the peak male alpha.

And at the same time, he’s your best friend’s dad.

It’s so forbidden. But probably that’s why you crave it so much.

The same best friend who’s house you’re at tonight for a sleepover. Sarah Rogers met you in your sophomore year and after two years of friendship, you’re almost inseparable.

Steve Rogers is an influential alpha who owned a mansion for a home. When Sarah had excitedly invited you, you had expected to meet some regular dad.

What you hadn’t expected was to meet the dilf of your dreams. You just knew he fucked good. Literally every single thing about that man, from his scent to his behaviour, screamed daddy.

Despite what you wished for, you had to control yourself from pouncing over him every time he came across you. Gladly, the house was big enough that he wasn’t constantly in front of you.

Currently, you and Sarah were lazily eating popcorn while binging random movies. You dug your hand in the tub again, only to find it almost empty.

“Sarah, we gotta refill this.” She finally unglued her eyes from the screen and looked at you. “Yeah I’ll do it.” She seemed really into the movie and you didn’t want to disturb that.

“No no. I’ll do it.” You could see her smile in the dim light of the tv. “Okay. Just go to the kitchen and you’ll find the instant popcorn packet in the top shelf.” She made it sound easy.

But it wasn’t easy at all. The house was a fucking maze and there was no kitchen in sight. You were really just wandering the huge halls with an empty tub in hand.

“Are you lost bunny?” A shiver ran down your spine at the growly voice calling you from behind. You turned around slowly and stared at the huge alpha with wide eyes.

“I…” you wanted to speak, but words refused to form in your stunned brain. Did he really just call you bunny?

You were in a really close proximity from him and you couldn’t help but inhale his rich scent. It was unlike any other and it made your legs weak.

“Did you just scent me?” He squinted his eyes at you and you turned into a puddle at the very instant. You were caught. You really wanted the earth to tear up and swallow you at the moment.

“N.. No.” You tried your best to lie but you knew he saw through it. “Are you lying to me bunny?” He asked with a dry chuckle and you could already feel tears collecting in your eyes with shame.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” you were probably shaking with fear at this point. Steve bent down so that he was at an eye level with you.

“But even if you did mean it, I wouldn’t really mind.” With careful fingers he ran his pointer finger from your chin to the back of your ear making pinpricks of electricity flow.

“Alpha….” You couldn’t stop the words from leaving your mouth. The growl that Steve let out made you bare your neck in submission.

His hand left your jaw and settled it on your neck like a collar. He wasn’t squeezing but neither was it loose. He kept it tight enough so he could feel the steady thrumming beat of your pulse.

His thumb pressed on your mating gland you moaned with parted lips. Taking the opportunity, Steve pulled you into a heated kiss.

With the hand on your neck, he titled your face upwards so he could fuck into your mouth with his tongue. The kiss was filthy, wet and hot and absolutely the way you shouldn’t be kissing your best friends dad.

When the thought plagued your brain, you pulled back and started walking backwards until your back hit the wall. You placed a hand on your heart because it was beating much too loudly.

“We… we shouldn’t be doing this.” You mumbled in a small whisper but loud enough for the alpha to hear. “And why is that ‘mega?”

The way he said your designated made a fresh wave of slick collect between your thighs. At this point you were sure he could smell your arousal.

“Be… because you’re outta my limits.” It was true. He was every omega’s fantasy. Divorced from his first wife, Peggy, years back, he was an unclaimed alpha. An ideal one at that.

“And who said that?“ he walked up to you and braced his arms around you until you were pressed against the wall and caged within his arms. “You do know that I can smell your arousal, right?”

Your face flamed up but there was no where to hide. His scent was thick and the omega in you wanted to bury your face in his neck, but you stopped your primal instincts.

“Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll let you go, bunny.” Your noses were almost touching at this point. The No didn’t form on your lips because you wanted this. You wanted this oh so badly.

This time, you were the one to smash your lips together. Curling your fingers in the soft Henley he was wearing in the house, you held on to him.

It felt as if you were Icarus finally reaching the sun. You knew you’d burn in this, but that’s what you wanted.

Your tongues rubbed against each other as he explored your mouth. His heavy scent was making you go cross eyed. “Come with me.”

He held your hand as he led you to his bedroom. Your popcorns were long forgotten and instead your head was swimming in the thought of how big his palm was in your comparison.

Once inside the room, he pulled you on his lap. His face was instantly buried in your neck and he mouthed at your scent gland while purring deeply.

His hands roamed your body as you wiggled on his lap. When his hands finally touched your skin, you could feel goosebumps rise. “Alpha…”

“Mmm..,, omega, so soft and warm for me. God, I can’t wait to have you.” He quickly placed you back on your feet. You looked at him bewildered, a little disappointed.

“Strip.” Your body felt like a hot wire and you stared at him for a moment before his command seeped into your brain. Your hands shook as you pulled up your shirt.

Suddenly conscious of yourself in front of Steve, you were about to cover yourself back with your shirt but you stopped when you heard Steve say, “Beautiful. You’re so beautiful.”

Happy with his compliment, you finally discarded the shirt and the rest soon followed. His eyes were heavy with lust as he took in your naked form. He too stood up from the bed and removed his clothes much faster than you.

You gawked at his physique with wide eyes. He was the literal epitome of alpha. His thick thighs and broad chest were covered with a peach fuzz while veins were popping out of his bulging arms.

You gulped loudly as you stared at his cock. It was thick and long, just like you’d imagined. The mushroom head was already wet with precum and you salivated at the thought of his knot.

“C’mere bunny.” You walked up to him on wobbly legs as he settled on the bed with his back touching the headboard.

The bed was soft and your knees sank into the fluffy mattress as you crawled up to him. He was quick to pull you onto his lap once again.

His hand once again curled around your neck and you absolutely loved it. It felt warm, protective and possessive and you craved it.

His other hand started playing with the hard peak of your nipples. He pinched and squeezed and rubbed them until you were a whimpering mess.

He further trailed that hand down and you squealed when he started rubbing your wet pussy. Your toes curled as he thrusted two fingers into your wet hole.

“God, fuck. You’re so tight little bunny. Gonna prepare you good next time. I gotta taste that sweet peach now don’t I?” His words and the promise of a next time made you even more aroused.

His fingers were pumping fast within you and the squelching sound they made was downright filthy. “I’m gonna pump this little pussy full of my cum and just fucking watch as you leak it out.”

“FFuuccckkk… Alpha!” You were quivering and whining and all that you wanted now, was more. “You like it don’t you? You’re gonna be dripping by the time we’re done bunny.”

You clutched his shoulders tightly as you were about to lose all your semblance of control. But before that, Steve stopped fingering you. “Steve..!” You complained and he smacked your ass.

“You’re gonna fucking cum on my knot.” He lifted you up by your hips and adjusted you, until your pussy was lined up with his cock.

You both moaned when his thick head entered you. But what you didn’t just expect was for Steve to just let go of your hips the next moment.

“Hhnnggg…” you let out a pornographic moan as you sank down over his cock in a single stroke. His clock was huge and it felt like he was splitting you open.

His hand on your neck started rubbing your scent gland. You felt like you were going to burst with all the sensations. “Alpha… please!”

“Who am I to deny my omega?” He cooed at you. The my omega part wasn’t missed on you and you preened under the attention.

He once again held your hips with one hand while his other didn’t leave your neck, and started snapping his hips up hard. His cock was truly rearranging your guts.

You were like putty in his hands as he fucked into you. You wanted to move by yourself, but you were in too much haze to do that. So instead you completely submitted to him.

“Look at that! My bunny is so cockdrunk that she can’t even move. I bet boys your age don’t fuck like this do they? You need me for this, don’t you?”

You blankly nodded your head while a constant stream of pants and moans escaped your mouth. You could feel his knot starting to swell and you yourself were much closer to coming.

But your activities were paused for a moment by the loud wail of your best friend. “Dad!” Sarah’s voice was loud through the other side of the door.

“Yeah Sarah?” Steve shouted back and started grinding into you. Your eyes rolled back at the sensation, no more caring about anyone else but you and Steve.

You let out a soft moan and Steve was quick to cover your mouth. Gladly the walls were thick enough for her to not hear anything.

“Have you seen my friend? She went out to get popcorns and hasn’t been back yet!” Sarah was clearly worried. But there was nothing you could do at the moment.

“I haven’t seen her.” He was surprisingly much calmer and collected than you were. “Okay.” You could hear Sarah’s footsteps recede as she walked away.

He didn’t remove his hand from your mouth and once again started thrusting up into you. Your moans were muffled by his hand, which covered half of your face and your hind brain was singing with how big and strong Steve was.

“Oh bunny! You couldn’t keep quiet could you? Don’t worry though, I like listening to you moan like a fucking whore while you bounce on my cock.”

His cock was hitting all the right spots and you clenched around him. “You gonna cum bunny? Huh, you gonna cum on your alpha’s cock?” You tried your best to nod and it was enough for him to understand.

“Cum for me bunny.” He commanded and being the good omega you were, you followed. Stars exploded behind your eyes as you came. Your nails dug into his shoulders and your thighs shook with the intensity of it.

“Fuck! You’re squeezing me so well… bunny, fuck!” He for once lost control as he slammed up in you until his knot was buried in your tight heat.

You both slumped down as you rode the aftershocks. You didn’t know how much time passed but you just held on to each other and bathed in the other’s warmth.

You sighed lazily as his knot popped free after some time. You feel the cum gushing out of you but after getting railed by Steve, you honestly didn’t care.

“Hey! You have to go back to Sarah.” Steve insisted gently. You had almost forgotten about her. You sat up from the bed quickly for a second, your head spun.

“Calm down. Do it slowly or you’ll hurt yourself.” Steve could sense the distress within you as your scent soured. “Look at me.” He took your chin and turned you to face him.

“Do you want more of this?” You chewed your lip and pretended to think about it because you already knew the answer. “Yes. I want more Steve.”

