#c!sam x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sacredthefran · 8 months

Text

Cream & Sugar Pt 7 (2/2)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka + Female Reader

Warnings: Sugar Daddy, Nothing to crazy this chapter :) just some fluff 18+ MINORS DNI

Authors Notes: Hi bb’s! It’s finally here! Also if any of you guys are going to DC, MSG and Philly let me know! I want to meet everyone and give them some bracelets I made. As always, let me know what you guys think :) don't worry, part 8 is coming sooner than you know.......

Word Count: 3.4k

“That’s right. I planned us a little date.”

“Haha, so funny. Where are we really going?”

“I told you. I planned a date. Now be quiet and look out the window, entertain yourself.”

You decided to do just that - entertain yourself. You found yourself looking out of the window, aimlessly counting all the trees that you passed, counting all the cars that you two had passed, hell, you were even keeping a tally in your head of each color they were.

“We’re here!” Jake spoke in a cheerful voice while tapping your thigh to get your attention.

“Uh….Jake?” You called out timidly to him, watching as he got out of the car doing a little stretch.

“Yes?”

“You’re fucking with me right?”

“What makes you think that?” Jake peered over his black lens sunglasses, raising an eyebrow at you.

“There’s nothing around us,” you paused to open up your hands - motioning to the empty field that surrounds the black SUV. “Oh wait…I think I can hear a cow mooing in the distance.”

“Ha ha. Smartass. Get out of the car.” You could see a little grin making its way onto Jake’s face as he tried not to laugh at your joke.

“Promise you’re not going to murder me?”

“I promise…well, I want you to enjoy this picnic before I kill you. It’s the least I could do.”

Jake winked at you as he closed the car door, walking over to the trunk of the car, opening it and pulling out a brown whittaker basket.

“You going to join me? Or are you just going to keep staring at me that whole time?”

Closing your mouth and taking a deep breath, you opened up the car door, finding yourself once again, doing whatever Jake wants you too. As you got out of the car you couldn’t help but to admire him in the sunset. The way his hair was laying messily on his shoulders, he couldn’t stop running his fingers through his locks - a nervous habit that he had, the way how the orange glow was radiating around him, making him look more like a God.

Fuck, how is that even possible?

It was almost as if he could feel your eyes on him. He turned his head slightly to you, giving you one of the softest smiles you’ve ever seen grace his features. You knew that you were slowly falling for him, but this? This right here could be your downfall.

“Can you help me with the blanket?” Jake’s voice cracked as he turned his head to face forward again.

No, he can’t be nervous, could he?

Instead of responding, you made your way over to stand directly in front of him, just a couple of inches separating the two of you. Your eyes locked as you knelt down to grab part of the black blanket that was almost touching the ground, noticing how Jake’s breath caught in the back of his throat as you slowly made your way back up - making sure that your face would purposely be by the crotch of his jeans.

“Stop that.”

“Me? I’m not doing anything?” You exclaimed as you brushed your knuckles against his, before stepping away from him completely, letting the length of the blanket separate the two of you.

“You know what you’re doing. Stop trying to wake him up.”

“Him? Don’t tell me you’re the type of guy who names his dick.”

“So what if I am?”

“What’s it called? Anaconda? Your sword? Mini Me?”

“Shut up. Lay the blanket down.” Jake mumbled - avoiding your eye contact as he lowered the fabric to the ground and sunk down to his knees.

“Shut up. Lay the blanket down.” You parroted back, watching in amusement as his cheeks flushed a light pink.

“Quit that.”

Rolling your eyes, you followed his actions of sitting on the blanket, putting a couple of inches in between you two. Everytime Jake would lift something out of the basket, you would grab it out of his hand , trying to ignore the little fire that would ignite in your stomach everytime your fingers would brush. Once everything was laid out, you watched as Jake let out a soft sigh and moved himself to the whole other side of the blanket - turning himself so he was staring directly at you.

“What?” Jake asked innocently as he tilted his head.

“The sunset’s that direction.” You let out a soft giggle, raising your hand and pointing directly behind him.

“I know.”

“So? You’re not going to watch it?”

“I’d rather look at you if that’s alright.” Jake shrugged, opening a bottle of water, giving you a tiny little smirk as he brought the bottle to his lips.

You could feel a tiny blush rising across your cheeks and your chest - you absolutely hated it. You already were trying to get accustomed to the fact that you were pretending to be a man’s girlfriend for money - but the last thing you wanted to do was start to develop feelings past platonic with him. It’ll complicate things. You can’t even count how many times you have had to tell yourself that within the past month. Constantly having an internal battle between right and wrong.

“Judging by how red you’re getting, I would say it’s more than alright.”

“Shut up.”

“Shut up.” You shot him a glare in hopes to get him to stop talking.

“Doesn’t feel so good when someone mocks you, does it?” Jake spoke with a little giggle, as he reached forward to grab a grape.

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you.”

“Well you don’t make me laugh, so I gotta make myself do it.”

Your mouth opened in a gasp as you registered what he said, finding yourself blushing even more - a steady heat starting to ignite all over your body.

“Close your mouth. I’m not in the mood to fuck your pretty little mouth right now, I’m trying to be romantic.”

“You? Romantic? Don’t make me laugh.” You rolled your eyes at the long haired man in front of you - you had to at least play hard to get, you didn’t want him to know that you have been swooning on the inside since he chose to face you instead of the orange painted sky.

“Fine, this isn’t a date. It’s just a sugar daddy getting to spend alone time with his sugar baby.”

“Good.”

Damnit. You thought to yourself as Jake broke out into a toothy grin, removing his sunglasses and hanging them off the collar of his shirt.

“Here.” You were snapped out of your little daydream to find Jake holding out a container of Granny Smith Apples with a small round black container sitting on top of it.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, I thought these were your favorite apples.” Jake’s voice almost disappeared as he finished the sentence.

“No. They are my favorite. I just meant what’s in the black container.” You stopped him from pulling back the container by putting a hand on his wrist - holding him delicately in place.

“It’s peanut butter and honey, you said that was your favorite to dip it in, right?”

He remembered, you could feel your heart swelling at the tiny action.

“Yeah, it’s my favorite.”

It grew silent between the two of you as you sat there and picked at all the snacks Jake had packed. Every so often, you two would make eye contact, staring softly at each other until the other would break away and look down at the ground.

“20 Questions?”

“Huh?” Jake lifted his eyes eight from the slices of mozzarella cheese to meet your line of vision, blushing lightly when he noticed you were already looking at him.

“20 questions? You know, the game where you ask the other person questions to get to know them more?”

“I know what it is. I just wasn’t sure if I heard you correctly. Ask away.” Jake rolled his eyes at you in a playful manner.

“You go first. I suggested the game.”

“Okay……are you a virgin?”

“Jacob…” You scolded him in a teasing tone, knowing that of course, he would poke fun at your suggestion.

“Alright, alright. Let me think for a second..” The long haired man trailed off, looking out towards the sunset in a trance, him pushing his tongue into the side of his cheek.

“Favorite color?”

“That’s the question? That’s all you came up with?” You looked over at him, raising your eyebrows, feeling a little shocked that was the only thing he could come up with to ask you.

“Yes, that is my question. I think it’s important that we get to know the little things about each other, before we know each other’s deepest darkest secrets.” Jake leaned forward, squinting his eyes at you speaking as if he was stating facts.

“Why do you think that’s important?”

“Excuse me? It was my turn to ask the question, not yours. Don’t be rude.” Jake sucked his teeth at you.

“Maroon. Now answer my question.”

“You don’t care to know mine?” Jake let out a short breath, placing a hand over his heart like he was wounded by your words.

“Jake, I would love, if you would do the honor of letting me know your favorite color.”

“You sure know how to capture my heart, don’t you? Emerald green.”

“Green?”

“That’s what I just said, isn’t it?”

“Is that why you were so adamant on me wearing a green dress the night we met?”

“No…well kind of. Deandra sent me a photo of you, and I knew since the moment I saw you that you would look good in green. Nothing wrong with wanting to see a beautiful lady in my favorite color.”

You couldn’t find the words to say, feeling dumb founded at this exact moment. Your insides were practically turning as you processed everything Jake was saying, maybe he was trying to be serious about the romance.

“Don’t get all shy on me now.” Jake smirked, looking over at you, his eyes getting bigger in size as he took in how nervous you looked all of a sudden. “Are you going to ask me a question or are you going to keep looking at the grass? I promise it’s not going anywhere.”

“Favorite food?”

“Italian. You?”

“Probably Spanish, there’s nothing better than going to XOCO, sitting on the patio outside, sipping a margarita, and watching the sunrise.” You hummed out to him, reminiscing on all the afternoons you spent at the table in the back of the patio watching the sky turn different colors until nightfall, something about it was so peaceful to you.

“I’ll take you to Mexico one day, you’ll love it.” Jake spoke absentmindedly.

“You’d want to take me on a trip?” You choked out, reaching over to grab the bottle of white wine, he had just removed from the basket. You audibly gulped as you looked at the bottle weighing heavily in your hands - Chateau La Mission Haut Brion - Blanc.

White wine, but the thing is, this just wasn’t an ordinary bottle of white wine - this was the wine that your parents had gifted you when you completed law school. They told you to make sure to save it for a special occasion, and you did just that. The bottle sat firmly on top of the black cabinet in your kitchen. You told Jake this story during a late night conversation, complaining to him about how you were tempted so badly to open it and pour yourself a glass, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so.

“What’s this?”

“Just a random bottle I had lying around my house.”

“Jake.”

“I may have sent Josh out to get it this morning when you were sleeping.”

“How did..” You trailed off, trying to find the correct wording for the sentence, you didn’t want to assume that he remembered this minor detail.

“How many times do I have to tell you that I pay attention to everything that you tell me.” Jake rolled his eyes playfully. “Besides, I’m not a huge fan of white wine, but this one’s good and I figured this is kind of a special occasion.

You weren’t sure how many questions were asked between the two of you - but you were positive that it was more than twenty. The air around the two of you felt different. You tried finding the words to describe it, but you couldn’t. You weren’t sure if it was because the questions turned from getting to know the small things about each other to getting to know big details about each other’s lives. He had asked you about your childhood, wanting to know every little detail about your family and you did the same. If you were lying to yourself you would say that Jake wasn’t letting his guard down around you - but he was.

It scared you more than you wanted it to. Somehow throughout the conversations, you two had all but finished the bottle, giggling at each other from the top of your glasses, holding eye contact for a couple of seconds before one of you would have to look away from the intensity of it. You weren’t sure how late it was, noticing how the sky had lost the orange hue and turned black, with only the light from the moon shining down upon you.

You hated yourself for it but you had one question that kept popping up in your mind relentlessly.

“So can I ask you something?” You looked up at him timidly.

“I thought that’s what we were doing all along.”

“Shut up.” You found yourself chuckling as Jake busted out into a contagious fit of giggles. His cheeks turning rosy from the mixture of alcohol and the laughter.

“Ask away.”

“Did you…did you k-”

“Did I kill Koszak?” Jake turned dead serious as he took the words out of your mouth. You were positive that he could hear you gulping - trying to swallow down your nerves.

“You really think I’m capable of doing that?” Jake shook his head, looking up at the moon, staring at it lost in thought.

“Well, I have been warned about y-”

“So you decide that those rumors are true? Unbelievable.” He scoffed “I know I have a temper and I don’t always know how to control it. Yes, I can be merciless to some people. But, to accuse me of murder? What the fuck? You really think that low of me?”

“Jake….I don’t think you are capable of doing it, but it just scared me. You were pissed off at the whole situation, you had Josh stalking my every move and then you come walking into the bedroom with blood covering you! What am I supposed to think? Please tell me!”

The tones of calm in the air quickly turned into anger as you both sat up on your knees, staring at one another. Neither backing down from each other. If looks could kill.

“That’s when you trust your fucking gut and trust that I’m not that type of person.”

A couple of minutes had passed between the two of you - both of you just continuously staring, trying to think through the thoughts that were bombarding your mind.

“Look, I don’t want to fight with you.” Jake spoke softly, reaching out and grabbing your hand, softly pulling you towards him. “You want the truth?”

You nodded sheepishly at him as you crawled your way over to him. The coldness of the night started to fade away as you were surrounded by the warmth that radiated off of him.

“Yes, I do work for some dangerous people and yes, I am on their defense team. That’s how I made all my money. Yes, I was extremely angry with you when you went against my word and got on that fucking airplane alone with Koszak. I was trying to protect you. I don’t think you understand how dangerous he was.”

He paused briefly to look down at you - taking a deep breath preparing himself for what he was about to say next.

“I don’t know what it is about you…but I feel the need to protect you. Just let me do that y/n. I know I can be controlling but it’s because I’m worried about what could possibly happen to you.”

Fuck. You felt as if he had punched you right in the stomach, making all the air leave your body.

“I was pissed, I was - no I wanted to kill him. But I could never do that. I called some of the people I worked for and cashed in on a couple of favors that they owe me and I did what I had to do to make sure he would never lay his hands on you again.” Jake puffed out his cheeks and slowly blew the air out, trying to calm himself. “Baby, you’ve got to believe me. I would never kill him.”

“But you organized his murder.”

“I don’t want to go into too many details, but the world is better off without him in it.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? I just admitted something major to you and you just go ‘okay’?” Jake brushed a piece of your hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ears as he searched your eyes back and forth, trying to read your mind.

“Okay, I believe you.” You breathed out, not finding it in yourself to break away from Jake’s eyes.

“Thank god.” Jake chuckled, moving his thumb in a soothing motion against your cheek, pulling your face up to meet his and placing a soft kiss against your lips.

You made a move to deepen it, but Jake wasn’t having it - pulling away slowly to rest his forehead against yours.

“I don’t want to fuck tonight. I just want us to enjoy each other and watch the fireworks.”

“Fireworks?” You question him as a loud boom sounded off behind you - streaks of red painting the sky.

“Perfect, just in time.” Jake then sat on the ground, parting his legs and beckoned for you to sit in between them.

You complied, smiling to yourself as you turned your back to him, feeling his arms circle around either side of your waist, pulling you tightly against his chest. You could feel him smiling too when he placed his chin into your shoulder, nudging his cheeks against yours as you watched the colorful display.

“See that one right there?” Jake lifted a finger pointing to the sky, looking at the Weeping Willow.

“Those are my favorite.” You spoke in a meep voice, snuggling yourself further into his soft chest , enjoying the clunking noise his necklaces would make.

“Really? They’re mine too.” He leaned down to whisper into your ear, his nose nuzzling into your hair. You could’ve sworn that he inhaled your scent at that moment.

“My grandparents had a cabin in the woods, it was behind the pond that I told you Josh and I used to fish at. My grandma told my grandfather that weeping willows were her favorite, when she was a little girl she used to dream about having them planted everywhere in her yard - grandpa made it his mission that summer to plant as many as he could around the pond. They would wake up and just look out at the trees as the sun would rise.”

You felt your heart swelling as he spoke. You turned your head to face him and you were met with surprise to see him staring at you already - studying your face in the glow of the fireworks.

“Looks like your grandma and I have something in common, it’s my dream to have a house surrounded by them too.”

“What about one in the front yard with a swing? I’ll push you on it whenever you want.”

“You would plant me a willow?”

“I would plant all the willows you want.”

Taglist : @heykoonsy @dannythedog @joshkiszkatoothgap @milkgemini @gretavanbear @sacredjake@chmpgnnlace @objectsinspvce @poofyloofy @saaoko @twistedmelodies @cal-a-bungaa @writingcold @sarakay-gvf @gretasmokerising @lunaindigoraven @gvfpal @brokenbellsgvf @josh-iamyour-mama @shesawomaninadream @gretavangroupie @kleogvf @jakekiszkasmommy @jakekiszkabf @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface

@whiterosekiszka @laneygvf

#cream & sugar #greta van fleet #jake kiszka #jake gvf #jake kiszka fluff #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka series #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fic #gvf fanfiction #gvf fic #jake kiszka x y/n #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka x you #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner #greta van fanfiction #c & s

232 notes · View notes

c-nstantine · 1 year

Text

Chaperones

Description: All Y/N Wilson wants is to go on a date with Peter Parker, her uncle diagrees

Warnings: None, fluff

Word Count: 0.8k

Y/N was one of the few people who could stand to change Sam's mind about something. Her current goal was to convince him to let her go on a date with Peter Parker, her crush. Peter was a complete sweetheart about the entire situation and even gave Y/N flowers which Sam threw in the garbage.

"You're not going on a date with that boy," Sam said with his arms crossed. He was doing his best to remain stern but his niece always knew how to tug at his heartstrings.

"Why not?" Y/N asked pouting a little. Bucky looked between the niece and uncle duo feeling slightly glad about not having any relatives. All he wanted was to get lunch, but somehow he ended up in their crosshairs.

"Because I don't like him," Sam mocked Y/N's tone as she glared at him.

Y/N was only in New York for the summer, and she was determined to go on a date while she was there. She could not keep her mind off of Peter since she bumped into him at the Avenger's Compound, but ever since then, Sam had been watching her every move.

"What if Bucky chaperoned?" Y/N asked, and Bucky looked up with wide eyes. He clearly had two options here. He could help the girl he had grown to see as a little sister, or he could stand with the man who had become his closest friend.

"Good luck getting Bucky to agree to that," Sam spoke with confidence. He hadn't managed to get Bucky to do anything for him in the entire time that he'd known Bucky.

"If you do it, I'll put in a good word with Sarah, "Y/N offered while looking at Bucky. She was sitting at the edge of her seat with wide eyes.

"Deal," Bucky said with no hesitation. For a moment, he almost felt bad about betraying Sam, but it was worth it in the end. Y/N kissed Bucky's cheek as she stepped away from their table to call Peter. Her curly puffs bounced with the pep in her step.

"Buck!" Sam exclaimed while hitting Bucky's vibranium arm. Bucky snorted as he watched Sam grab his hand in pain.

"Oh, I would've done it for free," Bucky took a sip of his coffee and watched Y/N talk on the phone with glee.

"To make her happy, or to see me annoyed?" Sam asked as he looked at Bucky. Bucky's lips curled upwards but he did not answer the question.

"Hi, Peter," Y/N said with a dopey smile. She wore a sweater and jeans. It took her forever to pick one outfit because she wanted Peter to like her.

"Hi, Y/N," Peter responded with a shy smile. He handed her a small bouquet of flowers that was primarily made up of daisies.

"I'm sorry about the super soldier following us around," Y/N apologized as the duo began to walk around Central Park. Bucky and Y/N agreed that he would linger about forty feet back to give them the illusion of privacy.

"Eh, it's fine. It kinda makes me feel important," Peter joked as he scratched the back of his neck.

"My uncle is a little overprotective," Y/N stated the understatement of the year. Sam just wanted Y/N to be safe and his definition of sage did not include Peter Parker.

"I get why he's worried. You're very beautiful and this is your first time in the city," Peter was one of the few people that actually knew all of the dangers that lurk in New York. He would hate to see something happen

"You think I'm beautiful?" Y/N tucked a single faux loc behind her ear and smiled.

"I think you're stunning. Not just in a physical way, you're really smart. Not that you can't be smart and pretty because you ar-" Peter rambled on and Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at his antics.

"I think you're pretty too," Y/N admitted as she stared at the boy next to her. His face turned bright red and his eyes widened.

"Oh, I'm gonna pass out now," The blush from the compliment crept down his neck and Peter was dying on the inside. He just got complimented by the girl of his dreams.

"Please don't," Y/N giggled as she watched Peter take deep breaths. Y/N was sure that the boy needed a church fan to keep him from passing out in the middle of Central Park.

"Okay," Peter was forever willing to do whatever a beautiful girl told him to do. He looked at her like the entire world was in her eyes and it was he was determined to make this the best date ever.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x black!reader #peter parker x poc!reader #x black reader #x black!reader #black!reader #spiderman #spiderman x black!reader #sam wilson #bucky barnes #c-nstantine

351 notes · View notes

st4rr-girrl · 11 months

Text

Sam & Colby Masterlist

Colby Brock

Imagines

Saviors

Sam Golbach

105 notes · View notes

elliot-needs-sleep · 2 years

Note

no thoughts head empty just, storyteller reader. they’re a bit of an odd character, always going around the server and asking about everyone’s day and wanting to learn all the minor details of what they did and writing it all down, which makes people very suspicious of reader when all they want to do is learn about different types of people to write stories. obviously doesn’t help since they haven’t told anyone of their secret passion.

so one day a group of people decide to follow reader throughout the day (they’re suspicious reader is spying for dream or something (i’m thinking maybe the group is the las nevadas crew but it’s your choice) (if it’s the las nevadas crew please add my boy slimecicle i miss him :( )) only to find reader walking around the server and handing out some stories they wrote. the group just sees reader going up to tubbo’s mansion in snowchester to give him stories to read to micheal, going to the arctic to give technoblade some revamped greek myths and stories of epic war heroes inspired by him, writing stories to comfort tommy (i imagine his guilty pleasure is children’s books because he never got to experience childhood and likes to babysit micheal so he can read children’s stories without being judged), etc etc.

my guilty pleasure do be characters being sus of reader and getting proved wrong huh-

yours truly,

gremlin anon

Storyteller

Characters: Quackity, Slimecicle, Fundy, Tommyinnit, Tubbo, Technoblade

Fic Type: longer form

Fandom: DSMP

“Are you really sure this is a good idea?” Fundy asked as he followed Charlie and Quackity out of the casino. Purpled and Sam had both said they wanted no part in this, so it was just the three of them. Charlie shrugged, looking towards Quackity.

“No. But they’re acting weird, don’t you think? They walk around asking people a bunch of random information about their days and then they write it down? That’s some sort of sketchy.” Quackity shook his head, continuing down towards the community house. Why there were heading there, no one knew, but you always tended to be around their, one way or another.

Eventually, the crew did see the person they were trying to find, and Quackity almost punched Charlie hard enough to send him back into the ground because he couldn’t shut up. You seemingly didn’t notice as you walked in the direction of Snowchester.

They followed you through the nether highway and hid once you stepped out outside of the mansion. Tubbo was waiting, holding Micheal in his arms.

Quackity was half hidden behind a tree, Fundy and Charlie down in a small valley behind him. He didn't seem to realize that they weren't paying attention to what was going on in front of them.

"Hello, Tubbo! And hello to you too, Micheal!" You smiled and waved as Tubbo put his son down, who then proceeded to run at you and attach himself to your leg. Tubbo shook his head, but his smile indicated that this was a normal thing.