A huge smile spread on Steve’s lips and you’d do anything to see it again. “Okay then bunny. I promise you the next time you won’t have to leave so early.”

~~~

“Where the hell were you? I was so worried…” she trailed off when she saw your condition. “Oh my god, what happened? Are you okay?” She asked as he walked up to you.

You and Steve had tried your level best to make you look presentable, but you were sure your hair was out of place and your clothes seemed a little more dirty. You were also wearing Steve’s heavy scent blockers so that Sarah couldn’t smell him on you.

“I got lost.” Was all you answered as you were still in a daze of getting fucked. “Oh but then why you look like this?” You just scoffed at her question.

“You know me Sarah how quickly I panic. I panicked a bit and that’s all. But can we now go to sleep. Please?”

Your initial plan didn’t include sleep, but now you were super tired to even walk, lest watch a movie. “Okay okay. Fine.”

The house was actually pretty big and instead of sleeping in the same bedroom like a regular sleepover, Sarah was generous enough to give you a guest bedroom for the night.

But little did she know that you sneaked out of your room in the middle of the night to cuddle with your alpha.

[justathickblackgirl]

HAPPY MF BLACK HISTORY MONTH

[justathickblackgirl]

Ok but like imagine bully!Toji failling class so he goes to the smartest person he knew his chubby godess that he loves to bully💞

Ugh, I loved writing this. Hope you enjoy.

tw/tags: chubby reader, degradation, fingering, no proofreading

Toji was by no means stupid or bad in school. In fact, he was one of the best in his year, getting straight As without even trying—which was why it was so surprising to see him doing so poorly in his biology class.

His teacher, Mr. Satome, simply couldn't understand how Toji did so well at the beginning of the school year, only for his grades to flop one month into the semester. It was beyond him how it happened but Mr. Satome was dead set on trying to bring his performances to their glory days.

Knowing this, Tojo didn't have a hard time convincing his teacher that what he actually needed was a study buddy, somebody smart enough to motivate him to do better. He was quick to imply that you would be the perfect candidate, and Mr. Satoru agreed, excited to see two of his best students working together.

In less than a week, you were trapped into an arrangement that promised you extra credits at the cost of a few weekly meetings with the school's notorious bully.

The first study date went unexpectedly well. You had been insulted just a few time and Toji tried to pull your hair just once. You were optimistic but as your study dates progressed, he got increasingly ballsy and handsy, not caring if somebody was there in the library when he pulled you in his lap and accidentally brushed over your breasts.

He told you it was the only way he could concentrate and knowing that your extra credit depended on him, you begrudgingly agreed to slip into his lap each and every tutoring session.

One he felt your weight pressing down on his muscular thighs, Toji's arms would come around your waist and plop on the desk, and you'd suddenly find yourself engulfed in his musky heat.

You tried to focus on the textbooks spread out on the table, but he always did something to shift your attention from the biology lessons you were supposed to be teaching to him.

Perhaps that's how you found yourself with your blouse unbuttoned, your plain cotton bra showing, and his big hand shoved between your legs.

Your panties had been snapped from your body a few minutes prior and were carefully tucked into his bag. Two of Toji's fingers were stuffing your pussy, pressing into your bladder each time he trusted them back inside.

"What were you saying?" he asked, a smirk adorning his handsome face. His other hand had a strong hold on your belly, his fingers digging into the chub, making sure you were not going anywhere.

"I-...uh, the heart," you whimpered, your eyes scanning over the pictures, the words blurry around them.

"Come on, nerd. How am I supposed to pass next week's test if you can't even focus?" he laughed, his hot breath tickling your ear and making your lashes flutter.

Your mouth opened but no sound came out. Toni tutted, his fingers moving in and out a couple of times before he wiggled another fingers in. You choked on air, the burning sensation bringing tears to your eyes.

"Please," you begged, fussing on his lap and trying to get away from his hand, but Toji had a secure hold on you.

"Come on, teach me something. You're the tutor after all," he mocked and you bit your lip, your hands clenching.

"I can't focus," you whined and Toji snorted. His fingers slipped out and he brought them in front of your face, showing you the strings of slick that connected his fingers.

"Yea, you're too busy getting off. You fucking slut." Toni didn't wait for you to say anything back. His fingers moved to your clit and he began circling it, bringing you closer to your orgasm than you'd like to admit.

"You gonna stop being worthless once I make you come on my fingers? Gonna teach me something useful?" You whined in response, your hand grabbing his tan forearm. You dug your nails in, hoping it would hurt, but Toji just laughed, his movement increasing in speed.

"No, wait, stop." Your head fell back in his shoulder and with another flick of his fingers, you came. Your legs shook and your pussy spasmed, and for a second you thought you had died and ended up in heaven.

Once your body slumped on Tojo, he rubbed your folds, collecting as much of your cum as possible, and he brought his fingers to his lips. He licked and sucked on one finger, groaning at your taste, before he shoved the rest in your mouth.

"Here. Make yourself useful," he commanded and you couldn't help but comply.

Like always, you didn't do much studying that day, but it seemed like Toji's grades improved nonetheless—and it was all because his sweet chubby classmate that he loved to bully.

[justathickblackgirl]

(O.M.G.P) One Month Grace Period

Toji x Chubby/Plus-Size!Black!Female!Reader

~No Nut November is over, and Toji couldn’t think of anything more exciting than turning you into his free use slut to bring in the new month😘

A/N & Warnings: I’M SORRY YALL I GOT CARRIED AWAY WITH THE STORY IT IS LONG AS FUCK!!! But it’s not just porn with no plot!!! (For those of you that aren’t just in it to get mentally dicked down, I wrote a prologue! The link is below and can be read before you start this fic!)

LIKES ARE COOL, BUT COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE BETTER! PLEASE LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! ALSO DON’T COPY MY SHIT. I WILL KNOW.

Content: Multi-sex scenes, praise/degradation, free-use so dub-con, Oral (f receiving), a small bit of spit kink in there, fingering, shower sex, couch sex, kitchen sex, bedroom sex, unprotected sex, What did NLE Choppa say? MEAT TO MEAT! WALL TO WALL! COOCHIE TO MY BALLS!🗣️ (18+ MDNI)

SONG RECOMMENDATIONS: Freaky Bih from Da A - Louisvt, Fuck The World - Brent Faiyaz, What You Need - Don Toliver, 2AM - SZA, Ambré’s Interlude - Destin Conrade, Animosity/ Dear Xodi - Johnny Rain

Prologue - November 30th

December 1st

12:45 AM.

Your thighs quivered as Toji pounded into you relentlessly, the lewd sound of skin slapping as his precum mixed with your wetness filled the room. It felt too good, you didn’t know whether to scream or just shut up and take it. Between Toji having one arm over you bracing the headboard and the other pushing your thighs back, knees near your chest, you felt yourself getting a little too close. “Oooh- Toji, I’m gonna….oh fuuuhhhkkk~” Toji chuckled at your mewling, “Look at you, only 45 minutes in and you’re ready to cum on my cock like a greedy little slut.” His pace slowed, almost painfully. “I didn’t give you permission to do that just yet, Princess.”Watching his girth slide in and out of you, Toji brings two fingers to the base of his dick where your cream spills out with each thrust and sucks his fingers clean. You can’t help but moan at the sight of something so sinful yet passionate, you clench around him as his slow pace persists. Too far gone and busy chasing ecstasy, you didn’t notice Toji move his arm from gripping the headboard to cradle the back of your head as he leaned his weight into you, with his mouth next to your ear. “Yeahhh you’re clenching around me so tight, you’re such a fucking slut. Taking this dick like the good little bitch you are, you’re so fucking wet for me.” “Unnnhhh~” “Ooohhh, yeah. Yeah?” “Yes-yes-yes~fuccck!” “Come on Baby, I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me~” “Toji don’t make me……fuck…….please…..Toji pleaseee~” His pace picks up, “How hard was that, Hmm? You’re too shy to ask me to cum but you’re making a mess on my cock with no problem.” As his thrusts get harder he cradles your head, blocking it from hitting the headboard, his fingers weaving through your box braids, your floral bonnet long gone, thrown somewhere on the nightstand. You hold onto his sturdy arms for some sort of anchor, as you feel your soul quite literally about to leave your body. You let the sudden wave of pleasure take over your body as you shudder, mouth open, screaming vulnerably, eyes closed, with tears brimming. “Yesss, cum for me, give it to me, give it to me. Ohhhh, Good Girl!”

9:19 AM.

“Ah fuckkkk, that’s it~” Toji hoisted you against the tiled shower wall with your full legs wrapped around his waist as he fucks into you, the supple flesh of your ass moving with ease as he guides you onto him, the steam of the hot shower shrouding the entire bathroom in a thick fog. Your morning routine took a turn when your shower time got sabotaged by Toji and his morning wood. So here you were, getting lifted up and impaled on his dick like you weighed absolutely nothing. Still dazed from the midnight session, the pleasure was intense, and you were honestly, still kinda sensitive. You leaned your back against the warm tiles and pushed your hands on his sculpted chest to brace yourself and lessen the force of the thrusts, but each time you’d lean against the wall he would lean back so your full weight was on him and your breasts were flush against his chest. Despite your voluptuous stature, he was able to manhandle you and throw you around like a simple bag of sugar. One of his many redeeming qualities, and admirable…..but not in this situation. “Come on Baby, you were being so good for me earlier. You sensitive?” You couldn’t speak, and he knew it. Toji got off at the thought of you still being fucked out and a moaning mess. It haunted his dreams all November. Imagining how many ways he could make you cum on him, scream and writhe in pleasure, all while he’s still chasing his first high.

12:04 PM.

You knew the kitchen incident would have to be addressed at some point, but this isn’t how you expected it to go. “Move your fucking hand.” “Toji pleaseeee, you’re gonna make me cum again~” “That’s the whole point, now move your hand and keep your legs open.” You were in the process of making lunch because you and Toji agreed that you both were hungry, but apparently you weren’t on the same page. Toji made quick work of lifting you onto the kitchen counter and throwing your thighs over his shoulders before going to town. Looking down at him from your seated position, his tousled black hair visible as he laps up your juices. “You taste so fucking good Princess~” Toji was wearing you down, every single word out of his mouth brought you that much closer to your next orgasm, “~Thank you”. He stops for a moment to give you a kiss and you moan, tasting yourself on him. “You’re being so obedient” Toji spits, and the long string of saliva slowly trickles down from your clit to your pussy. You look at him full of awe and arousal at how irrationally hot that little trick was. Laughing at your reaction, he spits on his middle and ring finger before plunging them into your dripping pussy. Starting off slowly in a “come hither” motion, he watches as your eyes roll back at the sensation, using his second hand to toy with your clit. “Aww, my obedient little fuckdoll, looks so cute when she’s gonna cum.” FUCK, you couldn’t take it anymore, he’s too good at this. He didn’t even cum yet!

4:32 PM.

“Shiiiiiit!” You cry into the plush sofa armrest as you make poor attempts to squirm away from Toji’s firm grip on your wide hips as he pulls you back onto him. Your ass ripples as he speeds up his pace at an almost inhuman speed, your whimpering and cries growing louder. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I’m gonna cum!” Toji’s brutal pace finally started to falter, something that rarely happens…meaning he’s definitely close. He pulls out, and some of his precum mixed with yours spills out of you. “Not yet Princess, get up for me.” Seeing your dumbstruck state, Toji peels your dazed frame off of the armrest. He sits at the edge of the sofa, legs parted and sits you on top of him with your back to his chest and your legs spread on either side of his. “Theeere we go~”, Toji slides his throbbing dick along your pussy as you shudder, leaning your body back against his in a moment of recovery, resting your head back on his shoulder. He kisses your neck before moving to your ear to whisper, “Here’s what’s gonna happen…I’m gonna finish fucking your brains out, and you’re gonna cum again while I fill you up. Okay?” All you could do was sigh. “Nod, if you understand Princess…” you shake your head subtly still catching yourself. Toji noticed this, and gave you time before snaking his arm around your tummy. “You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?” He slides into you, and you cry out, “Shhh, shh, shh, breathe. You’re okay.” His pace starts to pick up, “Ahhhhhhhhh~” “I knowww, Baby, I knowww, Fuck!” Toji’s words started to slur as he continued to fuck you, a creamy mess pooling at his lap as you both began seeing stars, “Fuuhhkkk you look so pretty like this, shit. You want me to cum inside of you, hm? You want me to fill you up? Turn you into my…..fuck…..my little cumdrunk slut?” “Unnnggggg fuck, Toji, Yeeeeesssss~” You couldn’t help yourself as the tears began to fall, you were in too deep (and so was he), and too far gone to know what the fuck was going on anymore. Your climax washed over you like a tsunami….so strong until you didn’t even realize you squirted all over Toji and went unconscious for 10 seconds. Coming to, Toji was already grabbing a blanket and water for you, “Good Girl, you did amazing cumming all over me like that. I’m so proud of you.”. You smiled, nestling into him as you settled down. Finally, a moment of peace. On the verge of nodding off, you couldn’t help but feel a particular unsettled energy. You look at Toji, who seems relaxed…but not the type of relaxed that someone that just had an orgasm should be. “Toji?” “Hm?” “You didn’t finish…did you?” He looks at you with a mischievous grin, “Not one bit.”

This is going to be a looong month.

[justathickblackgirl]

[justathickblackgirl]

[justathickblackgirl]

fawn

pairing: dark!stucky x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY. kidnapping. noncon/dubcon. only bucky x reader smut. pet names. if i’m missing something important pls lmk!

words: 6.3k

notes: this is what i wrote when my power went out on christmas lmao. if this does well and people like it i’d definitely consider a part two with more stucky smut - just let me know if you guys like this and would read a continuation. 🖤thank you in advance for reading! as always, comments and reblogs are welcome and appreciated!

One click. No flame. Another click. Still nothing. Huffing, you readjust your hold of the lighter. The smell of Christmas already permeating the air, the aroma from the opened but still unlit candle bringing you the slightest bit of ease.

It was cold already and now with the heater out, it was biting. Regrettably your blankets were still sitting in your washer, and with the lack of power, they’d be there until it came back on and you could get them in the dryer.

You made to ignite the lighter again and it finally gave you a flame. Once you had your candle lit, you eased back down onto the couch. The sun was setting and the chill from outside was already seeping into your apartment. Pulling your knee highs back up, you sighed, taking in the darkness that would soon swallow you completely.

So much for finishing that stupid puzzle. You couldn’t see anything. The rattling of the balcony door pulled you out of the silence and had the pit that was already growing in your stomach grow deeper.

Voices from outside, coming from the hallway distracted you from the unpleasant shaking of the door. It was the wind, you knew that, but with each moment, it grew darker and darker and the unexpected noise was unsettling to say the least.

You were alone. And the solitude was welcome, mostly. That underlying, gnawing feeling of loneliness that was somehow always there, no matter how hard you tried to shake it, was starting to get the better of you. Momentarily. Always passing eventually. Or, more accurately, always shoved back down eventually.

The darker it got, you somehow found yourself settling further and further into it. As if it was welcoming you back. The silence, the flicker of the candle, the scent of pine and vanilla softly filling the room. This was okay. This was nice, even.

You felt yourself beginning to doze off, but the cold worked to keep you awake.

It wouldn’t be too long before they got it back on. An hour, tops. Then you could dry your blankets, maybe get a few more pieces of the puzzle put together before you slunk back into bed. A very merry christmas, indeed.

Sun was completely set now, no shadows coming in from the windows. No more watching the swaying of the trees outside. Just flickers of the candle flame dancing along the wall.

Then you heard it again. The rattling. If you had your tv on, or music playing, you were sure you wouldn’t have heard a thing. But in the silence, even a quiet disturbance was audible. Then there was that feeling again. That pit in your stomach. Something’s not right, it called.

Paranoia. That’s all it was.

Intuition, your mind argued.

It was Christmas night, most people were still gone for the holiday weekend, your building near desolate. Who would it be? When do crimes even happen here? It was ridiculous to worry. It’s the wind. Of course it’s the wind.

The creaking that sounded next, though. That wasn’t as easily explained. You froze, just listening. To ensure you heard what you thought you did. Was someone on the balcony? How would that even be possible? You waited. And waited. No more noise. But something was telling you not to let it go. You stayed seated, curled up into the corner of the couch, just staring at the door. You couldn’t see it clearly, the flame not strong enough to illuminate that far from its place on the coffee table. But you could see enough. Enough that as you watched, you suddenly saw the handle move, as if someone outside was opening it.

You always wondered how you’d react in situations like this. Flight or fight, what would you do?

Neither, apparently.

Because you didn’t move. You were like a deer in headlights.

Right, freeze response. You’d forgotten about that possibility. There was another, too, actually. What was that one called? You couldn’t remember.

F..it starts with an f…

The whole while you were trying to think, your eyes were trained on the door. You just watched. Watched as the figure cloaked in darkness let themselves into your apartment. Did they know you were here? Would they care? You weren’t even sure you were breathing as you stayed as still as possible. Maybe the darkness would conceal you. This stranger would take whatever they wanted, and you just prayed the lights would stay out until they were gone. Just be still. Be silent. Not that you could move or make a sound if you’d wanted to. It was like you were paralyzed by fear. The figure didn’t seem to notice you, not even looking in your direction.

The candle. The candle was lit. Was this person oblivious? It was a dead give away that someone was home. The intruder stayed quiet, didn’t seem interested in anything as he walked from the balcony door, across the living room to the front door.

Without thinking, your body was moving of its own accord. You rushed quietly behind them, into the hallway, still encompassed in the dark. You felt your way to your room as fast as you could without running into any walls or making sound.

Your front door opened, and you were confused now. Were they leaving? What was the point of breaking in in the first place?

“Took you long enough.”

The voice of a man, husky and gruff sounded from the front room.

“Shut up,” another man spoke, irritation clear in his voice. “Lock the door.”

Your brain stopped working for a moment. Two voices? Why were there two voices? Why were these men here? Do they know you’re here? What do you do now? Run? Hide? Where was your phone?

Dead. Right. It had died right before the power went out, you’d put it to charge but obviously that wasn’t happening at the moment.

A flash of light hit the hallway as the men walked past back into the living room. You didn’t want to move. Your room was so close, but you didn’t want to risk making a sound and bringing any attention to yourself. So you stayed frozen.

“How is breaking and entering into a crappy apartment supposed to be a christmas gift?” one of the men asked.

“It’s what’s in the apartament that’s the gift,”

“What’s in the apartament?”

“I should’ve worded that better,” the second man corrected. “Not what, but who.”

Three seconds behind. You were running on a delay now. Who?

You.

Three seconds.

Two sets of footsteps down the hallway.

One beam of light shining right at you.

Frozen. For a moment. No noise escaping you. The light too bright, blinding you as you winced. You still couldn’t see them. Not clearly. But they were tall. Bulked. You wouldn’t be able to get away from them if you tried. Funny how that thought came to you just a few seconds after you did.

Arms wrapped around your middle, and you were suddenly being pressed against one of the men as he held you, your back to him, keeping you tight against his chest. Still no sound leaving you. Just breathing, heavy breaths coming progressively quicker.

“Ah ah, princess,” he tutted in your ear as you stared wide-eyed into the darkness before you.

You fell asleep. That’s what happened. This was a dream. Just a bad dream, and you’d wake up any second now. That was the only explanation. Because this wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.

“Don’t cry, dove,” he soothed. “Not gonna hurt you, just wanted to introduce you to a pal of mine.”

You hadn’t even noticed the tears as they began welling in your eyes. He was speaking as if you knew each other. Like he knew you, intimately. The tone of his voice, the apparent affection. It was decidedly unnerving.

Your name fell off his tongue as if he’d spoken it a million times before, sending a chill through you as a small whimper finally managed to escape you. The flashlight was now shining on the man you were made to face. Dark hair, stubble on his jaw, piercing blue eyes cutting straight through you. You’d consider him pretty if this was a meeting under different circumstances. There was a look of contemplation on his face as he considered you. His gaze flicked from you to the man still holding you, a question clear in his eyes. Question.. or maybe an accusation.

“This is Bucky,” the man introduced. “I think you two are gonna get along real well,” he sounded almost excited. There was a tense moment of silence after he spoke, your eyes seemed glued to Bucky, your lip wobbling as you stood stock still against the stranger behind you. A painful squeeze of his arms around your waist, and you could feel his strength in his movements. You were sure he could break a rib, crush you easily if he wanted to. His hand gave your waist a squeeze as if he was waiting for you to do something.

“You’re normally so polite, princess. Use your manners. Say hello,” he instructed harshly. Normally so polite. Do you know this man? You started racking your brain for suspects, obviously someone you knew, someone you’d met.. Then suddenly your cheek stung, and you were brought back to the situation. He just slapped you? You blinked at Bucky, seeing him again as you refocused on reality.

“Hello,” you uttered weakly, breathily. You barely heard yourself.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at you, his mouth slightly agape as if he wanted to say something. He didn’t. His eyes shifted back to his friend instead.

“This is your idea of a Christmas present?”

“I’m telling you, Buck, you’re gonna love her. She’s the sweetest thing, you’ll see,” he insisted, you could practically hear him smiling as he spoke of you like you weren’t even there. “She’s exactly what we’ve been looking for. She’s perfect.”

It was like your brain just couldn’t quite compute what you were hearing. You couldn’t make sense of it. All your thoughts were still trying to guess who this man holding you was. The maintenance man who came over last week for the leak? No, his voice was way deeper and he was stoutly. The guy at the grocery store who stopped you on your way to your car just to tell you how pretty he thought you were? He wasn’t nearly as built as this man was, you could feel his solid chest against your back, his biceps around you were muscular, nothing like the guy from the store. Was it the bookstore? The place you went to get your oil change? Hell, the drive thru worker from last night? You had no idea. You couldn’t place the voice anywhere.

“We’ll see about that,” Bucky groused. “Let her go, Steve, she’s not gonna run. Are you, sweetheart?” he directed at you.

Frozen. You opened your mouth ever so slightly to speak, but no words fell out. You blinked once. Twice. Finally you managed to shake your head, it was almost imperceptible, but he accepted it. Steve’s arms fell from around you as Bucky took a step closer. You didn’t move, didn’t even think to. Not even as the power kicking back on served as a distraction for half a second. You stayed where you were, only wincing again at the lights coming on. You could see him better now. He was dressed in all black, the darkness of his clothing and hair only made his eyes that much more striking.

“You got a pretty face,” he said appreciatively, his lip twitching upward slightly. You didn’t know why you couldn’t look away, your eyes locked on him.

There was a loud bang, you jumped at the crashing sound, turning to watch Steve as he proceeded to trash your living room. As your eyes landed on him, it took you a moment to put it together. Steven. So you did know him, albeit vaguely. Every Wednesday, without fail, you’d somehow arrive at the coffee shop you frequented at the same time he would. He’d always hold the door for you. You never really spoke, but he seemed so nice. Chivalrous.

What was he doing? What was happening? Why?

Your television hit the floor as you gaped at the sight.

“What?” you breathed out, confused.

“Sorry, gotta make it look like there was a struggle. Don’t worry, you won’t miss a thing,” Steve assured you.

“I don’t- I don’t understand,” you started babbling. “What’s- why are you - what do you want? Why are you here? What’s happening, I don’t - I”

Gloved hands were on your arms as you began sputtering, turning you to face Bucky once again. His hand found your cheek, cupping your face gently as he looked you in the eye.

“Nothing you need to worry about, doll. We don’t wanna hurt you. So you’re gonna be good and listen to every word we tell you, won’t you?”

You kept staring at him, bloodshot doe eyes meeting his sharp, icy blue ones. You didn’t respond, but you allowed him to nod your head for you as you maintained eye contact.

“Good girl,” he smirked. “We’re gonna let Steve do what he needs to do and you’re gonna show me where your room is,” he instructed, turning you to face the hallway.

You walked without thinking, just doing as he told you. You didn’t want to make matters worse.

Flipping the light on, you entered the room. Bucky followed close behind you and moved further in even as you stopped right past the door.

“You got any preferences for clothes?” he asked as he looked in your closet. “We have some stuff, but I’m not sure they’ll fit you,” he said, looking you up and down. “Yeah,” he continued, agreeing with himself, “doubt it.”