"Here, I had a lot of fun writing these! Some of them are based off of what Tommy's told me about the rest of the server, and Ghostbur's antics from.... Before. I think he'll enjoy them!" He takes the leather bound book from your hands as his son detaches himself from your shin.

"Thank you. We'll see you later, c'mon Micheal." Tubbo leads his son away as you wave goodbye, and hop back into the nether portal.

"That... Was weird. What did they give him?" Quackity looks towards Fundy and Charlie, who were currently finishing off decorating a snow golem.

"Were you two not paying attention at all?" He asks, incredulously, and they both shrug, following you through the back of the nether portal.

"Ughhhhh, you two are the WORST spies ever to be on this server. Even Tommy was better than you guys!" Charlie just sticks his tongue out at Quackity. Little did they know, you were absolutely aware of them following you. They weren't exactly quiet, after all.

Quackity and Charlie bickered the entire way as they followed you in the direction of Techno's base. Fundy was the only one focused enough to wonder why you were heading towards the blood god?

"Guys... we're right near Techno's base. Maybe we shouldn't follow them through?" Fundy stood furthest from the glowing purple portal, the only real light near them. Quackity shook his head, stepping within the frame with Charlie.

"We need to find out what they're up to! C'mon, Fundy, hurry up!" And with that, the portal warped as Charlie and Quackity vanished. Fundy sighed, stepping within the frame as well.

"Is Tommy here, too?" You asked Techno as he stood in the snow in front of you. The Las Nevadas crew couldn't understand how you weren't even slightly intimidated by the piglin hybrid in front of you. You seemed perfectly at home, despite his history on the server.

"Yes, he made his house in my basement, remember?" As if the blond was summoned by sheer will, Tommy was at the door and smiling at you.

"Tommy! Here you go, it took a tiny bit, but I got a lot of inspiration from Niki and her house! There's one that's a tad bit personal to you, but the rest should be okay to read to Micheal, so you shouldn't need to worry!" You beamed at him, and he took the book with a smile, waving goodbye as he yelled his thanks, running back into the small house.

"And for you, Techno, a few reimagined pieces from Greek mythology, and some original ones too! I hope you like them, I've gotta head back though, I need inspiration somehow!" You waved goodbye to the blood god, and the Las Nevadas crew hurried back into the portal before being spotted.

"I knew you three were following me!" Your arms were crossed as you stepped out of the portal behind them, and Quackity turned to glare at you.

"We thought you were doing something wrong-" He started, and Charlie interrupted, peaking around Quackity to look at you.

"What were you doing, by the way?" You tilted your head slightly. They didn't know about your hobby?

"I'm a writer? I thought everyone here knew that. I get inspiration from other people, and a few even have me write a few stories for them regularly, like Tubbo." You explain, walking past them down towards the portal at Las Nevadas, figuring you might as well make sure they stop following you around.

"Oh... is that really what you do?" Quackity ran up beside you, with Fundy and Charlie tailing behind. You rolled your eyes at him, nodding slowly.

"Why would I even lie about it? It's common knowledge. Ask Techno, or Tommy, or Tubbo, or Sam and Purpled for that matter. they've known for awhile now, actually."

------------

"You knew and still let us follow them?!?!" Quackity yelled from across the casino, and he could hear Purpled laugh from somewhere as he hunted down Sam.

"I thought it would be easier to just let you find out yourself." Sam shrugged, completely ignoring the angry Quackity in front of him. "I mean, you were going to make a fool of yourself either way."

"YOU-"

243 notes · View notes

evansbby · 5 months

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark!Steve Rogers x naive!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: VERY DARK ELEMENTS, noncon, extremely rough smut, daddy kink, captain kink, age gap (Steve is very into the age gap), MAJOR size kink, no seriously Steve is HUGE, misogyny, loss of virginity, mentions of blood (heavy mentions), mean Steve (seriously, he has no soul and is very mean, honestly unhinged), anal play, oral (f receiving), innocence kink, naive reader, 18+ ONLY, NO MINORS. MINORS DNI.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Even Captain America deserves a reward after an intense, grueling mission.

𝐀/𝐍: Here we go! 16.3k words. Written very quickly. Not edited so please be forgiving. Also I don't have much knowledge on Shield and all that, so yeah! Final warning to PLEASE read the warnings! Anyways, enjoy!

“The girl’s ready, Captain.”

Steve nods at the SHIELD agent tersely, “She’s in my room?”

“Yes, sir. And all your specifications have been followed.”

“Good. You’re dismissed.”

The agent bows his head before leaving the office, and Steve finds himself pacing. He often paced after gruelling missions, as if trying to get all the leftover adrenaline out. Tonight had been particularly challenging; a local university under threat from HYDRA. Thousands of screaming staff and students, the air painted with gunshots and screams of chaos. But Steve’s team had come to the rescue. Just like they always did.

His team all had different ways of dealing with it, the trauma and evil they saw every day. Clint had his family to go home to, and some middle-of-nowhere farmhouse that Steve would’ve found quaint if he’d given more of a fuck. Tony’s solution was alcohol – copious amounts of it. And maybe that would’ve been Steve’s fate too, stumbling out of a bar at three in the morning having no idea where he was, but of course, he had the serum to thank for avoiding him that. Natasha immersed herself in her friends, Sam partied a lot, Bruce locked himself up in his lab because God knew he was wrestling more demons than anyone else. Except maybe Bucky… But even Bucky had a girl to help him cope.

That left Steve. But Steve had this.

I deserve this. He thinks it to himself as he makes his way out of his office and down the hall toward the elevator. There are SHIELD agents scattered here and there, chattering mindlessly about the successful mission and how, thanks to the Avengers, there were no civilian deaths. But they all hush when they see him, parting like the Red Sea, their heads bowed in respect as he walks past them. The Captain. The hero. Their leader. He’s still in his suit, the shield still on his back and bloodied cuts decorating his face. Nevertheless, he’s the face of the Avengers. Everyone in this building looks up to him.

Everyone on the face of this Earth looks up to him.

And a few minutes later, when he gets off the elevator and to his private floor, walks over to his bedroom door and opens it, he finds a large pair of eyes looking up at him too.

You jump, the fear on your face so evident that Steve can almost smell it. Standing in the corner of his room as if you want to permeate through the wall or maybe disappear altogether. Your arms hug your body in a bid to hide it from whoever you thought was going to enter this room, but you seem to relax once you see that it’s him.

“C-Captain, it’s you! Oh, thank God!” Your shoulders sag in relief, although – much to Steve’s displeasure – you continue to cover your body with your arms, “I-I don’t know what happened, but there’s some bad people here, and they took me while I was being evacuated from the university, a-and they brought me here and they wouldn’t answer my questions and–”

Steve frowns as you drone on and on, talking about a mile a minute – a quality he doesn’t particularly care for in a woman. But his eyes drink you nevertheless. You look young – a college student, no doubt – but he finds he doesn’t mind that. In fact, it makes his cock harden, seeing how wide-eyed and naïve you look, a lot younger than him. A pretty face, and an attractive body too despite the fact that you seemed hell bent on hiding it from him.

“Put your arms down by your side.” He commands you, watching closely as you stop mid-sentence, your voice trailing off. He can tell you’re uncomfortable, confused, and probably tired out from fighting and arguing with his agents. But he knows already what’s going through your mind: that you’ll obey because it’s Captain America, and Captain America was a hero who always meant well. Hesitantly, slowly, your arms fall down to your sides.

Steve had very specific tastes, and his agents knew to follow his instructions to a tee. Which was why you stood before him, your body sheathed in the prettiest, most expensive vintage lingerie. All lacy and intricate, just how Steve liked it – white and silky, hugging your body like a second skin and accentuating your curves, making you look like half angel, half seductress. He’d long ago, in a different lifetime, pored over old pin-up magazines, just like any other boy his age would. He’d likened the white lingerie in the pictures to be what his innocent bride would wear the night he deflowered her. Back in the forties, back when he’d been a different man, a man who actually cared about trivial things like marriage and family. Years of war and fighting had beaten that out of him.

And yet, almost a century later, Steve still has a partiality for white, lacy lingerie.

After every mission (successful or not) SHIELD would bring him a girl in vintage lingerie. Always an unsuspecting girl who had no idea what she was being pulled into. They came in all sorts of varieties; crying, kicking, screaming, paralysed in fear when they realised the reason they were in his bedroom. But Steve deserved it, for every single sacrifice he’d made for his country, for the world – he deserved this one bit of pleasure. Bucky had his girl, Sam had his parties, Tony had his alcohol, Bruce had his lab… And Steve had this.

And it was the least you could do, the least all those girls before you could do, because hadn’t Steve saved you? Saved all of you? This was his payment. You were his reward.

“C-Captain?” He notices how you can’t help but stutter, and he finds it amusing despite the fact that he’s used to having this effect on women – especially immature college girls like you. You gesture down to your body, “Th-This isn’t how I was dressed – they put me in this, those bad guys! N-Now I don’t know where my clothes are, and, and…”

Once more, your voice trails off as Steve walks past you nonchalantly. He heads to the bathroom, making sure to leave the door open so he can keep an eye on you lest you try to escape. Not that you’d get very far – this whole floor was his and every lock required his facial recognition to open. In the past, other girls had tried to escape, and sometimes Steve enjoyed the chase. But tonight, he felt tense. He’d wanted to capture all the HYDRA agents but two of them had escaped. To Steve, that was failure, and failure made him tense. Angry. Frustrated. He needed someone submissive, obedient, quiet…

“C-Captain, I’m gonna be okay, aren’t I?” You ask, voice high-pitched and shaky, and Steve almost smirks. He stands in front of the sink, surveying the scratches on his face. They’d heal overnight, and once more he’d be the perfect face of the Avengers. The face of America. The face of hope, the face of good. If only they knew what went on behind his eyes, the thoughts he thought, the darkness behind the façade.

He washes his hands, observing the blood as it swirls down the drain of the sink.

“Sir… Captain… Is there a way I could call my family? They’ll be worried about me, and those people took my phone so I don’t–”

“Get on the bed.”

“H-Huh?”

“Get on the bed. I won’t repeat myself.”

Steve’s voice is soft, levelled, yet commanding. And he knows you’ll listen. He’s been over this with so many of the other girls brought in for him as a post-mission reward. You still trust him, he can see it in your eyes. You know him as the superhero you see on TV, where he’s all clean-cut and politically correct as he commands the hearts of millions through his motivational speeches and actions. And by the looks of it, you’re so naïve that he knows you haven’t yet figured out what “get on the bed” truly infers to.

And so you do, gingerly settling down on the edge of his king-sized bed, shaking like a little leaf but he can tell that you’re trying to keep a brave face as you look up at him, determined to trust the super-soldier that the whole country trusted. And breaking that trust, breaking that spirit that shone in your innocent eyes, that was the sweet release he needed tonight, or any other night after each mission made him grow more disillusioned. Breaking your trust, breaking your body so all of this was worth it.

Sometimes, Steve wonders when exactly he had changed. He remembers how plucky and optimistic he used to be. A little bit sardonic, a little bit sarcastic, but he really did have a heart of gold – at least that’s what people told him. Even after they’d dug him out from that iceberg, he’d still been that same guy. But that was years ago, and each day he grew more disillusioned with what he preached, what he stood for. He could never settle, never feel like he fully belonged in the world he kept risking his life to save over and over again. Even Bucky, who’d gone through so much, had managed to find fulfilment through finding love.

Steve, on the other hand, doesn’t think love exists.

What does exist is you… Sweet, quivering, innocent little you. The SHIELD agents know his tastes down to a tee, and physically, you’re everything he likes, everything he prefers. It’s nights like these when Steve really feels alive, when he snuffs out the innocence of some unsuspecting girl and reaps his reward for saving countless lives. He deserves this. God knows he deserves this.

“What’re you doing?” You whisper, eyes round as saucers as he reaches out to stroke your hair. He bristles slightly, annoyed by your persistant questions. You should know better – he was your superior after all. But you’d learn by the time the night was over, and so Steve resumes petting you, slipping his hand down to rub your cheek, feel your smooth skin under the rough callouses of his hand.

The same hand that had choked two or three HYDRA bastards to death earlier tonight.

“You will address me as Captain.” He says, dismantling his shield from his back and placing it on the floor against the bed. He follows your gaze, how your mouth drops open in awe despite how scared you are. His cock hardens, knowing you’re impressed by him. By his size, because he’s aware he looks even bigger in person than on the news – enough girls have told him that. And by the shield too, because it reflected his power, his status, everything that he supposedly stood for.

You clear your throat nervously, “S-Sorry, uh, Captain, I just, uh, I was wondering when you’d take me home,” you say the last few words quickly, as if you’re mouth’s dry and you’re rushing to get all your words out. “I n-need to get home, my parents will be worried about me, Captain, and I have homework–”

Steve almost snorts at that. Homework. You were even more innocent than he thought you were, if one of your biggest concerns was whether you’d get your homework done or not. And this naivete amuses him, enamours him, but most importantly, it gets him hard.

“You’ll be taken home tomorrow.” He informs you, his tone clipped and formal, clinical like a doctor informing his patient when they’d be discharged. He liked to keep it like that between him and his “rewards.” Steve didn’t believe in intimacy, and didn’t feel the need to waste kindness on you or any of the previous girls. He faked kindness and heroic optimism all day, it was only at night in the privacy of his quarters that he could shed all that away and allow his darkness to take over.

“T-Tomorrow? Why? Why not tonight? And why am I here, anyways? Everyone else was evacuated together!”

“Enough.” He says sternly, and you shrink back like a chastised child, or an injured puppy. He watches your lower lip as it juts out, and he wonders if you’ve done that on purpose as a way to appease him. He wouldn’t fall for it though, he was wise to women and all their cheap tricks they used to wrap weaker, lesser men around their fingers. Steve would never be one of those men. “You will not speak unless I give you permission.”

Your lower lip quivers, “I don’t understand…”

He sits down next to you, acutely aware of how much bigger he is than you. Leisurely, his eyes drink in your body now that he’s much closer to you. The bra pushes your breasts upwards so they spill out attractively over the creamy white lace of the lingerie, and he watches them rise up and down as you breathe heavily, probably trying to keep yourself from crying. He wishes you would cry – tears have always turned him on. But the night is young, and he knows he’ll see some tears soon, he always does.

“C-Captain, please, please help me! I’m so confused and I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t know how I got into this outfit, I think they drugged me, and I’m scared, and I have homework, and I gotta go now, so pl– OW!”

Steve yanks you forward by your hair, till your face is inches from his, and he can practically smell your fear. Eyes as big as saucers look up at him, shining bright with unshed tears of both fear and pain. He loosens his grip slightly, despite the fact he isn’t holding you too tightly – but the serum gives him inhumane strength, and you’re just a weak little girl after all.

“Once again, I’m telling you not to speak without permission. Do not make me repeat myself one more time.”

You swallow harshly, bowing your head once he lets go of your hair. But your lips are now pressed tightly together, as if you’re hoping he’ll take you home if you shut up and listen. There’s still light in your eyes, you’re beginning to question him inwardly but you still trust him, Steve knows you do. And it’s not long now before he crushes that trust completely.

He sighs at your compliance, stroking your quivering bare arm, thrill shooting straight down to his cock because of how soft and smooth you are. He likes the juxtaposition between the two of you right now: you, so soft and small, so much younger than him, like a doll in your pretty lingerie that he’d picked out. And him, more than double your size, jaded with age that didn’t physically show, bloodied and scratched suit, rough hands, dark thoughts.

“C-Captain, I’m scared,” you whisper, and you really do look like you’re about to wet yourself, and it turns him on so much that he doesn’t even bristle at you speaking out of turn again.

“Good.” He murmurs, continuing to stroke you like you’re his little doll. There’s something about you, something so pure that he can’t really put his finger on. In the past, he’s been detached, unforgiving, often just throwing his “reward” on the bed, holding her head down against the mattress while he fucked the living daylights out of her. He would be detached and cold with you too, but this time he feels a peculiar need to savour you at the same time.

It's when he grabs your hand and places it on his hard crotch that you start crying in earnest, finally realising your fate.

“What’re you– No, please, not that! Please, I don’t know what’s going on, Captain, please–”

You try to snatch your hand back, but he holds it steadily in place. You’d never be a match for his strength, no matter how hard you tried – he had more brute power in his pinkie finger than you did in your whole body. And that turns him on even more.

“You’ll go home tomorrow,” he repeats, not even sure why he’s explaining anything to you, because he usually doesn’t speak to the girls brought for him at all, let alone reassure them. “Tomorrow, you’ll see your family but tonight, your body is mine and I’ll do with it what I please.”

You look like you’ve seen a ghost, but quickly you shake your head, blinking rapidly as if you’ve misheard him. “N-No, Captain, I don’t want to! Y-You can’t make me,” you look at him pleadingly, trying to tug your hand back but he holds it firmly against his covered cock, “You won’t make me, will you, Captain? Th-That’s wrong! An’ you’re a good man so you’d never do that!”

“Take it out.”

A different man would have perhaps consoled you, told you it would all be over soon, or maybe even made up an excuse to manipulate you into sleeping with him. A better man would’ve taken pity on you, given you your clothes back and taken you home. But Steve wasn’t like any of those men. All Steve was right now was impatient, and more than ready for his reward. I deserve it, he thinks once more to himself, before pressing your small hand down on his crotch meaningfully.

“Take my dick out.” He repeats sternly, and when you still don’t comply (probably because you’re frozen in shock and fear) Steve can’t help but quickly undo his fly before pushing your hand down his suit pants, letting out a hiss when he feels your dainty palm and fingers on his rock-hard flesh.

“No, no, no, please no,” you cry softly, rivulets of tears streaking your face, “This is wrong, Captain, please.”

He makes you wrap your hand around his cock, smirking to himself when your fingers don’t even come close to wrapping around all the way. The serum had made him a lot bigger than average, and a lot thicker too. So much so that every time he had sex, no matter how much he stretched the girls out, there would always be blood. He’d grown to become turned on by the sight of it.

“I’ve seen you on TV,” you whisper desperately, and he knows you’re in that state of mind where you’re just so scared that you’ll say anything and everything, “I’ve seen how you are, a-and you’re supposed to be the good guy, Captain. Please, let me go, y-you’re a good man so please–”

“Shut up.” He says simply, making you take his dick out. That quietens you up for a second, and you gape at his huge dick as it slaps up against his abs which are still covered by the suit. He hasn’t had sex or jacked off in about a week now (missions, press conferences, community work and other bullshit had kept him busy) and his dick is almost angry hard, the veins so prominent as he throbs in your hand.

“Stroke it.” He instructs you.

You shake your head, hand limp around his hard cock, “You c-can’t, this is wrong.”

“Drop the coy act,” he orders you, feeling a surge of impatience when he’s tried to be level with you for so long, “I know what you kids watch these days on the internet, and all the vulgar movies on television. Now do what I fucking say, or else.”

You look both taken aback and hurt by his sharper tone, and immediately you’re shaking your head.

“N-No, Sir, please. I don’t watch any of that stuff, I’m not allowed to, okay? A-And this is wrong on so many levels, you’re meant to be a good guy!”

Steve finds his cock hardening even more when he hears how you’re not allowed to watch the vulgarity that’s become so normalised in the media now as compared to back in the day. Were you, perhaps, a girl with morals? Someone who was raised well? He had yet to run in to such a girl in the twenty-first century.

“I’ve seen you on the news,” you try again when he doesn’t speak, “you and the Avengers, you’ve saved c-countless people. You’ve won wars for us. I w-went to see you when you gave a talk at my school last year, the one about good versus evil. You’re an inspiration, Captain, you wouldn’t do this!”

You’re talking a mile a minute, and Steve knows you’re doing it to prolong time till your inevitable fate. He’s tortured enough men to know that goners loved to run their mouths. As for what you’re saying, it has zero effect on him. He didn’t believe in what he said, what he stood for – you could never use that to persuade him to take a higher road.

He starts moving your hand up and down on his dick, hissing again because of how pleasurable your dainty hand feels on his rock-hard length, not to mention how much it turns him on that you’re still trying to pull your hand away, looking anywhere but at his cock, embarrassment mixing with the bone-chilling fear on your face.

“Y-You’re not a good man!” you finally sob out, shaking from head to toe as realisation finally seeps through your head.

Your words bristle Steve for whatever reason. In the past, his “rewards” have often back-talked him, insulted him as if they thought their words would have any impact on him – which they never did. But seeing you, with your bright, optimistic eyes that clearly looked up to him up until this moment, hearing you call him a bad guy… It makes him feel defensive.

“I saved you.” He spits out, “HYDRA attacked your university and I saved you and all your little friends. You’d be dead if it weren’t for me.”

You nod desperately, “I-I know, Captain, that’s why I don’t understand why you’re doing thi–”

“I deserve this.” He says simply, cutting you off. “I risk my life to save unthankful people like you, over and over again. Even a super soldier deserves payment, or at least an incentive to do what I do.”

Your jaw drops open, speechless and horrified. Steve couldn’t care less, and he feels another wave of impatience. Two weeks ago, he’d endured a similarly gruelling mission, and his reward had been waiting for him in his room. She’d been mouthy, of course, as most women of the twenty-first century were, but he’d fucked her and sent her packing within fifteen minutes. So why, on this particular occasion, was he sitting here making idle chit-chat with some dumb-witted college girl who was half his age?

He's always been quick, and you yelp in surprise when he grabs you by the waist, his rough fingers digging into your soft skin. He drags you into his lap, till you’re crying on top of him, your back to his chest. You struggle and flail against him, but it’s to no avail as he presses you down on top of his thigh, spreading your legs and locking them with his own.

“Stop struggling,” he orders you through gritted teeth, although he has to admit that having a weak girl like you fighting against him with all her might while he held you down with just his one arm was quite arousing, “It’ll be easier for you if you just stay still.”

“Please don’t, I-I’m not ready for this, I’ve never done this before, I–”

Steve snorts at that. He knows you’re young, but he also knows that girls in this century are promiscuous, and that’s putting it kindly. How many lies would you tell before you realised they’d all be in vain? He was goddamned Captain America, and he was going to have his way with you tonight no matter what came out of that pretty, pouty mouth of yours.