You were just standing there like an idiot as he rifled through your belongings. You don’t know how much time passed before he got your attention again. He whistled as he held up a piece of lingerie from your drawer. He turned and held it up in front of you.

“I can see it,” he simpered. “You buy this for someone special, doll? Or maybe someone special bought it for you?” he prodded.

You simply shook your head, looking down now trying to avoid his lecherous gaze. He didn’t force you to speak, and you got the feeling he liked the fact you didn’t. Liked that you were being so obedient for him already. He shoved the lingerie into the duffle bag he’d found in your closet which he had already filled with a bunch of random clothes.

“I don’t know if we’re gonna be able to swing back around here,” Steve said casually as he entered the room. “If there’s anything important you want to bring, I’d grab it now, princess,” he told you.

“Where am I going?” you asked cautiously.

“You’re coming with us. We have our place all set up and ready for you. You won’t have to worry about a thing,”

“Time’s ticking, sweetheart. You heard Stevie, you want to bring something specific, go get it.”

You couldn’t think. They were taking you somewhere. They were packing your things. Steven , Steve, said you were perfect, but perfect for what? You then started to fret over leaving something behind. What if you really never came back here, what if all your things were just gone once you left with them. What do you grab, what should you take with you? That was easier to focus on.

You walked slowly over to your bed and grabbed your throw blanket, it was a security blanket, really. You never slept well without it. You watched as Steve walked into your bathroom with his phone out, he was taking pictures of your toiletries and beauty items. He must have felt your eyes on him because he looked back at you, smiling when he met your gaze. “We’ll get you new stuff, you don’t have to worry about bringing any of this.”

“This is going a lot smoother than it normally does,” Bucky said skeptically as he watched you give nearly no reaction.

“I told you, Buck. She’s perfect,” Steve repeated, smirking now as he turned back to continue making note of your things. “That’s what happens when we’re patient and wait for the right one instead of just trying to make random girls work,” he said, seeming to try and point a finger at his partner.

“She’s not putting up even a little bit of a fight,” Bucky mused aloud as he approached you, ignoring Steve and eyeing you darkly. “Why is that, doll?” he asked.

A few more steps and he was directly in front of you, eyes bearing into your own.

“Oh,” he breathed, a wry smile creeping on his lips. “I see it now,” his hands were on your face, holding you as he stared deeply into your bleary eyes, “you’re terrified, aren’t you?”

A broken whimper broke past your lips as you began to tremble slightly. Things were catching up now. The gravity of your situation, the insanity and brazen entitlement of these men in your home, speaking of you like you weren’t able to hear them, talking about taking you with them, how ‘perfect’ you were, the realization of it all, everything compounding, slamming into one another, sending you reeling.

It felt like only fifteen seconds had passed since you watched the balcony door open. How did all of this happen so quickly? It was like you weren’t even there. Just watching everything from an outsider's perspective. Passive. You were so passive.

You just wanted them to leave. You didn’t want to fight them, what point was there in that. You didn’t want to try and run, again, what would be the point? It was clear you weren’t getting away from them and they weren’t planning on leaving you. The only thing you could do was...nothing. Just let them do as they wanted, and try not to make things worse for yourself. Don’t provoke them or put yourself in more danger. They said they didn’t want to hurt you. All you had to do was listen. Just listen, you repeated over and over in your head.

The pressure of Bucky’s hands on your face increased slightly, the material of his gloves rough against your skin as he wiped at the stray tears that had started to fall again. All you could do was nod. He was right. You weren’t doing a thing to stop them because you were scared. You were utterly terrified.

“That’s okay, sweetheart. You’re doing perfect, listening real well, doing what we tell you,” he praised. “You know, Stevie, this just might be the best gift you’ve ever given me,” he called to his partner while he continued staring, his eyes taking in every detail of your face, lingering on your pouty lips.

You were a present. Not a person. At least not to them.

“Let’s see just how obedient you can be,” he said, his voice lower, darker. He was even closer now, you could feel the heat radiating off of him as he was nearly right up against you. Your chest was heaving from your stuttering breaths. Dread setting in the pit of your stomach as his touch left your cheeks and instead drifted down your body.

“Not here, Bucky.” Steve’s harsh words had Bucky’s hands halting in their exploration.

He sucked his teeth before taking a step back and turning to face Steve.

“You can wait another two hours,” Steve griped before turning his attention to you, softening slightly. “That’s all you want to bring, princess?”

“Why are you doing this to me?”

The question left your mouth before you even registered it as a thought. You saw Steve’s jaw clench as he narrowed his eyes ever so slightly at your question. If you had to worry about stoking someone’s ire, it was clearly Steve’s. He worked to calm himself, taking a breath before he responded to you.

“I guess we haven’t really explained what’s happening here, have we?

See, Buck and I, we’ve been looking for a pretty little dove like you for a long time, now. But they were just never right. We gave up for a bit, decided the right girl would come along when she was ready. And then I walked right into you one morning. You remember it, don’t you? You were walking into the coffee shop as I was coming out. I wasn’t really paying attention, it was completely my fault, but you were so sweet.. Caring, understanding. Those are rare traits nowadays, ya know. I’m not sure exactly what it was about you that struck me, but I just knew..

I knew you were the one for us. Kept an eye on you for a while, I wanted to learn more about you, get to know you better. And turns out you’re as sweet as I thought you were. Lonely as us, too. We’re the perfect fit. I could see just how much you needed someone.

The number of times I’ve had to watch you cry all alone from the outside looking in, it was like torture,” he confessed as his hands were suddenly on your face, wiping at your tears. You hadn’t even registered him getting closer, didn’t notice him brushing past Bucky to take the spot he had been in, in front of you. “But you won’t ever have to do that again. You won’t be alone anymore, not with us. It’s a win-win situation, princess. You get to get out of this shithole, leave all the stress behind you, no more responsibilities - aside from taking care of us. But we’ll be taking care of you, too. I know this might seem scary, sudden, but it’s for the best, I promise. For all three of us,” he finished, looking back at Bucky who’s eyes were still set on you.

When Steve finally backed away from you, granting you some space, Bucky was quick to return to your side. He was intent on you, not wanting you to get very far from him, though you were hardly moving.

After Steve trashed the rest of your apartment, Bucky had the thrown together bag of clothes slung on his shoulder, ushering you in front of him to trail behind Steve.

When you’d made it downstairs to the parking lot of your complex, you were led to a sleek, blacked out fully tinted SUV. Steve went to the driver’s side and Bucky opened the back door for you. He helped you in and then climbed in right next to you. You heard Steve scoff as he looked back at him, but he didn’t say anything as he started the car and drove out of the lot.

You stared ahead blankly as the car made its way through and out of town, you were aware of the men talking back and forth, but the conversation didn’t include you - at least not that you heard. You were sure Steve would make it clear if he was expecting an answer from you, the way he had earlier, so you let yourself zone out.

What had you done wrong?

How did you find yourself in this position? It was Christmas. You were alone and vulnerable. How long had Steve been watching you? How long had you been a target and you hadn’t even realized?

Fuck, you were so stupid. Stupid, pathetic, and pitiful.

You didn’t even try to get out of this, just went along with them.

The feeling of a gloved hand settling on your leg brought you back to reality for the moment, looking down just as Bucky squeezed your thigh.

“If I had let me in on your plans, I could’ve gotten some stuff ready for her,” he spoke to Steve as his hand idly toyed with the top of your knee highs.

“What we have already will be fine for now. Besides, I didn’t wanna spoil the surprise.”

There was a beat as Bucky fiddled with your stockings, contemplating as he brushed his gloved fingers over your exposed skin.

“What’s our ETA?” he asked Steve.

“Another hour.”

He nodded, a hint of a smirk on his lips, “More than enough time,” Bucky responds smoothly, pulling you onto his lap just the same as you yipped in surprise.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve mutters.

“Don’t be jealous Stevie, you’ll get your turn, too. She’s my present isn’t she? You got your gift earlier, why can’t I have mine now?”

“She’s ours,” he nearly growled in response.

“Guess that means you still owe me one, then,” he taunted back while his hands found your ass, groping you through the material of your shorts while you stayed as still as possible on his lap, though the lull of the car driving down the interstate didn’t make that an easy task. You eventually grabbed onto his shoulders to keep yourself upright as Steve passed yet another car, the speed threatening to send you into the door if not falling forward on top of Bucky.

Your unintentional wiggling had Bucky groaning and you could feel his erection growing beneath you.

“You make a mess back there, you’re cleaning it,” Steve warned.

All you could focus on, despite your every attempt not to, was the feeling of Bucky’s hands on you as you were forced onto his lap. Grabbing at your ass, running under your shirt, up and down your back, along your waist, gripping your wide hips as he began rocking you atop him. His bulge was rubbing against you with every move and though you tried to fight it, a stirring.. a tingling sensation in your core began to overshadow your fear and disgust.

Your hands were holding tightly onto him, one hand on firm muscle, the other seeming to cling to something more solid. It was an arm, but not one made from flesh and bone.

Bucky’s hands still on your hips suddenly forced you to sit fully down on him. You could feel his strength in the movement, you didn’t consider for a second trying to stop his hands as they slid down into the back of your bottoms, knowing it wouldn’t stop him. He grabbed your ass, his eyes hungry as he stared at you. He swiftly moved his hands up your back and pulled the hem of your top up and off of you in a flash.

You felt exposed and more scared than you’d been earlier, but deep down you had to have known this was coming. Of course it was.

He grabbed your breasts through your thin bra, kneading them in his still gloved hands. He took a second to finally rid himself of them and when you saw the metal of his left hand, you couldn’t help the audible breath you took as he brought it directly to your throat, squeezing enough to have you shiver but not to interfere with your breathing. He smirked as you subtly sank into him further with the show of dominance before he let his hand wander down and around your back to unclasp your bra.

Pulling the bra off of you easily, he pushed you back so you were up against the passenger’s seat as he ogled your chest. His hands wandered from your throat down to the waistband of your shorts, squeezing you, tickling you, playing with your breasts and teasing your nipples before he pulled you closer again, his head falling to your chest as he took one into his mouth. You worked hard to stifle the moan that threatened to escape when he suckled at you. His touch was all consuming and overpowering. The warmth of his mouth on your breasts, the way he held you to him, keeping your hips rocking against his as he groaned against your skin.

You were completely defenseless and had no plans of trying to fight back, no plans at all to try and stop it from happening. What good would it do? You’d let him have his way, do whatever it was he wanted to do and just get it over with.

He pulled off of you just as Steve sped around another car, you fell forward into Bucky, not bothering to right yourself, just letting your body rest against his, your head on his chest now. His hands found the waistband of your bottoms again and he worked to get them down your thick legs, not an easy task in the position he had you in. He barely managed to get them past your ass before he unceremoniously lifted you nearly over his shoulder and over the seat so you were leaning over him as he tugged them the rest of the way down. You were only then vaguely aware of your lack of shoes, briefly you wondered how you didn’t notice that when you first left your apartment. Your thong sliding down your calves, over the knee highs he left on you, had you refocusing on what was currently going on. You heard his zipper and felt him messing with his pants and it was only another second or two before you were pulled right back down onto Bucky’s lap, a mix between a gasp and a moan escaping you and a hiss escaping Bucky as his firm, hard cock pulsed against your bare pussy.

“Sit,” Bucky ordered firmly. You inched down only a bit more, earning a slap to your ass before he spoke again, “Sit. Down,” he growled.

You obeyed without another word, sitting fully on his exposed lap, the zipper of his pants rubbing against your skin as you did.

“Good puppy,” he praised darkly as he grabbed your face, pulling you to him and forcing eye contact. “I don’t like repeating myself, sweetheart. We’ve only just met, so I’ll give you a free pass this time. And I know you won’t do it again, will you, doll?”

“No,” you ekked out breathily, feeling the tears renew in your eyes. You shuddered as he kissed your temple before reaching between you and grabbing his cock, pumping himself once before he had you lift up for him, placing himself at your entrance. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly, your arms wrapped around his neck, the only thing keeping you steady as the shame of your arousal consumed you.

“Pussy’s all nice and wet for me, already, huh?” he teased.

You had nowhere else to go so buried your face in his neck, trying desperately to hide from the humiliation. His hands were on your hips and he didn’t give you any warning before he pulled you down, fully seating you on his dick, the air rushed from your lungs at the shock and stretch you were entirely unprepared for. He groaned deeply, a heady, “fuck”, tumbling from his lips as he held you there a second while you whimpered and cried.

“Son of a bitch, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” he growled before gripping your hips tighter, surely leaving bruises. You didn’t do anything, couldn’t move if you’d wanted to. You were gripping onto him like your life depended on it and somewhere deep down you were scared it just might.

Ten seconds passed and he just kept you there, sitting pretty on his cock while you cried into his neck. His grip lightened on your hips and he moved one hand to rub your back, clearly his attempt to ease you.

“Relax,” he soothed, “just take it. Take my cock like the good puppy I know you are,” he said, punctuating his sentence by thrusting up into you, making you cry out in response.

He was too thick. It hurt. Sure there was an underlying pleasure that was making its way to the surface the longer he stayed still, allowing you to adjust to the intrusion, but it was still uncomfortable. And being naked and exposed to the chill air in the car only made you more frigid. Even the heat coming off of Bucky wasn’t helping. You were covered in goosebumps and you had tear streaks still running down your face. You were a mess, a whimpering pathetic mess. Nothing more than a frightened little puppy, just like he knew you’d be.

A jolt of pleasure shot through you as his thumb was suddenly on your clit, rubbing in tight circles as you moaned weakly before laxing against him even further, inadvertently taking more of his cock inside you.

“Just like that,” he praised, giving you another few seconds to adjust to him. “Want you to bounce on my cock, you think you can handle that, doll?”

You shook your head, still hiding your face in his neck, not wanting to see the way he was looking at you.

He laughed darkly at your response before reframing your hips with his hands, “That’s alright, puppy. We’ll try again when your little pussy’s used to me. It’ll take some training, but you’ll get it eventually. I don’t have a problem doing it myself right now,”

All you could do was cry as he held your hips down on him, fucking up into you relentlessly, the material of his pants scratching at your delicate skin and his hold on you leaving marks you were sure you’d see in the morning. Your tits were bouncing as you bit your lip, groaning at the sensations shooting through you while Bucky cursed and growled, moans leaving him with every thrust into you.

“Please,” you cried, “please, please, please,”

“Fucking hell, Bucky, don’t break her before we even get her home,” Steve interjected sharply between your cries.

“You can’t feel the way she’s gripping me, she fucking loves it,” he panted, slapping your ass as he continued fucking you.

“Hurts,” you mewled desperately, hoping he’d take pity on you and at the very least slow down.

“Poor pup,” he patronized, keeping his pace as you clung to him.

“Buck,” Steve snarled from the front of the car.

Bucky grunted but soon slowed his movements, and began moving you up and down on his cock by your hips, lifting you and having you sit right back down, the new motion stimulating your clit with every tilt of your hips.

You walls clenched down on him as he slapped your ass again, groaning and growling as he kept you riding him.

His movements were slower, but he had you taking him deeper than before. “Fuck yes,” he moaned lowly, throwing his head back as he bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut as he groaned. His grip tightened on your hips as he felt you getting closer.

“You wanna come, sweetheart?” he teased, only getting a whine from you in response. He chuckled again, “You don’t have to deny it, doll. I know it feels good for you, too. I can feel your cunt tryin’ milk my cock. Don’t worry, I’m gonna give you exactly what you need, baby,”

His thumb found your clit again, playing you expertly as you writhed on his cock, unbidden moans falling from you as you felt a coil tightening in your lower belly.

“I’m gonna give it to you, you’re gonna take fuckin all of it. But you’re gonna come on my cock first,”

That coil wound tighter, and tighter, and tighter with each swipe of his thumb in tandem with his thrusts until you couldn’t hold it or fight it any longer and it finally snapped. A white hot heat running through your body as you cried out, holding onto Bucky as you came undone. The feeling of his warm cum hitting your walls as he finished inside of you registered too late, not that you could’ve done anything to stop him anyway. The post orgasmic haze quickly faded with the reminder of reality.

You slumped into him again as you began sobbing. His arms held your naked body against his fully clothed one as he relaxed, leaning back into the seat while a hand rubbed your back and you wore yourself out with the tears that fell.

“No tears, puppy. You did such a good job,” he cooed, only making you cry harder despite how exhausted you were.

He was right, you did a good job for him. Didn’t fight, didn’t try to stop it. Just let him have you, however he wanted. You were a coward. Terrified of being hurt, you let him hurt you. You could hate yourself for your lack of self preservation, but when you really thought about it, this was your self preservation. They could easily hurt you worse. They could kill you if they wanted and you’d never stand a chance. You didn’t want to live like this, but you didn’t want to die, either. You weren’t sure yet, but the latter certainly seemed like the worse option.

Just be good and don’t give them a reason to hurt you. That’s all you had to do. That’s all you could do.

Bucky kept you on him, stuffed full of his cock and cum while he held you against him.

You whimpered when you felt his cock get hard again inside of you but he didn’t move you, just kept you sitting on him - keeping him warm.

“We’re not that far,” Steve spoke, waking you as your eyes threatened to close while you laid against Bucky, thoroughly exhausted.

“Good, she’s about to pass out on me already,”

“‘S’alright, dove,” Steve said to you, “You can sleep til we get home and we’ll bring you inside. You’re gonna need your rest. Our night’s just getting started. We’ve got a lot of celebrating to do now that you’re finally home.”

You couldn’t help it as your tears fell once again, and Bucky rubbed your back.

“You’re gonna love it, doll,” he reassured you. “And if you thought that was good you have no idea how much better it is when it’s all three of us. We’ll have you seeing stars, baby,” he simpered.

“Tomorrow we’ll get everything else sorted, but for tonight, we’ll just get you comfortable. The only thing you’ll be crying for by the end of the night is more.”

[justathickblackgirl]

(Nov. 7)

@Shepherds4Good: Palestinian children in Gaza hold a press conference outside Al Shifa hospital, speaking English so the world cannot pretend not to understand them: “We come now to shout and invite you to protect us; we want to live, we want peace… we want to live as the other children live.”

[justathickblackgirl]

Primal play with Katsuki.

Something that started off so innocent, really.

You had been home all day, a weekend where he was out on patrol and after doing some housework you were sat watching TV. As always, right on time, the door opened and there was a thud as his gauntlets and hero suit hit the floor. You decided last minute to hide, dropping him a quick message before you did.

You: Come find me, handsome.

There was a long pause, almost too long and you were worried he was tired or injured, maybe he wasn't in the mood or his phone has been damaged. But then there was a noise as it vibrated in your hand.

Boom Boom Boi: You better hide, princess.

Covering your mouth with your hand to stop your giggles reaching him, you quietly slid back into the cupboard as you listened to him walking around the apartment. The doors opening, the creak where the hinges hadn't been oiled and the thump as his heavy footsteps echoed around you.

Then silence.

You could almost hear the thud of your heart against your ribs, it sounded so loud. Louder than usual, your palms sweaty as you leaned back into the corner. You held your breath, trying to listen out for the telltale sign that he was near but you couldn't make out a sound.

Suddenly, the door was flung open and you could see his grin. The way his eyes were almost glowing, chest heaving as he eyed you up and down. His gaze catching on the long shirt and socks you were wearing, both his of course, his hand reaching out for you with a chuckle until you dipped under his arm as he cursed behind you.

Barely making it to the door when his arm came around you, thick corded muscle gripping your waist as he picked you up. Your giggles loud now, his snort of laughter when you failed to get yourself free and ended up caught further. His lips finding the sensitive spot on your neck as his hands gripped your legs and opened them wide.

"Gotcha."

You hadn't even realised how turned on you were until cool air hit the sensitive space between your legs where your underwear had began sticking to your swollen folds. His teeth now nipping at the juncture of your throat as his hands kept you splayed wide, you could feel his thick erection against your ass as he bounced you up and down. The plush of your thighs gripped in his rough hands, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he ground himself against you. Your moans now louder, hands reaching up to find the short hairs on his nape and run your fingers through them the way he loved.

"Shoulda said you wanted to get fucked, princess. Didn't needta hide."

[justathickblackgirl]

bunny | peter parker !

¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !

word count: 10.9k

synopsis: Peter Parker has been your best friend for years. After you develop a relationship with somebody else, you see a side of him you've never seen before.

content warnings: RAPE/NONCON, blood, dark!peter parker, plus size!reader, negative self talk, insecurities, slow burn, implied stalking, oral (f! receiving), slapping, degradation, spit, unproteced sex, creampie, lmk if i missed any

¡ marvel masterlist !

You were sixteen when you met Peter Parker. 

He had shyly approached you, a blush high on his cheeks as he handed you a stack of papers. Confused, you simply stared at them, eyebrows cinched and lips slightly down-turned. 

You were well aware of who Peter Parker was. He was a member of the Midtown Academic Decathlon team that you were also part of; though you never directly interacted it’s him due to your nerves. He seemed kind, he was lanky and a little geeky, making him the butt of a lot of jokes. Much like you were. For opposite reasons, of course.

You were often teased and ridiculed for your size. You were heavier and much curvier than other girls your age. You had a puffy face and a matching plump body, most people couldn’t look past that. So, to say the least, you weren’t very popular.

Peter Parker knew all about you. He had been watching you since your freshman year. He was mesmerized when first laid eyes on you. He swears he had never seen a more beautiful sight than you, taking little, shy steps like you were afraid to make your presence known. Your hair was done in the way he would grow to like best, and you wore a pretty blue plaid skirt and a white sweater. The skirt was a tad too long and he could sense your discomfort as you tugged it down even further. He remembers staring at you as you looked around with unfamiliarity and slight fear in your eyes. The innocence in your eyes was also hard to miss. You held textbooks to your chest, in an attempt to conceal your tummy. He watched as you stood alone, your cute nose making slight movements as you stood. Your nose wiggled like a little bunny. He felt the desire to protect you, keep you next to him and out of harm’s way. He regrets not approaching you that day. It would have saved you from a lonely year. 

“I was told to give these to you,” he said silently, “I heard you missed a few days.”

“Oh,” you breathed, taking them from him, your chubby hands looking silly against his thin, veiny ones. Peter thought they looked perfect together. “Thank you, Peter,” you said, quickly pulling your hands away and hiding them behind your back when you saw his gaze on them. 

His eyes lingered on where your hand was against his before he looked up at you and gave you a bright smile, “no problem.”

Peter walked you to your class after that, taking the empty seat beside you and discussing the subject matter with you. And to your surprise, he followed you to your next class, and the next, and the next. By the end of the day, you were quite fond of the boy. He was a lot kinder than you’d imagined, he even promised to see you the following morning for breakfast with Ned and MJ. Of course, you tried to decline but he wouldn’t let you leave without the promise of arriving on time. 

This was years ago and your friendship had only gotten stronger. 

Being friends with Peter was refreshing and comforting. He wasn’t like the other guys you’d met in university. He didn’t have any ulterior motives nor did he fetishize you. He did not attempt to coerce you or manipulate you into getting what he wants because you owed it to him. No, Peter would never do that. 