Grabbing your soft, bare thighs with his hands, he pushes them further apart, all while you cry and quiver in his arms like a wounded animal. Your white, lacy panties hide your pussy from his greedy, impatient gaze, and he wants nothing more than to rip your lingerie apart and ravage you to soothe the ache of his hard cock which is currently pressing against your back.

“Push your panties aside.” He commands, “and don’t even think about arguing with me. One more word of insubordination out of you, and you don’t even want to know what I’ll do.”

You’re sobbing and sobbing as you gingerly do what he says, and he licks his lips when he sees your bare pussy, trussed out for him as he holds your legs apart. He can’t help but press a finger on your bundle of nerves before swiping downwards over your slit. He frowns. You’re not wet. That simply won’t do.

Of course, he’s been in this situation before. Not often, because truthfully, women got wet the second they looked at him, turned on by his size, his power, his authority. But sometimes, like now, when one of his “rewards” was very scared and non-compliant, she wouldn’t be wet. Steve didn’t care, and he’d go in dry if he could except, with the sheer size of his dick, it just wasn’t physically possible. Often, he’d tell the SHIELD agents to prep his rewards before they were sent to his room – stretch their pussies out by whatever means (he didn’t care) so long as they were able to take his girth.

But you… Oh, he reckons he’ll have fun with stretching you out all by himself.

“Touch yourself.” He says into your ear, holding you in place tightly.

“I…I…I don’t know how, I don’t– I don’t do this, I’ve never done this, I–”

There’s something about your frightened demeanour that makes him realise that maybe you’re not lying after all. He raises a brow, “You’ve never touched yourself?”

“N-No, Sir – I mean Captain – I’m not allowed to. My parents are very conservative, Sir, I haven’t even had my first kiss. Please don’t make me do this!”

Steve didn’t think it was possible for his dick to get any harder, but it does. So big and painfully hard, it presses against your back almost indecently as he licks his lips, now infinitely more interested in you. So you were a girl raised right in these godforsaken “modern” times. His mind conjures up different ways in which he could teach you, mould you, ruin you… He doesn’t remember the last time he had a virgin – it was probably back in the forties, back when women were pure and of good heart and good intentions.

Maybe tonight’s reward would be sweeter than any other.

He grabs your hand, pressing it against your petal-soft folds. He takes your pointer finger and slowly, gently, circles it around your clit. You fight against him but it only takes you a few seconds to realise that your efforts are completely futile. Steve does not care for what you want, not in the least. You’re his reward, and he deserves this.

He leaves your finger on your clit, shooting you a deathly look that conveys that you better keep circling it or else. His own eager fingers explore your core, slipping down to probe you, finding that not even one of his fingers fits inside your little fuckhole. In fact, he tries pushing his pinkie finger up inside but to no avail at all. Fuck. You weren’t lying – you were definitely a virgin. Another telltale sign is how it only takes a handful of seconds before your wetness begins to spread, and you whimper softly – probably at all the foreign sensations you’re feeling as Steve continues to probe your hole.

“Feels good, huh?” Steve hears himself say softly, and he doesn’t know why he’s bothering wasting words on you. He never spoke to any of his other rewards – they were only there for his pleasure, and may as well have been inanimate objects to him. Dolls brought in for him to use and then promptly taken away when he was done with them. But you? Fuck, Steve doesn’t know what’s come over him.

“I-It won’t fit, Captain, please stop,” you cry softly when he tries to force his finger into you again. You’re adequately wet now, but your pussy continues to reject his finger, and he knows there’s no way you’ll be able to take his dick if he doesn’t stretch you out with his fingers first.

“I’ll make it fit,” he mutters, throwing you aside on the bed and standing up quickly. He sucks his finger into his mouth, tasting your sweetness and shutting his eyes for a second to savour your taste. And then he shoots you a warning look, “Stay there.”

He smirks when you don’t move an inch – probably paralysed with fear – as he walks over to the dresser next to his bed. Rummaging through his drawers, he sorts past all the sex toys that some agent had probably stocked up inside. Steve didn’t have much use for them, as he considered himself too traditional for toys. But he can’t help but be turned on by the idea of using a large dildo on you, or stuffing your virgin ass with a cute plug. But for right now, he grabs the bottle of lube – it’s half empty because of how often he’s had to use it on his past partners. Since the serum, his dick was way too big to go in naturally, especially when it came to a sweet virgin like you.

Roughly, he pushes you down till your back is pressed against his king-sized mattress. He climbs on top of you, rolling his eyes at the fight left in you, how you flail and fight against him despite his body being more than twice your size. He uses his arm to hold you down, but truthfully, he could’ve done it with just his pinkie finger.

“Stay still,” he commands, pinning your limbs down flat against the bed. You resort to sniffling and crying silently, your wary eyes watching him as he spreads your legs as wide as they’ll go. A sudden feral urge takes over him, and he rips your panties in half, the flimsy material landing gracefully on his sheets. Your bare pussy glistens up at him, now wet with your sweet cream despite how much you continue to cry. He can smell your sexy aroma; the scent of a virgin pussy and it goes straight to his dick.

With an animalistic snarl, he dips his head down between your legs. Using two fingers to spread your creamy petals, he lays his tongue flat against your quivering fuckhole. You scream in shock, body jerking underneath him but he doesn’t care. He grips your thighs, lifting your ass and lower back up off the bed, watching carnally as your wetness drips down to between your ass crack. He spreads your cheeks, smirking when you wail in surprise. He digs his eager tongue between your cheeks, probing your puckered, virgin ass before licking a straight line all the way back up to your pussy, ending with a harsh suck on your clit as he holds your hands at bay.

It’s come out of nowhere, this sudden need to taste you. Back in the forties; Steve had rather enjoyed going down on women. He knew he was skilled at giving head, he’d been told more than enough times. But he can’t remember the last time he’d done it. Never with any of his “rewards,” who were only ever good for fucking on their hands and knees like dogs. But you, you were different.

You wiggle, crying and begging him to let go of you but you may as well be a fly with how weak and inconsequential your pleas are to his ears. Instead, he laps at your baby cunt like he’s starved. Like a starved caveman, he spits down on your clit, wanting to make your pureness as messy as possible. He spreads his saliva all over your core with his fingers, marking you up with his DNA. He encases your now engorged bundle of nerves between his lips once more, giving it another hard suck but this time his teeth graze against it.

“C-Captain, oh-oh my God–Ah!”

It’s when Steve finally forces his one finger inside you that you squirt, drenching his digit as your walls clamp down around it. And God-fucking-dammit, he can’t believe how tight you’re squeezing his one singular finger, how tight and sexy and soft you feel around it. How your slippery walls pulsate around his digit like you’ve never cum before in your life – which would explain how quickly you’ve come undone. Some of your wetness lands on his face, some of it on the sheets beneath you, and that’s when Steve realises he’s given a virgin her first orgasm.

He can’t help but smirk, his finger still lodged inside you, but not even halfway because you’re still so fucking tight.

“Doesn’t seem like you want me to stop after all, sweetheart.” He says, not realising he’s used the pet-name on you until it’s already out of his mouth. He sets the lower half of your body back down on the bed, his finger still inside you.

You sniffle as your whole body shakes with the remnants of your orgasm, “P-Please,” you say faintly, and you can’t even raise your head to look down at him, “Please, can I go home now?”

Steve’s lip curls into a snarl, and he drives his finger inside you with renewed force, curving it upwards even when he feels resistance. You scream bloody murder, and he knows if your orgasm hadn’t sapped all your energy, you’d be flailing your legs again. But for now, he easily holds you down, feeling your soft walls encase his finger which is now up to the hilt inside you. That’s when he grabs the bottle of lube, squirting out a generous amount onto the rest of his fingers.

“N-No, Captain, please, I can’t take another one, I can’t, I can’t!” You plead, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. “Captain – Steve – please listen to me, please, look, I can’t take another finger, pl–”

His palm lands on your clit with a wet smacking sound, and you howl in pain, your pelvis lifting off the bed except he pins you back down with just one hand.

“Don’t fucking use my first name. You will address me as Captain. One more slip up and I won’t do you the favour of stretching you out.” His intense blue eyes meet your tear-filled ones, “And trust me, you want to be stretched out for when I fuck you.”

With gritted teeth and a cock that’s now painfully hard, he gets to work trying to stuff another finger into your pussy. His other hand grabs your hip in a bruising grip, and his fingers stroke your smooth, bouncy ass every so often like he can’t help it. You’re turning him on so fucking much; with your crying, how you’re begging him to stop, how weak and small you are, how fucking tight your pussy is. It makes Steve want to say something just so he can hear you speak in response, despite the fact that he’s never vocal during sex.

“Tell me, why is your pussy so fucking tight?”

“H-Huh?”

“You heard me.”

You sniffle again, shooting him a pleading look that he doesn’t even bother acknowledging. He just looks at you with waiting eyes as he nonchalantly continues to force his second finger inside you. He wants to hear you say naughty things with your innocent little mouth, and talking would get you to fucking relax so he could penetrate you with his digits properly in order to stretch you out in preparation for his dick.

“I-I’ve never done this before…” you scrunch your eyes shut, but a quick slap to your thigh has you opening them again.

“You’ve never fingered yourself?”

“No!”

“Tell me why not.”

You bow your head, “I don’t know… I just… I never did, okay? I’ve never done any of it.”

A wicked thought crosses Steve’s mind, “Oh yeah? You’ve never done anything naughty, huh? You’re a good girl?” His second finger curves up to join the first, and your hips jerk forward as you suck in your breath. It makes him smile, and he slowly begins to pump his two fingers in and out of you, “You’ve never, say, humped your baby cunt against your pillow at night? Or your stuffed animals?”

The way you freeze and how your eyes widen is all the confirmation Steve needs. He chuckles darkly.

“So that’s the type of girl you are. Riding your pillow at night when you think no one’s watching, and you probably touch your body all over, too, don’t you?” Lightning quick, his other hand leaves your hip, grabbing your wrist and bringing your hand up to your chest. Through the material of your bra, he makes you cup your breast like how he would, wanting to watch with dark eyes as you play with your tits, trying to imagine how hot you’d look doing just that all alone in the privacy of whatever girlish bedroom you had.

Steadily, he continues to finger you, pumping his digits in and out of your greedy, wet pussy, and it makes slurping sounds as it swallows his fingers in over and over again. And he observes you carefully, notices your wide eyes, the sweat on your brow, the way your lips are parted as your breathing shallows out. He even sees the slight buck of your hips, and he knows he has you where he wants you, hanging on to his every filthy word despite your mind screaming at you to continue resisting.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Steve mutters lowly, “I know that’s what all innocent little girls like you do when they think they’re alone. You play with your tits and you rub your cunt all over your pillow, till you’ve got it all wet and messy. All while you fantasise about a man like me fucking you, taking care of you, huh? I’m right, aren’t I?”

You’re full on panting now, as if his beguiling words have made you forget all about your resistance, and you rock your hips harder against his thick fingers, little pants and moans sneaking past your pouty lips as he watches you closely.

“And then you act like a good girl, and you lie to me and tell me you’ve never touched yourself. But you and I both know that’s not true. Not when you spend your nights alone in your bedroom riding your little pillow while mommy and daddy sleep in the next room, and then when you’re done, I bet you bring it up to your face, just so you can smell your own wetness, right?”

This time, he gives your ass a swift slap when you don’t reply, and you cry out in pain before squeezing your eyes shut.

“Y-Yes,” you breathe softly, so softly that he barely catches it. But it makes him grin wickedly all the same. He hasn’t had this much fun with a reward since God knows when. He never bothers speaking to the lowlife girls brought to him as post-mission rewards, let alone engaging in dirty talk with them as he was with you, hanging on to your every word because it makes his dick so fucking hard.

“Of course, I’m right,” he mutters, “Captain always knows. I know you’re a little slut in the making just like all the other college girls of this century. You bring your pillow up to your face and you smell your cunt on there, and you lick it too, don’t you? You taste yourself because you’re curious, and you don’t have a man like me to show you how it’s done.”

He slips his fingers out of your cunt, your walls automatically squeezing around them as if they want to keep him inside you. But his digits are dripping wet, and he brings them up to your face. He shoves them past your lips, and you protest but all it does is create vibrations around his fingers as he smears them inside your mouth.

“Taste yourself,” he orders you, “suck on daddy’s fingers, don’t be shy.”

It takes him a few seconds to register that he’s just referred to himself as daddy. He hasn’t done that in a while – not since the forties, at least. Back then, it was quite common for women to call their man daddy, and Steve remembers enjoying it when he used to fuck the show girls during tours. But now? He usually stuck to being called “sir” or “captain” or just nothing at all. Because “daddy” was way too intimate, it suggested that he was going to take care of you. And he wasn’t going to take care of you – he was going to ruin you before you’d be taken away tomorrow.

And yet you look so sweet and cute as you suck on his fingers, too scared to fight back any more although your eyes blaze with objection, and tears stream down your face. He doesn’t think you’ll stop crying at all tonight, but he doesn’t give a fuck about that. Not when your pouty lips look so hot sucking yourself off his fingers.

“That’s right, get ‘em nice and wet,” he murmurs lowly, before deciding he misses the feel of your tight cunt squeezing his fingers – and he still has to stretch you out, too. He removes his digits from your mouth, watching as you gasp to breathe. He trails them down your front, down your chest, down your torso, all the way down to your clit. He gives it another smack, loving how you jerk upwards like you’re so damn sensitive.

He grabs a pillow, putting it underneath your ass so he has your cunt propped up and he can examine it better. Your cream is pouring out of you almost, dripping down to the pillow below you while you cry and pretend you don’t like it. But the signs are all there, he can even see how your pelvis shakes and humps upwards, because you need a man to fill you up no matter how much you protest.

“Tight little baby cunt,” he says softly as he spreads your pussy lips once more. You look so wet and slippery and yet he knows he needs to pour some more lube into your fuckhole, which he does. And then, without giving you much time to react, he shoves three of his fingers inside you, pushing harder and with more force when he’s met with any barrier.

“STOP, NO, PLEASE! STOP, CAPTAIN – TOO MUCH!” You scream so loudly that the walls seem to vibrate around the two of you.

“Shut up and take it,” Steve says, narrowing his eyes up at you before he focuses back on your gorgeous cunt, watching as your leaking hole finally swallows his three digits, “Look at this greedy little virgin pussy, so ready for my big dick to split her in half.”

You shake your head violently, crying and protesting, but it’s when you bat at his head that he sees red. How fucking dare you hit him? Just now, when he was thinking you’d been raised well, but clearly not if you didn’t think it was a problem to hit your superiors.

“You raise your hand at me again, and I’ll hit you back twice as hard.”

His menacing words make you freeze, and you whimper quietly in absolute fear as he continues to play with your pussy. He fingers you in earnest now, three of his digits stretching you out as he scissors you open, amused by the squelching sounds your cunt makes as it swallows his fingers over and over again.

“Apologise to me,” Steve demands, “say you will not raise your hand at your superior ever again.”

You sniffle, “S-Sorry…”

“Sorry, who?” He pinches your ass unforgivingly.

“Sorry, Captain! I won’t raise my hand at my superiors, okay? I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You squeal the last few words, your pitch going higher and higher as your hips begin to meet his thrusts. And bless your innocent fucking face, you look so confused by what’s happening. Your pussy’s jammed tight but he knows it must’ve started feeling good. All greedy little girls like you needed was a little push in the right direction.

Off their own accord, your thighs lock around his hand as you cum for a second time, your walls squeezing and pulsating against his fingers so fucking tightly as you mewl and cry above him. You’re absolutely gushing with wetness now, and the pillow below your ass is stained dark with your juices. For someone who kept claiming she didn’t want this, you sure were receptive to his touch.

Steve snatches his fingers out of you, smirking when you, despite everything, cry in protest at the loss of friction. He bets your pussy feels all gaping and empty now, because he knows how big and thick his fingers are. A normal-sized man would’ve had trouble stretching your virgin cunt out with his dick – Steve had had that same problem with just his fingers.

But he knows he’ll somehow manage to fit his cock inside you if he prepped you well enough. Or else he’d spend the whole night trying to. Often, with the women he’d slept with in the past, he’d be too impatient and couldn’t be bothered to prep them properly. Because of that, he’d only be able to fit half his dick inside them, and he’d grown used to fucking them like that, only because it was physically impossible to go any deeper. He won’t let that be the case tonight.

He climbs up your quivering body, and you look spent already after two orgasms, your eyes fluttering like you’re about to pass out. Steve can’t have that though, and he taps your cheek not so gently, hovering on top of you till you open your eyes and meet his gaze.

“Please, Captain,” you whisper faintly, “E-Enough, please. Can’t take any more.”

Steve ignores you. He’s grown distracted by your lips. How wet and warm and pouty they look, glistening with a mix of your salty tears, your cum and your saliva. Fuck. He never kissed any of his “rewards” before, it was too intimate and Steve didn’t do intimacy. But maybe…

He spits down on your face, his saliva landing on your cheek as you cringe. Fuck intimacy, Steve thinks, using his hand to smear his spit all over your face, till it’s shining with a mixture of both your bodily fluids. So messy yet so pretty…

“N-Never been kissed before!” you blurt out once more all of a sudden, as if you’ve read his mind. Your eyes plead up at him, a tiny bit of hope in your eyes as if you truly believe he’ll show you empathy and spare you, “P-Please, Sir. I’ve never been kissed, a-and I want it to be special…”

How cute. You were worried about him spoiling your first kiss as if he hadn’t just finger-fucked you to two orgasms in the span five minutes. Amused, he brings his thumb up to your mouth, stroking your pouty bottom lip gently.

“You don’t let the boys at your college kiss you?” He asks, again not fully understanding why he’s even bothering to talk to you, but he figures it’s simply because he finds it amusing.

“N-No, Captain.”

“Why not?”

“I’m t-too shy, and they’re not… they’re not interested in me,” you sound so shaky, peering up at him as if you expect him to just get off you now you’ve told him your sob story about wanting to save your first kiss to be something special.

Steve snorts. And just how fucking naïve could you be? You’re fucking delectable, he bets the lowlifes at your college creamed their pants thinking about you. Suddenly, he bristles at the thought of sending you back tomorrow, back to the dumb idiots you went to college with. But he shakes the thought out of his mind to focus solely on you.

“There’s nothing special about kissing,” he tells you, “Love, intimacy, saving yourself for that special someone – none of that’s real. The sooner you realise that, the better.”

He kisses you, cupping your cheeks with his hands so that you don’t move your face aside. At first, he’s rough, unforgiving, pressing his tongue into your mouth because you taste so sweet and he needs to get more. And then he slows down, registers your soft, quivering lips on his, how rigid they are as you don’t kiss him back. He snorts inwardly, not caring in the least. He’d kiss you all he wanted – he doesn’t care if you don’t respond.

Steve sighs into your mouth, so tuned in to your senses that he feels your breath hitch, and a tiny squeak sounds past your lips and straight into his. His thumbs, seemingly moving off their own accord, stroke your cheekbones, and he feels your body instinctively relax underneath his – probably because that’s the first and only gentle gesture you’ve felt from him this whole night.

Slowly, he sucks your bottom lip almost sweetly, as if lulling you into a false sense of security. You’re still too scared or shy to kiss him back, but that doesn’t make the kiss any less enjoyable for him. His tongue plays with yours coaxingly, because he can’t remember the last time he kissed a girl and liked it so much. And then he feels you give a tiny little kitten lick, as if you’re testing the waters as you move your tongue shyly against his. And the feeling goes straight to his dick.

He pulls away slightly to watch your face, amused when he sees your eyes scrunched shut and your lips slightly pursed, as if awaiting another kiss. And that’s what he does, giving you one, two, three quick pecks that have you inhaling deeply, and your eyes open cautiously. But they flutter shut almost immediately when they find him staring back at you.

Steve goes in for another kiss, as if one wasn’t enough because suddenly it’s like he’s parched, and his raging hard on would have to wait a second longer. His dick is as hard as a metal rod, resting against your bare stomach as he makes out with you. One of his hands reach down to cup your breast, and he can feel your nipple, hard as glass, poke against his palm even through the material of the bra. You squeak into his mouth again, as if him touching and playing with your breast is making your body invertedly respond to him.

He can definitely feel you kissing him back now, even though it’s shy and periodic… Your tongue moving slowly against his for a few seconds before you remember you’re not supposed to be enjoying this and you freeze. And then you start again, your tongue timidly stroking against his once more. Then you stop again. Repeat. It makes him smirk against your lips, feeling a rumbling in his chest like he wants to chuckle in amusement.

He pulls away, examining how breathless and cute you look. And you gaze up at him with glassy, wet eyes, those perfect, pouty lips still slightly puckered, as if you’re asking for more. But he continues to just drink in every detail of your face and how you look a mix of scared and curious, afraid and confused.

“W-Was I bad?” you breathe, and your innocent face is begging for reassurance. He knows because little girls like you always want reassurance, are always seeking out the approval of men like him. And a part of him wants to tell you no, no you weren’t bad at all. In fact, he rather enjoyed kissing you. But he keeps his mouth shut, because it wasn’t his job to reassure you. And maybe he wants you to be a bit insecure; you’d work harder in pleasing him if you thought he didn’t like your kiss.

He’s still cupping your breast with one hand, and he suddenly feels a wave of irritation at the lacy material of your bra. Quick as a wink, he tears your bra apart, the two ripped pieces now lying on either side of you. A hungry growl emanates from him, and he feels like an animal, he really just wants to suck on your tits but his dick is growing impatient, and you’d probably pass out from fear and dread if he stretched this out any longer.

He reaches to grab a condom from where he stashes them in his bedside drawer. Protection was a must for him – who knew what kinds of diseases all these modern, promiscuous girls were carrying? And yet, his hand falters before he draws back completely, his mind clouding with thoughts of how sexy your soft pussy would feel around his dick if he fucked you raw. Yes. He had to fuck you raw, feel your tight virgin pussy around him as he ruined it. He deserved as much.

Instead, Steve grabs the lube once more, acutely aware of you watching him with eyes round as saucers as he squirts a generous amount of it on his dick. He looks back at you, lying deathly still underneath him, looking like you’ve seen a ghost. He wonders if your pussy’s still tingling from the two orgasms he’s just given you, and he absentmindedly pumps his dick at the thought. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this turned on before in his life, his dick so hard he feels he’ll blow his load right there and then.

He lines his cock up against your entrance, his hands holding your silky soft thighs apart. A part of him wishes you’d fight back just one more time, just so he could exert his dominance over you once more, just so it would highlight how weak and small you are. But you lay there, quivering in fear, definitely too scared to fight back, or too distracted by his dick he glides it up and down your wet slit in anticipation.

Suddenly, you grab his arm as if to stop him, and Steve narrows his eyes.

“W-Will it hurt?” You ask softly.

“Yes.”

You whimper, your grip on his arm tightening as another tear trickles down your cheek, and you look up at him with desperate eyes.

“Please, Captain, p-please could you… could you make it hurt less? Please?” You beg him so prettily, and he can’t help but focus on how your tears get caught in your lashes, and how you sniffle like a baby. “Please, I’m sc-scared, I– maybe if you were slow–?”

“It’s going to hurt no matter what,” Steve says briskly, feeling impatient beyond belief, and yet a part of him wants to brush and collect your tears. “In fact, if I go in slowly, it’ll hurt more.” He wonders if he should say more, say anything at all to ease your discomfort. But he reasons that that’s not his job – he’s not a lovesick boyfriend who needs to worry about your feelings. This is for him. He deserves this.

You start crying softly once more, your whole body shaking. Steve tries to ignore it, focusing on your cunt instead. His dick is twitching with excitement, the tip an angry red as he brings it up against your fuckhole. He grits his teeth and pushes in, but he can’t. You’re too tight – and he’s way too big. He sighs in frustration.

“Stop being so tense.” He orders you, pouring another decent amount of lube all over his cock as well as your entrance. He’d scissored you open with three of his fingers, but it had been an extremely tight fit. And three of his fingers didn’t compare to the girth and thickness of his dick – not even the tip of it. He frowns down at you, “You need to relax. It’ll hurt less if you relax.”

A panicked look flits over your face as you look down at his dick, and he knows you’re intimidated by his size. But then you take a deep breath, close your eyes and he feels your body get less tense underneath him. He smirks.

He grabs his cock by the base and lines it up against your hole once more. You flinch away from him, your innocent, puppy dog eyes blinking up at him. He doesn’t give a fuck though, and with a lot more determination this time, he grits his teeth and forces his way inside you.

Your scream is earth-shattering. But it’s music to his ears.

“NO, PLEASE, NO, TAKE IT OUT! TAKE IT OUT! TOO BIG!”

You thrash violently underneath him, limbs flailing before he pins them down. But for a handful of seconds, he can’t even really focus on you. Not when he’s finally basking in the glory of being inside your tight little snatch, and it feels almost euphoric. You feel so sexy around him, so hot and velvety, squeezing the life out of his fat cock. Well, he’s only got a bit more than his tip inside you, but it already feels fucking heavenly.

“Oh fuck,” Steve mutters under his breath, trying to get a grip and not get too lost in the feeling of your gorgeous fucking pussy. He hasn’t even fucked you yet, and yet he feels like his balls are about to blow with how fucking hot it feels being inside you like this.

“It hurts! T-Take it out, Captain! Please!” Your tiny hand grabs his forearm again, lips puckered so sweetly, even the grimace on your face looks beautiful. You’re beautiful when you’re in pain, and he’s addicted to the sight of it. For a split second, he imagines it’s his wedding night, and you’re his beautiful bride – sweet, innocent, beautiful bride and he’s just popped your cherry and now you’re his forever.

The thought makes him shudder, and he quickly pulls out (not that there’s much to pull out, since only his tip had entered you. You were crying and screaming just from being penetrated by only his tip, and this makes Steve smug, despite everything).

You’ve barely caught your breath when he drives his dick back inside you, and this time he really forces it in. Now that he’s got a taste of your warmth, he wants to be completely enveloped in it. His hands grab your hips tightly, forcing his fat cock inside you inch by inch. He doesn’t care if it takes all night, he was going to fully penetrate you if it was the last thing he did.

“Shhh, shut up and take it,” he orders you as you scream and protest. If any other one of his girls had screamed bloody murder the way you were doing right now, he would’ve smacked them unconscious. Not you though, and he doesn’t know why that is. “God fucking dammit, how is your pussy so fucking tight?”

“Y-You’re too big,” you answer, shaking your head over and over again, “th-this… this isn’t normal, Captain, y-you won’t fit! Please stop, something’s gonna break, I-I’m scared, I–”

He wants to break your pussy. He wants to break you.

“Shut up,” he snarls, before a thought occurs to him. Out of nowhere, he kisses you once more. Silencing your protests as his tongue works against yours, and he finds that he was already missing kissing you. God, you felt so good. Your warm, sexy lips against his and your warm, sexy pussy gripping his dick. God, fuck… So this is what great sex was, huh? Maybe he’d been fucking the wrong girls this whole time. Maybe he should’ve sought you out from the beginning – or someone like you. Someone young, innocent, unexperienced, delicate, fragile, a cry-baby. Just the complete opposite of him.

Despite everything, you kiss him back once more. Steve bets it’s because your girlish mind is trying to convince him (and yourself) that you’re a good kisser. He makes a mental note never to give you this reassurance – that way you’d just keep kissing him as if you had something to prove. Or at least that was the hope. Nevertheless, the kissing distracts you enough for him to still inside you (he’d only gotten less than a quarter of his huge dick in) and then he pulls out.

The third time he penetrates you, he does it with more force than ever before. And he bites your lip hard, grunting against you till he can taste your blood. That’s when he finally pushes more than halfway inside you, and he hears something rip from within. And you scream, you scream so fucking loudly and straight into his mouth, but he continues to kiss you, basking in the feeling of being inside you properly now. His dick feels so constricted inside your tight walls, but it’s the best feeling he’s ever felt.

He breaks the kiss to look down into your eyes, and savour your reaction to being impaled by him, to being filled up by only half his length. But your head lolls to the side, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

You’ve passed out.

“What a fucking baby,” Steve hisses, shallowly thrusting in and out of you. “Can’t even take daddy’s dick inside this tight little snatch of yours without passing out, can you?” Truthfully, he doesn’t even want to pull out, he’s so obsessed with how good your pulsating pussy feels around his dick. But he knows he needs to draw back so he can thrust back in even deeper. He’s only got half his dick inside you now, but he’s determined to get in balls deep before the night is over.

“Wake the fuck up!” he commands, wanting you alert as he defiles you. He slaps your cheek lightly several times, to no avail. He sighs, reaching for the glass of water on his side table. He dips his fingers into the liquid before sprinkling the water over your face. He slaps your cheek again, harder this time, and it turns him on when he hits you, taps into his darkest, most masochistic desires that he keeps under wraps from even himself.

It's only when he pulls out and slams back into you that you suddenly rouse, and it takes you a nanosecond to start screaming again, panicking and flailing underneath him once more. But he’s not having it this time, and quickly plasters his palm over your mouth to silence you.

“Tell me... how does daddy’s dick feel?” He asks you darkly, and he can sense the sadistic smile on his face fuelled by the sheer power he has over you right now. “And I’ll backhand the fuck out of you if you start screaming again, so don’t even try it.”

He removes his hand from your mouth and focuses on pushing more into you, and you pant underneath him, silently sobbing and cringing in pain. And yet you swallow and look up at him bravely.

“I-It hurts!”

“Address me properly.”

“C-Captain, it hurts!”

He narrows his eyes, “No. I asked you how does daddy’s dick feel?”

Your jaw drops open, and it looks like you’ve momentarily forgotten that he’s currently trying to impale you with his huge dick. Your face has the audacity to look mortified, and he wonders how innocent you truly are.

“I can’t… I can’t call you… That’s wrong!” you sputter, looking almost – dare Steve think it – cute. With your wide eyes and indignant gaze and delicious pouty lips in the shape of an o. You seem to blurt out your next words without even thinking: “Y-You’re not my dad!”

Steve barks out a laugh before he can stop himself, but he straightens his face almost immediately, reaching up to grip your chin harshly between his thumb and forefinger. Faced with your horror-struck reaction to calling him daddy, he now wants you to address him as that and nothing else.

“Listen, sweetheart. You may have noticed by now that you don’t get much of a say in what happens to you tonight,” he licks up your jawline before his lips brush against your mouth, and he speaks in a whisper, “Now answer my question. And address me properly. Or else.”

You look mortified, scrunching your eyes shut as you breath rapidly in and out. “It… It hurts…daddy.”

Steve feels like he’ll bust a nut right there and then. He doesn’t think he’s ever been more turned on. You’re so small and shy, so tiny and naïve and scared like a baby, and now you’re calling him daddy in that sexy, shaky voice of yours. Goddamn, what a sexy little slut you were. And he’d take care of you tonight, just like any daddy would. Oh… damn right he’d be your daddy tonight. God fucking dammit, you were such a little slut for calling him that!

With a renewed, carnal type of lust, Steve grabs your legs and hoists them over his shoulders. You yelp as he folds you in half like a goddamned pretzel. And the juxtaposition, the visual of your naked body underneath him still in his bloodied suit from the mission – God, it turns him on so much. He presses another kiss to your lips, guiding you into making out with him, wanting you to get obsessed with the idea of kissing him. And then he pulls away, and looks you right in the eye.

“Now you can scream.”

“Huh?”

He slams into you so fucking hard, he’s sure you see stars. And if you were screaming loudly before, it’s nothing compared to now. His entire floor is sound-proofed, but he’s sure the people above and below can hear you. He’s pushed himself far deeper into you, so deep that he senses something rip inside you again. And you’re crying, your little fists pounding against his chest, and yet Steve grits his teeth and mutters, “take it, just fucking take it,” pushing into you bit by bit, inch by inch, so determined to finally get his cock all the way inside you. Pulling out a bit, then pushing in some more while your tight walls try to push him out but he’s so much fucking stronger than you.

A deep rumble emanates past his lips when he finally – fucking finally – bottoms out inside you, and he leans down to press his forehead over yours so he can savour the moment. You were his, completely, irrevocably, undeniably his. You whimper and cry underneath him but it’s music to his ears, your sweet reaction to him popping your cherry, completely snatching away your virginity and possessing it as his forever. He looks down to where you two meet, sees your pussy stretched out completely around his girthy dick, and it makes him want to spontaneously combust.

“You’re mine.” Steve breathes against your lips, and for the second time tonight, the image of you as his little bride flits through his mind. Yes, you’d make a very fitting bride for him. Small and submissive and innocent. And he’d never taken marriage seriously before now but… well, how could he give you up? When he’d taken your virginity and made you his? How could he possibly send you back to wherever you’d come from? The mere thought fills him with vitriolic rage. No. You were to stay with Steve, and you’d be his bride. His wife. His. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

You don’t argue this time, or even hesitate. He knows he’s broken you when you look up at him, dazed expression on your face. “I’m – I’m yours, daddy.”

Fuck. And you’d gone and called him daddy again without him even having to prompt you. Yes. That more than sealed your fate. You would be his now. His girl. His wife. He’d keep you locked up in his room forever, the same reward that he’d look forward to coming home to after every mission.

“How does it feel to have your baby pussy split open on my cock, sweetheart?” He presses kisses down the nape of your neck, excitement rippling through him at his impulsive decision to make you his wife. The thrill of finding a bride as cute as you makes him want to kiss you even more, and he nips at your neck before reaching your lips, pecking them once, twice, three times. All while you look up at him with glassy, wet eyes and a pitiful expression mixed with something else.

“Please,” you breathe quietly against his lips, and with sapped energy you manage to grab a fistful of his suit, pulling it to get his attention, “Please, make it hurt less. Please.”

Steve smirks, pulling out of you and preparing to slam back in. But he grows distracted by the sight of his cock, completely coated scarlet with your blood. Your virgin blood. The pillow under your ass is stained with drops of dark crimson too, and he’s never seen anything like it. Fuck. He’d really done a number on you, hadn’t he? And he hadn’t even begun fucking you yet.

I deserve this, he thinks to himself.

He slams into you again, the gasp dying in your mouth when he grabs you by the chin and forces you to look down at where you two meet. Your eyes grow wider, your mouth dropping open as you shake your head in disbelief at the sight of your pussy so stretched out to accommodate his girth.

“What’re those conservative parents of yours gonna think when they find out their good little girl just got her pussy ripped apart by a man twice her age?”

You swallow and shake your head, “I–I…”

“Answer me!”

“They’d be d-d-disappointed!” You cry out, ripping your gaze away from the sight of his dick penetrating your formerly virgin pussy, instead looking up at him instead, your mouth looking so deliciously pouty.

Steve smiles wickedly, “It’s a good thing you’re not their little girl anymore, huh? You’re mine now, so their opinion doesn’t matter.”

“Th-They like you! They’re fans of you… They wouldn’t like this at all! OH MY GOD!” You gasp, and he has to hold you down to keep you from sliding upwards from the power of his thrusts. You cry out once more, “W-Was supposed to – ah! – wait till I was married…”

The mention of marriage has Steve imagining you as his little bride once more. He already owned your body, mind and soul – but the marriage certificate would make sure he owned you under the eyes of the law too. His kept woman you’d be, fluttering around his apartment like a bird in a gilded cage. Or maybe he’d move you into one of the suburban properties he owned, where he could come home to you and relieve all his tension and worries. Yes. It would be perfect. He’d make all the arrangements tomorrow…

For now, he focuses back on fucking you silly. Pulling out all the way, he rams his dick straight back into your cunt, and you let out a sound that’s a mix between a squeak and a moan. He looks down at you curiously.

“You like that? You like daddy’s big dick?” He grabs your hands, squeezing them tightly.

“T-Too big!” Your eyes flutter shut as if you’re about to pass out again. “C-Captain, please slow down! H-Hurts so bad!”

Steve bristles. Hadn’t he explicitly told you to call him daddy? After all, he’d be your daddy now. You wouldn’t be your father’s property after tonight. No, you were Steve’s. He was your daddy, and he’d take care of you because you’d soon become his bride. But he wouldn’t have an insolent, insubordinate wife who couldn’t take instructions well. That wouldn’t do at all.

He grunts, letting go of your hands and wrapping his fingers around your throat instead. You squeal in protest but it lands on deaf ears. His other hand presses down over your mouth once more.

“Shut up!” He snaps, “Stop squealing like a little bitch. It hurts but you’re just going to have to take it. And you better start calling me daddy, or else I’ll drag you back downstairs and fuck you in front of everyone.” He only means it as a threat, but he knows by the way your breath hitches that you’re innocent enough to believe him.

He removes his hand from your lips and taps you roughly on your cheek, “Tell me you understand.”

You nod, receiving a harder tap on your cheek and a menacing look.

“I-I understand, daddy, I – oh – oh my!”

He thrusts into you with such force, he knows you’re seeing stars. And it’s subtle, but Steve catches it. He catches the shift in your expression, this unfamiliar spark in your eye as if you don’t know what’s happening with your body. But Steve knows. Your body is finally starting to respond to his cruel ministrations – just like he knew you would. You were an innocent little baby but you were also a horny little slut who was enjoying getting fucked by a man like him.

“It’s starting to feel good, huh?” Steve whispers against your lips, imagining the different ways he’d take you for the rest of the night. Of course, you’d probably pass out again once he was done with this first round. But after that? Maybe he’d put you on top of him, bounce you up and down on his cock and get in even deeper that way. Or he’d make you suck his cock, or maybe he’d manhandle you till you were on his face, rubbing that sweet, gorgeous little baby cunt on his –

“I-I don’t understand!” You cry, and he feels you wiggle your hips subtly as if you’re trying to do it without him noticing, “Feels…feels…oh, oh god!” With abandon, your head lolls back and you rut your hips up against his dick, meeting his thrusts. Steve chuckles, a satisfied feeling spreading across his chest.

“All that crying and screaming, just for you to enjoy getting fucked by me,” Steve murmurs, brushing your hair off your face so he can gauge your expression better. You look so pitiful, biting your lip and looking up at him with wet eyes, humping up against his dick and your eyes reflecting the confusion you felt. “But don’t worry, all little girls like you love getting fucked by their daddy. It’s only natural, sweetheart.”

“D-Daddy, please,” you pant, and now your hands come up to grip a fistful of his suit, and he knows that you don’t even understand the pleasure you’re slowly starting to feel. And you’re gripping his cock so tight as he rams in and out of you, building up a steady pace now. He knows he’s found your g-spot and he’s pounding against it, but you have no fucking clue and it’s the hottest fucking thing ever.

“Look at you, humping your baby pussy up against daddy’s dick,” Steve shakes his head as if he’s reprimanding you. He spits down on your face, wanting you even messier. His hand leaves your throat as he shoves two of his fingers past your lips, spreading them open and spitting again. His saliva lands on your tongue, “Swallow it, you nasty fucking slut. I knew I’d make you my little slut before the night was through. I said fucking swallow it. That’s right. Good girl.”

“Ah, ah, ah– tingles… I – daddy! P-Please, I don’t know what’s – AH!”

Your breathless moans and nonsensical garbles are like music to his ears, but nothing compares to the way you clamp down on his cock when you suddenly squirt around it. The way you squeak and clutch him tightly, and he fucks you through your orgasm. Your very first orgasm while getting fucked, and it’s so fucking sexy the way your tight walls flutter around him. God, he could get used to this feeling – buried deep inside your wet, tight snatch every single night from here on out.

“Did daddy make you feel good?” He breathes, hips moving like a jackhammer, his balls slapping against your pussy as he continues to fuck you.

You nod timidly, wiped out from your orgasm to say anything else. He smirks, watching your breasts bounce up and down as he fucks the living daylights out of you and you just lie there beneath him and take it. As if a part of you had understood that this was to be your job from here on out – his little fuckdoll, his little prize after God knows how many listless years of saving the world, saving people who he didn’t give a flying fuck about.

He’d won countless medals of honour, rewarding him for his bravery in serving his country, in saving his people. But you were his true prize, with your tight cunt that was his and his only. And how jealous every other man would be! He knew they already envied his physique, his fame, his authority. Now all those assholes would have another reason to envy him – because his little bride was the most innocent, most vulnerable, most beautiful girl they’d ever lay their eyes on. And it would be his bed in which you’d be, night after night, waiting with spread legs for him to fuck you.

Of course, he’d fuck other women if he so wanted to. Steve didn’t believe in love or monogamy. He believed in ownership, though. And he owned you, every part of you from your cunt to your soul. You wouldn’t even look at another man ever again, or else Steve would have you killed. And the thought of you with another man is what incenses him even more.

With a low growl, he pulls out of you. Your eyes shoot open, your mouth pausing mid-moan to look up at him desperately. Your cunt shamelessly humps the air, and he can’t believe what a little harlot you’ve turned into after your first taste of sex. He looks down at his blood-covered dick, grabbing it by the base. He lays his fat cock on your stomach, painting your smooth skin scarlet with your own virginal blood. The sight turns him on even more, and with another growl, he puts your legs down and flips you over on your stomach.

He grabs your ankle, dragging you to the foot of the bed while you squeak in protest and confusion. He gets off the bed, standing up to his full height as you cower beneath him, looking back at him over your shoulder warily, a trail of blood on the sheets from where he’d dragged you.

“Hands and knees,” he orders, “and don’t fucking make me repeat myself.”

This time, you do obey pretty quickly. Mustering up whatever energy you have left, you shakily get on your hands and knees. He grabs your hips just in time, keeping you upright before your body has a chance to collapse. Your legs are shaking and he knows your body can’t take much more. He doesn’t care, because he owns your body and you’ll take what he gives you.

“Nice ass,” he smirks, squeezing and kneading your ass cheeks liberally before giving your ass a hard smack that has your knees buckling. He hoists you back up by your hips, “Thank me for the compliment, sweetheart.”

“Th-Thank you, daddy.” You answer almost at once, and Steve grins wolfishly. He’s broken you. He bets you’d do just about anything to please him now. He bets you’ve forgotten about your life back home, and all your tiny mind can think about now is your daddy and his big cock.

With a grunt, Steve pistons his fat cock inside you once more. And god, from this angle, with your gorgeous, perky ass right in his fucking face, he feels like he’s going to blow his load any second. You start moaning again, rocking your hips backwards, garbling “please” and “daddy” and other nonsense. Your ass bounces with each thrust, and Steve can’t help but slap it brutally hard, over and over again, wanting you even more bruised and bloody than you already are right now.

“You like it rough, don’t you?” he asks, slapping and pinching your ass while he watches his dick disappear inside your sexy cunt over and over again, “you tried to act all innocent and cute, telling me you had fucking homework to do tonight, fuck!” He lifts your hips up off the bed to get a better angle, till he’s holding your entire lower body up in the air. It gives him better leverage, since he’s so tall, and he fucks you on his dick like you were nothing more than a fleshlight.

“I – ah, daddy! – I d-do have h-h-homework – OH MY GOD!”

It just gets Steve even harder, hearing you be so innocent despite being held up and fucked like a dog. You’ve got your elbows propped on the mattress to keep you up, your legs flailing helplessly as he holds your hips in the air, ramming you repeatedly with his fat cock till he knows you’re seeing stars.

“Forget about your fucking homework from now on,” he spits out, grabbing your ass lewdly and jiggling it, fascinated by how it bounces so cutely. “There’s no way I’m letting you go back to that college of yours.”

“Wh-What?”

He doesn’t answer, and the room is filled with sounds of skin slapping against skin, the carnal sound of Steve staking his claim on you. With all his other rewards, he’d be done in about fifteen minutes. You, he’d have you all night if he could. Well, he can – he’s built like a fucking tank with stamina for days. You, on the other hand, keep looking like you’re going to pass out and he’s pretty sure he’s done some type of damage to your pussy. He’d have SHIELD’s physician check you tomorrow.

He throws you back down on the bed, not giving you a chance to even catch your breath before he’s on top of you, flipping you on your back and urgently pressing his lips to yours. Much to his smugness, this time you respond as if it’s muscle memory, kissing him back as best as you can. And for a person who’s just learnt how to kiss, you sure were extremely desperate for it. You keep kissing him even when he enters back into you for the third time, fucking you on your back and this time you wrap your arms and legs around him like a goddamned koala bear, your kisses growing more fervent till Steve pulls away and chuckles against your lips.

“You like kissing me?” He finds himself asking you, holding you in place beneath him as he fucks you hard, but his one hand comes up to grip your chin so you don’t look away, “be honest, baby. You like kissing daddy?”

Your eyes widen in fear at the direct question, and he watches the panic on your face. But then your features contort in pleasure as he repeatedly hits that spot deep inside you, and you nod desperately, surging up to kiss him again but he pushes you back down.