Peter was actually the one to look after you, he made you aware of what those who sought you were really after. They want to take advantage of you, bunny, he’d said several times. They want to ruin you. He would never elaborate on what he meant when he said that and you didn’t like to pry. He just had a good judge of character is all.

Of course, Ned and MJ were your friends too and they were very nice to you as well, but you always felt that they were only acquainted with you for Peter’s sake. You never hung out with them without Peter present but you tried not to let it bother you.

Your goal for the year was to acquire your own circle of friends, and maybe even get a boyfriend after being single your entire life. Peter had a few girlfriends here and there, though nothing was ever serious. You couldn’t help but feel slightly envious of him, he had grown to be quite attractive, making it easy for him to make connections.

He had lost the baby fat on his cheeks, his jaw was now angular and his strong bone structure was one of his most prominent features on top of his big, brown eyes and muscular body. He was muscular in a lean way, a way that isn’t entirely noticeable under the sweaters he always wore. 

Today Peter sat across from you, latte in hand as he basked in the morning sun. His tight black shirt highlighted his muscular arms and chest, you caught yourself staring as you sometimes did when he ditched the ill-fitting clothing. His chocolate brown curls framed his face beautifully, looking golden where they met the sun. His lips, colored like pink peonies, rested with the slightest pout.

You sipped your London fog, squinting as you looked up in search of the singing bird in the tree above your head. You caught sight of it. The creature’s delicate red feathers looked like fire in the golden sky as it flew away. Your stare fell on Peter again, “our 8 AM lecture was canceled today.” 

Peter hummed, not moving from his previous state, “I know.”

You huffed, “why’re we here, then?” you set your cup down, “it’s way too early. We, no I, should be in bed.”

Peter’s lips quirked up into a smile, “I wanted to hang out.”

“At six-thirty A.M.? We could’ve hung out at a more reasonable hour, like, I don’t know, eleven,” you began ranting and you saw one of Peter’s eyes open slightly. “Or maybe twelve, we could’ve gotten breakfast or… or brunch!”

“You never eat breakfast,” he said, swinging his head forward, eyes now fully open and on you.

“I do…” you claimed, your nose scrunching, lips pouting.

Peter clicked his tongue, “not enough.”

“Well, whatever,” you opted to change the subject before he could continue further. 

“We still could’ve met up later. Like I said, brunch.”

“I don’t know,” he began, sitting up all the way now, “I kinda like being out this early. It’s nice and quiet.” 

“I guess so,” you murmured, leaning back to rest on your elbows.

Peter watched you, gaze moving from your Mary Jane-clad feet to your pretty hair. You wore a dress today. It was Peter’s favorite dress, not that you knew that. It was a lilac purple color and it had short, puffy sleeves. He liked the way the dress clung to your curves and complimented your skin tone. It was the shortest of all your dresses, so he especially liked the way it rode up your thighs when you sat down, making your pudgy thighs all the more visible to him. He stared at them now, noticing the way the plush fat pooled around you like a sea of soft flesh as you relaxed. He wanted to grab them, bury his face in them and drown in you. 

His eyes ran up your body further, over the curve of your tummy and swell of your breasts. The necklace Peter had gifted you last Christmas sat prettily around your neck, resting on your bare chest above the heart-shaped neckline of your dress, rising and falling as you breathed. He stared at it, not noticing when you opened your eyes to look at him.

“Okay?” he heard you ask.

“Mhm,” he replied, tearing his eyes away and giving you a soft smile. 

+

The morning had passed rather quickly and you perked up after your second tea of the day. Your last class of the day was your creative writing class. As you strode in, you took your usual seat in the front of the room, setting your things down beside you.

Your focus was on the board in front of you when you felt a gush of air on your left. You looked over, catching sight of a tall figure sitting down beside you. 

“Hey,” the man exhaled, setting down his things next to yours. 

You opened your mouth to respond but you ended up holding your hand up to signal a hello. 

The man smiled, “I’m Harry,” he held a hand out for you to shake.

You looked at it, quietly introducing yourself as you took his pale hand. Your touch was featherlight as it took you by surprise when he gripped it tightly with a slight laugh. 

Harry was effortlessly charming. He was cute and cool and he had a sharp sense of humor, you learned. But on top of that, he had a contagious smile and a gaze that made you feel like you were the most important person in the room. You often caught yourself gazing at him from the corner of your eye trying to be inconspicuous with your staring. He had shiny blonde hair that you thought resembled Peter’s. Only lighter and shorter and straighter and not really like Peter’s at all. 

You weren’t sure why your mind had suddenly wandered to Peter. Maybe a part of you wondered what he would think of Harry. Or maybe you were subconsciously comparing them. You weren’t sure.

“Hey, um,” you turned towards Harry who had begun speaking. The class had ended and you were gathering your things. “We should meet up,” he grinned, “maybe at the library?”

You weren’t used to social invitations, much less from men like Harry. 

“Does tomorrow at four work for you?” 

You nodded, unable to find your voice. You felt blood rush to your face at the look he gave you next. It was like he was trying to figure you out, understand you with a simple glance. Like he was trying to read you like a book. 

“Great,” he picked up your bag for you, “looking forward to it.”

+

Peter was laying on your bed when you arrived at your little studio apartment. He was half asleep, strong arms wrapped tightly around your stuffed bunny and surrounded by your assortment of other stuffed animals. He shot up at the sound of the door opening, “hey.”

“Do you ever go home?” you kicked off your shoes and set your bag down. “This place isn’t big enough for the both of us.”

In his mind it was. Just perfect. It kept you close.

“Why would I? You’re such good company, bunny.”

You snorted, “I’m sure that’s the reason and definitely not you trying to get away from Ned and Betty.” 

You moved towards your bed, plopping down next to him, adjusting the skirt of your dress that had ridden up when you landed. Peter watched your hands as they rested on your tummy. He could see right down your dress. He could see the white bra hugging your tits, a little bow between the cups. 

“What?” you asked, self-consciously moving your hand to your chin.

“Nothing. Don’t do that,” he looked at the ceiling. It bothered Peter when you did things like that. As if you weren’t the most beautiful person he had ever seen.

You simply huffed, “how did you even get in here?”

He motioned toward the open window, “you need to start locking it. One of these days a creep could just come waltzing in and you’d have no idea.”

“A creep like you,” you joked with a breathy laugh. You tore your stuffed bunny from his arms.

“Worse,” he said lazily.

Silence filled the room for a few seconds as Peter began to doze off again. 

“I met this guy in class today.”

Peter was suddenly very awake. “Oh,” a pause, “who?”

“He said his name is Harry, I don’t know his last name but he was very nice.” You sounded excited, “we’re meeting up at the library tomorrow to study and get some work done.”

Get some work done. Sure, that’s what you were gonna do. Peter knew better than that. You didn’t, of course. That’s why you were so lucky to have Peter with you, by your side, protecting you from evil college guys who just wanted to get under your skirt. They wouldn’t have a clue what to do to you. How to make you feel good and have you purring sweetly in their ears… 

“So, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t break into my home.”

“Huh?”

You gave him an unamused look, “you weren’t listening.”

He grinned, “I’m always listening.”

You rolled your eyes, “I said, don’t come by just in case we come back here.”

Peter furrowed his brows in disgust. What business would he have coming back to your apartment if you were just going to study? Did he ask you if he could come over? 

“Why would you do that?”

You shifted uncomfortably, “I don’t know…”

Peter felt sick. 

“We should do something else instead. There’s a new Vietnamese place not far from here. MJ says they have really good pho.”

“Peter…” you started. He knew you were going to say no. You rarely said no to him. “How about Friday? We can get takeout and come back here and watch movies. Your pick.” 

His first mistake was looking over at you. Your chubby cheeks and pretty lips pulled up into a sweet smile. Your eyes were pleading, please say yes, please say yes. His second mistake was giving in.

“Fine.”

+

Peter left your apartment shortly after that. You had spent the rest of the night going over the conversation trying to figure out where you went wrong. He seemed upset as he hugged you goodbye. His brown eyes didn’t hold the same warmth they always did. Maybe he thinks I’m trying to replace him. But that wouldn’t make any sense. You only just met Harry. You didn’t know anything about him besides his first name. 

“Hey!” Harry called a tad too loudly for the library. He stood from his seat, waving you over.

In all honesty, you didn’t expect him to be there. It was a little before four and you had arrived with low expectations. Though this was only intended to be a study session and nothing more, Harry was a very attractive man. He was funny and charming and extroverted and you… were none of those things.

“Hi,” you mumbled as you neared the table he was seated at. It was in the far corner, furthest away from the librarian. Or any of the other stressed university students. 

“I chose this table so we won’t have to whisper,” he smiled, patting the open seat beside him.

His eagerness made you blush. “Good idea,” your voice was still small.

He chuckled, “thanks,” he dramatically whispered.

You blushed further, “sorry.”

The both of you were silent as you took out your laptops. 

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you for some time now,” he started. “I read one of your pieces when the semester started and I really enjoyed it. You’re a phenomenal writer.”

“Really?” he appeared nonchalant as he typed in his password. As if he hadn’t just given you the kindest compliment you had ever received.

“Yeah, it’s so obvious how passionate you are. I mean every time I look at you, you look so entranced by the books you read or by the professor or your work.”

He looked at you?

“Oh,” your face felt warmer, “um, thank you.”

He smiled at you, “no problem, it’s true.”

You felt butterflies in your tummy and you began to log into your laptop to avoid looking at him.

You began to work in silence, hyper-aware of every time Harry leaned in close to you, reading your story as you typed. He smelled of musk and vanilla. His head of blonde locks tickled your ear.

Eventually, you presumed he grew bored as he shut his laptop and turned to face you in his chair. You attempted to ignore him but your typing began to slow and your focus was only on the boy beside you.

You gave him a faux look of annoyance, “I thought we were here to study.”

“We are,” he propped his head up on his hand that rested on the table. “To study and get to know each other.” 

Get to know each other. 

That was unexpected. 

You couldn’t ignore the butterflies that erupted in your tummy, “Oh, okay, yeah.”

Surprisingly, you had a decent amount in common with Harry. Of course, not overly so. Not like you and Peter. But this is a good thing. You’re making your own friends.

+

“Oh, he’s so lovely, Pete!” you gushed, your nose wiggling as you spoke.

“Mhm,” Peter watched you with a strange look, mouth full of boba pearls, “you’ve mentioned that.”

You gave him a smile that normally would have made him turn to mush. Only this time, it didn’t. Had you smiled at Harry like that?

“I’m excited!” you waved your hands in the air, “I’m making my own friends, Pete. I’m an independent woman now.”

He rolled his eyes as he took another sip of his tea, “good. Good for you.” He couldn’t help the bitter feeling that rested in the pit of his stomach. 

Independent. You had made a single “friend” (Peter didn’t even want to think about that. He knew Harry was just using you, that’s not what friends do. You shouldn’t throw that term around like that. He was your friend. Peter was your friend.) and you already pegged yourself as independent. He could laugh in your face. You were far too pure to face the world without him by your side. Like hell you were independent.

You pouted, your eyes searching for his, “are you angry with me?”

Angry? Why would he be angry? Because you hadn’t shown at your arranged time? Because the reason you were late was that you wanted to squeeze in an extra “study date” with Harry? No, he wasn’t angry. Not at you anyway.

“Of course not, bunny. Could never be.”

It was true, he wasn’t necessarily angry, he was more so slightly bothered by what you had done. That’s how it usually was. You would do something that Peter did not agree with but he would never be angry. Just mildly annoyed. He couldn’t be angry with his sweet little bunny. You probably didn’t even know the consequences of your actions. He couldn’t blame you for that.

You smiled, leaning in to hug him. Peter was immediately enveloped in warmth, your soft body melding with his. The sweet scent of lavender and honey was all around him. Your hair tickled his neck where you buried your face. You were on your knees on the couch, allowing Peter a view of your backside covered in your loungewear.

He loved your hugs. They always succeed in lifting his spirits and making him a little dizzy. You were just so warm and soft and perfect for him. 

You pulled away, still smiling as you sunk back into your spot on your tiny, tiny couch and pulled your tea to your lips. 

He let himself watch as you wrapped your lovely mouth around the straw. A minuscule puddle of milk tea formed on your bottom lip, and you licked it up as you removed the straw. Your tongue was wet and a delightful shade of pink as you slid it across the expanse of your lip.

He felt a throb in his sweatpants. Shifting, he asked, “so, what else did you do today?”

You hummed, chewing the balls of boba in your mouth, “that’s all. Just hung out with Harry. We have a lot more in common than I thought,” you giggled. “We just don’t run out of things to talk about.”

He inhaled, feeling himself go soft, “that’s a lot of talking in the library.”

“Oh, we didn’t go to the library,” you shook your head. 

He gave you a look, “where did you go?”

You looked hesitant, “um, we went to his flat. It was nearby and he had forgotten his books, so it was easier to stay there.” 

How convenient. 

“Bunny,” Peter started. 

You had a guilty look on your face as you stared at him, “I know,” your voice was small, “not safe. I know… but he’s not like the other guys Pete. He wouldn’t hurt me.”

“How can you be so sure, hm? You’re in no way prepared to protect yourself. What if he had done something to you? What would you have done?”

“He wouldn’t…” you looked down, “he wouldn’t do anything.” You bit your lip as you nervously whispered, “I think he likes me.”

Peter could hardly hear you. He was sure he hadn’t heard correctly because of how softly you spoke. “Speak up, bunny. I can’t hear you.”

“I said I think he likes me,” you said a little louder. He could see the embarrassment on your face. Like you couldn’t believe you had said that out loud.

Peter swallowed, “oh.” 

There was a pause, “what makes you think that?”

“Well,” your nose fluttered, “he said he’s never met anyone like me. And he,” you glanced up at him before returning your gaze to your lap, “he tried to kiss me.”

Oh. 

Peter didn’t know how to react. He stared at your pretty eyes with his brows cinched and an analyzing gaze. The first thought to pop into his was: did you kiss him? Then: did you want to kiss him?

“Oh,” he managed to say, “did you?”

You inhaled, “um, no…” you trailed off, shifting uncomfortably. “I couldn’t.”

Good. He doesn’t deserve to feel your lips. He doesn’t deserve your first kiss. 

“I don’t know how,” you looked up at him. Your eyes looked glassy and you had a look of embarrassment on your face.

It should have been obvious. Peter did keep any potential love interest as far from you as you could manage, yet he was still flustered.

He hummed, feeling blood rush to his groin, “you don’t?”

You shook your head, “no… never learned how.”

Your lips looked so pretty as you pouted, shame present on your face. Peter wanted to reach over, pull you in close, and kiss you softly. He wanted to run his hands through your hair and up your soft curves. To hear your lovely noises as you gave into him. 

He grimaced as the image of Harry’s dirty lips inching closer to yours. Your pure, innocent mouth being tainted by his filthy one. He could have that. What else would he make you do?

He could only imagine your gasp of surprise, your inexperienced movements, your sugary taste. But you were sitting right in front of him, weren’t you? You had enough confidence in him that you would even confess such a thing. He was obligated to help you, wasn’t he? You’re essentially asking for help, right?

“I could,” he paused, unsure, “I could teach you.”

“Really?” You straightened your back a tad, eyes widening at the offer.

You trusted him so much. After all these years that you’d known him, Peter had never once misled you in any way shape, or form. He was the person you trusted most because you knew he had your best interest in mind. He was your best friend. He was there to keep you safe.

“Mhm,” he moved a little closer, “if you’d want that, I can.”

You nodded eagerly, “yes, Peter, please.”

Yes, Peter, please…

You sat still as Peter invaded your space.

He licked his lips, you reluctantly placed one hand on your thigh, and the other reaching up to cup your chubby face. The warmth of your being was seeping into him so deep he felt warmer than he ever had.

You looked at him expectantly, your glassy gaze flickering from his honey brown eyes to his lips. 

“Are you ready?” He whispered, mouth mere inches from yours.

You inhaled, “yes, Peter. I wanna be good for Harry.”

He ignored the pang in his chest, “well, you have to be good for me first, bunny.”

You nodded, fluttering your eyes shut. He watched you for a second. Your nose wiggled faintly as you breathed and you sat patiently waiting with your pouty lips puckered up slightly. 

He was able to see it all this close to you. All of your imperfections that he never had the privilege of noticing before. It only made him long for you more.

Peter ignored the thought in his head that said if he knew you’d give in to him so easily under the pretense of teaching you, he would’ve offered his services much earlier.

He leaned in, hovering just before your lips, eyeing how your eyebrows furrowed and your lips extended further. But not a single complaint about Peter’s excruciatingly slow pace because he knows best, and he knew you knew that.

He could feel your shaky exhales on his skin as he finally connected your lips. He felt himself twitch, once, twice, at the sheer feeling of your lips pressed against his. It was harder to refrain from going further - maybe a hand up your thigh, up to your belly and to your tits, maybe wrap them around your neck…

He felt your face contort as he began to finally move his mouth against yours, your kisses were as sloppy as he’d imagined them to be. And he was correct, your inexperience made him painfully hard. He reluctantly removed his hand from your thigh and placed it on his bulge. He just couldn’t resist. You let out a high shaky breath as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, tasting you.

Peter could taste the remnants of your milk tea on your tongue. You attempted to mirror his movements and he felt another throb at your feeble efforts.

He rubbed his hand onto his hard cock to resist the urge to do something completely inappropriate like take your hand to place it on his thigh to get him even closer to his release. He didn’t believe it would take much at all for him to cum. Your mouth moving against his was more than enough.

You began to get the hang of it and it somehow made Peter’s erection even more painful. His hips involuntarily jerked as you wrapped your arms up around his neck, tugging him close. Your thigh brushed against his cock, and he sighed. You gasped, your tongue halting its sloppy movements.

He could feel you pulling back and he chased your lips, pushing into you and not permitting you to disconnect your mouths. You leaned back against the arm of the small couch in your attempt to pull away from your best friend’s lips. Peter followed you, body against yours. His cock sat on your thigh and he hoped you couldn’t feel it twitch. 

As his hips made small movements, grinding into your thigh. One of his hands wrapped around the back of your head, keeping you against him, while the other felt up your sides, resting below your tits. You let out a whiny sound as you began to kiss him back again.

Peter’s thrusts became more erratic as he drew closer and closer to the edge. He felt your thigh tense and your hips lifted off the couch, pushing into his lower abdomen. Your arms tightened around his neck. 

Your kisses were still messy, you used far too much tongue and had little technique but Peter had never had a better kiss. He came abruptly when you moaned into his mouth again, hand pulling on the hair at the name of his neck. He pulled away from you and groaned, out of breath into your shoulder as he steadied himself.

“Pete,” you breathed, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be so eager.”

Peter was taken aback. He didn’t respond as he regained his composure into your warm shoulder, inhaling your scent. His cock was slowly going soft but the proximity to you made him believe that it would shoot back up with any movement you made. 

“I just,” a pause, “I guess I got a little carried away.”

It baffled Peter that you thought any of what happened had been your fault. As if he didn’t invade your space and force your head into place so he could get himself off.

“It’s okay, bunny.”

You buried your head into his shoulder and there was no sign of parting for a while. Peter only pulled away when he felt his hot cum seeping through his pants in a wet puddle. His movements were quick when he grabbed a throw pillow and threw it over his lap.

“You know I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

+

You had spent an increasing amount of time with Harry over the last few weeks. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you’d thought he’d have grown bored of you by now. But it seemed the opposite. He texted you often, smiled at you in a way that made you feel warm and special, and he seemed genuinely interested and excited to speak to you. You hadn’t felt that way since you met Peter.

It had been the only thing on your mind for the last week. Well, that and your mess of a friendship with Peter Parker.

After the kiss shared with Peter, you had spent less time with him. On top of plans with Harry, you felt guilty for how you acted. You felt that you had taken advantage of him and his kindness. You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed and in a way uncomfortable around Peter now. You knew it wasn’t his fault, it was yours. And he deserved better.

You began to ignore his calls and texts and you took different routes to and from your classes. You even stopped replying to Ned and MJ after they began questioning where you’d run off to. In a way that comment made you feel a little ridiculous. It was like they expected Peter to be dragging you around on a leash. Like you were his little pet or something of the like.

That wasn’t Peter’s fault though. You didn’t believe anything was. Peter was a saint in your eyes. Your savior of a life of solace. That’s why you felt the worst you ever had about locking your window. 

The first night, you had pretended to be asleep when you heard light taps on the glass. You closed your eyes and ignored the noise, waiting for what felt like hours to move again. 

Now, almost two weeks later, you had finally been confronted.

Peter looked at you in a way you had never seen and couldn’t decipher. His lips were pulled in a tight line and his forehead and eyebrows were creased, his eyes looked darker and his gaze was hard and they held a different feeling. Even the air around him felt different, it was cold and suffocating.

“You’re avoiding me.”

“Hm? Oh, no, no, Pete m’not-“

“You are.”

You opened your mouth to speak but your words were caught in your throat. You were avoiding him. 

“Why? Did I do something to upset you?”

“No,” you took a deep breath, “I’ve just been busy-“

“Busy? With what? Osborn? He keeps you so busy that you can’t even respond to my texts?” 

You felt your lip quiver and your eyes welled up with tears at his tone and his unwavering stare. Peter had never reacted this way towards you. You didn’t even know he could speak that way. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, so you looked down at your feet and attempted to blink away your tears.

Peter looked down at you, waiting for you to say something, anything. He wanted - no, he expected an apology. He had been restless the past few weeks, waiting for you to respond to him. He had been following you around as New York’s friendly neighbor Spider-Man, so he was well aware of what you were up to. He watched as you found new routes to your home, hid away in obscure places, and, of course, he watched your giddy expression as Harry Osborn gripped your hand or your waist and walked around with you on his arm as if he owned you.

It didn’t help that Peter had seen you locking your window. Double-checking, triple checking that you had locked it, and then periodically again throughout the day. At first, Peter suspected that you had known he got off on your thigh that day, that you were creeped out or disgusted by him. 

“So? What is it? Why have you been avoiding me?”

You sniffled and Peter surprised himself when he didn’t soften at the noise. He didn’t feel the usual tighten of his heart nor did his stare at you become less intense. He wanted you to feel like this. It made it feel a sort of power having you vulnerable in front of him, for him.

“Y/N, I’m speaking to you. I expect an answer. Did you lose your ability to speak to me when you started fooling around with Osborn? Neglecting me? Neglecting our friendship? Does it mean so little to you?”

Tears started falling from your eyes at the sound of your name. Peter never called you that. You were his bunny, his best friend. You covered your face with your hands in shame. You weakly shook your head.

“So you can’t speak, hm?” 

Peter could think of a few ways to get you to start talking. Many scenarios to get your pretty mouth moving.

Peter had thought a lot about you recently, somehow even more than normal. His thoughts had turned alarmingly crude the more time you spent away from him. What was once an innocent daydream of kissing your lips turned into a filthy, sordid fantasy of flipping your skirt and fucking you over the table in the library where you studied with Harry.

Flashes of your mouth and body were intrusive thoughts and the feeling of them on him lingered. They left him unable to focus on patrolling, ultimately leading to him jacking off on the roof of the building across the street from your apartment. Some days, he was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of your bare legs through cracks in your sheer white curtains.

“M’sorry Peter,” you peered up at him through teary lashes, “didn’t mean to make you sad.”

He clicked his tongue, “well, you did.”

You let out a sob as you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his waist and tucking your face into his chest. His heart rate kept its steady pace and Peter stood still for a few seconds. Would he forgive you, no, could he forgive you so easily?