“Use your words.”

“Ah, y-yes, I do, okay!? I like it! P-Please!”

You start doing that thing again, humping pathetically up into him as if to meet his thrusts. And he wonders if you realise how easy he’s truly going on you. He reckons he’s using about five percent of his power right now as he rams into you repeatedly. Any more than that and he’s sure he’d shatter your pelvis or cause permanent damage.

“Kiss me, then.” Steve says, not knowing why he sounds so gentle. He probably had something stuck in his throat, but he doesn’t dwell over it because, like a good little girl, you obey him. Your needy lips, your desperate tongue poking against his in a perfect kiss. He groans into your mouth, his thrusts going sloppy as your cunt squeezes around him because you’re so turned on by him kissing you.

“Am I… A-Am I doing this right, daddy?” You breathe, batting those fucking sexy, innocent eyes up at him.

Steve smirks, “You’re fine.”

You’re more than fine, of course – but he doesn’t need you knowing that. He needs you to be as insecure as possible. It made you even hotter, the look of self-doubt that you have on your face right now. He’s violated your body, he’s still violating your body, and yet all you seem to be focusing on is the fact that he thinks your kissing is “fine.” Not good, not great… but fine.

You kiss him once more, even more desperately this time, as if you’re trying to prove something. Steve relishes how easy it is to play with your mind, how naïve you are. How much he’ll enjoy playing with you when he makes you his wife. He continues pistoning his dick inside you as he lets his mind wander.

All the others would be so fucking jealous of him – even Bucky, who had a girl already but Bucky’s girl was nothing compared to you. He’d drag you around the whole building, the whole headquarters, the whole compound, showing you off like a shiny, new toy. That’s what you were – his very own toy.

He’d take you into meetings with him, make you sit on his lap and play with you in front of everyone. And he’d chop the dick off of anyone who looked at you in a way he didn’t like. He’d make you wear pretty dresses, make you look like a cute little housewife, train you to answer his every command. Fuck yeah, you’d be his reward. He deserved you, after all he had sacrificed for his country, for the world.

“D-Daddy, I’m feelin- tingly again!” you moan, your words shaky from how hard he’s fucking into you. Your legs wrap tighter around his waist and in return he clutches you harder, determined to make you squirt again before he had his own release.

“Oh yeah? What does it feel like?”

“D-Daddy – nngh…ah, I–I–”

He swats your clit harshly, making you howl in what he knows is pleasure. His dick hammers in and out of you unforgivingly, and you’re such a fucking slut, humping up against him, crying for your release. And it’s such a far cry from how much you were resisting him at first, he can’t believe what a little slut he’s reduced you to in such little time.

“Stupid girl, can’t even talk anymore, can you?” he mocks, pinching your clit meanly, bullying it as he rubs it fiercely. Till you’re thrashing underneath him, so desperate to cum that you don’t even care that your body is betraying you. “Tell me you’re a stupid little girl!”

“Oh fuck! I’m a – a – a stupid little girl!”

He can see the remnants of your tears stained to your cheeks, and he feels a carnal level of possession within him. With a growl, he lewdly licks the side of your face, claiming his territory, tasting your salty tears. Roughly, he tugs your hair, pulling your head to the side and biting down on your neck. So hard that he draws blood, and then he licks that up too. God, what a little slut you were – a slut disguised as an angel and you were making him act like a motherfucking animal.

And now the side of your neck sported his bite mark, your porcelain perfect skin marred by his branding of you. And this was just the beginning – Steve already knows that he plans to mark you in many different ways. Tomorrow, he’d get one of the agents to bring over a tattoo artist to tattoo his initials somewhere on your body. Maybe right above your baby cunt, just so you would always remember who you belonged to. He smirks, and wonders what your conservative parents would think of that.

“What would your parents think now, sweetheart?” He asks, grabbing one of your legs and hoisting it over his shoulder for a better angle. And you’re so pliable, so easily going along with whatever he’s doing to you like a perfect little doll. “What would they think of their perfect little girl getting fucked by Captain America like it’s her fucking job?”

You panic, as if the mention of your parents is a reminder of how wrong this all is for you – not that Steve gives a fuck. Biting your lip to keep from moaning at all the sensations you’re feeling, you shake your head. Only for him to slap you not so lightly on the cheek.

“Answer me, baby girl.”

“They’d – ah – they’d hate this, they’d be upset, they’d – OH FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!” You scream out all of a sudden, your pussy walls gripping him like a vice, “O-Oh, I’m feelin– I gotta–”

“Hold it.” Steve hisses warningly.

But you don’t. Of course, you don’t. Babies like you couldn’t hold orgasms for shit. And you cum, crying for him and gripping him tightly, and Steve feels like he’s going to lose it with how sexy it feels. It feels like your cunt is trying to swallow him up, crying for his seed as it pulsates around his fat cock that continues to move in and out.

“Bad girl,” Steve chastises, giving you another not-so-gentle slap on the cheek because you look like you’re about to faint again. He jostles you with the forces of his dick, still ramming in and out of you at lightning speed. “You do things without permission a lot at home?”

You have the audacity to, despite everything, look indignant: “N-No, never, I never–”

“Then what made you think you could cum without your daddy’s permission?”

Your lips purse as if you’re about to cry, and you blink up at him so goddamned innocent. Steve’s honestly surprised he’s still going, surprised he hasn’t busted a fucking nut with how goddamned cute and sexy you are.

“I’m…I’m sorry, I couldn’t – ah! – I had to, I–I–”

“Give me another one,” he orders you darkly.

“Wh-What–”

“You heard me. Cum for daddy again. Since you like doing it so much.”

Frantically, you shake your head, “C-Can’t! Too much, daddy, it’s too much– O-O-HHH GOD!”

He reaches down to strum your clit before a dark thought crosses his mind. His fingers slip lower, gathering the wetness of your pussy along the way. Lower, between the cleft of your ass cheeks. He can’t resist giving one of your perky cheeks a hard smack, before going straight for your puckered hole. He circles it with his thumb and your body stiffens in shock and horror.

“N-No, daddy, no please, that’s wrong, that’s–”

Steve shoves his finger in your tight, virgin asshole. He hadn’t been planning on defiling that third hole tonight, but oh well. And it’s even tighter than your pussy, and you clench against his digit like a fucking whore because he knows you like it. You like your daddy’s finger up there. His fucked up little wife-to-be… God, you were so perfect for him.

With his fat cock, Steve fucks your pussy and at the same time, his huge finger fucks your tiny ass. Pumping in and out of your tiny hole while you cry and yet once more you slowly begin humping up against him. As if the depravity of it all turned you on even more – which he knew it did.

Your hand tugs at his bicep, making him shift his gaze back up to you.

“It’s happening again, daddy, it’s– d-don’t stop, I–”

Steve licks his lips, “Say you’ll marry me.”

Your eyes widen the most they have all night, “Wh-What?!”

“Say it!” He orders, “Say it or else I’ll fucking stop and leave you hanging. Say you’ll marry me, be my wife and do whatever the fuck I tell you to do.”

“N-No, I–”

He stills his hips, only for you to shake your head and grip his arm harder in desperation, humping up against him hopelessly.

“Say it. Say you’re daddy’s little bride. Fucking say it.”

“I-I’m daddy’s little bride, okay? I’ll do it, daddy, I’ll marry you, I – OH FUCK, PLEASE – I’ll do whatever you say, I, just please, I–” You’ve lost it, completely lost it as new tears swell from your eyes and you beg him as if you have no shame at all. And Steve feels all the pride and smugness in the world as he resumes fucking you, knowing he won’t last any longer after this carnal display of submission from you.

“Cum.” He orders you, “right now, sweetheart, do what I say and cum for daddy.”

You squirt so violently around his cock, that your whole body shakes and shudders, you’re so overwhelmed by pleasure. Toes curled and tears streaking your face, you hold him so tightly that he’s surprised by your strength, and you keep moaning his name, you keep moaning “daddy” over and over again as if he got his agents to reprogramme your brain and it’s all you know how to say now.

“That’s right, baby girl,” he mutters lowly, “squeeze that pretty little princess cunt around daddy’s dick. You’re such a good fucking girl.”

“Th-Thank you, daddy,” your meek response, barely audible by how quietly you say it, is not something he expected, and it goes straight to his dick. Not you, not his little bride, thanking him for deflowering you in the most brutal way possible? Fuck, he’d broken you. You’d be licking the palm of his hand by tomorrow; he just knew it.

The thought makes him shudder, his dick twitches and then he unloads inside you. Spurt after spurt unloaded straight into your pussy, and it’s such a satisfying feeling, pumping you full of his seed. Filling you the fuck up, and he’s glad he didn’t use the fucking condom. And there’s so much of his cum, because of the serum of course, so much that it doesn’t even fit inside you. It pours out of you and you watch with wide eyes before letting out a soft cry.

“I’m not… I’m not protected, I don’t take birth control, I–I…” Your voice trails off, too weak to voice any more protestations as Steve continues to empty himself inside you, your words having no effect on him whatsoever.

“Good. You’d be lucky to carry my child.” Steve informs you, his cock already thickening again at the thought of him knocking you up. He’d never had an interest in having children before now, but fucking a whole family into you seems like the hottest fucking thing he could do right now. Captain America: the family man. It made sense for his image.

Your protests fall on deaf ears, and he remains inside you, till he’s finally emptied out and your poor, raw pussy is overflowing with his cum. But he stays on top of you, propped up on his elbows as he watches you underneath him. Your chest rising and falling as you breathe, and you’re so pretty, and he can’t help but lean down to kiss you again. Once, twice, three times. He frowns when you don’t kiss him back, drawing back to take another look at you.

Your eyes have fluttered shut. Your body couldn’t take it. You’ve passed out once more.

Steve smirks, feeling himself hardening up again inside you. He had absolutely no qualms with fucking you back to consciousness again.

***

It’s gone past midnight when Steve hears a knock on his door. He calls for them to come in, and two SHIELD agents appear in his doorway. The same two who always come to take away his rewards after he’s done with them.

The female agent’s jaw twitches at the sight. Steve on the bed, having changed and washed up with a quick shower. And you’re next to him, passed out on the bloodied sheets. Steve reckons you look beautiful, like you’re sleeping.

“Would you like for us to take her away, Captain?” The male agent asks.

“No. She will stay with me. Contact her family and let them know, make them pack a bag for her and make sure it arrives here by tomorrow.”

The male agent nods, but the female – it’s always the damned females, Steve scorns – she hesitates.

“Captain, she looks like she’s in bad shape. Maybe–”

“That will be all.” Steve interrupts, “you can leave now.”

They do, and Steve turns his attentions back to you – his little girl, as you begin to stir.

“Shhh,” he orders, when you open your mouth to speak. Your eyes look bleary, you look confused, wondering whether all this was a dream or not. Steve’s in no mood to indulge you, and yet he presses his thumb past your lips. And fuck, it goes straight to his dick when you readily accept it, sucking his thumb like a baby as you blink up at him.

His beautiful, broken little bride.

“Go back to sleep.” Steve tells you, “Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day for us. You need all the rest you can get.”

Yes, tomorrow. When he’d parade you around his teammates as Captain America’s little bride. It would be perfect. His forever reward.

Tony had his alcohol, Sam had his parties, Bruce had his research and Bucky had some girl. But Steve? Steve had drawn the best cards out of all of them. Because he had you. Your submission, your devotion. You.

He deserved this.

AKFSLA THE END!! Steve's inner monologue was unhinged af. I know! Please, please let me know what you think!!! It would mean the world, please do reblog and leave feedback!!! I have been writing this for around two weeks and would love to know what you think!!! As usual, thanks so much for reading my work and supporting me!!! I love you guys!! SORRY IF IT SUCKED ASDAGNL.

ALSO please forgive me if i got anything wrong about shield or hydra or any of that. like i literally am not an expert asnglagl okaybye!!!

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #chris evans #dark steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #chris evans fanfiction

6K notes · View notes

ellemj · 5 months

Text

Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 1

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: When you're both exposed to an unknown chemical in the field, things go from bad to worse.

Warnings: prelude to obvious smut, talk of masturbation, talk of unprotected sex, profanity, use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires more warnings.

Word Count: 2.8k

Author's Note: Just messing around on here and seeing where I end up. I want to write an absolutely filthy part 2 but if this doesn't get anywhere I may scrap it lmao.

Every. Damn. Time. Something goes sideways every damn time. You want to blame Fury for making the two of you partners to begin with. What the hell did he see between the two of you that made him think missions would ever end in anything other than the two of you butting heads? You sigh deeply and rub your temples with the pads of your left thumb and middle finger, squeezing your eyes shut as you will yourself not to kick Bucky clear across the lab. You know what Fury saw between the two of you, and as much as you hate to admit it, when you’re in absolute life-or-death situations, you and Bucky work together better than any other partner you’ve ever had in the field. Even Nat.

Dropping your hand from your face and opening your eyes, your gaze lands on Bucky. He stands at one of the lab benchtops in the center of the room, his eyes narrowing as he examines an array of monitor screens before him. You can make out an organized table of data along with a few charts on the monitor to his left, but that’s not what draws your attention. The second monitor, the one right in front of him, displays a few words that have you on edge.

Confirmed nitric oxide stimulant capabilities. New formula contains increased quantity of aqueous extract of dried tuberous roots of C. borivilianum.

Shit. This can’t be what you think it is, but with your medical background and your old medical microbiology classes from before joining SHIELD and the Avengers, you know that there’s a very slim chance that you’re misinterpreting what you’re reading. You step forward now, gently pushing Bucky’s arm to move him away from the monitors so you can get a better look at the data. He begins snapping pictures and immediately sending them back to the team. You can feel his eyes on you as you study the graphs and tables. He’s not used to you being this quiet, he knows something’s up.

“What are we looking at?” He finally speaks up, his gaze drawn to the colorful graph displayed on one of the monitors.

“I don’t know.” You lie straight through your teeth, reaching for the keyboard that controls the monitors. You press the right-facing arrow key and the page that said something about nitric oxide disappears, quickly replaced being replaced by a row of video clips, each one titled with a trial number and date. It looks like HYDRA was running trials in this experiment for months.

“Bullshit. Why won’t you tell me what it is?” Bucky asks. His tone is sharp, impatient. He isn’t used to being the one who doesn’t know what’s going on, and it’s bothering him. He gnaws on the inside of his cheek and waits in silence for you to say something, to say anything. You hover the cursor over the first video clip, dated three months ago from today, Trial #1. Everything in you is screaming not to watch it, not to click on it and confirm your suspicions, but you’re here for a reason. You have an easy job here today: break into the HYDRA facility, collect samples and any data that goes along with what they’ve been working on for the past few months, and then destroy the facility on your way out. Sam and Torres planned it out so perfectly, making sure it would be vacant for the next 13 hours so you and Bucky could slip in and get the job done under the radar. They planned it for two months, doing recon and coming up with contingency plan after contingency plan. You need to confirm your suspicions and get as much evidence as possible before blowing the place to bits.

You glance over your shoulder at Bucky, and his blue eyes meet yours with a hint of concern. He hates when you’re quiet like this, he hates those rare moments in the field when he can’t read your mind. What the hell are you thinking? What aren’t you telling him? He knows you well enough to know that you’re nervous about whatever you’re seeing here.

You click the video link and a slightly grainy image of a padded square room fills the screen. The floor and walls are gray and there isn’t any furniture in the room, only what looks to be a set of shackles on the back wall. A shiver runs down your spine and you pull your phone out, typing up a message to Bruce Banner while you wait for something to happen on screen.

You: A chemical compound that stimulates NO and uses aqueous extract of C. borivilianum…is it going to be what I think it is?

As your message sends, Bucky reaches around you, his chest brushing against your back, and he uses the mouse to fast forward the video until people are appearing on screen. You watch as presumably a HYDRA agent shoves a woman into the room, obviously an unwilling participant in the experiment. She doesn’t fight much as she’s placed in the shackles on the wall, but it’s obvious that she’s weak and likely drugged. The HYDRA agent briefly steps out of view of the camera, before returning with a second captive, a man this time. He’s large, muscular, and has a dark look in his eye. You feel Bucky stiffen up behind you, realizing at the same time as you that this man is a super soldier. Your phone vibrates in your hand and you steal a look at the response from Banner.

Banner: Yes.

Fuck. The next two minutes of the video are pure horror, even though nothing particularly horrific happens before you slam your hand down on the spacebar, pausing the clip abruptly. You both watched on as a cloudy vapor was pumped into the room through vents, and then watched on as the super soldier became more and more restless, sweaty, and crazed. As soon as the female captive began whimpering and pulling against her shackles, with her eyes trained on the super soldier a few feet to her left, you couldn’t let the video play any longer.

“Tell me what it is.” Bucky says evenly from behind you. You swallow hard and reach into one of the pockets of your tactical pants, pulling out a device similar to a USB and plugging it into the computer before you. As all of the data and video clips begin to transmit through the device, back to Sam and Torres, you turn around and face your partner.

“HYDRA hasn’t been able to recreate the super soldier serum. They haven’t made any progress at all since Zemo killed Dr. Nagel.” You say slowly, choosing your tone and words carefully. You don’t want to say too much and leave Bucky as terrified as you are right now, but you also know you can’t keep this from him. Not when you need him to understand how fucking careful you’re both going to have to be from now until the end of this mission.

“I know that. What are we here for, y/n?” His tone is growing more and more impatient, his jaw ticking as he stares down at you. God, he can’t ever just shut up and listen. You put your hand on his chest, shoving him a few steps back and walking across the lab, to the glass refrigerator in the far corner. It’s full of vials of a clear liquid, each sealed at the top and marked with a label full of scientific terms.

“They got desperate, and turned to even more barbaric methods of creating super soldiers. They started experimenting with chemical compounds that induce a primal need in those exposed.” You explain carefully. You pause now, turning to look back at Bucky once more. You see realization spread across his face and he quickly comes to understand what you’re saying. It’s a fucking sex pollen.

Static crackles in your in-ear briefly before Sam’s voice reaches you both.

“Banner and Stark just finished reviewing some of the data you shared. This is not something that either of you want to be exposed to.” Sam advises, and you can hear Torres in the background typing away on a keyboard.

“Yeah, no shit.” You mutter, retrieving a pair of nitrile gloves from a box on the benchtop nearby and setting up the small lockbox that you brought for samples. You open it to reveal a padded interior, with enough room for three vials. The rest will have to be destroyed.

“Just grab the samples, rig the place to blow, and get the hell out of there. I don’t want you in there any longer than you have to be.” Sam’s orders spur Bucky into action, and he starts setting up explosives around the corners of the lab while you get ready to retrieve the samples from the fridge. If only you’d known that HYDRA was one step ahead.

It happened so fast that you didn’t even have time to try to protect yourself. The moment that you pulled open the small door to the fridge full of samples, that same cloudy vapor you saw in the video clip began to rush in from every air vent in the lab.

“Shit.” You mumble, reaching into the fridge and grabbing three vials. You quickly place them into the lockbox and seal it, knowing that you’ll definitely need samples to test now that you’ve both been exposed.

“Sam, we’ve got a problem.” Bucky is as calm as ever, though his voice comes out slightly annoyed. Of course he’d sound annoyed in this moment. He’s been exposed to a sex pollen alongside the partner that he can only get along with when they’re staring death right in the face. He heaves a weighty sigh before stalking over to you and snatching the lockbox from the benchtop. He quickly slides his backpack off, shoving it inside, and then heading for the exit, without checking to see if you’re on his heels or not. You strip off your gloves and bound after him. The gravity of the situation hasn’t hit either of you yet, but oh, it will soon enough.

Bucky weaves his motorcycle in and out of traffic almost recklessly, with your arms clutched around his abdomen. It’s only been fifteen minutes since you were both exposed but you swear that you’re starting to feel the effects. Your cheeks are hot and flushed under your helmet, your hands are shaking as adrenaline courses through your veins, and your heart is racing. If you hadn’t been on the back of a motorcycle with Bucky so many times in the past, you would’ve chalked your symptoms up to this experience, but it’s definitely not that.

“Loosen up, are you trying to do the Heimlich on me or something?” Bucky spits out, his voice playing in your helmet. You do as he says, loosening your hold and taking a deep breath in. You don’t say anything in response, which furthers the tension between you both. It’s been fifteen minutes of stressful silence and Bucky’s losing his damn mind. He wants you to give him shit like you usually would when a mission goes sideways. He wants you to lash out, tell him to stop driving like an ass, he wants you to say anything so he knows you’re okay. He can’t fucking stand the silence.

He guides the bike down the long dirt road to the safe house you stayed in last night, and you hop off before he’s even put the kickstand down. He watches as you rush up the steps of the small cobblestone house, yanking off your helmet in one swift movement before you key the code into the door and force it open. You’re feeling the effects of the chemical pulsing through your veins, you’re feeling it and you’re trying to keep it from him.

“It’s a very complex compound. A nitric oxide stimulant, utilizing both natural and man-made components. It’s basically a super soldier version of Viagra and ecstasy all in one.” Bruce says, addressing both you and Bucky through the video call. Concern and stress are etched into his soft features as he stands in the lab of the Avengers compound, his arms crossed and glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. “You’re going to have to look out for the negative effects, which from the video clips of their experiments, are extremely strong. Take the side effects of ecstasy and multiply their intensity by a hundred.”

“So, sweating, hypertension and tachycardia, jaw pain…” Your voice trails off as you list off the side effects of ecstasy that you know from your previous pharmacology classes. Bruce nods slowly.

“Basically, you’ll feel like you’re having a heart attack, unless you’re able to relieve yourselves.” He summarizes.

“What do you mean relieve yourselves?” Bucky questions. He’s seated on the couch next to you, his brow is furrowed and a sheen of sweat is becoming apparent along the side of his neck. You try not to look at him for too long, already feeling yourself longing for touch and physical contact of any kind.

“If you’re able to achieve a postcoital state, you should have temporary relief of your symptoms. You might have to achieve that state more than once, until the chemical is out of your system.” You can almost hear the wheels turning in Bucky’s head as he works out what postcoital means. You have to reach an orgasm to feel any relief, but bless Banner for trying to put it in a more professional way.

“Have you tested the half-life of the chemical yet?” You ponder, wanting to know exactly how long you’ll both be suffering through this. You wipe a bead of sweat from your brow with the back of your hand.

“Yeah, it seems like it can last anywhere from eight to ten hours in a non-super soldier, but it was designed specifically to work in conjunction with the serum, so it lasts eight to twelve hours in a super soldier.” Bruce’s words are starting to jumble together in your head, adding to the slightly throbbing headache that’s forming behind your eyes. You squeeze them shut and rub your temples just like you did in the lab earlier, zoning out as Tony and Bruce both start discussing the pharmacokinetics behind the compound currently wrecking your body.

“What are our options here?” Bucky asks quietly, directing his question to you alone. You turn to look at him and see his cheeks flushed like yours now, his pupils dilated a minute amount, and his hands clasped together over his knees. There’s no hiding that it’s affecting you both now.

“I don’t know. The only thing I can think to do is lock ourselves in different rooms and try to ride it out.” You say, rubbing your aching thighs through your tactical pants with the palms of your hands. Your bones are starting to hurt in a deep, consuming way, and all you want to do is give yourself a few doses of propofol to knock yourself out for the next eight hours. It’s going to be hell trying to get through this without having sex, especially if pain is setting in only an hour after the initial exposure.

“Okay, so we do that. We each lock ourselves in a bedroom and fight it.” Bucky sounds sure and resolved, like he has total faith that your only plan available will work out fine. All it took to bring out his optimistic side was being doused with a sex pollen and stuck in a safe house.

“I want to monitor both of your vitals through the night.” Bruce calls out, gaining your attention again.

“No.” You and Bucky both speak firmly at the same time, quick to reject the idea. You don’t need a medical record showing how aroused you end up being tonight, you don’t need Bruce or any of the SHIELD lab staff watching your heart rate increase as you touch yourself, watching your blood pressure spike as you near your climax alone. Bucky is thinking the same thing, shit, his heart rate is probably already through the roof as it is, just from sitting next to you. He tries to focus on whatever else you, Bruce, and Tony are discussing but his jaw is clenched in pain and he’s fighting the urge to rip off his tactical suit right there. It feels like it’s fucking ninety degrees inside. The only thing he catches in the last bit of the conversation is from Tony.

“There’s a chance you won’t find any relief in an orgasm alone, Y/n. Bucky will, because his body won’t know the difference between finishing himself off vs. finishing inside of a fertile woman, but this compound is meant to make your reproductive system go into overdrive. You won’t feel relief until your body thinks it has a chance of reproducing, until semen is introduced into your system.”

“Fuck.” You inhale sharply, doubling over in pain both at Tony’s unfortunate conclusion and at the cramping sensation you’ve suddenly felt deep in your stomach. Fucking hell.

Next Part

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #sex pollen #the winter soldier #winter soldier #mcu #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel

3K notes · View notes

lokisgoodgirl · 2 months

Text

Be Mine [Loki x Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: A morning meeting has an unexpected twist. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Language. Smutty. Avenger!Loki x Female Reader. Questionable flirting techniques. (w/c 2.8k)

The muscle at the side of Loki’s jaw flexed. He swallowed; an achingly glacial bob of his Adam’s apple making you want to claw your eyes out.

For some inexplicable reason he had opted to wear full leathers to today’s briefing.

It was seven nineteen in the AM. Thor was sporting a muscle vest boasting not one but three stains of varying complexity and a pair of shorts which left little to the imagination. Scott was wearing his dressing gown.

The rest of the team hung off chairs and flopped on the table in various states of undress. Steve stood at the head of the room as usual; prim and fresh in a crisp button-down and perfectly creased chinos.

“So what we’re seeing here,” Steve said, turning to the group from the Powerpoint, “is an up-tick in biological experiments-”

His eyes narrowed while they roamed over the doodling, distracted and hungover band sprawled around the table. “Lang.” he snapped. “Close your legs; there are ladies present.’

Scott shuffled up his seat, drawing the dressing gown down over his knees while mumbling apologies. A low rumble of mirth circled the room, but Loki’s gaze never left the Captain’s.

The curve of his dark lashes swept upward, features set in performative rapture. Loki's facial expression hadn’t changed as the scene unfolded, but for a miniscule twitch of his lip. Usually the two of you would exchange a few eye rolls; a few knowing smiles during a particularly turgid monologue about shoe storage post-mission...but not today. Today he hadn't even looked at you.

Steve sighed. He extended a finger and pushed his retractable pointer down to a stub. Pacing to the table, he dropped his head, laying his palms flat. When he looked up, disappointed-dad energy was thick in his eyes. “Folks, this just won’t do.” he said.

Natasha’s sunglasses slid down her nose. Scott crossed his legs making the swivel chair knock into Wilson and waking him up. The Falcon’s arms flew wide on instinct, whacking Tony in the chest. “Jesus Christmas-” Tony snorted, blinking wildly. “It was a party.” Natasha drawled, pushing the sunglasses back in place with disdain. “Maybe if you’d stayed after the cake you’d have those tight panties of yours in less of a spick, Rogers.”

“That’s Captain Rogers.” he snapped. “We’re on the clock.” “Calm down, Rogers.” Tony said, cresting his fingers. He was remarkably chipper for a man with whipped cream crusted in his hairline. “You’re all sitting on my clock. Remember that.”

Steve flushed scarlet. His eyes narrowed as Tony’s smirk grew.

“All I’m saying is it’s a sorry day when Laufeyson is the star pupil. Look at him!” Steve said, gesturing incredulously at Loki who remained in position; back straight, chin up. But now, one eyebrow arched. “All of you lot in your skivvies and Laufeyson’s in full dress?” Steve shook his head. “I fail to see the humour, Rogers.” Loki said. “Why is it so surprising that I come to our daily summons dressed thus? Certainly I have never presented myself in a tragic towelling monstrosity like Lang here.” “There was that one time with the silk nightie.” Sam whispered to Scott. Scott covered his mouth.

“A silk robe.” Loki snapped.

“Usually you only bring out the Asgardian shit when you’re brown-nosing. Or when you’ve done something shifty.” Natasha said, propping her chin up with a fist. You bet her eyes are closed. Wanda nodded behind her Starbucks.

“Or trying to impress someone,” the witch said. Natasha waved a finger in agreement. “Sexually.” Wanda added.

Loki released a scandalised snort. “How dare you.” he said. Leather creaked against his biceps as he folded his arms.

Beneath the table, your thighs squeezed together. The only thing hotter than Loki in leather, was an indignant Loki in leather. You suddenly became very aware of your quickened breaths making the buttons of your blouse strain. The god’s eyes darted to the side, meeting yours. “What?” he snarled. “Nothing.” you squeaked, swallowing. An awkward silence hung in the room. The scent of stale vodka suddenly seemed very strong. Steve sighed.

“Let’s call it for this morning-” he said, immediately met with muted hisses of celebration around the table. He patted down the air. “Rescheduled for this afternoon. Thirteen-hundred sharp. Wear clothes.” Approval turned to whines and hushed curses as chairs were swivelled and aching bodies shifted. “Unbelievable.” Loki snarled under his breath.

You watched out the corner of your eye as he stood; the flat of his iron stomach inches from your face. The scent of rich leather filled your nostrils while Loki’s fingers nipped beneath the hem of his tunic, tugging it down. He flipped the length of his cape with a sniff. You saw it swirl around his boots briefly as he stepped towards the window, clasping his hands behind his back.

Taking your time, you picked up each piece of carefully laid stationary at your seat. One by one, the rest of the team left the room. Steve was last, his hand hovering on the door handle while he shot you a wary look. As a parting gift, he opened the door wider. “You didn’t stay late?” Loki’s voice was a thick hum in the growing silence. His tone, inscrutable. “Huh?” “At the party.” he said. “You didn’t stay late.”

This time it wasn’t a question. “I usually head off when Thor starts making passes at everyone. I didn’t see you. Were you there?” “He did that?” Loki bristled. “To you?” There was a pause. “To everyone.” you repeated quietly. Loki’s shoulders stiffened. His fingers twitched, thumb digging into one exposed palm behind his back. He was still staring out the window.

“I’ll see you later.” you said, nerves fluttering in your belly. The god’s hair shortened as his chin dipped. You wondered how it would feel to wind those dark strands through your fingers as you rode him. Wondered how the grunts and signs and pretty curses from his lips would sound wet in your ear.

“No.” Loki said. “Excuse me?” “No,” he repeated.

You steadied against the table-top with the pads of your fingertips. Small stars began to burst in your field of vision. “I think the leather looks goo-good,” you stammered. And you didn’t know why.

The thought of him barring the exit of enemies in far flung realms using only that voice barged through the doors of your imagination with the force of a horny caveman. If that was the last sarcastic quip they heard, by god, you imagined they may just have died happy. And hard.

“It looks good.” you repeated, no more than a whisper. Loki turned his head. The sharp profile came into view at a glacial pace. First the peaked tip of his chin, then the slant of his regal nose, then the harsh peak of his cheekbone, then his eyes. Your ass met the table-top with a stumble. There was a small crease between his eyebrows. “Bold of you to make another jest without your compatriots around you, Agent.” he said. Across the short distance between you, venom dripped from his tongue; his hackles raised. “I wasn’t joking,” you said quietly as his gaze fell to your feet with a sneer. The quick breaths that made your buttons strain were back. Loki’s rising stare lingered on your breasts, a small smile tweaking at the corner of his mouth. Words tripped from your lips, forcing their way from behind your teeth. “I like it.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed. He turned fully with a ceremonial flourish, the hands clasped behind his back moving to the front and rippling his leather and silken cloak. It fluttered.

“Is that so?” he purred darkly. He didn’t believe you.

You imagined how this is how a rabbit felt in the eyeline of a fox. To look away was to admit weakness, vulnerability. It meant death. And yet – it was the only chance to escape. But did you want to escape? Not really. You wanted to feel the sharp of his teeth fasten to your neck as he sucked and bit and made violent love to every inch of you.

You nodded, not breaking eye-contact. Loki inhaled sharply, chin tilting up as he did so.

His eyes wandered over grim foam tiles as though an enemy lurked beyond the suspended ceiling. They narrowed, darting back and forth. With a thundering heart, you noted one of his heavy boots rise from the floor. He paced forwards slowly, ceremonially, stopping inches from you. Your fingers curled tight around the table’s edge, the messy in your panties beneath the skirt becoming intolerable. Loki cleared his throat. “Am I to understand, contrary to common rhetoric, that you find my Asgardian leathers enticing; Agent?” “I think ‘enticing’ is a little grandiose, is it not?” you laughed, cringing at the way you so easily mirrored his speech. Loki noticed it too. He tilted his head. “I am nothing if not grandiose, Agent.” Loki said. “Am I not impressive? Am I not imposing?”

He trailed a long finger down your bicep, his touch light as a feather. “So often, you mortals use such words as insult.” he mused.

“It is merely a reflection on your own feelings of inferiority. This morning is a perfect example. An attempt at ridicule to deflect from their own pathetic presentation. Each one more bedraggled and an abject embarrassment to their purpose than the last.” Heat began to rise in your cheeks as his finger drifted along your collarbone. There was a pause, his eyes dropping to your lips before the finger brushed the skin at the hollow of your neck. It graced upwards, tracing the curve and stopping beneath the tip of your chin. “But not you.” he said.

The god’s eyes snapped to yours. His cheekbones hollowed under fluorescent lights, mischief glowing from the depths of his irises and painted in every light wrinkle on his brow.

“What else do you like, Agent?” he goaded softly. “Do you like the idea of what lies beneath these leathers?” You swallowed thickly. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Loki-” you said, glancing towards the open door. He followed your eyes, rolling his own. With a flick of his hand the door slammed shut. “I want you,” he breathed, leaning closer so that the heat of his cheek warmed your own, “to tell me what else you like.”

You bit your lip, watching his beautiful face come back into view. With a prang, the thought occurred that perhaps you were not the rabbit after all. Perhaps you were the fox. Loki’s gaze lingered on your face, searching it.

Emboldened, you found the words. “Why should I?”

His brows peaked softly. He released a muted sigh, pursing his lips. “As much as I am loathe to admit it, Romanoff was right.” he said. The hand tilting your chin upwards returned to its mate, clasped against the leather tunic. “I was trying to impress someone, but not that insufferable Rogers.”

He raised his eyebrows.

Excitement blossomed deep in your belly; rising like shaken soda and fizzing around your chest. Loki bit his bottom lip.

“You see, Agent, I like you very much. And I’m afraid that now it has reached the juncture where I must know if you like anything about me...beyond my exquisite taste in battle armour.”

The change in his demeanour was so dramatic that you could only gape. But when it came to Loki, could you expect anything less? Without thinking you reached forward and grasped the belt slung over his chest, pulling him forward.

Loki’s mouth clashed with yours, the heat of his lips giving way to the thrust of his tongue. Your hands slid over his metal epaulettes, tangling in ebony waves that cascaded around his shoulders. He tasted like heaven, the scent of him deep and dangerously delicious in a way you’d never known. A scent a girl could lose herself in forever; gladly.

In seconds your back was flat against the table, its cool wood harsh against the heat of your skin through the blouse. Loki’s ravenous kiss consumed you, licking and dancing inside your mouth like a man possessed. His shallow moans ricocheted between slurps of his lips, wetness coating them.

“Tell me, you infuriating woman,” he panted as a thick forearm landed on the wood beside your head. The metal vambrace clanged against cheap wood. Saliva hung between your mouths as he stared deep into your soul; blue eyes darkening. “Tell me what you like.”

“About you?” you panted. Loki didn’t nod, only lowered his chin.

His nose nudged at your lips, dragging upwards, tongue tracing around the bottom one. He had begun to smile. One of his legs nudged your thighs wider. The god straightened and you felt a thrill run from your scalp to the tips of your dangling toes. He towered above like a monolith, leather tight to his rectangular body. Hair fell around his jaw, perfectly imperfectly wolfish curls flirting against his skin. His cape brushed against your bare calves as he shifted his stance, palms sliding up your thighs and pushing your skirt higher. “Yes; I like the idea of what’s beneath all this,” you whined as you pawed at his leather-clad stomach. It was so hard. Loki smirked, watching beneath half-lidded eyes. “I think about fucking you in the showers after training,” you whispered bashfully as your hips thrust up against your will. Loki raised an eyebrow. “More...” he rumbled. “I think about you all the time. All the awful things I want to do to you, y-you do to me- Loki, uhh-”

His hands crept higher as you spoke, fingers hooking around the hips of your panties. “If I pull these down, darling” he said with an air of reprimand, “will they be wet?” You let out a gasping moan, back arching against the table.

“Excellent.” Loki snickered, pulling the panties down the length of your legs before stepping back between them.

A hand flew to your mouth as you watched one long finger dip between your thighs, running lightly between your folds. He brought it to his lips, sucking gently. His cheekbones hollowed, finger slipping out. He swallowed with a groan of appreciation.

Loki settled himself between your legs, pushing them wider. The height of the table pressed your dripping centre against his crotch. You thought you might explode. His palms slid up your waist, exploring the curves of your body while your legs wrapped around his hips. The god’s cock pressed eagerly against the leather, strong and thick up the centre. His forearms came down at either side of your head, metal wrist-guards clinking.

“I will show you what it is to be mine,” he murmured in your ear.

Loki’s cock settled against your sex, rubbing in perfect gyration. “Oh...god,” you gasped as the weight of his body pressed against your own.

Fingers combed up from the base of his neck, tangling in his hair. The next moment, they grasped around his back, pulling him closer, catching in the folds of his cloak which draped across your bodies. The god grunted filthy praises in your ear as his bound manhood sent electric currents of pleasure deeper than you’d ever known. His searching lips found their way to your neck, your jaw. Every utterance from his throat more disgustingly sensual than the last. Hot leather filled your nostrils, the scent of him strong and intoxicating. Mounting orgasm bubbled in waves, a dream-like trance broken only with whispered groans of pleasure from your throats. Loki Laufeyson was about to make you cum. The thought was unbelievable. And yet, your pussy being tugged and massaged and owned by his leather-bound cock into the throes of heaven knew it to be true. Dry-humped like a teenager in the back of a pick-up.

“Be mine...” Loki mumbled breathlessly, a strangled choke gasping from deep in his chest. He immediately dove for a perishing kiss, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth and releasing it with a wet suck. He smouldered down.

Against the bright lights, his dark halo shone; tendrils curling against your cheek and brushing with every calculated roll of his hips. Every muscle in your body tensed. Your legs tightened against his hips.

“Be mine,” he echoed. His face was twisted, and you suddenly wondered how close he was to cumming in those beautiful leather pants. “Loki-” you gasped, clutching at his cape. Back arching, the last thing you heard as climax stormed your brain were the matching pants of the god. The last thing you saw were his peaked brows above dilated pupils so deep you could drown in them.

In the afterglow, all you could manage were garbled phrases as your forearm draped over your eyes. “That was...unexpected.” you panted when the god’s weight lifted from your chest. “Perhaps for you.” Loki winked. “It was very carefully calculated on my part,” You watched in dazed disbelief as Loki sank to his knees, leather creaking, and hoisted your hips higher. He lapped at your soaking pussy, muffled moans seeping from his throat as he buried himself in your fresh pleasure. The flat of his tongue licked a thick stripe from the base to your swollen clit, placing a gentle suck on the tip. His eyes flickered up, meeting yours.

“Immaculate, as expected.” he breathed. His chin glistened.

You groaned as he withdrew; grasping at the air as he went. That small caress of him against your sex was everything you could ever have dreamed. Loki let you reluctantly arrange yourself before offering his hand for the short hop off the table. “Not exactly how I imagined our first time,” you said with a sheepish smile. Loki scanned your face.

“Agent don’t be insulting. That was merely a sample,” he scoffed. “It barely counts.” He stepped forward, pulling you flush against him with a flat palm at the base of your spine. “We must ensure you have eaten something before more intimate activities are indulged in; lest you faint. Or worse.” “Or worse?” “You are only mortal, after all.” Loki smiled slyly. “And this,” he gestured to his cock; hard and straining against the leather, “can be rather a handful. As well can his Master.” You slapped him on the shoulder. Loki smirked. Remembering the unexpected schedule change, you frowned. “You think we have time before the meeting later?”

Loki snorted. “We’re not attending. The two of us fulfilled our obligations, unlike the more cretinous members of our party.” You raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to get me in trouble, I can tell.” Loki’s fingers danced up your back, a light thrust of his hips making your body keen. His dirty exhale flooded your ear, the warm scent of him overloading your senses.

“Oh Agent,” he purred against the skin; his eyes darting covertly to the pair of panties discarded on the floor. “As if you expected anything less.”

Taglist (continued in comments)

@lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @liminalpebble @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @icytrickster17 @multifandom-worlds @buttercupcookies-blog

#loki x reader #loki smut #loki laufeyson #loki x reader smut #loki x female reader #loki x you #loki x you smut #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #lokismut #loki oneshot #loki laufeyson smut #loki laufeyson x reader #loki imagine #loki x yn #loki x female reader smut #loki gifs #loki marvel

1K notes · View notes

vespertineneon · 2 years

Text

Warnings: mention of nsfw? Unhealthy relationships

I’m so fucking into non-sexual submissive behaviors. Like holy shit. And the praise that follows. I’m not talking ab that smut praise of “you’re taking me so well”.

I can’t stop thinking ab a situationship with c!quackity . (maybe I’ll write a series after this idea.)

My last post was about Y/N and Dream in Pandora’s vault. And Quackity is torturing Y/N as a thing to get Dream to do what he wants (I KNOW there’s a word for that but I cannot find it in my vocabulary)

But I was also thinking, what if C!Quackity made a deal with Dream or something? I haven’t really built up that idea yet. But basically it means Y/N is allowed out of Pandora’s Vault to work for Quackity under strict rules and watch. But Quackity ends up having this very unhealthy love interest in Y/N. Because there is a very intense power dynamic thing goin on right? So Y/N kinda has to put up with it. It’s controlling and horrible but holy shit do I wanna write about that.

Y/N being slammed into a wall by an emotional mess of a Quackity as he yells at them. On and on about how “YOU CAN’T LEAVE”

“Everyone out there hates you! They KNOW you worked with Dream. I’m the only one who doesn’t have it out for you like that. So stay in your fucking place and be grateful.”

And we’re totally off topic from the “praise” starter.

Quackity calling over Y/N to sit next to him while he does paperwork or something. Maybe bringing him a water or a snack. And you’re met with a smile. I know it’s toxic as hell to have a mindset of “if I’m submissive I’ll earn his love” but BEING SUBMISSIVE AND IN TURN, BEING SHOWN ACTS OF LOVE IS JUST AIGHHSHHS.

#Quackity #c!quackity x reader #c!quackity x y/n #c!quackity #warden sam #dsmp fanfic #dsmp x reader #las nevadas #pandora’s vault #dsmp drabble #dsmp rant #c!quackity x reader Drabble #c!quackity Drabble #c!quackity rant

106 notes · View notes

ptergwen · 2 years

Note

starks daughter reader x peter parker, making out? like the avengers ask jarvis to show what’s happening in her room and they see what’s happening?

ask box | taglist | blurb masterlist | main masterlist

w/c: 719

warnings: 18+, explicit language, implied smut

a/n: i made one little change so it’s friday instead of jarvis but everything else is the same so i hope you don’t mind and that you enjoy! also don’t forget to join my new taglist y’all mwah

“y/n…”

you’re kissing down peter’s neck, lips leaving goosebumps on his skin. he’s practically writhing underneath you, and you’ve hardly even done anything.

yet.

“y/n, baby.”

you grip the collar of peter’s shirt in both hands and bring your lips to the shell of his ear.

“yes, peter?”

“c’mon, we can’t. we’re… we’re gonna be late for dinner.”

“wouldn’t you rather eat me instead?”

your teeth sink into peter’s earlobe, a hand traveling down to the bottom of his shirt. peter throws his head back and closes his eyes, trying to resist you, but he can’t. you’re his weakness.

“fuck, y/n/n. don’t do this to me.”

“what, is there something else you want me to do to you?”

you start to pull peter’s shirt over his head, but he grabs both your hands in one of his.

“we’ve gotta go join the others. you know how important team dinners are to your dad.”

“and you know how much i despise them.”

“yeah, but i don’t understand why. i think they’re a sweet idea.”

“i think they suck.”

“how come?”

“steve makes the blandest food, thor has literally zero table manners, and everyone’s always asking me questions. way too many questions.”

“you mean trying to get to know you?”

“it’s the fucking worst.”

peter chuckles and pulls you in by your waist.

“you really are a stark.”