He focused on your warmth around him and he felt his walls lower. He begrudgingly hugged you back, taking in the feel of your curves under his fingers. He sighed, “it’s okay, bunny. Don’t cry.”

You wanted to cry harder. Normally, Peter would be cradling your face, wiping your tears, and pulling you close, enveloping you in his warmth. It was nothing like his tight grip and cold demeanor he currently had. You hadn’t meant to upset him so much but you just felt so guilty for possibly crossing or blurring the lines of your friendship. 

Peter knew he would give into you. The way you whimpered and cried into his chest made his heart feel heavy. He began to rub your back and he placed a kiss on your head. Your arms tightened around him. 

“C’mon, bunny. It’s okay, we’re okay.”

You whimpered again, doing all you could to collect yourself. Peter held you tightly until you lifted your head. 

Your face was red and puffy, wet with your tears and your eyeliner was smudged at the corners of your bloodshot eyes. Your lips were slightly opened as you breathed through your mouth. Your nose was runny and you sniffled, nose wiggling. Peter felt his pants tighten. You looked so wrecked and it was all for him. Because he was upset with you. He had that power over you.

“Are you okay?” concern filled his face.

“Mhm,” you said, shakily smiling. “Missed you.”

He smiled at you and you felt the warmth return, “I missed you more, bun. Should we catch up?”

You nodded frantically, grabbing his hand and pulling him in the direction of your apartment.

+

Things had since gotten much better. You were in Peter’s grasp once more and Harry Osborn had been moved to the backburner. 

You sighed as you switched your kettle on for a cup of tea. Peter was busy and you were stuck at home alone again. You were bored beyond belief as your eyes flickered from your TV to the warming kettle. Your foot tapped on the ground and you all but ran to your phone when the familiar ping came from it. 

Your eyes widened and excitement erupted in your belly. Harry had sent you a message.

hey stranger… u around?

You contemplated an answer. A part of you felt you shouldn’t respond but another was happy to hear from him.

Maybe

The response was instantaneous.

meet me at the bar

You smiled, rushing to your closet.

After making up with Peter you had begun to neglect your friendship with Harry. You were so focused on keeping Peter happy with you. This had become an increasingly difficult task that required a lot of time and attention.

Peter was easily bothered with you now. His patience would run thin and he would turn cold in the blink of an eye. You had spent nights crying, wishing you hadn’t ruined your most important friendship. But none of that stopped you from trying. 

You knew Peter didn’t like Harry, that was obvious. He’d roll his eyes and stare blankly at you with an expression of disappointment you had seen so much of recently whenever you would mention him in conversation. He made sure to remind you that Harry was just like other boys who wanted to take advantage of you and hurt you but he said nothing more.

As you walked into the cafe, Harry waved his arms in the air. You smiled, a blush forming as you took a seat across from him. He looked happy to see you, and he told you that. 

“I missed you, y’know,” he looked down, a pink hue on his cheeks. “Haven’t seen much of you recently.”

“Me too, um, sorry about that. I’ve been a little, um, busy.”

He looked up with a shy grin, “s’okay, I’m happy you’re here now.” You were slightly taken aback by his shyness. 

He paused, licking his lips and taking a deep breath, “so, Y/N, I’ve been thinking…”

Oh no, here it goes. He’s gonna tell you that he can’t see you anymore. That he doesn’t want to be your friend anymore. 

“Would you like to go on a date with me?”

Your heart stopped, a date? You had never been on a date before. “A date?”

He cleared his throat, looking nervous, “uh, yeah. It’s just, that I’ve been thinking about you a lot, and I missed you so much the last few weeks. So I thought I’d finally ask.”

You exhaled, trying to process his question. “Yes, I’d love to,” you said, face warm and bashful smile.

+

It was cold outside as you walked back to your apartment. Harry had offered to drive you home but you declined, wanting some time alone to think. 

Your mind was racing as you turned into the alleyway before your apartment. You were going on a date with Harry Osborn. What would you wear? What would you talk about? What would you tell Peter?

You sighed, glancing around the dark alley. There was a spider web hanging from a pipe a few steps ahead of you. You began to walk a little faster. If Spider-Man was around there was likely some sort of criminal activity. Hopefully, it wasn’t too close to home.

As you rushed into your apartment, you didn’t bother turning on the lights. You shrugged off your jacket and kicked off your shoes, sighing deeply as you plopped down onto your bed. 

“Where were you?”

Your eyes darted to the source of the noise. The streetlight peering in through the window illuminated him just a tad, barely enough to see his face. But it didn’t matter, you’d recognize that silhouette anywhere.

“Peter? How did you get in here?” You distinctly remember closing the window, locking it, and double-checking before walking out the door.

“You were out with Harry. I saw you.”

“Oh, um,” you sat up and pulled your dress down, “W-we were just getting a drink.”

He inhaled deeply and hummed, “just getting a drink.” He let out a dark laugh, “sure you were.”

“We,” you paused, “we were. I haven’t seen him in a while.”

Peter scoffed, “and that’s why you agreed to go on a date with him, hm?”

You opened your mouth to speak but he didn’t let you.

“I thought we’d gotten past this, bunny.” Peter tapped his foot. Did you feel like you didn’t need him anymore? After all, he’d done for you? All these years by your side and you abandon him for the first man who gives you the time of day.

“Why don’t you listen to me? I only want what’s best for you. For us.”

You stayed quiet, looking down at your frilly, white socks. Peter sighed and you heard him rise from his spot on the couch. He lifted your chin with his cold fingers. His eyes looked dark again and the darkness of your room added to the eerie feel of him. He leaned down, fingers light on your chin as he drew closer to your lips. You turned your face away before he could connect your mouths.

What was he doing? 

He scoffed quietly as his hold on your face tightened and forced your face to its previous position. You furrowed your brows as you tried to turn away again. 

“Pete, what are you doing?”

“I’m tired of you treating me this way. I deserve better after all I’ve done for you. All these years I have been there for you. I made sure you were okay and I loved you through it all.”

He loved you? You didn’t like the sound of that. Peter was your best friend and nothing more and you dreaded the possibility that he could think of you as something more than that.

“I know that,” you whispered, “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

A tiny smile graced his lips.

You returned it, “and I love you too Peter, you’re my best friend.”

His grip on your chin turned painful.

Best friend. 

He laughed darkly as he shook his head slightly, “best friend.” He smiled.

Feeling uneasy you smiled softly at him, forcing out a giggle.

His smile fell, “bunny, I love you. I want to be with you. I want you to be mine.”

You gulped, “um,” you looked down, “Peter, I don’t, I don’t feel that way about you.”

“Why? Because of Harry? Because you have ‘choices’ now, hm? I’m not good enough for you?”

You stayed quiet, trying to steady your breathing to keep yourself from crying as Peter used his free hand to move up your arm to your shoulder, holding it forcefully.

You didn’t even know Peter was remotely interested in you. The entire confession made you feel sick to your stomach. While you hadn’t known, the revelation didn’t change the fact that, to you, he was just a friend. This had nothing to do with Harry and his romantic interest in you.

“No, Peter, I just, I’m sorry. I don’t like you like that,” you looked down and spoke so softly you doubted he could hear you.

He scoffed, letting go of your chin and shoulder with a push. You steadied yourself, looking up to see him pacing around the room. You wanted to ask him to leave, but before you could he turned to you again.

“He could never treat you like I do.”

“Peter…”

“No! He couldn’t. I know deep down you know that. He wouldn’t know what to do with a pretty girl like you.”

You shifted uncomfortably.

Peter watched as you fiddled with the hem of your dress. It was the purple one again, his favorite. Harry would never be able to satisfy you the way he would. He just needs to find a way to let you know that. No, he has shown you. Everything he had done since you met should have shown you. You were just… ungrateful. He needed to let you know that you couldn’t get away from him. There was no one else that could love you as he could.

Your heartbeat sped up as Peter took long strides toward you. 

“He doesn’t deserve you like I do,” he shoved his knee between your own and forced them open just enough to fit his leg between them. “And I’m gonna show you, that only I know how to treat you. I know what you deserve and I can give it to you.”

You were confused and scared, you watched him cautiously as he stood before you. 

His hand reached for your hair, he touched it lightly. You let out a shaky breath. You didn’t know what he was about to do. You weren’t sure what he was capable of anymore.

His fingers caressed your face, giving your chubby cheeks a light squeeze as he moved his hand down to your neck. You let out a shaky breath as his hands ghosted over your throat.

“Peter,” you whispered, “what are you doing?” 

He smiled, “I’m gonna make you mine, bunny.”

You felt your lip quiver and you hesitantly pushed his chest, trying to get him away from you. “No, Peter. I don’t want this.”

His hands tightened around your neck, “you don’t know what you want. You’re just a dumb bunny. You don’t know what is good for you. I do.”

Tears welled in your eyes as he leaned down to leave wet kisses on your cheeks and jaw, his hands on your throat. 

You moved your face away, side to side, avoiding his lips. His grip cut off your airways as he gave you a shake, “stop.” He pushed you onto your back, attacking you with kisses. 

Tears fell from your eyes as you tried to push him back. You should’ve been able to, even if it was just a little. But he didn’t budge. Your legs kicked his own trying to get him off. He acted like you hadn’t touched him at all. You bit down on his tongue as it forced its way into your mouth, he pulled back in surprise. You took the opportunity to wiggle out from under him, moving as fast as you could towards the door.

Peter’s temper was running thin. With quick movements, he activated the web shooter tucked under the sleeve of his plaid shirt.

You barely made it a few steps when you were pulled back. Your eyes went to Peter who was seated on your bed, a cold look on his face. The sight of your hand stuck to the table left you in shock. The sticky substance was too strong for you to pull back. You began to sob as you connected the dots. 

Peter was Spider-Man.

You didn’t know how you hadn’t figured it out before. You should’ve known. The random bruises on his body, the overnight strength, and agility, the disappearances, the way he always knew where you were and what you were doing… it should’ve been obvious.

“Peter, please, let me go,” you cried, using all the strength you could muster to attempt to free your hand.

He stood from the bed and took slow steps to where you stood. “You’re my little bunny, and you’re not going anywhere until you realize that.”

As he worked to free your hand you took the other and impulsively delivered a harsh slap to his cheek. Peter didn’t react right away. He kept his eyes on your hand for a few seconds before glancing up.

“Ungrateful little bitch.”

You inhaled, trying to stare at him with the same venom that he did you. He continued to free your hand, sliding the little knife across your thumb, slicing it. You hissed in pain. 

You were so confused, this man was nothing like the Peter Parker you knew and loved. This man was pure evil and you wanted to get as far away from him as you possibly could.

Peter stared at you in disbelief. Could you not see that he was only trying to give you the best? He had to make you see it even if it meant by force. He looked into your eyes filled with fear, tearing threatening to fall and your lip quivering. He wanted you so bad and he was finally going to have you.

Peter looked down, watching the slow drops build on your fingertip before falling onto the counter. Your hand was barely trembling and he softened immediately. He hadn’t meant to cut you so deep.

“I’m sorry, bunny. Are you okay?”

His change in demeanor puzzled you, he had gone from evil to the gentle Peter you knew and loved. 

You nodded stupidly, “mhm, hurts just a little, Peter.”

“Aw, bunny,” he said softly, taking your sticky hand and bringing it to his lips.

His tender touch had you in his grasp again, like he hadn’t just assaulted you, screamed at you, cut you.

He placed a soft kiss on your bleeding finger, eyes looking lovingly into yours. You fed into it like you always did. A drop of your blood rested on his bottom lip, and you watched as he licked it up with a swipe of his tongue. 

He closed his eyes, relishing in the taste of you on his tongue. His cock twitched and he ached to taste your pretty cunt on his tongue. He wasted no time.

Before you knew it, he was throwing you to the bed with ease, flipping your skirt up. He inhaled deeply, feeling his pants tighten further by the sight of your panties. They were just as cute as you. Just what he imagined you’d wear, yet somehow it was better. Your panties were a pale pink color, little hearts a darker shade of pink littering the fabric. He couldn’t help but stare, taking in the view of your pretty panties covering your perfect, plump ass. 

Cries escaped you, pleas for him to just stop. He ignored them, instead of giving your right ass cheek a little slap. He moaned at the cry you made, the way your flesh rippled at the impact.

You had been fooled once again. The Peter Parker you once knew was long gone.

Peter looped his fingers under the delicate fabric, your skin warm, he pulled up roughly. You yelped, arching your back to relieve the pain, but it only gave Peter a better look at your puffy pussy, bulging against the fabric he had pulled. 

“Oh,” he cooed, leaning down and placing a kiss on your ass.

Tears pricked at your eyes again, threatening to fall as you tried to rack your brain for ideas on how to get yourself out of the current situation. You gasped at the abrupt feeling of cold air on your cunt. The tears began to fall.

Unable to control himself, Peter placed a sloppy wet kiss on your cunt. You gasped loudly, trying to move your ass away. He held your hips tightly in place, pressing pecks along the entirety of your backside. A strangled moan fell from your lips as he kissed your clit. 

Peter stared at your pussy, admiring the wet string of slick that drilled from your little hole. He felt a sense of accomplishment at the drip of slick, he was making you feel good even when you resisted. Extending his tongue from his mouth, he licked up your slit, flicking his tongue as he did so. He moaned at the taste of your sweet juices. 

He finally let himself loose, allowing himself to bury his head into your puffy cunt. His hands groped your thighs, kneading them, keeping them apart so he had good access to your cunt.

You tried to hold in your body’s reactions. You held your breath, curled your toes, and turned your hands to fists. But you couldn’t stop a loud mewl as Peter swirled his tongue around your sensitive bud. You bit your lip as you contained sobs. 

Your fingers grabbed onto your sheets, squeezing them tightly as you felt yourself becoming more aroused. The lewd sounds from Peter combined with the wet sounds of your pussy. Peter was essentially drooling, strings of spit and slick keeping him attached to you even when he pulled back for air. He couldn’t get enough of the taste of you.

You felt a coil form in your tummy, tightening with every passing second.

“Are you gonna cum for me, bunny?” Peter asked, his voice deep. 

Your body was trembling and your hips unconsciously pressed into his face. You shook your head, closing your eyes tightly as your mouth opened involuntarily, a loud cry slipping out as the coil snapped. You shook, your knees going weak as your body was overtaken by the pleasant, but unfamiliar sensation. 

Peter groaned into your sopping cunt as he licked up your release. His cock was so hard it was painful, his mindless humping on your sheets wasn’t nearly enough. He held you up when your body gave in, on the verge of going limp as he continued his movements on your pussy long after you had become sensitive.

“Peter, please stop, hurts,” you managed to blubber out.

He pulled away, a string of spit connecting you. He watched as it snapped, falling onto his plaid shirt. He licked his lips, sliding his arms out from under your thighs. Your lower half hit your bed and you were unable to move. Your pussy throbbed from overstimulation as you laid dumbly. Weak little moans falling from your mouth. 

Peter reached a hand up to wipe at his face, collected the excess juices, and inserted his fingers into his mouth to consume it. He savored the taste, watching as your body jolted from the aftershocks of your orgasm. The skirt of your dress was scrunched around your waist and your ass was glistening under the streetlights from where he had drooled over it. Your thighs were in the same position they were in when he dropped them. He felt himself twitch, you were too weak to move them. 

Harry couldn’t have made you cum like that. He probably would even eat you out. What a waste of a sweet cunt that would be. He could live off your pussy alone he was sure of it. 

Peter rested a hand on your lower back as he stood from the bed. You glanced over at him, relieved that he was going to leave you alone. Your tears had stopped and you felt them drying on your cheeks. 

When Peter pulled off his plaid shirt and the gray t-shirt under it, you wanted to scream. You wanted to get up and push him out of your apartment. He had just forcefully inflicted oral sex onto you and you were terrified of where he wanted to go next. 

You couldn’t help your stare at Peter’s toned body. His defined abdomen and strong arms were illuminated perfectly under the soft light. You wanted to slap yourself as you felt yourself become slightly aroused.

You managed to sit up, slowly and gently seating yourself down. You instinctively reached for your stuffed bunny. You held it to your chest as you watched Peter fiddle with his belt. “Peter,” you called quietly.

Your hair was a mess and you had faint black tracks going down your chubby face. Your lipstick was smudged. Your thick, soft arms were clinging to your bunny. The bunny he had gifted you years ago. Your dress was askew and barely covered your thighs. 

“Yes, bunny?” he pulled off his belt.

“Please stop now. I’m sorry I upset you.”

He sighed and simply shook his head. “I helped you, now you need to help me.”

Helped you? You didn’t ask for his help. 

“But-”

“Look at what you did, bun,” he pulled off his underwear as he tugged off his pants. His cock sprung free and slapped his stomach. It was big and long and thick, protruding veins ran up its length, leading to an angry red tip. You felt your lip wobble, you weren’t even sure if it would fit. “It hurts and only you can make it feel better. You caused this. It’s your fault that this is happening.”

You weren’t sure what to think. Was this your fault? 

“Lay back for me, bunny.” he motioned to the bed. “I need gonna fuck your pretty pussy.”

You shook your head. 

Peter rolled his eyes, “do what you're told, stupid bunny. Don’t act like you don’t like it. Couldn’t you feel how wet you were for me?”

You stayed in place. He clenched his jaw and grabbed your ankles, pulling you until your back hit the cushion of your mattress. You tried to kick the hold of his wrists from your feet. 

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” he felt up your thigh, eyeing you in a way that made you feel self-conscious. You felt like prey.

“I always like this dress,” he said, tugging it up your body. Peter pulled your bunny from your arms to pull the material over your head. “It’s my favorite one. Looks so beautiful on you.” 

You reached for the bunny to cover yourself but were unable to reach it. You wrapped your arms around your tummy. Peter clicked his tongue, “no.” He leaned down to press kisses over your middle and he pried your hands away for better access. You felt tears brimming.

He pulled your bra off with ease, absentmindedly as he ran his mouth over your skin. You gasped and turned away, refusing to watch. You felt his tongue find your nipple and you hated the way it aroused you. He groaned and you felt his cock against your thighs. He kneaded your breasts as he kissed up your neck. He looked you in the eye as his cock found your cunt, running up and down the slit. 

“It’s gonna feel so good, bunny. You’re gonna crave my cock after. You’re gonna realize that no one is better for you than me. Fuck, you’re so warm and soft.” 

His cock twitched on your pussy, causing you to inhale shakily. 

Peter was so ready to be inside you. The warmth your cunt radiated made his cock ache so bad. He pushed his cock through your fold, watching as your face contorted. Your hole was pulling him in as soon as his cock head reached your entrance. It was like you were made to take him. 

Your face had a pained expression painted over it and your hole contracted. 

“Relax, bunny. Or it’s gonna hurt a lot more than it needs to. You were doing so well just now.”

He was too big, the further he sank into you, the more it hurt.

He couldn’t resist the involuntary thrust of his hips. You jolted up at the strength of them. As he pulled out he looked down. The sight of your loose tits, belly rolls, and puffy pussy around his cock made him feral. The red coat of blood on his pelvis made him feel a sense of accomplishment. He had you first.

He finally had you. All of you. And he deserved it all after everything he’d done.

Peter forced his way in until he bottomed out. Relishing in the way your tight pussy squeezed him. He knew it hurt from the way you had begun to cry and the way your body shook but he didn’t care. You’d adjust. Soon you’d be a stupid cockwhore. What he always wanted you to be. All for him. 

“Ow,” you cried, reaching your hand up to his back, seeking comfort.

“You feel so good,” he moaned.

Peter began a slow pace, pulling out just a little before sliding back in. your nails dug into his back as your head moved side to side, whines, and cries leaving your lips. More and more slick came from your hole as he continued his abuse. 

Soon enough his thrusts had gotten faster, harder and your thoughts were few and far between.

Fuck. 

I don’t want this.

Feels so good.

Peter’s hands were all over you. Running up your sides, squeezing your soft skin, playing with your clit, and caressing your face as tears fell from your eyes.

You weren’t sure when you had begun to cry or whether it was due to pain or pleasure. 

Peter moved his lips to rest on yours, kissing you in sync with his thrusts. You whined, moving your face away, “no, stop.”

 His hand that rested on your bouncing tits delivered a quick, harsh slap to your cheek. You cried out, tears falling faster. Peter pinched your cheeks, forcing your mouth open. You opened your eyes, watching as he spit into your mouth, a string of spit lingering. You clenched around him.

Peter chuckled, “you liked that. Dirty slut.”

You had stopped fighting him, too caught up in the feeling of his cock in your cunt. Peter knew you would. He knew you loved him, too. 

He fit so perfectly inside you like you were meant for him.

A string of “Hm, uh, uh's” and breathy high-pitched noises fell from your lips with every thrust Peter made. The noises harmonized with the squelching sounds of your wet pussy. It was music to Peter’s ears. The prettiest noises he had ever heard.

Soon, you felt a coil in your belly. It snapped a part of you back into reality, while the other was dumb at the feel of Peter’s cock.

“Peter, hm, Peter, uh stop, m’gonna-”

Peter shushed you, sloppily kissing your neck, “cum for me.”

You were lightheaded, the feeling was too good. Peter suckled at your soft spot and you felt yourself cum with a high whine. Your orgasm was more intense this time. Your mind was blank as tears poured from your eyes and your body tensed. Your back arched off the mattress and you scratched down Peter’s back, holding him close.

Peter felt dizzy, you were everywhere. He could feel you everywhere and he had never felt such ecstasy. He twitched inside you as your cunt clenched around his cock deliciously. 

You weren’t able to contain your moans as you cried harder, salty tears saturating the sheets beneath your head as he fucked you past your orgasm.

“I’m gonna cum inside you,” he said, voice deep with desire. The way your pussy fluttered around him became too much.

“N-no,” you shakily moved your hands down to his pelvis, pushing with all the strength your weak body could muster. “P-peter, don’t want,” black mascara-stained tears streamed down your face, your lipstick smudged up to your nose, and you looked absolutely wrecked.

“I didn’t fucking ask,” his voice was near a growl, “m’gonna cum in this pretty, puffy pussy. Listen to it scream for me, pulling me back in, fluttering around me. You want this.”

You shook your head, pushing once again, you let out a choked sob as he thrusted particularly hard, “N-no.”

Peter moaned loudly, squeezing your plump waist as he stilled. 

You could feel his hot, hot cum painting your walls. You felt a weight on your heart, he had coaxed multiple orgasms from you, stolen them and your innocence along with them. And now, he was inside of you. His cum had likely forced its way into your cervix, mingling with your most intimate of places. 

A small part of you liked it. You tried your hardest to ignore that part of you that enjoyed being full. So full of Peter. He was the best for you, after all. 

Peter thrusted a few more times, dreading the thought of leaving your tight, warm hole. 

You were everything he had ever imagined. Your plump body, your sugary sweet taste, your beautiful noises…

He would never let you go.

Peter gave your limp body a final kiss. You were too fucked out to react. As he pulled out of you he stared at your puffy cunt. It was wet with slick and sweat. Cum slid out of the abused hole. He took his finger and pushed it back in, loving the way you jolted and tried to close your legs.

Peter Parker loved to look at you. Even more so now, with you bare in front of him. Your skin was glistening under the rays of the artificial streetlights outside your window and remnants of your innocence were on his cock.

[justathickblackgirl]

Please do your research! There is so much misinformation out there and a lot of lies.

Everyone should know the truth so please try to know as much as you can so you can spread awareness and help!

Free Palestine🇵🇸✌️

[justathickblackgirl]

Ô saisons, ô châteaux (1958) | dir. Agnès Varda

[justathickblackgirl]

#VENOM!

pairing: dick grayson x chubby afab!reader

word count: 800+

summary: dick comes home from a very long night, after encountering poison ivy, he can’t seem to think straight when all he can smell is you…

warnings: HEAVY SMUT!! sex pollen, dick has a big.. erm well.. dick, BREEDINGGGG, slight degradation, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, etc.), dom!dick, sub!reader, dick calls reader a fleshlight (lovingly ;p), dick's lwk a lil' mean in this but it's ok he loves you ;3

authors note: lawddd hold me back this man is bouta make me combust like all over his face SOMEONE HELP ME

“Fuckin’ hell-” Dick groaned lowly as he gripped your hips tighter, pulling your plush body back into his harsh thrusts. 

Nights like this would normally have this outcome. Dick would come home, late at night after a patrol, looking and being frustrated as anyone would be, leaving you to be his relief.

But tonight.. Wasn’t one of those nights. This wasn’t calm, or half assed thrusts into your sopping cunt as you both lay half awake in bed, no. Dick wasn’t frustrated.. He was hungry.

“Dee! S-slow down baby-!” you squealed as your manicured hand reached back, your nails lightly brushing over his toned abdomen. 

He’d been so overcome with lust that he hadn’t even fully discarded his suit, only zipping it down the middle and off his shoulders to leave it pooling at his waist, with his mask still tied around his eyes. The white, chalky glow around his eyes hiding his irises from your view. 

He roughly grabbed your hand into his and intertwined them, a sweet gesture compared to his brutal pace he was keeping up with at the moment. 

“Mine, mine, mine..” you heard him mumble as he leaned down, cooing into your ear as he pounded you from behind, the smacking of your ass against his upper thighs echoing throughout the room. 

He moaned softly at the squelch of your cunt swallowing him, a creamy white ring surrounding the base of his cock every moment he pulled out.

“D-Dick, p-please baby-”

“Gotta breed you baby.. Show all these fuckers that you’re mine and get you pregnant. You’d like that huh? All full with my baby, my cum deep inside this needy lil’ pussy, hm? You want that princess?” You felt him smirk against your skin as he never faltered, his cock reaching so deep inside you–fuck this man would be the end of you.

He may have seemed like a sweet guy, and he definitely was.. Him in bed on the other hand, he was dirty, disgusting, nasty with the way he talked. 

“You’re my lil’ fleshlight aren’t you? Just a wet little hole to stick my dick into, huh? S’all you’re good for?” 

Tears pooled at the bottom of your eyes, your pussy throbbed at his words, no matter how offended you really were from them. 

“S-S’mean Dee..” you cooed before he lifted you up to rest your back on his chest, groping your tits in one hand as the other trailed down your plump stomach and towards your pussy. 

“Mean? I would never, baby. How could you accuse me of such a thing? All I do is treat you so fuckin’ well, don’t I?” Dick mumbled as his fingers started to toy with your clit, his middle finger rubbing the sensitive nub in circles as he continued his brutal pace on your weeping cunt. “F-fuck..” he whined as he pulled away for a moment to look down at where the two of you were connected, his cum from earlier rounds already starting to pool onto the bedsheets and trailing down your thighs. “S’good to me, ya know that? Such a good girl..” Fuck it was starting to become too much for him, but it felt so fucking good..

“G-Gonna come, Dee–fuck!” you whimpered as you fell back into the sheets with your face squished against the pillows, gripping the blanket into your hands tightly. 

“F-fuckin’ come baby, come all over this cock..” He coos through clenched teeth, his nails lightly digging into your plush skin as his thrusts sped up. 

Whiney breaths leave your throat as your climax starts building, before the coil in your tummy finally snaps, your juices gushing around him as he let out a whine and threw his head back. 

“C-Come inside me, Dick–please!” you squeal with your face squished into the pillow to muffle your needy whines as his cock twitched inside you. 

“I know baby, I know–fuckk!” he groaned as you felt him release inside you, thick ropes of his cum painting your walls a creamy white, giving a few shallow thrusts before stilling inside you, pants and heavy breathing leaving both of your lips as you sat in silence. 

Despite your best efforts and hours of him being inside you, he was still.. Unnecessarily hard..

You whine as you try to crawl away from his needy hands before he grabs you by the waist and pulls you back to flip you onto your back, a few pieces of his hair stuck to his forehead as he looks down at you with a grin painting his plush lips. Gosh it’s like he was trying to kill you.

“P-please my love, let’s rest.. M’sensitive..” you whimpered as he chuckled lightly before grabbing the back of your thighs and pushing your legs towards your chest.

“Said ya’ wanted to help me..” he cooed as he leant down with his lips ghosting over yours. 

“So, help me..”

[justathickblackgirl]

Nat, congrats on the 5 and 6k followers! You deserve many more! Could you please consider writing a poly Geto/Gojo fic with them seducing Shoko's younger sibling (nonbinary and chubby please)🙏? Virgin reader, corruption kink, a bit of degradation and praise, and mild dub-con too

luck - gojo x reader x geto (9.7k)

shoko has spent her life making sure you’re okay, and you’re not going to let her down.

warnings: dark content! not sfw, minors dni. extremely dubious consent/non-consent. gaslighting, manipulation, blackmail. under the influence/heavy alcohol use. blowjobs, fingering, ‘just the tip’. explicitly chubby, virgin reader - corruption kink, degradation, praise, implied satosugu. afab reader, no pronouns

[a/n: this fic really got away with me, but this concept is something we’ve been throwing around on my blog for a while and i wanted to do it justice!]

Your big sister would never do anything that would put you in danger.

That’s why you still live with her, even as an adult; after she’d worked so hard to become a jujutsu sorcerer to support you both. That’s why she’d tried so hard to keep you away from her world, despite knowing you could see the curses that amassed at the feet of those people in the world who deserved them – and some who didn’t. She’s your protector, a knight in shining armour with a cigarette in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.

You love her. She’s given up so much for you, and you want nothing more than to make her proud. Which is why you work so hard at the university she’s paying for, why you don’t go home with any boys who try and wink at you and flirt with you, why you’re always home by nine in the evening and why a single drop of alcohol has never touched your lips.

Shoko always smiles and calls you ‘the good sibling’, as you both silently mourn a mother and father who never got to see either of you grow up – she calls herself the ‘bad influence’ and it makes you squeeze her tightly and kiss her cheek and loudly proclaim that she’s the best sister anyone could ask for.

Alright. Maybe you’re a little naive; even you know that. But you’re just . . . not interested in much outside of your studies and the occasional book and movie and making sure that you’re a credit to your name, and that Shoko feels as though she did the right thing by giving up everything she could have been in order to make sure you had your choices.

It’s also why you’ve never missed a day of classes.

Until today, that is.

Your big sister presses a cool hand against your forehead and you sigh, leaning into it. Her teeth bite into her bottom lip as she looks at your pitiful form on the couch; face washed and hair done, because you’d totally planned on going to your class, but still wearing your pyjamas. You had just needed to have a little sit down after making a single slice of toast and finding you no longer had the energy to butter it.

“You’re running a fever,” she says. You moan softly, blinking up at her through tired eyes.

“. . . ‘m not. I’ll be okay in a minute or two--”

“You will not.” Her voice is very final. Shoko doesn’t like confrontation, but she’s always been fine bullying you around a little bit. “Don’t look at me like that, kid. You’re in no state to leave the house today.”

You whine in the back of your throat, but Shoko’s eyes are already shadowed. She heaves a sigh.

You’re only two years younger than her; you wish she’d stop calling you ‘kid’.

“You probably shouldn’t be on your own if it’s this bad,” she mumbles to herself. “But I have so much work to do today--”

“I’ll be fine,” you insist, dragging your heavy limbs up. “It won’t be the first class I’ve gone to not feeling my best--”

“I could ask someone to look after you,” she’s mumbling, as if you’re not old enough to do it yourself. “Nothing strenuous, just make sure your fever doesn’t get worse, but . . . nobody’s free, I don’t think, except maybe . . .” Her frown seems to deepen a little. You’re standing by now, if a little wobbly. Has the world always been so tilted? Your vision seems a little haphazard.

“I’ll text you when I get to class,” you tell her, through the sudden ball of cotton wool in your throat. This isn’t so bad, right? It’s just a brief sickness. The fresh air will probably do you good. “Don’t fuss, Shoko--”

Strong, slim arms wrap around your middle as your (heavier, as you never fail to notice) frame gives out and you topple towards your big sister. Shoko’s stronger than she looks, though, and used to dealing with jujutsu sorcerer injuries who are often, as she tells you sometimes when she’s a little wine-flushed and willing to share stories, buff. Not that she pays much attention. She’s been pining after a cute senior jujutsu sorcerer who she sometimes goes out drinking with since she was sixteen.

“If I wasn’t fussing,” Shoko says, drily. “You’d be face-first on the floor by now.”

Petulantly, as younger siblings are wont to be, you mumble;

“Would not be.”

“Get back on the sofa,” Shoko sighs. “I’ll text someone. I . . . He wouldn’t be my first choice, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and I know he wouldn’t hurt you. He owes me a coupla favours anyway.” You’re gently deposited back into the corner of the comfortably worn sofa, and you curl your legs around you and pull a blanket over your bottom half. The pyjamas set you’re wearing is pale blue satin edged with white piping, buttoned over a chest that really is stretching said buttons to breaking point – but Shoko, seeing that you can barely stand up, doesn’t say anything about it.

“You’re calling one of your friends?” You ask her. Shoko generally keeps you as detached from jujutsu sorcery as is humanly possible, though you have met Utahime – the cute senior jujutsu sorcerer she’s been pining after – a few times when Shoko’s brought her home to continue a drinking session after the bars have kicked everyone out. Your interest is piqued. If it were Utahime, she’d have just said so. “Which one?”

Just because you haven’t met any of them doesn’t mean you haven’t been listening to Shoko tell stories about her various co-workers for years and years. You’ve built up a foundation of knowledge in your head about what all of them might be like; and you’ve seen a couple of pictures, too, that Shoko looks at with a fond smile.

“Gojo, I hope,” she says, tapping out a text on her phone. “He’s not the most responsible guy, but he owes me for dumping his paperwork and classwork on me for so long--”

Satoru Gojo is the source of a lot of Shoko’s stress; but despite this, when she talks about him, there’s always a fond smile tugging at the corner of her lips. He means a lot to her – so does her other former classmate, Suguru Geto. If Shoko trusts them so implicitly, you know they must be good people.

You’ve always kind of wanted to meet Gojo, whose escapades are the stuff of legends, even if Shoko always recounts them with an air of exasperation as if she wasn’t there as an instigator herself.

“Oh,” she says, looking down at her phone. “Yeah. Gojo’ll come and keep an eye on you until I’m done with work – I’m working late today, kid – as long as he can bring Geto. Apparently they’re working on something together.” She looks over her phone at you.

You are, after all, notoriously shy. Her eyebrows furrow in worry.

“That gonna be okay?” She asks. You can see the silent longing in her eyes that it will be – she really thinks you’re a danger to yourself if you’re left alone, it seems. But she also can’t afford to take any days off, not when even this little apartment is a struggle on her remarkably decent salary and you’ve got nothing to show for your contribution except student loans--

(Shoko had insisted that you not get a part-time job. She wants you to concentrate on school. She’d patted your hair and smiled and said; ‘You’re gonna be providing for me in my old age, after all.”)

“Y-yeah,” you confirm, nodding a little shakily. The smile of relief on her face is palpable.

“Be good for them, alright?” She says, like you’re five years old and they’re your babysitters. “I don’t want them coming complaining to me about how you’re a bitch, yeah? They’re my best friends.” You nod at her, rolling your eyes. You really do feel a lot better tucked in on the couch. Maybe Shoko is right, and it’s a good thing that you’re foregoing responsibilities for today.

“Yeah, I won’t be a brat, I promise.”

Shoko laughs one of her scratchy cigarette laughs and reaches out to pat you on the shoulder.

“Nah,” she says. “You never are.”

Shoko wants only the best for you – you know this. She would never introduce you to anybody who might want to hurt you. You would never do anything to endanger the precious few friendships that she’s managed to make with her difficult life as a jujutsu sorcerer so likely to end them before they’ve even begun.

And she always talks about Gojo and Geto like they’re her partners in crime, like they keep her smiling through the more difficult days – yeah. You’re going to do your best to leave a good impression on them. And you’re sure they’ll do the same for you.

Because nobody Shoko trusts with you is going to turn out to have ulterior motives, right?

The first thing you notice about Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto is that both of them are gorgeous; tall, lean, dressed in casual everyday clothes that you think cost more than anything in your wardrobe. Gojo has the prettiest pair of blue eyes you’ve ever seen, and Geto has a cascade of dark, shiny hair that you really want to run your fingers through just to see if it’s as soft as it looks.

The first thing both of them notice about you--

The first thing Gojo notices about you is that your pyjama shirt is stretched tight over a generous, soft chest – buttons practically straining to be undone, a peek of collarbone and the swell of soft, round skin like a temptation that he wants to sink long fingers in.

The first thing Geto notices about you is your full thighs, where he can see just a sliver of them beneath the blanket on the couch. Your shorts are cut high up your legs, and Geto knows that your thighs would be soft and pliable and malleable were he to get his hands on you.

Gojo and Geto exchange brief looks with each other as you blink up at them and manage an achingly polite hello - even with the familiar tension that belongs to someone who’s shy making you set your shoulders a little too far forward. Your voice, even dulled and scratched by your illness, is soft and nervous. You seem a little too afraid to properly look at them.

They have always known Shoko is protective of you, but this is something else. They certainly weren’t expecting to agree to look after you for the day and to walk into Shoko’s home to be confronted by the sweetest, softest, most naive little thing they’ve ever had the impulse to ruin.

It’s all contained in that look they give one another. The way you try to offer them something to drink despite the fact that they don’t think you could stand up straight. The fact you say you’ve heard so much about them, the way you thank them for being such good friends to Shoko--

They could wrap you around their little finger and you wouldn’t say a word. Too sweet for your own good. Too trusting for your own good. Geto and Gojo both feel the impulse, low down inside of themselves like a pulsing ache, to use that to their advantage.

Gojo flops himself down on the other end of the sofa to you, all thoughts of the discussion that he had been planning to have with Geto whilst looking after Shoko’s sure-to-be bratty kid sibling (Shoko always calls you ‘kid’ – looking at you and realising you’re only a few years younger than they are is a surprise) gone out of his head in favour of ingratiating himself, slowly, into your brain.

“Wow,” he says, leaning forward, placing the back of his hand against your forehead – you squirm for a moment, clearly uncomfortable with the physical contact, before you seem to remind yourself that you’re being good for Shoko’s friends for Shoko’s safe, and you let him do it. “You’re really hot.”

Geto stifles a smile at the double meaning even as he elegantly settles into a chair opposite.

“They have a fever, Satoru,” Geto reminds him. “They’re probably not even fully aware that we’re here.”

Your face scrunches adorably. It’s an expression they’ve never seen on Shoko; unique to you, they suppose. To them, at that moment, it seems like Shoko is a dragon who has been hoarding a very precious treasure away from them. But Shoko doesn’t know about this part of them – the part that wants to slowly tear innocence apart until pretty eyes blink back tears and pretty mouths are glossy and open and longing to be kissed – or she would never have asked them to do this.

More fool her, Geto supposes.

“I am--” You insist, sounding a little petulant. “I’m not . . . an invalid--”

“Shoko certainly seems to think you are,” Geto points out. “Or we wouldn’t be here.”

Oh, that’s interesting – the way your shoulders deflate. The slightly morose tone as you murmur;

“. . . Yeah. I know. I told her not to worry, but . . .”

Oh, that’s just darling. You’re afraid of being a bother to your big sister. Geto briefly looks up at Gojo, who has pulled his hand away and is rifling in his bag for something. Those ice blue eyes meet his for just a moment, though, and Geto knows both he and Gojo are on the same wavelength.

If you’re afraid of being a bother, you’ll be far too scared to mention anything untoward to your big sister lest she feel like you’re the one who’s led her best friends astray. You’ll keep that sweet mouth shut in the fear that Shoko would be angry at you for leading them on and ruining a friendship. The thought is too delicious.

“Shoko said you hadn’t eaten anything today,” Gojo says, “so I picked these up on the way.”

Geto isn’t surprised to see that he pulls a box of mochi out.

“That’s not a suitable breakfast,” he sighs, but he keeps his eyes on Gojo’s long fingers as he delicately picks up one of the little round balls. “We could at least see if Shoko has any eggs or anything.” The suggestion falls flat – Geto knew it would, as he’s never actually seen Gojo cook anything. Instead, Gojo eats a mochi in one bite and looks at you.

“When you’re ill,” he says, “making yourself feel better with sweets is practically a requirement. D’you want one?”

You look at the pink mochi that Gojo holds between his fingers. You do have a sweet tooth – and your poor unbuttered slice of toast weighs heavy on your mind. You hesitantly nod, reaching out to take it – only for Gojo to laughingly tap your fingers away.

“Don’t be silly,” he says, shifting closer to you on the sofa, pulling your blanket off your legs. “I’ll feed you. We don’t want you to get fatigued, do we?”

You’re clearly nervous. Geto and Gojo can’t help but find it adorable; the way panic flares in your eyes, the way that a finger tugs at a loose thread on your shorts (now Geto has an eyeful of your thighs, it’s taking all of his willpower to keep his gaze on your face).

“G-Gojo-san,” you say, and you fight back the urge to bite your lip. “I—I’m--”

“Shh,” Gojo says, his smile not leaving his face. “Open your mouth. And you can call me Satoru, I don’t mind--”

You’re too shy to protest. You don’t want Geto and Gojo to think you’re rude, after all – you open your mouth, and Gojo presses the sweet treat into it, cooing soft noises as you take a bite and his thumb brushes your lips. You can feel the heat of him where he’s pressed against your leg radiating through your skin.

You pull your face back after taking the bite, feeling like you’re heated all over. Chew, you remind yourself, but Gojo’s eyes on you are so insistent you almost choke.

“Satoru,” Geto says, almost chidingly. “You’re scaring them.”

“Oops!” Gojo giggles and pulls back. “Sorry! I guess I can be a bit full on, huh?” He pops the other half of the mochi you’ve taken a bite from into his own mouth, one hand going up to nervously scratch the back of his neck. “Sorry if I did scare you--”

A dull edge of fear makes itself known across the back of your skull. You don’t want them to feel disappointed in you – what if they tell Shoko, and she gets mad about it? You swallow again and whisper;

“N-no, it’s fine, sorry. I’m . . . k-kinda shy, I guess?”

(As if Geto and Gojo couldn’t tell that themselves. Geto resists the urge to smile to himself; Gojo is always so good at casting them in their roles; the man is never afraid to make the first move. He’s not surprised that Gojo already has you apologising for his own transgressions. People always end up doing what the silver-haired sorcerer wants.)

“Don’t worry about it,” Gojo pats your bare leg. The gesture is supposed to be comforting; if you think that his fingers linger a little too long on how soft the plush of your thigh is, you don’t mention anything. “We don’t mind!” He chuckles, and suddenly he’s poking a finger into the roundness of your cheek. “It’s cute! Isn’t it cute, Suguru?”

Geto gives you a smile that’s all reassurance. You find yourself instinctively trusting him; calmed by his more peaceful, cool presence. It’s not that you don’t like Gojo, you tell yourself fiercely, just that he really is very intense--

“Very cute,” Geto agrees. “Not at all like Shoko.”

Because Shoko would never let Gojo continue to hand-feed mochi into her willing mouth – would certainly say something about how Gojo’s big hand splays over bare skin and his eyes keep wandering to the exposed sliver of your chest and neck. Would never let Geto come to take her temperature and say nothing when his hand stroked far too tenderly over the crown of her head.

It’s a very good thing, both of them think, that you’re nothing like Shoko.

You’re something, Geto thinks, to be handled delicately.

They could have pushed you further that first day – but both of them look at one another and come to the agreement that breaking and bending you to their will is something that needs to be taken time over. You are something to be savoured; a precious jewel that’s been under their noses the whole time, finally ready to be plucked. So they’re a little bit too physical with you, yes – Gojo says teasing things about how you’re cute and Geto gives you some of his patented slow, lazy smiles – but they don’t go too far.

When Shoko finally makes it home, she’s glad to see that you’re looking much better – when she takes your temperature, it’s very close to normal. She puts her hands on her hips and asks you if you gave her friends any trouble, and Gojo could kiss her for making things so easy for them both.

“They’re no trouble at all,” Geto says, giving you a small smile. “Feel free to call again if you need to.”

“I d-don’t need babysitting,” you say, softly. “I’m a grown-up.”

Gojo murmurs into Geto’s ear, as the two of them turn to leave; “They sure are.”

Your plea to Shoko is ignored, much to Geto and Gojo’s great pleasure. In fact, they start coming around more often in general – even when Shoko is in. Now that they’ve met you, she figures, there’s no reason trying to keep your place as a sanctuary away from jujutsu sorcery when it would be so much more comfortable for them all to be able to drop in and talk there.

Gojo and Geto are both very careful. Their eyes linger on you, their smiles curling like plumes of smoke, hands occasionally brushing you just gently enough for them to claim that it’s an accident – but never when Shoko is watching. They wait for their chance, and whilst they wait, they gently get you used to their presence. They make sure, when they can, to throw in stories of times that they’ve saved Shoko’s life – just so, when they make their grandest move, you will remember how much Shoko owes them, and keep your mouth shut about just what her friends are thinking of her sweet little sibling.

And you are sweet.

The longer they spend at yours and Shoko’s home, the more they pick up about you. They know that you’ve never had a boyfriend or a girlfriend – once, when Shoko is in the kitchen pouring drinks, they wheedle from you that you’ve not so much as kissed another human being. You don’t seem to realise what the sight of you in form-fitting clothing does to them – they realise, a little later on, that it’s because you don’t see yourself as an object of desire.

Oh, Gojo and Geto would both disagree with that. Both of them have excused themselves to the bathroom and wrapped their hands around their shafts and thought of you – the tremulous whimper of your nervous voice, the way your eyes widen, the sight of soft fabric stretched over curves. You don’t realise that they’re ogling you when Shoko isn’t looking because you don’t think you have anything to ogle.

You’re just too cute.

So they bide their time, and they set their traps. Shoko’s an overprotective sister, sure, but she’s never been overbearing – they find out that you’re allowed to go out, whenever you want . . . you just seem to prefer to stay inside.

Geto murmurs one night that there’s no way you’re not as virginal as the driven snow, and Gojo adjusts the stricture in his jeans and has to agree. The thought of being the people to claim that innocence like a prize has both of them practically salivating.

Shoko is asked to accompany another sorcerer on a mission in Yamagata; her technique is so useful, and they’re fearful that there’s some kind of dangerous cursed spirit in the mountains that her healing may be needed for. There’s already a Grade One sorcerer there, but they need backup, and Shoko is the ultimate backup to have back at base in case of injury. It’s not too bad – a three hour train journey, four by car – but it’s an opportunity, in which you’ll be alone. Shoko won’t be home until late.

They don’t leave a trail that can be easily found. Geto drops by in the morning after Shoko has already left, ostensibly to bring her breakfast – but finds only you. You trust him enough to let him in – Shoko would never let you be outright rude to him – and the two of you share the coffee and pastries (“I’m afraid it’s Satoru’s tastes having an effect on me,” he says, mournfully, and the little smile that he wins from you is utterly thrilling. He feels it down between his thighs as he imagines you flashing him it before you get on your knees.)

“Satoru and I are going out drinking, tonight,” he says, casually – noticing how your shoulders tense at the mention of alcohol. You don’t need to know, yet, that Gojo will only be drinking melon soda. “We were wondering if you wanted to come with us.”

You peek up at him from beneath dark lashes, wetting your lip as you whisper;

“I—I shouldn’t . . .”

Geto gives you an indulgent smile. He reaches over the table, his fingers sliding up your bare knee to the softness of your thigh – it’s early enough that you’re still ruffled and sleepy in whatever you wore to bed, despite the warm cup of coffee cradled between your fingers. This time, it’s a nightgown that is trimmed with soft lace, that displays so much of the curve of your breast that Geto can barely hold himself back.

But Gojo would kill him if he got started without the other man, so he satisfies himself with letting his fingertips dip a little too close to your inner thigh, and in committing the little gasp you make to memory as he pulls back with another of those smiles.

“You can’t hide from the world forever,” he chides you. “You deserve to have a little fun, too.”

“I don’t want to be a bother,” you admit to him. “I don’t want to make Shoko worry about me.”

Geto’s smile doesn’t fade at all.

“You’ll be with us,” he says, as he stands. “What could be safer? We wouldn’t let anything happen to you, sweetheart.”

(They call you pet names often; every time, they revel in the strange duck of your head, the way they imagine your face heats up, the way you bite back a smile at being noticed by your big sister’s handsome friends).

“I—Are you sure?” You ask him. “I’ve never drunk or anything before.”

Oh, be still his beating heart.

“Of course,” he reassures you. “We’ll take care of you.”

If only you’d known just how different their definition of ‘taking care of you’ was going to be from what you expected.