“am i? because the leader of the pack came up with this whole team dinner thing.”

“your dad just wants everyone to spend more time together.”

“well, i just wanna spend time with you.”

you peck peter’s lips. peter smiles and secures his arms around your waist.

“at least wanda’s cooking tonight. means the food will actually have some flavor.”

“yippee.”

peter lets out a breath.

“i’d be more than happy to eat you for dessert, but dinner first, okay?”

“or i could be your appetizer.”

your lips attack peter’s before he can respond. despite himself, he gives in this time, kissing back with just as much fervor.

“what’s taking them so long? the chicken paprikash is almost done.”

“looks delish, wanda. i’ve never had sokovian food before.”

“oh, thank you, scott. you’ll love it.”

“sure, sure. i bet i will. i just, y’know… it won’t be spicy, will it?”

sam elbows bucky’s arm.

“dude thinks paprika is spicy.”

“and i thought i was bad.”

scott frowns.

“what? it’s a spice, isn’t it?”

tony enters the dining room with a grin, rubbing his hands together.

“hey, gang. smells good in here, little red.”

“thanks, tony. i’m just about ready to serve it. we’re waiting on the kids.”

“oh? they’re still not down yet?”

“nope,” bruce sighs. “i saw them sneaking up to y/n’s room earlier,” natasha smirks. “dang, you didn’t have to rat them out,” sam remarks.

“like you wouldn’t do the same.”

“fair.”

“stop teasing, you two,” steve chastises. “no, no. this is true. i passed little stark and the spiderling on the stairs,” thor says.

tony glares at thor.

“so you all knew they were canoodling, and no one thought to tell me?”

“uh oh, drama,” scott whispers to wanda. “canoodling?” natasha snorts.

steve shoots them both looks.

“i’m sure they’re on their way down, tony.”

“yeah? let’s find out.”

tony double taps his glasses. his artificial intelligence comes to life.

“friday, show me y/n.”

“on it, boss.”

friday taps into her system that’s installed in your room and broadcasts the feed to tony’s glasses. he immediately regrets asking her to do so when he sees what you’re up to. yours and peter’s tongues are quite literally down each other’s throats, and peter is trying to take your bra off, but struggling to unhook it.

tony rips off his glasses and tosses them onto the dining room table. he shudders, shaking his head to rid his mind of the image. natasha puts on tony’s glasses to see for herself.

“yup. they’re canoodling, alright.”

“for real? this i’ve gotta see.”

“wait your turn, wilson.”

tony snatches his glasses back from natasha.

“absolutely not. no one will be taking turns watching my daughter and parker swap spit. have some class, will you?”

“yeah, have some class!” thor chimes in through a mouthful of bread wanda had put on the table.

wanda joins everyone with a serving plate of food.

“chicken paprikash, anyone?”

tags: @mystic-writings @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @lnmp89 @jenoslov @crvshnburnn @yourlocalomlette @starlight-starks @belovasheart @liltimmyst @eviewriites @hollandsangel @parkerctrl @eichenhouseproperty @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @varshhyy @ellebutnotwoods @magicalxdaydream @tayyx

#peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x avenger!reader #peter parker writing #peter parker imagine #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x you #marvel #mcu #tom holland writing

14K notes · View notes

anakinsdove · 2 months

Text

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 | 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐞

pairing: sam monroe x shy!girlygirl!fem!reader

summary: sam can’t seem to get hard, he also can’t stand you, but he needs your help.

c/w: nsfw, fluff, friends to lovers, sam pretends not to like reader but they’re actually friends, handjob, makeout session, overstimulation, unintentional dacryphilia? reader doesn’t know she has that kink, also sam is mean and reader is kinda innocent if not naive.

discord - twitter: anakinsdove

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ﾟ。Love you

𝘄/𝗰 - 𝟮,𝟮𝟱𝟴.

Sam stroked his cock lazily, laying on his messy bed while “Paranoid” from Black Sabbath played from his stereo volume insanely loud, he stared at the ceiling eyes wide open. To say he was frustrated was an understatement, he’s been stroking his cock for the past 45 minutes and he can’t even get hard yet, he doesn’t understand what’s wrong, “fuck!” He yells in frustration, he watched every single porn tape he owned and couldn’t even pop a boner, from time to time he looks beside him to the porn magazine, hes just not focused, not even his imagination can help him… it’s been like this for the past week. Maybe it finally happened, his cock doesn’t work anymore and he’s still a virgin, he’s pathetic.

Weed doesn’t work, porn doesn’t work, imagination doesn’t work and he’s not lucky enough to get action, the only thing worse than not being able to get hard himself is not being able to get hard with another girl, he would rather kill himself. His wrist aches and he cries out in frustration, he’s so needy, and he’s sweating, it’s so unfair…. he doesn’t hear you knocking on his window.

“sam!” you been calling his name for the past two minutes but it felt like an eternity for your antsy little ass, he’ll kill you if you go inside without his permission, you don’t understand what his deal is when not letting people go inside he’s too dramatic you think “sam!” you call again, now you’re starting to get impatient so you decide to open his balcony door and get inside.

Sam cringes at sunlight and cries out “get out!” throwing at you the porn magazine beside his head as he quickly covers himself with the sheets… what the fuck?

“What is this?” you ask curiously as you kneel to pick up the magazine your eyes instantly landing on the woman with big tits “Turn around!” Sam yells furiously, you do as he says and quickly puts on a pair of boxers, when he realizes you’re still flicking through his magazine, he walks over and takes it right out of your hands, you don’t say anything only look up at him with doe eyes… sam looks away.

“Are you ready to go?” You ask with that sweet and calm voice of yours, exactly the opposite of Sam’s “Go where?” He asks annoyed, you never made plans of going anywhere together, “My house, we’re going to watch a movie” sam pretends to think hardly about it, making you think he might have more important things to do, cooler things to do than to watch a movie with you, well he doesn’t. “Fine but I’m picking the movie” you nod and Sam turns around to grab some pants from his floor.

“Let’s go” Sam says like it’s obvious he’s done and you’re just standing there like an idiot, you follow him downstairs and to the front door and this time sam opens the door for you but still pushes you a little to get out faster.

You start walking trying to maintain his peace, and steal glances at him when you can, before he notices it “What?” Sam asks… so he did notice after all “Nothing its just… you’re not wearing makeup” you say “So?” He asks “it’s uncommon” he doesn’t roll his eyes or anything, you might be starting to think you’re friends. 10 minutes later you arrive to your house and this time you open the door for Sam.

“Where’s your mom?” He asks “she’s not home” “cool” Sam knows very well the way to your room, your room is completely different to his, clean bedsheets and freshly made bed, pink wallpaper decorating your walls and what might be the star of your room, your pretty vanity displaying all of your makeup, Sam always looks a little bit interested in your makeup but when he realizes it mostly soft colors and pink, blushes and lip gloss he loses interest just as quick, he thinks the only cool makeup product you own it’s black eyeliner, you grab your favorite disc “six pence none the richer” by six pence none the richer and “Kiss me” starts playing, Sam’s face instantly turns in disgust.

“What?” You ask, “isn’t there anything less awful you could play?” “Huh?” “Limp bizkit or something” “Limp what?” Sam decides to drop the topic due your answer. “Wait here, I’ll make the popcorn” you sprint out of your room and sam wanders through your room, he’s done it a dozen times by now, even knows which one is your underwear drawer, where your diary is… he beats up your plushies and when he’s done he goes across the room and stares at your Chad Michael Murray poster you probably found in a girly magazine and gives it the middle finger.

He can hear you singing downstairs and he rolls his eyes, what’s wrong with her? Sam asks himself, and two minutes later he decides there’s nothing worthy of his time in your room and lays on your bed staring at the ceiling “Here” you say putting the popcorn bowl on his stomach, he didn’t even hear you come upstairs, you sit next to him and squirm trying to get comfortable, Sam quickly looks away when he sees your skirt riding up a little bit “So, what movie are we watching?” You ask excited

Sam smirks

“Sam!” You cry out trying to cover your eyes with the popcorn bowl, of course he picked “Texas Chainsaw massacre” you’ve never watched this movie before and you totally hated it, 40 minutes later into the film.. Sam ignores your plea and his eyes are still focused on the tv, “Sam…” you say weakly with a pout in your face, “Sam can we please watch something else?” Sam sighs and grabs the tv remote to pause the movie. “Why?” “It’s too scary” “You’re such a crybaby” Sam says annoyed “It’s all fake, you know that right?” “It’s still very awful” you say and Sam grabs the popcorn bowl from your arms “sorry” you say apologetically.

“Do you want to go outside?” You ask “No” “What do you want to do?” He doesn’t respond “Sam” you try again “what!?” Sam says annoyed and you look like wounded puppy “what’s wrong? you seem really annoyed today, more than usual” “I’m fine” you sit closer to him, now your thighs are touching and he can smell your dizzying body lotion that smells like cupcakes, he stares at your lips and your cleavage…

“You can talk to me, I won’t judge you” Sam knows you would never do it, you’re too pure to make a joke of any situation that might be hurting him “My dick is broken” he lets out abruptly “what?” “I can’t get hard” Sam confesses “Oh” you don’t really know what to say…. “Why?” “I don’t fucking know” there clearly annoyance in his voice

“Are you going to see a doctor?” “What!? Why the fuck would I go to the doctor” “I dunno” you say confused and mostly to yourself “Are you going to tell your mom?” “You give the worst advices ever, seriously, are you that stupid. I wont tell my fucking mom” now he sounds genuinely angry. “Hey you’re not being nice!” Now it’s your turn to yell at him “I’m not trying to be!” You grab your pillow and hit him in the face with it, hard enough to make him yelp, then he grabs your other pillow and hits you with it, you gasp offended “Hey!” You grab the pillow again and start hitting him repeatedly pushing him on his back and getting on his lap as you keep your assault, you’re practically jumping on his dick as the bed moves and creaks beneath you, “Stop!” Sam yells urgently under you, you keep going and Sam lets out a moan and urgently grabs your hips to keep you still “S-stop! I’m sorry”

You finally stop the assault, your expression changing to confusion when you realize Sam is panting beneath you, “What’s wrong?” You ask, he looks up to you in shock and sits up, you try to get off his laps but his hands hold your hips still “Did I hurt you?” You ask with evident sadness and regret in your voice “I’m hard” Sam confesses breathlessly “But I thought you couldn’t-“ “I couldn’t!” You carefully remove yourself from his lap, his blue eyes stare at the obvious tent in his pants and you do it too, he takes the pillow and covers himself feeling ashamed “You’re driving me crazy, you know that?” There’s slight annoyance in his voice “You know what is like trying to jack off soft?” You shake your head “It’s fucking annoying” “But I made you hard isn’t that what you wanted?” He shakes his head “I thought I helped you” you said confused “You could help me if I could kiss you” he says and you look at him shocked “i thought we weren’t friends” “We’re not friends” he says “Are you my boyfriend then?” “What!?” He says shocked “I dunno” you say “L-Look sometimes what you think you know doesn’t necessarily have to do much with reality” you tilt your head to the side “Okay”

You start leaning in and he lens back a little bit, you open your eyes in confusion and quickly closes them when he finally kisses you, his lips are soft, inexperienced just as yours, he moves his lips a little more impatient than yours, he’s uncoordinated, you moan when he grabs your waist roughly with one hand trying to pull you close to him, he’s not gentle, not because he doesn’t want to but because he doesn’t know how to… “Sammy… I want to help you” you say breathlessly… he kisses you again and moves him hands to tug on his pants, also his boxers, his cock is freed and slaps against his stomach… “what do I do?” You ask, so much for helping him “Just w-wrap your hand around it” you wrap your hand around his dick too loose for his liking he groans in annoyance due your unintentional teasing.

Sam wraps his hand around yours instructing you to tighten your wrip, and you do, he guides your hand to stroke him faster “Yesyesyes something like that” Sam says and his eyes screw shut “g-give me your hand” he says breathlessly, you do as he says and he spits in your hand “You can go again” you feel the familiar wetness in your panties as you keep jerking him off, the wetness you feel in you aching pussy that can only be relieved when you grind yourself against your plushies rubing nicely against you clit.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when you hear Sam say between moans, “Play with my balls c’mon” you cup them gently in your hand not knowing much about what to do with them.. when you start rolling them between your fingers, they feel nice and heavy on your palm fuzzy skin feeling so delicious against your fingers, his heavy cock in your hand is pulsating, you look at him and see his stomach contracting where his shirt rode up… he can’t help but let out pathetic whines “You sound so pretty Sam” you say and his eyes roll back, he moves his hands up to grip your tits and massage them, unexpectedly he grips them too hard and you make a small “ow” sounds make him grip them more gently Sam thinks he’s in heaven… he might be.

“c-cumming cumming!” he pants “ohh f-fuck!” Sam spams, his eyes roll back and his thighs shake, it’s a sight for sore eyes… white ropes of cum paint your hand and your wrist, you keep moving your wrist to help him ride his orgasm, just like when you keep grinding against your plushies after you cum… but Sam is not used to it “w-wait wait!” Sam writes on the bed trying to get away from your touch, “what?” You ask as your wrist keeps moving up and down still at a really fast peace, his head rolls back and you hear a whimper, his toes curl inside his shoes as he kicks his feet desperately… “ah ah ah!” tears start falling from his eyes wetting his eyelashes as he gasps for air “s-stop” you stop instantly when you hear the word and Sam groans tiredly… what the fuck… you gave him the best orgasm of his life… You “Y/N L/N”

Sam curls into himself panting still… you move to your nightstand to grab a wet wipe, you clean your hand and move him on his back… wiping the cum that landed on his stomach and some on his dick, Sam hisses at the contact of the cold wipe on his dick… “Did you- did you like it?” you ask nervously, Sam opens his eyes and puts his softening cock back in his boxers and tugs his pants up. Sam nodds shyly “T-thank you” You unexpectedly hug him falling on top of him, “I’m glad I could help-“

“Y/N!” You hear your mom call from downstairs shes coming upstairs Sam panics a little “Hey Sam!” Your mom greets Sam and he weakly waves at her “What are you guys doing?” “W-We just finished watching a movie” “Oh Okay” finally your mom leaves to her room.

Unexpectedly sam kisses you again, this time is soft and gentle, not rushed but still passionate, “You’re so pretty” he admits “I thought you didn’t like me” you admit “I do” “I thought we weren’t friends” “We’re not!” Sam says and kisses you again.

𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐜! 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤?

dividers @i92-93 @sweetparty

#sam monroe x you #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe smut #sam monroe fluff #hayden christensen #sam monroe imagine #sam Monroe Hayden Christensen #sam monroe life as a house

996 notes · View notes

mrsbarnesblog · 6 months

Text

Little games

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Gamer! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: you really need to calm down, so you get under Bucky's table while he's playing with his friends.

Words count: 1.4k

Warnings: smut, established relationship, college gamer bucky, blow job, come eating, pet names

Author’s note: even though originally I posted it back in August, I might as well publish it now as a part of the kinktober. enjoy and let me know what you think🩷

It was a long fucking day with too many stupid people that just played on your nerves. You were supposed to study at the library for your exam, but instead you were arguing with people who didn’t know how to properly behave in public places and talk to others

Almost an hour later, your blood was still boiling with anger, and you came to your and Bucky’s apartment, carelessly throwing your bag on the floor and kicking off your shoes. You needed to punch someone, scream, take a hot shower, or just have really good sex. And you knew someone who could help you with the last one.

You walked into Bucky’s playing room; it was a little bit dark with a few neon lights turned on. He was sitting there with headphones, without a shirt, and only in black shorts. The camera was off; he was just playing with his friends, but he was too fucking hot for his own good.

The urge to climb on Bucky right in his playing chair hit you like lightning. You walked closer, wrapping your hands around his neck from the back and sliding them lower down his firm chest.

“Hey, baby doll.” He pushed back the microphone, giving you a quick look but then going back to his stupid game. You deeply inhaled as another wave of annoyance ran through your body because you didn’t get the attention you wanted.

“Buck… I’m really angry right now, and I need you.” You mumbled against the hot skin of his neck.

“Gimme like... ten minutes, doll, ‘kay? I have to finish this, or we’re gonna lose. Love you.” Bucky, not looking away from the monitor, placed a kiss on your cheek, and you heard a muffled sound of Steve’s or Sam’s voice in the headphones. “No-no, it’s nothing—on your back!” Bucky suddenly screamed into the microphone as his body moved forward.

You rolled your eyes, knowing damn well that this is not for “ten minutes”. You didn’t mind him having such a hobby, but at times like this, you just wanted to throw everything in the trash because it was really hard to get Bucky’s attention during the games. It was obvious that if you wanted to cool down, you needed to take everything in your hands. Well, quite literally.

You stepped to the side of Bucky’s chair before dropping to your knees and getting under his table in well-trained motions. It's not like you haven’t done it before. He probably didn’t even notice it because when you quickly put your hand on his crotch, he jumped in surprise and looked at you with his big baby-blue eyes.

“What are you doing?!” He whispered so his friends couldn’t hear him.

“I am fucking mad, James, and since you don't want to fuck it out of me, I’ll do everything by myself.” You hissed, dragging his shorts down enough to reveal his semi-hard cock.

Bucky’s eyes rolled back as soon as your soft hand wrapped around him, and he felt that he became hard almost immediately. Usually, he didn’t miss a single chance to get his hands on you. Bucky was quite literally obsessed with you, and he was ready to have sex with you everywhere and every time, but right now he was in the middle of the game with his friends, who might hear everything.

His body became hot within a second. His hips unconsciously jerked upwards to meet your hand, and he completely forgot what he was doing, looking at your grinning face in between his legs with a slightly open mouth.

“Barnes, what the fuck are you doing? I almost got killed!” It was probably Sam, you thought, but it didn’t stop you from your intentions.

“Do you hear it, Buck?” You innocently whispered, spitting on the hard cock in your hand to help your slow movements. “Continue playing your little game; I’ll just do my business here.”

“Erm, nothing, it’s just—Alpine dropped something, I don’t know, got distracted...” Bucky breathed out into the microphone, trying to stay as calm as possible, his eyes quickly moving between you and the screen. He continued to play, still trying to win the game, even though your hand felt too good and his eyes desperately wanted to close.

Your smirk grew wider before you leaned closer to his cock and traced the vein on the lower side, going from the bottom to the top and swirling your tongue around the head at the end. You hummed at his taste in your mouth, sending vibrations down his body.

The reaction was exactly how you wanted it to be. Bucky cursed under his mouth; his head fell back, and you could tell by the way his arms and jaw were tensed that he wanted to moan. Yes, he was always vocal, so teasing him that way felt so good.

“What is wrong with you, man?” Another voice was heard through the headphones, but Bucky didn’t seem to care.

“Oh, fuck!” Your lips wrapped around his cock, sucking on the tip and looking Bucky directly in the eyes. You knew that it drove him crazy. Bucky completely forgot about his game while different people yelled at him and put his left hand on top of your head, guiding you to get lower. “Just like that...”

“Who are you talking to?”

“Are you having sex?”

“What the fuck are you doing, Barnes?”

A bunch of different questions mixed in the group voice chat, and it became so annoying that Bucky just muted the call and pulled his headphones off.

You tried to smile, but it was hard to do in your current position. You lowered your head, taking more of Bucky’s hard cock into your mouth. The hand on your head was firm, but it didn’t push you down. When the tip hit the back of your throat, he loudly moaned and gripped your hair, holding you in place.

“Fuck-fuck-fuck!” You didn’t stop, staying like that for a few seconds even though your vision was already blurred with tears. You pulled back, stroking his cock with your hand again. The mixture of your tears, saliva, and his pre-cum made a mess on your face, but it was the least of your concerns. “You’re so pretty, baby, so good for me. What made you so mad, hm?” You saw how his pink tongue licked his lips, and even more dirty thoughts about your boyfriend’s face in between your legs made you want to whimper and rub your thighs together.

“Some assholes in the library. Fuck, Bucky, just use my mouth, I need it.” The smirk appeared on his lips again. The hand on your head buried itself into your hair, holding them tightly but not too rough to hurt you, and pushed you back on his waiting cock.

You moaned around him when Bucky didn’t hesitate and started to move your head up and down, hitting the back of your throat every single time. You gripped his thighs, digging your nail into the skin, and relaxed so you wouldn’t choke too much.

With each thrust, you felt that Bucky was getting closer. The movements became slightly out of rhythm, and he didn’t hold his moans anymore. The phone began to ring, and you both knew that it was one of the guys, but neither of you cared enough to pay attention to it.

“Of fuck—baby, ‘m gonna cum.” You didn’t pull away, and in just a few seconds, you felt the thick and hot liquid filling your mouth. Bucky released your hair, unable to move in his chair, while you took his cock in your hands and stroked him a few times until the last drops fell onto your waiting tongue. You swallowed everything, locking eyes with Bucky’s hazy ones, and kissed the tip one last time. “You’re going to kill me. Fuck, you should go to the library more often, sweetheart.” His lips curled in a sneer, and when Bucky wanted to drag you onto his lap, the phone rang again.

He rolled his eyes but still answered.

“What the fuck, Barnes, we lost because of you!”

“I don’t really care, Willson, because I just got the best head, and now I’m going to have no less good sex with my amazing girlfriend. Don't call me for at least a few hours.”

“Ew, you’re motherf—”

Bucky didn’t listen to whatever Sam wanted to say and ended the call, throwing away his phone. Then he looked back at you, still on the floor, and that dangerously attractive grin appeared on his face again.

“Now let me pay you back, and then fuck you the way you wanted me to. Gotta help my girlfriend relax, right?” That was Bucky’s last words before he stood up, helped you stand up, and then casually threw you over his shoulder, taking you to your bedroom.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #james buchanan barnes #bucky fanfic #marvel smut #kinktober #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you

1K notes · View notes

bueckerssturns · 3 months

Text

soulmates - c. brock

colby x fem! latina! reader

warnings: cursing, ghost hunting, blood.

she/ her pronouns used, theres some spanish speaking in this.

————————————————————————

“WHATS UP GUYS ITS SAM AND COLBY!” colby exclaimed to the camera that sam was currently holding.

“today we will be exploring ‘the queen mary’ with a few special guests!” sam said as he turned the camera around to show four people standing in front of a car waving and smiling.

Amanda, Larray, Nick, and y/n were asked to be in this video since they had been planning on collaborating, what better way than taking all four of them to the queen mary in long beach

the group went inside to check in and get a tour of the ship and settle into their rooms.