You’ve lost count of how many glasses Geto has pushed into your hand with the reassurance that they’re not strong at all, you’re basically just drinking pure sugar. You’re pretty sure Gojo’s drunk as much of the bright green concoction he keeps ordering as you’ve drunk, and he seems fine, so you guess Geto is right and your tolerance is just really low.

The two of them had picked you up at eight, their eyes roving appreciatively over the surprisingly tight-fitting outfit you’d picked out from your wardrobe, giving you a burst of confidence. You’d bought it when you’d first started classes, imagining yourself going out drinking with your friends – but you’d tried it on in front of the mirror, once, and hated how it clung to the curves of your hips and your stomach. Geto and Gojo are very sweet as they tell you how nice you look in it – and if Gojo’s hand roves down, palming your ass as he urges you along, you assume it’s an accident because you guess you do have quite a lot of ass to be touched.

Your head feels fuzzy and warm, your skin prickling with ever-present heat as you find yourself giggling at something Gojo has said and resting your head on Geto’s arm. You pull back a little, blinking at said arm – at how Geto’s sweater clings to the tight muscles of his bicep. You giggle softly, bringing a hand up to poke at it – rock-solid. Geto tips his head to the side, giving you a smirk.

“Feel something you like, darling?” He asks you.

“It’s so hard,” you say, your syllables drawn out and slow – you, clearly, are concentrating very hard. Gojo shifts in his chair at the way you say it.

Geto’s musculature isn’t the only thing that’s hard right now.

“The rest of me is, too,” Geto murmurs, taking hold of your hand and guiding it over his chest. Gojo swallows his jealousy as you totter onto both legs to get a better feel, not realising how your skirt has ridden up to reveal the slightest flash of black lace underwear. He knows that the thigh-high socks you’re wearing have been driving Geto to distraction all night, and as you practically straddle his knee to get a feel of his pectorals, Gojo admires his self-control.

Or not. One of Geto’s hands curls around your thigh, fingertips pressing into the soft flesh. Gojo’s cock gives a twitch in what he’s wearing at the sight of it as he imagines the other man pinning spreading them wide to get at the soft, sweet space nestled betwixt them.

You giggle again.

“S-Suguru—” You slur, batting your eyelashes.

You’re plastered, Satoru realises. All of the doubles and triples (“Just sugar, I promise”) that Geto has been ordering for you have taken their toll, and you’re unsteady on your feet and giggly and bright, practically draping yourself all over Geto – and Gojo, too, he decides, wrapping his hands around your wrist and tugging you to him.

“Hey,” he says, complaint leaking into his tone. “A guy’s gonna think you don’t like him at all.”

You gasp in mock horror. You’ve never been so bold before. It’s adorable.

“O-of course I like you,” you say, your lip pushing into a pout that Gojo immediately wants to hook his fingers into so he can pry your jaw open and make you suck on his cock. “I like both of you! You’re such good friends t-to Shoko!”

That’s it. The right moment for the two of them to put their plan into motion.

“I’m afraid,” Geto murmurs, standing – two hands coming to rest on your waist. “That we like you quite a lot, too.”

Your pretty eyes widen curiously. Gojo joins in, his tone mournful.

“Maybe too much,” he sighs. “But you just have no idea what you do to us, dollface.”

“Oh,” you say, still blinking wide. “I’m sorry--”

“Yeah,” Gojo breathes, his own hands curving on your hips beneath Geto’s. Being sandwiched between the two of them makes you feel warm and important and special. “C’mere, gimme your hand—”

Gojo pulls your hand down to rest over his crotch, hissing out a gasp as your warm palm provides much-needed pressure to the hard and aching shaft between his thighs. Your mouth drops open.

“You did that,” Geto murmurs, into your neck. The pleasant buzz of alcohol seems to take on a dangerous knife edge; a wasp too close to your ear. “Can you imagine how much it’s hurting him to be that hard?”

Oh, Geto is going with the old ‘blue balls’ trick. Nobody they’ve tried to entice to their bed has fell for that since they were students – but you, sweet, naive to the ways of the world, you . . . You look at Gojo with your eyebrows all drawn in and worry etched on that pretty face that he’s cum to the thought of more times than he can count.

“Does it hurt?” You breathe. Gojo pouts and nods. “What can I do?”

“You’re so sweet,” Geto purrs. “You’re such a good little thing. You know it’s your responsibility, don’t you? That you can’t just go around getting men all riled up and not doing anything about it.”

Your throat is very dry, but you nod, whispering something that Gojo doesn’t quite hear about how you just want to help him--

Geto presses himself against your back, making you aware that his erection is going to need some tending to, too – your eyes widen even more, a touch of panic in your gaze, but Gojo sees the thoughts that flicker through your mind as if they are as clear as day.

If you don’t help them, and it hurts – what will Shoko say? That you injured her two best friends? She’s always telling you not to be a bother to them, and you can’t think of anything more bothersome than causing them pain. If this is really your fault, surely you should help them make sure it doesn’t hurt any more--

Perfect. You’re absolutely perfect. Geto wonders how long they can keep this up – you’re such an eager to please, naive thing, that he thinks the threat dangled over your head that of course Shoko would hate to know you were tempting them and then leaving them high and dry will last for far more than just this one time.

He’s counting on it, actually.

“Please,” your hands fist in Gojo’s shirt, your eyes practically trembling with tears. Your plump lower lip wobbles. “I want to h-help—”

Both of them feel their cocks throb at that. Geto chuckles against your ear, gently nipping at it with his teeth as he murmurs;

“Then I’m afraid we’ll have to take this somewhere else.”

“You’ve never sucked a dick before, huh?” Gojo is shameless as he undoes his trousers, pulls out his hard cock and gives it some cursory pumps. You’re half-dazed by the sight of it – it hadn’t been difficult to get you out of the bar, nodding at the doorman who clearly thought they were being responsible for getting you out of there before you got any more soft and giggly. He’d seen them enter with you, after all.

It wasn’t hard to get you into their shared bedroom, either – get you knelt between them on the floor, all wide-eyed and pretty with your lips soft and glossy in the darkness.

“N-no,” you confirm. “I don’t think I sh--”

“Remember,” Geto murmurs, tone glass-shard dangerous. “You did this. It’s your responsibility to do something about it.”

Your attention shifts back to Gojo’s cock. You’ve never seen one before, but you suppose – like the rest of him – Gojo’s is pretty. It’s slender but long, as pale as his skin but dusted with pink and ruddy at the tip where a bead of liquid is dribbling out of the slit. Gojo’s smiling down at you like the cat that’s gotten the cream.

“W-what if I do a bad job?” You whisper, your throat dry. Gojo chuckles.

“Don’t worry, doll,” he says, his hand curving around the back of your neck, pulling you in. “I’ll tell you how to do it. Just open your mouth, okay? Stick your tongue out.”

He taps the head of his cock on your waiting tongue, and a musky and decidedly masculine, salty taste floods your mouth. Against your will, you feel your lower body throb, as if it knows exactly what you’re doing and what it often leads up to. Gojo sighs, the hand not on you coming to rest on the back of the bed.

“That’s right,” he breathes. “Give it a few licks.” You hesitantly stick your tongue out, tracing the seam of the glans – like a kitten, unsure of its first saucer of milk. Gojo looks down at you with half-lidded eyes. Oh, your tongue feels nice on his aching shaft – but far more satisfying is the sight of finally having you where you belong, with his cock in your mouth. “Open wider – take it inside and give it a suck, yeah?” You nod, sliding yourself further along – your eyes squeeze shut for a moment, evidently not expecting to have to open your jaw so wide. You do your best to suck on his cock like a lollipop, and his hips cant forward as a soft groan of pleasure escapes him.

“Suguru,” he breathes. “their mouth is fucking incredible.”

He can practically feel your cheeks heat up from where he’s snug inside of your mouth – you’re so predictably innocent, liking being told you’re doing a good job.

“It looks it,” Geto says, amused. You’re too busy trying to keep your tongue at something vaguely resembling a rhythm to notice as he sinks to his knees beside you and his hands tug at the hem of your dress, pulling it up over your hips to reveal the black lace underwear that so enthralled them earlier.

You only gasp around Gojo’s cock when Geto gives your soft, rounded ass a sharp spank.

“What slutty underwear,” Geto murmurs. “Almost like you wanted us to see it, I’d say.”

You make a negative noise around Gojo’s cock as if to disagree with his assessment, but then his fingers are digging into the meat of your ass again and he’s chuckling.

“Maybe you’ve been a desperate little virgin this whole time, hmm?” He breathes. “Teasing us on purpose? Whatever would your sister say?”

“Don’t talk about her,” Gojo groans, the hand on your neck pulling you further in, so more of his length is stuffed into your mouth and you can barely breathe. You whine desperately, pawing at his thighs, but that just makes Gojo groan harder. “Fuck, Suguru, you’ve gotta let them suck yours--”

Clever fingers hook into your underwear, pulling them down – a soft clicking noise issuing from behind you.

“My, my,” Geto says, and there’s a lazy kind of condescension that leaks into his drawl. “Someone has been enjoying themselves.”

You jerk when one of those fingers slides over the part of you between your legs that nobody but you has ever touched; cool and long and elegant, dipping between the plump lips of your labia to gather slick on the pads of his fingertips. His hand is pulled away, and there’s the wet noise of fingers meeting mouth.

“Mm, darling,” Geto drawls. “You taste delicious.”

“Fuck,” Gojo frowns. “Loosen up, cupcake.” You look up at him with those tear-brimming doe eyes, and he sighs as he cants his hip forward and moves his other hand to rub circles on your neck. “It’s nice when you’re tight, but your throat feels like you’re gonna snap my dick off--”

He’s disappointed, you realise, dimly, through the cloud of unwanted arousal. He’s disappointed, and if he’s disappointed in you--

You will yourself to relax, and he sighs as he’s able to push another inch of himself into you.

“Much better,” he groans, his hips sliding into a rhythm now. The hand on the front of your throat doesn’t ease, though, and when his thumb brushes your larynx almost menacingly, you redouble your efforts at sucking on what you’ve been given to suck on.

Geto’s fingers are back between your legs, parting the lips of your cunt.

“Oh, you’re pretty,” he chuckles. “Untouched treasure, hmm? We’ve really lucked out on this one, Satoru.”

Gojo’s hips are simply getting faster and faster. You can feel yourself practically choking around him, your airways feeling restricted to the point of light-headedness.

“You can say that again,” Gojo groans. “Shit, angelface, better be ready--”

Your mouth is not free to ask ‘ready for what’ – instead, Gojo grabs you by the back of your neck and slams his hips against you, the head of his cock bumping against your throat as the shaft in your mouth twitches wildly and suddenly there’s a salty coating of something thick and viscous being shot directly down your throat.

“Satoru—” Geto’s voice is a frustrated groan. “Couldn’t you have held on a little longer—”

“You couldn’t if you’d seen’em sucking your cock,” Gojo pants, chasing the last dregs of his relief.

Geto murmurs;

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Be good and swallow for us, alright?”

You don’t know what else you can do, as you tearfully follow the instruction. It feels hot sliding down your throat, the salt making your mouth feel dry. Gojo, mercifully, pulls out his cock and lets you take great gulping mouthfuls of air for the first time.

You can’t breathe. You shouldn’t be doing this. Geto’s fingers, between your thighs, stroke over that nub that always seems to pulsate with need, and your entire body seems to seize up for a moment.

“That’s right,” Geto’s careful, calming drawl is right by your ear. “Doesn’t that feel good?”

He repeats the motion, fingers circling. You’re still on your knees, half-knelt over Gojo’s lap – the silver-haired sorcerer pets your cheek affectionately.

“Just relax and enjoy it,” he suggests to you. “Suguru’s incredible with his fingers. His mouth, too.” Gojo heaves a dreamy sigh. “I wonder if he’ll let me watch him eat you out, later--”

“Save some for next time,” Geto chuckles. The constant circles his fingertips are tracing onto your clit are making you feel dizzy with need – stoking a hot fire between your thighs that you’ve felt before, but never so intensely. You feel light-headed and unsure of yourself, a soft whimper of pleasure escaping you as you feel something slender and solid push inside of your cunt. “Oh,” Geto breathes. “You’re a tight fit.”

He feels you clench around the single fingertip inside of you and can barely wait to feel you clench around his cock; you whine, rocking forward as if to get away from the newly breaching digit, forgetting that it’s Gojo in front of you whose soft cock your cheek is rubbing against. The other man laughs in delight.

“Eager for more already?”

“You’re doing well,” Geto says, ignoring Gojo. “I’m going to put another finger inside of you, alright?” You make a noise that might be an affirmative, your forehead pressed against Gojo’s thigh. All of these feelings all at once are too much for you, as Geto pulls his finger almost all of the way out only to push two in beside each other on the push back in.

Your hips swivel and Gojo laughs, a hand coming to pat you on the head like a favoured pet.

“If you can’t take those,” he tells you, “you’re never going to take Suguru’s cock--”

“Don’t scare them,” Geto says, mildly. The finger playing with your clit speeds up as he curls his fingers inside of you, the fingertips brushing against a part of your inner walls that has you choking back a gasp against Gojo’s leg. If you weren’t so deeply buried in the man’s lap, you perhaps would have seen the look of pure lust that the two of them shared over your prone, boneless body.

“You’re going to cum on Suguru’s fingers,” Gojo asks, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up. Your eyes are glassy, your lips swollen. He can tell from the shake in your body and the trickle of drool sliding from the corner of your mouth that you’re close. “You’re going to cum, and you’re going to thank him for being good to you, yeah?”

Geto snorts.

“That’s not necessary,” he says. “Them cumming will be quite enough--”

You whine-whimper-moan, your hips jerking suddenly as the ball of heat in the centre of your stomach finally seems to implode upon itself and pleasure, dizzying and desperate, rushes through you. You find yourself slurring out;

“Th-thankyousuguru—”

And a bolt of heat goes through Geto at the submissive words. Alright. Perhaps from now on, it will be necessary for you thank him for letting you cum – you do sound so sweet when you’re fucked out like this.

He pulls his fingers out of you, two pairs of strong arms not quite letting you fall onto the floor. Your form is carefully moved onto the bed, rolled onto your back.

“Suck,” you hear Geto say, and you blink back the fuzz of coming to see that Gojo’s mouth is stuffed full of the two fingers that Geto had inside of you not one minute ago. The blue-eyed sorcerer moans, and you feel your stomach give a throb of arousal. You still feel so fuzzy! You still don’t know what’s going on, other than the fact that you shouldn’t be doing this but it feels so good.

Geto settles himself between your thighs, and your eyes widen as you realise that he, too, has his cock out.

His is bigger than Gojo’s; both longer and thicker, practically weeping fluid as those strong, clever hands tug you closer by your thighs.

He takes a few moments to simply touch them – to skim fingertips over the silky softness of your skin, for his thumbs to circle the wetness that soaks your inner thighs. He’s sighing as he does it, as if he’s doing something he’s wanted to do for a very long time.

“S’not fair,” Gojo grumbles. “Why d’you get to fuck ‘em first?”

“Because you’re a brat who can’t control himself?” Geto asks, raising one eyebrow. Your own mouth drops open, and you find yourself stuttering--

“P-please, s’too big--”

Geto looks at you with a touch of pity in his eyes.

“Don’t worry,” he soothes, gently. “I’m going to be careful with you.”

“S-Suguru!” Your wounded eyes seek the other man’s too. “Satoru! I—I c-can’t, I’ve never--”

“Shh.” Gojo climbs onto the bed, situating himself by your head. You’re gently manipulated, so that the same head lies in his lap. “Y’know we’d never hurt you, right?”

A hand strokes softly, reassuringly across your forehead. Geto moves closer, but panic is flaring in between all of the fuzziness and pleasure that makes you feel so frightened you can barely breathe. The cock that Geto is carefully adjusting is so big, and he’d already said one of his slim, elegant fingers was a tight fit.

“Suguru,” you whimper, again. “Please--”

“Just the tip, okay?” He says to you. “Let me just fuck you with the tip, sweetheart. Satoru got to cum in your pretty mouth, didn’t he? So don’t I deserve to get to cum too?”

That last phrase has a bite to it.

“Just because I’m their favourite,” Gojo snarks, only to be stopped by a cold look from Geto. You’ve never seen Geto look like that – he’s always gentler with you than Gojo is, pulling the flirtier, handsier man back from the brink when he can see your discomfort. You suppose, at your heart, you thought that begging Geto would perhaps make him pause in what he’s doing to you.

You have no such luck.

“You want to please me too, don’t you?” Geto asks, and – helplessly, thinking of them telling Shoko that you’re a useless brat, thinking of losing Shoko two of the only friends she has, you nod. “Good. Good.”

The very head of his cock catches against your entrance and you tense. Geto pauses, not even inside of you – and Gojo’s hands crawl over your shoulders, to gently squeeze the softness of your breasts. His cock is pressing against the back of your head, probably soaking pre-come into your hair – but he’s far too interested in the way the soft flesh of your chest gives under his fingers.

Geto pushes himself a little further forward and you whine. You can feel him, parting your sex – pushing you open wider than you’ve ever been before. Geto hisses out an epithet – but he pauses, as the head of his cock is finally swallowed up by your tight hole with a slick pop.

Relief floods your body like sweet, cold water on a desert-hot day. Geto wouldn’t lie to you. Geto has put the tip of his cock inside of you, but he’s not going to go any further. Your body relaxes. Your mouth is half open to thank him--

And he pushes himself inside the rest of the way, with one smooth, commanding motion.

You yelp, trying to launch yourself up – but you’re stopped by Gojo’s fingers, kneading into your breasts, and Geto’s hands with their strong grip upon your thighs. You’re helpless between them, as Geto pulls out and drives in again.

“Y-you promised--” You’re sniffling, whimpering, tears rolling helplessly down your face. Geto groans, his hips smoothly continuing to seek out rhythm.

“I don’t think he did, angel,” Gojo tells you. “I think you put that on him yourself – jujutsu sorcerers don’t go back on vows, y’know--!”

“I just knew you’d need some convincing,” Geto groans. “Doesn’t it feel good, sweetheart? Because you feel fucking fantastic--”

Some of his manners have been peeled away, now that he’s buried as deep inside of you as he can go. There’s an echo of Gojo’s mocking smirk in the way he’s talking to you now, hips pumping hungrily into you.

You hate, most of all, that it does feel good.

There’s still a stretch – like you’re being pushed to your very breaking point, and might split apart on the cock that’s impaling you at any moment – but it’s a good stretch, the veins and ridges of his cock stoking fires inside of you that you didn’t even realise that he was capable of.

Geto can tell that you like it, too; his face has a soft smile on it, as he looks down at you, that might almost be called tender in other circumstances.

“You can let go,” he murmurs. “I know it feels good--”

Your hips meet his. Maybe you should let go. What good is thinking too much about what they’re doing to you and whether it’s morally correct? What’s done is done – and you don’t want to make Shoko’s friends mad at you, or worse; mad at her. Geto and Gojo are both enjoying your body – and they keep reassuring you that it’s for you, that it feels good for you, that you’ve been teasing them and you should take responsibility for your actions--

“Good,” Gojo purrs. “That’s right, angel. Enjoy yourself--”

Your hips move against Geto’s as if they’re possessed by a force that you can’t see, and the other man is clearly entranced by it. Geto’s determination is single-minded, as he pumps into you – as he leans down and kisses your neck, lathes more kisses down your throat – briefly brushes those same lips against your own mouth, slick and messy with drool. When his tongue licks into the cavern behind them, you open your lips willingly, letting him explore – wondering if he can taste Gojo in you.

“Fuck, Suguru,” Gojo’s saying – but it feels very far away, like you’re hearing it underwater. “You two look so good together--”

“Next time we can fuck them together,” Geto says, his hips beginning to increase in speed. “I want a photograph of your cock in their mouth--”

You don’t even have it in you to whine, or moan protest – the slap of Geto’s hips and balls against you, the way that his toned pelvis keeps rubbing against your heated clit, is all too much for you. You’ve never done this before, and your body is already sensitive and trembling even without these two men seeming to know exactly how to play you like a finely tuned piano.

Geto fucks into you, hungrily, the wetness of your cunt and the squelch of your arousal echoing loud in the room – and you’re pushed over the edge with a final stroke, your body clenching and spasming around his cock where it’s buried inside of you.

“You cumming already?” Geto groans, his hips jerking into yours with no rhyme or reason. “Ahh, you’re even tighter--”

You feel like you’re sucking his cock in, milking it for all it’s worth – and Geto seems to agree, because you feel his cock move and then suddenly you’re being filled.

It’s just as hot and thick as when Gojo had spilled his release into your mouth, but directly inside of you this time – seeming to lie, hot and heavy, over your inner organs as Geto’s cock keeps it pressed deep inside of you. The dark-haired man collapses over you, cock still pulsing weakly, your breaths and panting intermingling into a symphony. Gojo has the sense to let go of your sore chest – the one he’s been kneading whilst Geto is fucking you, playing with your nipples until they feel raw-hot and aching.

“You did so good,” You hear Gojo say – and you don’t know if he’s talking about Geto or you.

You wake up to the insistent buzzing of your phone in your bag from the other end of the room, groaning as you lift your head and immediately panicking as everything that happened last night comes rushing back to you all at once – the memories assisted by the fact that Gojo is still wrapped around you like a limpet.

You--

You let them--

No . . . They made you let them? Everything feels so fuzzy and strange, you can’t quite get everything that happened straight in your head.

Geto isn’t in the bed. Your eyes are bleary as you see him stood in front of the window, half-dressed in sweatpants that hang low on his slim hips. You hate yourself for noticing the toned muscle in his forearms and stomach – for a little part of your mind whispering ‘at least your first time was with someone so hot--’

He’s got a phone pressed to his ear with his shoulder as he cards his fingers through his hair.

“No, I’m sorry, I meant to call you last night,” he’s saying, in that smooth, placating, wheedling voice that you think anyone would believe. “We have them with us. We went looking the minute you sent that text.”

What text? Your eyebrows scrunch again. You really need to get to your phone. You don’t want to think about Shoko worrying about you.

“They got drunk,” Geto is saying, on the line. “We found them there, so we brought them back to our place because we didn’t think it would be a good idea to leave them wandering around that part of town on their own, and ours is much closer.”

That’s . . . that’s not what happened, is it? Gojo and Geto had asked you to come out with them, reassuring you they’d take care of you, that Shoko wouldn’t mind because they were with you--

“We’ll let them sleep off the hangover,” Geto says, listening to the buzz on the other end of the phone. He inspects his nails as he talks, like he’s very bored of whatever your big sister is saying to him. “Yes, we’ll drop them off later. Goodbye, Shoko.”

He ends the call and sighs, turning to you – a smile spreading across his face as he sees you try to disentangle yourself from Gojo’s arms.

“He can be a little clingy,” Geto notes.

“M-my phone,” you say, your voice sounding very dry. “And I--”

“We’ll take you to get some Plan B,” Geto says, sighing. “We didn’t do anything you didn’t want, darling.”

That sounds wrong, too. You distinctly remembering sighing, whimpering that you shouldn’t be doing this – nodding, in the end, because you didn’t want Shoko to be mad at you for driving them away. Does that count as wanting them to do that with you?

Geto picks up your phone from inside the abandoned bag. His thumb flicks quickly over the screen – you don’t see him deleting the texts.

(Big Sis) 10:05PM: just got home?? where r u (Big Sis) 10:30PM: hey???????? (Big Sis) 11:11PM: this isnt funny (Big Sis) 11:11PM: this isnt like u (Big Sis) 11:20PM: pls just call me when u get these ok?? (Big Sis) 11:30PM: im gonna ask someone 2 look for u (Big Sis) 11:35PM: pls come home soon im worried about u (Big Sis) 11:40PM: (You Missed A Call) (Big Sis): 11:45PM: (You Missed A Call) (You Missed A Call) (You Missed A Call) (You Missed A Call)--

He deletes all of the ones from last night, leaving a few messages about missed calls just so you’re not suspicious about why your phone was going off so much, before he hands it to you just as a final text comes in. 

(Big Sis): 8:35AM: u are in so much trouble. u are so lucky that satoru n suguru found u, if u make any more shit for them i will be so mad

You swallow. Geto reads the text casually over your shoulder and bites the inside of his cheek to stop the grin from taking over his face – Shoko really has no idea what she’s doing, does she? She doesn’t know that her text is just going to remind you that you’re more trouble than you’re worth and that it’s far, far more important to not be a bother to her best friends than to keep a handle on your own virtue.

Geto reaches out, tenderly cupping your face, pulling your chin towards him. You blink your eyes at him, blown wide like the eyes of a doe, a soft noise of surprise and fear falling from your lips. He notices how inviting your lips look, and can’t resist dragging his thumb over the pillow of the lower one.

“You don’t want to be any trouble, do you?” He murmurs. “You just want to make sure everyone is happy, hmm? That’s a very noble position to take.”

Gojo stirs. Hands slide along your bare hips, a soft hum coming from behind you, a pair of lips gently brushing your shoulder blades as those same hands slide over the pudge of your stomach to take hold of your breasts, thumb and forefingers pinching your nipple and making you gasp.

“Heh,” Gojo murmurs. “You’re still so sensitive, huh? Y’know, assholes will take advantage of someone who doesn’t know what they’re doin’--”