10:00pm

“are you guys ready?” sam asked to the group who were all sitting down talking about the ship and the history behind it

“yea i am” spoke y/n “yea, no imma log off because who do i look like nancy drew?” exclaimed larray as he was pretending to leave.

they joked a bit more and then walked out of the room making their way to the ships pool area y/n felt targeted, from feeling taps on her shoulder to hearing people calling her name.

“hijos de su puta madre” she mumbled under her breath as she felt a chill run down her spine “you good?” asked larray next to her with a concerned look.

“yea i just keep feeling taps, hearing whispers behind me and i just felt a chill run down my spine”

“okay so we’re in front of the pool were apparently a little girl died, we will be parting ways here colby, nick, and I will stay here in the pool area while larray, amanda, and y/n go to room B340” explained sam into the camera the larray and y/n holding on to each other with shocked expressions on while amanda looked at sam in disbelief.

“we’re going there ALONE?!” asked larray “yes, we will stay here and do the estes method and you guys go to the room to do it, afterwards we’ll come together and say what we got from it” explained colby.

“okay.. that’s not bad we can do that..” said amanda.

the group separated to their designated areas and ready to do the dual estes method.

“okay while they go to the room and we stay here we will have nick do the estes method!” sam said holding the blindfolded and radio.

“wait why do i have to do it?” nick asked with a nervous laugh “because you’re new to the channel!” laughed colby putting the blindfold on nick.

helping nick sit down on the floor and putting on the headphones the boys decided to finally start their session.

“nick, can you hear us?” said sam looking at the camera and back to him, no response.

“okay, it appears he can’t hears so let’s get this started with” exhaled colby “who are we talking to?” he asked.

“girl” nick said “is this the girl that died in the pool behind us?” sam asked.

with the other three

they walked into the room ready to start their session when the lights started to flicker.

“woah did you get that?” asked amanda facing y/n who was currently holding the camera, nodding her head hesitantly facing the camera towards the lights.

“okay since y/n has been ‘targeted’ throughout this whole thing i think it’s best if she does the estes method!” larray said reaching for the camera and facing it to said girl.

slowly nodding she’s put on the blindfold grabbing the headphones and going into the trance.

“y/n/n? can you hear us?” silence “okay since she can’t hear us we should start the questions” said larray. “who are we talking to?” asked amanda

“danger” y/n said in a scared voice “is someone in danger?” both amanda and larray asked.

“y/n” said girl flinched at the sound of her name

“what about her?” asked amanda “i want her” mumbled y/n with fear in her voice. larray didn’t like the sound of that so he tapped her shoulder to get her out of the trance.

“what happened? is everything okay?” asked y/n “yea, you just said some things that terrified us so we decided to take you out of the trance i think we should go with the guys to tell them what happened” explained amanda.

as they were leaving y/n being the last one she heard a voice as she looked back the door in front of her shut locking her in the dark room.

larray and amanda turn around at the sound of a door slamming and screaming, they soon realized that y/n wasn’t behind them anymore.

tugging at the door to open y/n couldn’t help but feel a hefty amount of pressure on her chest and the whole room going blurry.

“y/n!” amanda exclaimed pushing at the door to get it open but couldn’t “larray go get the guys! the door won’t open!” she exclaimed panicking.

larray was running to the guys with a panicked look on his face colby was the first to notice him and the fact that the girls were not behind him.

“larray, is everything okay? where are the girls?” colby asked while sam took nick out of the trance. “that’s what i came for we were leaving when suddenly the door closed trapping y/n inside the room we can’t get open” he was cut off by colby running off to the direction of the girls the rest following him.

as soon as colby got there he started to slam his body weight against the door to get it to budge but it wouldn’t open after a few slamming against it and punches the door open to a y/n on the floor with her head in her knees panicking.

once she heard the door open and colby walking up to her she ran to him almost tackling him into a hug.

“are you okay?” he whispered in the crook of her neck, not being able to speak she just nodded her head as a response pulling away from him a little to look at him before slamming her lips to his.

they parted from the kiss just looking at each other “sorry, i just thought i’d-” she was interrupted by his lips crashing into hers.

even though they both did not believe in soulmates one thing is for certain they were meant to be and nothing could ruin that for them.

————————————————————————

this a long one but that’s good hope yall enjoyed this 🤟 sorry nick didn’t have enough lines but i’ll make sure next time he has more lines next time i write a story with him! also i finished this during school so it’s not edited 💔

#colby brock #colby x reader #sam and colby #sam golbach #xplr #fanfic #x reader #colby brock smut #colby brock x reader #sam and colby fanfiction #nick sturniolo #larray #latina reader

632 notes · View notes

spiderwcd · 3 months

Text

siren lake c.b.

pairing: colby brock x mermaid/siren ! f ! reader

summary: they come to explore the haunted lake, but maybe it wasn't just haunted.

warning(s): mentions of deaths, near drowning, profanity, near-death experiences mystical creatures, etc.

w.c.: 3.3k

a/n: guys, please don't hate me!! i've been away so long, ive been having writer's block and then i've been so busy with my life and having the worst luck ever (they weren't wrong about that fanfic writer curse) but trust me! i have a lot of works saved, slowly plowing through them.

images from pinterest !

“Dude,” Sam abruptly jumped from his seat on the couch, carrying his laptop over to Colby. “Look at this.” He pointed the screen towards him, revealing his discovery.

Colby curiously averted his gaze over to the screen, reading the article that was pulled up. “W-What am I looking at here, Sam?” he inquired, raising a brow towards him.

“Well, someone sent me this article about this supposedly haunted lake,” Sam began, plopping himself next to Colby on the couch. “They say that these entities are haunting it, causing a bunch of disappearances.” He finally added.

Taking a moment, Colby glanced at the article, contemplating. “I mean, it’s worth a shot,” Colby muttered, facing towards his best friend.

In due time, they arrived in Michigan, the Land of the Lakes. Colby had been studying about this mysterious lake, finding holes in different stories. It was something unknown to him, unable to find an obvious answer here.

“Okay, so as we know,” Sam began, looking over at Colby from the driver’s seat. “This lake is in the middle of the forest, near some campsites.” Sam clarified.

Colby nodded, understanding his statement, “Don’t forget to mention the disappearances, also about the spirit that drowns first in the 80s.” He pointed out.

Sam nodded in return, pursing his lips as he attempted to dig further into his thoughts. “Oh, what about the mermaid theory?” Sam suddenly blurted out.

Colby scoffed, looking over at Sam with a slight grimace. “Seriously? Mermaids?” Colby murmured, flipping through his notebook. “I mean, sure, it’s a fun idea to entertain, but we both know that’s not real.”

“Oh hey, come on,” Sam nudged Colby, still steering the wheel of the car. “It’s nice to have an imagination here, Colby.” Sam chuckled, patting him on the shoulder before placing both hands on the wheel.

Colby shook his head, smiling as he studied the pages of research. He examined the illustration on the page, deep into toying with the idea. He shook his head once more, closing the page as he thought about the ridiculous idea.

The car came to a halt, prompting Colby to face upward to the scene. His jaw flew open in amazement, admiring the large forest surrounding them. The middle showcased a lake larger than he had envisioned.

“Woah,” Colby muttered, exiting the car to get a better view. “Did not expect it to be so gorgeous out here.”

“Even if this comes to a dead end, at least we’ll have a good time in the middle of the forest.” Sam joked.

“You must be Sam and Colby,” they had suddenly heard, causing them to avert their gaze over to the voice. “Hi, I’m Ben.” The man waved over towards the two.

The duo made their way towards their host, introducing each other.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Ben had asked them.

“Oh yes,” Sam nodded, glancing around once again. “Very nice, exceeded our expectations.”

“That’s great,” Ben chuckled, leading the two towards the cabin that peered over the ominous lake. “Cause the two of you will be staying here, so get used to it.”

Sam and Colby glance at each other for a moment, following Ben towards the door. As they entered, they studied the room. It wasn’t one of their Airbnbs, but it was still nice, grateful for a roof and not a tent.

Colby’s eyes slowly averted towards the window, as if an irresistible force was pulling him towards the lake. But swiftly pulled away at the pat on his shoulder, facing towards the grasp.

“Isn’t that right, Colby?” Sam asked him, confusing Colby.

“Huh? Oh yeah, for sure.” Colby randomly replied, going along with Sam’s story.

“Alright, I’ll let ya get to it then,” Ben sighed, making his way toward the entrance. “I’ll come back in the morning to check on y’all. Remember to check the list I left every night.” He pointed out.

Once Ben had exited the campground, leaving the duo alone in the woods. Colby let out a breath as he planted himself onto one bed, rubbing his eyes slightly.

“Well, what did you want to start with?” Sam asked, plopping next to him. “Did you want to do the intro or do more research?”

Colby peaked from his hands, looking towards Sam. “Uh, let’s just figure out our intro and record that, followed by more research,” he answered.

They didn’t waste any time, every minute counted for them. Considering the way the sun crept through the blinds and curtains, the time was very limited. Colby’s fingers started to cramp from the various writing and typing, along with the migraine sneaking in.

“That’s it,” Colby blurted, tossing the pencil down. “I think it’s time to throw the towel. I need a break.”

“Me too,” Sam sighed. “If I have to write one more thing, my head might explode.”

Colby dryly chuckled, planting himself onto his feet. “I’m just gonna go out onto the pier. I need some time alone.”

He opened the door, letting the cool wind hit his face. He quickly closed the door, walking towards the wooden structure. Colby let out a groan as he crossed his legs, overlooking the large body of water. He ran his hand through his hair, attempting to relax as he listened to the soft music of the forest.

But he lost his train of thought, a splash ringing out. Colby curiously raised his brow, searching for the source of the ripple of water. He focused in on one area, unable to take his eyes off.

Colby soon got interrupted by a ringing from his pocket, pulling his eyes away from the lake. He picked himself off the wobbling planks, retrieving his phone.

“Hello?” he answered, still glancing over towards the ominous lake.

“Colby, get in here,” Sam waved over from the window, still on the line. “I found something.”

Colby hung up the phone call, stuffing the phone back into his pocket. As he entered the cabin, Sam quickly dashed his way and shoved his laptop into Colby’s face.

“Look.” Sam smugly grinned.

Colby looked at his best friend before looking back towards the screen.

‘Sirens in Michigan?’

“Sam,” Colby tried to protest, but Sam was persistent.

“Listen, we hunt ghosts. How much different can this be?” Sam scoffed, attempting to change Colby’s mind. “Can you at least be open to the idea?”

Colby looked at Sam with a blank look, crossing his arms. “Fine, we can be open to the idea, but I’m still skeptical about it all.”

The next day arrived, prompting the boys to prepare their video at last. Colby stood at the edge of the lake, awaiting Sam to finish setting up the camera. Sam gave Colby a thumbs up, signaling everything was ready.

“Hey, what’s up guys!” Sam greeted. “It’s Sam and Colby, and we’re here at the Siren Lake in Michigan!” he panned the camera towards the lake and treeline.

“We’re here to investigate the various spirits that might be roaming the lake,” Colby began explaining. “But also, as the name suggests, there might be more than just spirits here.”

“That’s right guys,” Sam chimed in. “There are supposedly sirens, aka mermaids, in this very lake.”

“If you ask me, I don’t think there’s such a thing,” Colby raised his hands in defense, causing Sam to shake his head. “Listen, ghosts and demons have a lot of proof and we’ve seen them, but mermaids?” Colby scoffed.

“I think you’ll say differently later,” Sam smirked. “Cause one of us is gonna have to go onto the pier and talk to the said spirits or whatever roams that lake.”

The two continued to talk, making their way around the lake for a bit.

“Okay, so the history of this lake begins with a family, as most do,” Sam began. “The Bradson family had owned this lake from generations ago until the 80s.”

“The only reason they had sold it off is because they used to run a camp here until odd drownings had appeared,” Colby added. “And all of them were all men.”

“That doesn’t give us a lot of comfort, does it now?” Sam joked, nervously laughing into the camera.

“Our guide and the owner of the campgrounds will be here in a moment to explain more in-depth,” Colby explained. “He knows more than we do.”

Just in time, a car pulled back onto the dirt road. Ben exited his car, greeting the boys once more.

“Perfect timing,” Sam laughed. “We just began introducing you.”

Ben chuckled, making his way towards the two, “Almost as if I was summoned here.” He joked.

Sam turned on his camera, recording once more, “So actually, as we closed our camera, our guide just pulled in.” He chuckled, pointing it towards Ben. “Say hello to Ben.” He introduced

“Alright, Ben, we just want to know what you know,” Colby started, crossing his arms slightly. “Tell us your secrets.”

“As you must already know, this used to be a campground until the 80s,” Ben began. “Do you know why they call it Siren Lake?” He asked the two.

Sam glanced over to Colby with a grin, causing Colby to roll his eyes.

“Yeah, we might have an idea,” Sam answered.

“Well, people started talking about how the victims were all men,” Ben pointed out. “A rumor started that they were ‘seduced’ over to the water and murdered by a siren.”

“Really? Sirens?” Colby scoffed, laughing a bit.

“Yep, since the lake connects to a river that leads to the ocean, they assumed that something supernatural might cause of this.” Ben chuckled at Colby’s reaction.

“Can you tell Colby is a skeptic about mermaids?” Sam teased.

“Oh, that’s alright, he won’t be by the end of the trip,” Ben replied.

While heading to the pier, Ben entertained the group with tales of the profound history and personal experiences of different individuals.

“So tell us, have you seen the siren?” Sam asked curiously.

Ben thought about it for a moment. “You know, I have,” he nodded. “I was letting a group of guys stay here for the night. I went to check on them and they were freaking out about their friend seeing something. So I went to check out the lake because I figured they saw something and freaked out. But when I stopped at the edge of the pier, I saw something peeking at me through the water.”

“Woah, that’s so weird,” Sam muttered. “What did you do?”

“Well, I thought it was someone playing some joke, so I yelled at them to get out of the water and it was private property.” Ben shrugged. “But they just stared at me for a second so I pointed my flashlight over, which made them go underwater and splash away, and I saw bluish silver scales on the biggest fish's tail I’ve ever seen.”

Sam looked over to Colby, a smug look on his face as if he was saying ‘told you so’.

“I’d be careful, boys,” Ben warned. “Even you, Colby, sirens are no joke. They will lure you and drown you. Just be careful.”

“Thank you, Ben.” Sam thanked him, shaking his hand before letting him return to his daily work.

Sam turned over to Colby, “I told you, what happened to having an open mind?”

“I’m trying, but mermaids? It’s hard to wrap my head around.” Colby responded. “I already have enough of ghosts and demons.”

Sam rolled his eyes at his best friend. “Okay, let’s just talk about the spirits. Surely you’ll keep an open mind about that.” He patted Colby on the back, pulling out the various equipment.

Sam turned on the rem pod, placing it down onto the pier, followed by the Alice box.

“Alright guys, so we’re now gonna talk about the spirits,” Sam sighed. “There were about 3 guys that drowned. They weren’t even able to recover any of their bodies because of how deep this lake is.”

“Yeah, so their bodies could still be down there,” Colby added, shivering at the thought of it.

“There’ are a lot of theories about how these guys died, most of them saying they were drunk or under the influence. There’s also speculation that they died from how cold the water was, causing hypothermia, but of course, there’s the siren theory,” Sam stated. “Sirens, though, tend to just kill to kill. It’s said that it killed them because they were terrible guys.”

“They were awful, apparently having a reputation of being sleazy and gross,” Colby added, having a grimace grow on his face at the idea. “But we’ll try to find out through the spirit box and maybe the Estes method.”

“I think since I’m more open-minded, unlike my colleague,” Sam teased, pointing the camera towards Colby who shook his head. “I’m gonna be doing the Estes method.”

They quickly turned on the devices in hand, thinking of questions.

“Alright, Uh, is there anyone here?” Sam asked to the open, listening carefully as the crickets chirped and the night wind blew past them.

“...you…”

“Who are you referring to?” Sam responded.

“...water…”

“Yep, there’s water here. Is this where you passed away?” Colby nodded, shifting his weight.

“...rocks… drown…”

Sam snapped his head towards Colby, a confused look painted on his face. “Woah,” he muttered. Colby agreed, looking back at the Alice box.

“Who are you? Are you one of three men that drowned here?” Sam added, biting his lip as he rubbed his chin with his finger.

“...Mike…”

Colby’s jaw dropped, facing the camera. "They're not gonna believe that, but one of the men who passed away was named Micheal Anderson," Colby said, his jaw dropping as he faced the camera.

“...unknown…cold…”

Sam’s face contorted to one of confusion, looking at Colby for answers. “Maybe they’re saying they don’t remember how they died? I mean, the water gets freezing.”

Colby nodded, attempting to decipher the various words and their meanings. “Can you tell us what happened? Did you guys just die from the cold water or drown from drinking too much?”

“...none…strange…”

“Huh, maybe the siren theory was right?” Sam nudged Colby.

“Yeah right,” Colby sneered. “Maybe they died from something else.”

“...careful…”

“Look, it’s even trying to warn us,” Sam pointed out, but soon the familiar red light and blaring sound appeared from the rem pod, alerting the two. “Oh my god, that scared the fuck out of me,” Sam murmured, pointing the camera towards the flashing device.

“Is that you Micheal? Or is someone else making that flash?” Colby asked, stepping away from the rem pod as the light continued to circle.

“...pussy…”

Colby blurted out in laughter, followed by Sam. “Wow, maybe they were jerks.”

“I think maybe the Estes Method will give us a simple answer then,” Sam said, calming down from the fit of laughter.

Colby turned off the spirit box, handing Sam the bandana followed by the headphones. Once he had put them on, Colby showed the camera that Sam couldn’t respond.

“Okay, so let’s begin,” Colby sighed. “Okay, can you give us a straightforward answer to what happened here? You guys are being very hush-hush about the answer.”

“Pier,” Sam blurted out. “Something dangerous.”

“Yeah, some can say drinking and swimming are dangerous,” Colby joked. “Can you clarify more?”

“Beware of the woman,” Sam answered.

Colby felt his heart drop, unable to comprehend what that could mean. “Uh, what woman?”

“She calls for you,” Sam responded, confusion in his voice. “Watching you.”

A shiver ran down Colby’s spine, goosebumps covering his skin. “W-Wha… Watching me?” Colby repeated, hearing the familiar splashing near the pier.

Colby snapped his head up, his eyes attempting to adjust to the dark as the moonlight hit the ripples. Colby pointed his flashlight over to the deep gray water, searching for the source, just as he had done earlier in the day.

Sam continued to speak, unknowing of his best friend’s search. Colby’s feet stopped at the edge of the pier, ignoring all the sounds in the background. He let out a sigh of relief, unable to find any evidence of anything going on.

But as soon as Colby put down his flashlight, he felt large hands pressed up against his back. Colby, unable to retain his balance, fell into the deep cold waters, which had created a large splash that traveled to Sam.

Sam tore the headphones and blindfold off his head, turning around to look at Colby as he floated to the top.

“Woah, you alright, man?” Sam hurried to the edge, squatting down as he offered a hand to him.

Colby let out a laugh, swimming towards the pier. “Someone fucking pushed me in.” He muttered, reaching for Sam’s grasp.

He was about to grab Sam’s palm, but felt a tug at the end of his legs. “What the fuck, something grabbed-”

Colby’s sentence soon cut off as he got pulled under the water. He kicked the unknown entity, gasping for air as he heard Sam’s voice muffle as he called out for him.

Colby thrashed, adrenaline kicking in as he attempted to free himself. Colby looked down at the void of the lake, unable to find the source. Water filled his mouth, oxygen slowly escaping his body. His body sank, and the energy to fight slowed.

Colby had accepted there wasn’t a way out of this doom, looking up as he slowly descended into the seemingly never-ending waters. His vision slowly distorted as he examined the murky waters above him.

“Wow, I never realized it was a full moon tonight,” was all he could think about

Just as he thought it was the end, he saw something move out of the corner of his eye. A figure slowly circled him as it made its way past the moonlit waters, a glow of bluish silver reflecting as its hair sprawled around it.

Well, it wasn’t rather it; it was a woman. Colby wanted to react, but his body slowly shut down as his vision darkened. She was beautiful, her skin flawless and her long hair engulfing them as she touched his face as if she examined his features.

Colby’s vision became dark, becoming unconscious. She doesn’t remember men being this flawless, gliding her fingers across his skin. His tattoos caught her eye, something odd about painting skin to her. A frown grew on her face, looking back up at the land above as blue and red lights danced around the surface of the water.

She looked back at Colby, knowing the minutes were passing by. She quickly grabbed his arm, carrying his limp body up. Peeking over the water, she glanced around at the various people walking around. She bit her lip, brainstorming ideas.

The mermaid decided it was best to leave him by the shore, where Sam was pacing and freaking out. She knows if she does this, who knows if her identity will be safe? But something against her nature knew this one thing: she did not want the beautiful man to perish.

She drew him above the water, grunting as she pulled his seemingly lifeless body towards the wet rocks. She looked back at him, her brows furrowing as she fought within herself whether she did the right thing. Under the water once more, she dove, splashing as she vanished, making her way under the pier to observe the scene.

It wasn’t long until many flashlights lit up the shore, revealing Colby’s drenched and pale body. Sam let out a cry, watching as his best friend coughed and gasped for air as the water exited his lungs. Sam embraced him, relief washing over him as he recovered from his accident.

Colby sat at the edge of the patient compartment of the ambulance, wrapped in a towel, drowning out as the EMTs and various cops talked to Sam as he stared towards the lake. Something inside him was fighting whether he had made up the mysterious creature or, by some miracle, it was all true.

Colby jumped as Sam’s hand landed on his shoulder. “Dude, what the hell happened? I thought you were gone. The cops said you were lucky to even make it out of that lake.”

Colby looked up at Sam before glancing back at the body of water. “I think a mermaid just saved me.”

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

thank you guys for reading!

I'm sorry if it's short, Its just something I put together in one day. I do value your opinion, so please do tell me what you think!!

expect more stories soon!

#colby brock #colby brock fanfic #colby brock imagine #colby brock smut #colby brock x reader #colby brock x y/n #sam and colby #sam golbach #xplr #sam golbach x reader #jake webber #jake and johnnie #johnnie guilbert #xplr merch #xplr club #colby #sam goldbach

549 notes · View notes