“He’s right.” Geto leans in, brushing cool lips against yours. He tastes like fresh toothpaste – your own mouth tastes like ash as the weight of what you let them do to you comes crashing in on all sides. “Good job you have us then, hmm? To teach you the ways of the world?”

Gojo’s fingers don’t stop teasing your nipples, sending shivers of electric sparks down to the space between your thighs – making your breathing quicken, your thighs press together against your will in search of friction.

“You know we’re just being good friends, doin’ this for you, yeah?” Gojo nips at your earlobe. “You’re so cute, angel. Someone could take advantage of a naive lil’ thing like you any time--”

The hand not cupping your chin delves between your thighs, Geto’s fingers practised and elegant as he slides one inside of your already wet cunt. You make a gurgling noise, your eyes filling with tears even as your thighs part wider for him.

“Hush,” Geto murmurs against your mouth. “We’ll make you feel so good, again. And then you can help us. After all . . . What was it Shoko said?” His fingers crook inside of you, rubbing against that sweet spot in your walls that has you seeing stars. “Ah. That’s right. Don’t make any more shit for us.” He chuckles under his breath. “You’re lucky, right?”

With Gojo’s hard cock digging into your back and Suguru’s insistent fingers stroking pleasurable blooms of heat forth between your thighs, you still don’t feel it.

[justathickblackgirl]

Tw : Noncon/Dubcon, Predator x Prey kink, fear kink, Manhandle (?) & Outdoor sex. lmk if i miss anything. Chubby Reader Fics With No Skintone Of Reader Mentioned.

Mdni!

Currently thinking abt men who have a predator x prey kink. Men who love to see your trembling expression when he act like some merciless predator. men who loves to play hide and seek with you. despite his own self being a grown man, he cant help but get even more turned on when he sees your scared expression, while his hand pinch your chubby cheeks, only to make you more trembling in fear.

"look at you.. all scared and stuff... you're only making me more excited y'know?"

he's a man who is soo thrilled when he was chasing you. catching you around like a crazy dude, its only a matter of time before his hand get onto your clothes and easily ripped them off, and later on, you'll be getting pinned down beneath him while your pussy service his cock, laughing as a respond from him to your cries, slapping your fat belly and grabbing them with a very harsh grip. and.. ngl you both are going to look like some wild animals fucking each other in the woods, but dont worry though. he's a mass fucking possesive dude. theres no fucking way he'll let some random stranger look at your body. your body is all his and his only for see and touch. and if you forget it? he'll gladly reminds you.

The Men That i'm talking about Are;

GETO SUGURU, OBITO, Itoshi Brothers, MIYA ATSUMU, KUROO TETSURO, Tsukishima Kei, HOSHIGAKI KISAME, ALEC, Sakamaki Brothers, MUKAMI BROTHERS, Lev Haiba, TENDOU, MADARA, KIBA, ITTO, Childe, Scaramouche, POSEIDON, SEBASTIAN, Malleus, HADES, SHIVA, OVERHAUL, SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY, Horangi, Alejandro, HIDAN, Deidara, Sasori, KAKUZU, OROCHIMARU, UCHIHA SASUKE, SUKUNA RYOMEN & Bachira.

DID I FORGET ANYONE? INSERT UR FAV!

[justathickblackgirl]

pretty when you cry - chapter ten

series masterlist / chapter eleven

*originally posted to @bellareadsandrecs on 05/13/22*

pairing: dark!biker!bucky x curvy!reader (dark!soulmate au)

warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. 18+ ONLY. dubcon smut. noncon/dubcon relationship. spit kink. slight degradation. unprotected sex. nipple play. swearing. choking. mentions of past noncon intercourse . kidnapping? uh the crying kink - i literally can’t remember what it’s called lmao 💀 if i’m missing anything please let me know!

words: 4.4k

notes: like i said in a post earlier - this is definitely not the last chapter lol. i added something that turned into a bigger something and so there’s gonna be way more to come. majority of what i wrote for chapter ten originally is now pretty much all in the next chapter lmao. i’m really dragging this thing out, aren’t i? anyway if you were looking forward to reader’s punishment… you’ll have to bear with me until next week. but i think it’s worth it 😌 hope you enjoy this chapter which is literally just smut 💀 mean!bucky makes his triumphant return in chapter eleven so keep an eye out for that. feedback and comments are more than welcome and always appreciated! thank you for reading and reblogging. 💗

This is a DARK series!!! Please proceed with abundant caution.

You didn’t pay much attention to anything aside from finding an empty pump. That was easy enough to do on a Sunday night. There were only two other cars getting gas and a couple of cars parked in front of the store front. You parked by the nearest station you could and hopped out with your debit card in hand. You inserted the chip into the card reader so you could pay and expected to be prompted to begin your pumping.

But that didn’t happen.

The screen read that there was an error. Annoyed and huffy, you tried again. And then once more before another message came on the screen saying you’d have to pay inside. The last thing you wanted to do was waste time dealing with a cashier and having to go in, but you didn’t have any other cards you could try. Begrudgingly, you rolled your eyes and rolled your neck, trying to relieve some tension before you’d be face to face with another person. You were sure you looked erratic so you tried to pull yourself together before leaving your car and rushing to get inside so you could pay. You just needed to fill up your tank and get the hell out of there.

The ringing of the bell on the entrance door alerted you to a nervous looking cashier. He was breathing like he was trying to keep himself calm as beads of sweat rolled down his forehead. When he saw you, he gave you a nervous smile that you cautiously returned. Something was off. Something was wrong. The bell rang again but you didn’t pay it any mind. You wanted to just say screw it and find another gas station downtown, but before you could turn around and head back to your car, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You jumped at the unexpected touch and paled at the unexpected face that met yours as you looked behind you.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Natasha said in her smokey voice with a smile on her face. She either didn’t seem to notice your rising anxiety or just decided to ignore it as she moved her hand off of you before continuing. “Now what’s Bucky’s girl doing all alone on this side of town this late at night?”

“It’s not that late,” you said defensively. “And I’m not his girl,” you quickly added, rushing to remind her and yourself of that. She just smiled and laughed at you - you couldn’t tell if it was condescending or if she really thought you were joking - but it didn’t matter. And if you hadn’t been annoyed already, you were well and truly pissed off now. To which, Nat quickly caught on.

“Down, kitty. What’s got you all riled up?” she said, sounding concerned, but again you really couldn’t tell if she was just being condescending or not.

“I just need to put gas, okay? Is that not allowed? Do I need a chaperone to go out alone now? As if I haven’t been followed around nearly everyday for almost a month,” you ranted, ignoring the gaze of the other customers in the small store, all of whom quickly left after Natasha looked at them with a stare that chilled even you.

After the last person left, Nat finally returned her gaze to you.

“Got somewhere to be?” she asked as she took in your nervous, agitated demeanor.

“Home,” you lied swiftly. There was no way she knew what your plans were or even if Bucky knew where you were at the moment.. “Bucky’s waiting for me, so..” you added, lying further as you glanced around outside, desperately wanting to escape to your car.

“Oh, I’m sure he is. But what’s the rush?” she said as your eyes then landed on Sam outside the window of the convenience store, hanging up his phone before he started making his way inside. In an instant, everything clicked. You didn’t know if you should be scared or angry. Reality was both, but you decided to go with anger.

“What is the rush?” you bit out. “You tell me. Why do we need to talk right now? I’m sure we both have places to be.”

“I think you know exactly where you’re supposed to be. And we both know it isn’t at a gas station with your car packed like you’re about to skip town.” she said seriously.

“And I think, it’s none of your business. Scoping out my car the second I walked away?” you said harshly as Sam neared the both of you.

“Honey, I clocked you the second you pulled in,” she responded as Sam came to stand next to her. It felt like they were blocking you in. They probably were.

“Y/N, it’s good to see you,” Sam began before you cut him off.

“Save it.” you interrupted. “You were just talking to him outside, right?” you asked him straight up. Silence was your answer. “He’s on his way, then?” you continued.

He still didn’t really respond, just looked at you with sympathy. It made you even more upset.

And then you heard the roar of Bucky’s bike. And you knew you were fucked.

“I really thought you were different,” you said sadly to Sam before trying to walk past him and Nat to get back to your car. You could see Bucky from where you stood and to say he looked pissed was an understatement. He looked nearly unhinged. He had parked his bike behind your car and when he threw open the back door, you only then realized you had left your car unlocked and your keys in the ignition. As you watched him, you were sure he was rifling through your bags.

Before you could pass them, Sam stopped you gently. It didn’t take much, you could feel the fight draining out of you with each second that passed.

“I’m sorry. But he would have lost it completely if you just up and disappeared. I promise you, it would have just made things worse. No one would’ve been safe. I’m just trying to help protect you and the people you care about. And… he loves you, you know that. You two are meant to be together, aren’t you? You’re soulmates?”

You ignored his last question. Tired of hearing “but we’re soulmates” as an excuse for the way Bucky was acting.

“You think this is protecting me?” you asked, truly confused. But they didn’t know. How would they have?

“He’d never hurt you,” Natasha said confidently. You couldn’t help but laugh wryly at that. With a shake of your head, you turned back around to head outside to your car.

You were surprised to see that Bucky was pumping gas into your car but when he saw you, he slammed the pump back into its station and closed the cap to your tank as he stared at you predatorily. Worry and confusion running through you. You couldn’t tell for the life of you what was going to happen next. You couldn’t figure out what he was going to do.

He was fuming as he watched you approach slowly and cautiously.

“Where the fuck were you going?” he asked, deceptively quiet, when he knew you were near enough to hear him.

“Nowhere,” you began without thinking. You felt like how you did as a kid getting caught in a lie. Right before you knew you were about to be in trouble. For some reason, you just tried to keep lying instead of admitting the truth and facing your punishment, desperately trying to avoid it. “I wasn’t-”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, y/n! Do you think I’m stupid? Like I didn’t see these bags packed full of your shit?” You flinched at him suddenly yelling at you even though there was a good distance between you still. The only other time he had yelled, truly, yelled at you like that was the night he had broken into your house the first time.

“I just needed to get away. I need to be away from you. I mean, you just threatened my family, Bucky. Did you really expect me to just be fine with that? I - I can’t have these threats hanging over my head. I don’t want to be forced to be with you. You’re trying to blackmail me into a relationship and this is just - this is all so fucked,” you said, broken hearted.

“Get in the car,” he ordered harshly.

“No,” you refused, trying to hide the nerves in your voice.

“Get your ass in the car before I make you get in,” he growled.

You looked behind you as you felt eyes on you while yours had started to sting. You saw Sam and Nat staring from across the lot, watching raptly at the embarrassingly dramatic scene unfolding before them. You realized then that they were really just watching you. As if you’d take off running at any given moment. You accepted then that you didn’t have a viable way out of there. So, reluctantly, you climbed into the passenger seat of your own car as Bucky got into the driver’s seat in the blink of an eye.

Bucky peeled out of the gas station the second you closed your door. It was tense and quiet and you could literally feel the rage radiating off of him. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel and his jaw was clenched so hard you were momentarily worried about his teeth. You wanted to speak, to say something. To protest at the very least. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. You didn’t think you could push him any further before something bad happened. But a sinking feeling in your gut was telling you that something bad was already happening.

He drove in silence for what felt like forever, but in reality was only about 15 minutes, before he passed the sign indicating that you were now out of the town limits. You turned to Bucky the second that information registered.

“Where are you taking me?”

He didn’t look back to you, didn’t respond at all, just accelerated his already over-the-limit speed.

It was only a couple minutes later that your question was answered as he pulled up to a secluded house just outside of town. It was nice. Really nice. It was a two story modern farmhouse. It looked new and… costly. You were still confused though. You didn’t know where you were or why he had taken you there. Was this his house? You didn’t think much more on that, though as Bucky parked and shut off your car - exiting it just as swiftly.

He rounded the hood and threw your door open before he dragged you out of the car, not even giving you the chance to react. His grip was strong and it hurt as he walked you up to the front door before he opened it almost effortlessly and shoved you inside.

Not having the wherewithal to even try and stop your motion before you tripped over yourself and fell to your hands and knees. When you turned back around in shock, you realized that Bucky wasn’t there. He was back at your car, grabbing all of your bags from your back seat. You scrambled up to your feet and as you went outside to protest, he turned back on you before you even stepped foot out of the door.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you seethed as you tried to hold your ground at the threshold of the door. He walked straight up to you, his glare alone enough to send you walking cautiously backward into the house. He threw your bags down and slammed the door shut behind him, his dark eyes never leaving yours as he stalked toward you. For the life of you, you couldn’t look away. Your throat went dry as you watched him approach closer and closer and the most unexpected thrill went through you, but you refused to pay it any mind as you needed to figure out your next move in this unknown space. Before you could, though, Bucky finally responded to you.

“Taking what’s mine,” he said roughly as he grabbed you by the waist just the same. He moved so swiftly and had you pressed up tightly against him in the blink of an eye before he moved his metal hand to your throat, applying constricting pressure as he stared down into your eyes. You could only imagine what you looked like, mouth agape as you stared up at him, hands pulling at his wrist trying to get him to drop his grip on your neck.

He loosened his grip after a moment of you struggling against him before his hand moved up to your jaw, holding your face up to keep your gaze.

“You are mine,” he stated hungrily before leaning down and crashing his lips to yours, his metal hand never leaving your face, just pulling you closer. You were astonished by how desperate it felt. As he grabbed at you and kissed you deeper than ever, you realized that he was, in fact, acting in desperation. He pulled away only to breathe before he picked you up behind your thighs and lifted you as you reflexively wrapped your thick legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He held you effortlessly as he walked you up a staircase leading to the second floor. Your mind was in a haze as he entered what you assumed was the master bedroom. He dropped you onto the bed and wasted no time in removing his clothes before he did the same to you.

You didn’t fight him. In fact, you helped him as he removed each article of clothing you were wearing. Your armor quickly falling as his touch set you on fire. Nothing made sense but that didn’t matter. None of it mattered. All that mattered was him. It was disorienting how quickly things turned in.. less than an hour.

After you were laid back on the bed completely naked, he climbed on top of you, lavishing kisses from your lips, along your neck, to your breasts, down your stomach and finally kissing down to your pussy. You were already wet and his desperation was making you feel the same.

He licked and sucked hungrily, leaving you writhing beneath him. His hands found your hips, holding you down to stop you from involuntarily moving as you were looking for more stimulation from him. He swirled his tongue around your sensitive clit before sucking it into his mouth, eliciting a pleasure fueled scream from you as you grabbed onto the sheets. He sucked for a little longer, before releasing you, moving to lick one last long, deep stripe through your folds up to your bundle of nerves.

As he moved back up your body, you felt his hard length pressing against you as he leaned down to be face to face with you again. His flesh hand moved to grip your chin once again as his metal hand was beside your head, holding him up above you. You were breathing heavily as you stared into his deep blue eyes while he looked down at you with an undeniable, carnal, lust in his gaze.

“You really thought you could just leave me like that, sweetheart?” he asked, almost pained. You didn’t know what to say and the urge to apologize was one you had to fight as he continued staring down at you. He leaned closer and pressed a kiss to your lips before adding, “You can’t leave me. You’re never gonna leave, you understand me?” he questioned harshly as he gripped your jaw tighter in his hold.

You heard the unspoken threat and knew that you weren’t getting away from him again - but you really couldn’t find it in yourself to care at the moment as you nodded as best you could while he held your face firmly.

“Good girl,” he praised darkly as he let go of your face and moved to grab his pulsing cock in his flesh hand. He pumped himself twice and you watched as precum leaked from his tip. He moved to angle himself at your entrance before he ran the tip of his cock through your wet folds teasingly. You whined under him and he wasted no time in moving to enter you harshly. You cried at the intrusion, though you were wet and wanting, his size was still a lot for you to take. You gripped his arms that were holding onto your waist as your legs encircled him once more. He didn’t slow down even as you cried. He only held you tighter, and you were sure his grip would leave you bruised like it had before.

“Please,” you cried out as he continued thrusting deeper and deeper into your wet heat. “Please, Bucky, slow down, I can’t.. I can’t take it. S’too much,” you pleaded.

“Oh sweetheart, you can take it. I know you can,” he said patronizingly. “Just keep crying, princess. Love it when you cry for me,” he grunted through his teeth as he pounded into you even harder, leaning closer to your face, kissing away your tears as they fell. You felt like you were being split in two as you cried out his name once more.

“Bucky, it hurts!” you sobbed through the pain and pleasure coursing through you.

“It hurts?” he asked softly in your ear, voice laced with fake care, “How much?” he growled as he rutted into you again, pulling back to look at you, causing you to gasp out, your breath catching in your throat at the feeling his tone sent through you and at the even harder thrust he sent into you as he moved his hands to take your own in his. He moved them up and pinned them to the bed as he intertwined your fingers. His thrusts didn’t slow, he just kept moving against you, his thick cock dragging against your tight walls, the head of him hitting your g-spot perfectly with each thrust, only making you cry out more as you moaned pathetically, the sound turning into a sob. Your heels were digging into his back as you arched yours, inadvertently pulling him closer.

As he leaned back down to you, his face dropped to your neck as your chest touched his. His hands left yours and he moved them to hold onto your waist and around your back as you were still arching against him, holding you close to him as your hands found his biceps before snaking around to wrap your arms around his back.

You felt him biting harshly at the tender skin of your throat before he soothed the sting with his tongue. “You hurt me,” he nearly whispered against your skin. “I think you deserve a little pain tonight, too, princess. S’only fair,” he continued before he moved his head down to your breasts.

You didn’t realize how close you were to coming until Bucky took one of your nipples into his warm, wet mouth and suckled on it, swirling his tongue around your pert bud as his hand found your other breast and played with it, tugging and pulling at your sensitive nipple, squeezing the mound of flesh in his large hand, groaning around your tit as he felt you squeeze his cock even tighter as you inched closer to your impending orgasm.

He bit your nipple and you yelped at the pain, soon replaced by the unrelenting pleasure he was unleashing on your body. His warm tongue swirling around the bud yet again to soothe the sting as he continued pounding into you relentlessly, your nails digging into his back. Every thrust - more forceful than the last, every bite more deep, but every kiss, more sweet. It was the most pleasurable torture to be at his whim. It was painful, but still, you wanted more.

With his arms still around you and you clinging to him, he pulled you up, keeping you against his chest as he sat up with his cock still inside of you. The change of position had you mewling helplessly yet again as he had you sat on his thighs, thrusting up into you with so much force you could do nothing but hold onto him desperately. One of his hands found your hip as he pulled you down harshly against his every thrust, forcing you to meet him with each one as he bounced you up and down on his thick cock.

You relied on him to keep you upright against him, nearly completely leaning against his strong chest as your arms stayed wrapped tightly around him - your face nuzzling into his neck. He slithered his large hand from your hip to in between your sweat covered bodies, his dexterous fingers easily finding your clit as he began to rub it in tight circles as you clenched around him and clung to him tighter, mouth falling open in a silent cry as you came suddenly and violently, crying at the indescribable bliss that overtook you.

Bucky didn’t stop fucking you as he growled and shoved you back down on the mattress, pounding into you without abandon. His right hand was now on your waist and his left found your throat once again and he squeezed as he stared down at you animalistically. You saw the anger, hurt, and disappointment in his eyes, but the undeniable look of lust and longing was there too.

As he stared down at you, eyes boring into your own glossy ones, it looked like he was going to say something more, but didn’t. Just grit his teeth as his hand became more constricting around your throat, and his hips began to stutter in their powerful movements. You don’t know why - it was instinctive as your left hand reached out to his hip, craving him - wanting him closer - wanting to touch him, while your right hand covered his metal one still on you as he used your overworked and sensitive hole to chase his own release. A part of you was keenly aware just how easily it would be for him to crush your throat if he wanted to, and how controlled his strength was as he got closer. That turned you on, and you wanted more.

Your hand tightened around his, the constriction somehow bringing you closer to another orgasm, your silky walls tightening around him, making him groan deeply as he nearly lost control. You whimpered beneath him as he stopped moving inside you. His grip slipped up to your jaw and he forced your mouth open with the pressure.

“Tongue out,” he ordered harshly and you obeyed without thinking - absolutely no hesitation. He grinned wickedly before he lightly patted your cheek in approval. He pursed his lips and then spat onto your tongue - you could feel it running down your tongue into your throat before you swallowed it.

You were momentarily brought back to that first night - the memory of his saliva on your tongue before he left you like a used, broken doll alone in your bed. But the renewed thrusting of his cock inside your tight walls quickly pulled you back to the present.

“I get my cock in you and you just become so compliant, don’t you, princess,” he taunted before kissing you hotly. “This is just what you needed, isn’t it? Just needed me to fuck you stupid so you don’t have to think, don’t have to worry about anything,” he continued, you could feel his breath against your cheek as he spoke and you laid there, writhing, whimpering and whining beneath him.

You did feel stupid. Stupid and embarrased at how accurate he was. You really were being compliant, not even a little bit of fight was coming from you. But right now, with his cock thrusting so deeply into you, making you feel so unbelievably good - with his warmth surrounding you and his weight on top of you - you didn’t care.

You were slightly surprised that his taunting was sending sparks of pleasure straight to your core, while you heated up even more at his words.

“You gonna come again, pretty girl? I can fuckin feel you squeezing me. So goddamn tight,” he was breathing heavily and grunting above you while you stared up at him with wide eyes, nearly gasping for each breath you took in between your now weak moans.

His hands found your hips as his stuttered once again, but he didn’t stop this time. Only moved more brutally against you. The deep, hard strokes of his throbbing cock along your walls was addictive - you almost didn’t want him to stop despite the ache he was leaving you with.

He came as deeply as he could inside of you and when you first felt him shoot his hot come inside your walls, you came yet again around him. He hissed as your walls squeezed his member, wanting to keep him inside. Never wanting it to end. Because you knew what was going to happen once it ended. Once the euphoric high passed, you would be faced with that post-coital clarity. So you begged silently to let the bliss last forever.

Bucky’s arms wrapped around you once again and he flipped you both so that he was now on his back and you were resting on him. His hands rubbed up and down your curves while you both slowly tried to steady your breathing, his cock still snuggly inside of you.

You felt your eyes getting heavy and were grateful to have sleep take you so you didn’t have to come back to reality yet. As you felt yourself slip under, you vaguely heard Bucky’s voice.

“We’ll get the rest of your stuff tomorrow, sweetheart. You’re staying with me. It’ll be easier this way,” he spoke softly into your hair. “I didn’t want to force you, you know. I was trying to give you a choice. But you just kept choosing wrong,” he continued as he shook his head slightly. “You don’t have to worry about anything anymore, though. I got you. I got us,” he mumbled as your eyes shut fully. You didn’t respond, didn’t fully hear or understand him, honestly. Right now, you just needed to sleep. Your head was cloudy and all you registered before sleep took you was the feeling of Bucky’s hands on you, moving to pull his comforter up over the both of you, and his lips brushing your skin.