Tumgik
#i’m not expecting it to blow up or anything
pandorasfavorite · 1 day
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heyyyy sooo I’ve been thinking about this forever as my pre fall asleep routine, I was gonna make it into my own full blown fan fic on Wattpad but I’ve never wrote before and I’m kinda lazy lol buttt I was wondering could you do a imagine where the reader is a female and in the shield (imagine the shield and judgement day are around at the same time) and anyways they are fighting the judgement day and they hate each other but the reader sees dom take a really hard blow and runs to check on him in the middle of the match but it’s a trick and dom pins her and wins , then later that night when they are in their locker rooms Roman Seth and dean are all fighting and mad at the reader and yelling at her , and like she leaves the locker room upset and dom sees and goes to apologize and it’s like angst but she forgives him at the end plzzzzz <333 I love love love ur writing
The Shield - The Mistake
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AN: I'm working two jobs so posts will be slow. pls, bear with me through these hard times frl.
You loved your life, your group, the outfits, the vibe, and everything presented in front of you. Most of all you loved Seth, Roman, and Dean; they were family from the moment you joined the group. Though when you joined the group they were apprehensive, to say the least, ultimately they all admitted it was the best decision they've made collectively. But all of you had a swore hatred towards the Judmentday. They were too loud; too much; and too fucking cocky in your opinion. Now the boys were completely thorough in their dislike; you on the other hand...had a childlike crush on Dominik Mysterio.
It made no sense to you honestly, he was just as much of a dick as the rest of the group, but he seemed kind underneath it all. Like maybe it wasn't in his nature to be so disrespectful. But Monday night proved you wrong.
It was destined to be a long match, one where the groups would go act each other until everyone was worn out and restless. Despite how good The Judgement Day was, you had the intention to win. In fact, you had no doubt that you would win. So when you and Seth were inside the ring together, bouncing around, Dominik and Damian were trying to find the best way to stop you both from hitting them. Damian took a kick; from you; to the chest and stumbled back for a moment. But Dominik was slammed directly onto his back and he was completely winded. Dominik had gritted his teeth and held his chest, just barely rolling to the side to cover himself. It looked so real and the concern you felt only made the facade more convincing.
You ignored everything around you like an idiot; you had forgotten the nature of, The Judgement Day. You skidded down on your knees beside Dominik, and you grabbed him by the arm to roll him over. The second you did his eyes flashed open and his hand went against your shoulder just as fast. He pushed you down and pinned you with no problems; you weren't in pain. More so just paralyzed in shock. At the 3rd count and ring of the bell, Dominik shot up with a victorious smile and went to celebrate with his group. While you sat up and smacked the ring; now you were pissed. Anything you felt for Dominik had disappeared at his stupid stupid trick.
You looked up to exactly what you expected, Roman glaring, Dean running his hands down his face in disappointment, and Seth shaking his head.
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"You have to be fucking kidding me", Dean just about snarled at you. You open your mouth to speak but Seth cuts you off before you even begin, "What happened?". Your mouth opens again only to be interrupted once again, "I think it's pretty clear, she has the hots for that dick" Dean scoffs. You glare at him, "He is not a dick" you mumble. Somehow you found yourself defending him after what he had done. "Really? Then what just happened out there?!", Roman says while making intense eye contact with you. You felt like you were in some kind of intervention at the moment. They all looked at you; waiting for you to say something; anything.
"I don't know", you mumbled and looked at the floor like a coward. You had already felt bad for causing the match, but of course, this hurt worse than that and 100 injuries combined. "We needed you and you go check on the enemy!", Dean has begun yelling now and took a step closer to make it clear he was talking to you. Roman puts his hand out across Dean's chest and shakes his head much like before. You snap your head up to look at Dean and the burning of tears has just started, "He's not the enemy!!", you yell back at him.
"He is!", Dean snarls. You cross your arms and argue back, "He's not". Seth finally cuts in, "But The Judgment Day is?" he questions. You deflate and puff out your cheeks; "That's different", your back to mumbling. "It's not" Roman cuts in and it finally seems like that's all they had left to say. Dean scoffs and just walks away, Roman follows after him without a glance. But Seth pats you on the shoulder with a disappointed look before walking the same. You bang your hand on the wall and curse at yourself for fucking up so badly.
That loss will be the talk of the month, The Shield has never lost to The Judgment Day; at least not until tonight. You walked out of the locker room but your mind felt as heavy as your steps. You had to sit down, but when you walked out and slouched on the wall beside the locker room. You saw the same Dominik Mysterio sitting on the floor, on the other side of the wall, right in front of you. You looked at him with glossy eyes and longing. Even after thinking all the feelings you held for him were lost, not only did your heart beat faster but you had defended him minutes prior. Dominik bit his lip and scratched his eyebrow, "I heard what all you said in there" he commented.
Your lip curled in anger, "Yea? Then you should've heard how much shit you got me into" you spat and pulled your knees closer to your chest. Dominik had only nodded, but he looked up at you front behind his wispy hair; "I didn't ask you to check on me". You roll your eyes like your intention was obvious, "It was the right thing to do" you said quickly. "That's not it", Dominik said right after you.
The hallway was vacant and the space between you both was so vast. You felt as if you could drift away from him at any moment. You also felt like the tears in your eyes had a long time from drying. Though for some reason Dominik made it feel a little better.
From Dominik's point of view, he sees a woman struggling with the mistake of helping an asshole, also known as himself. He felt so bad, and The Judgement Day could never know he was apologizing or a win. For you, nearly everything felt worth it.
Your eyebrows pull in and you squint at him, "What?". "You didn't check on Damian when he fell to the floor at the beginning, so that's not why", he had analyzed your every movement. You clenched your jaw; looked at him and then back down at your lap, "I have no clue what you're talking about". Dominik bit the inside of his cheek and nodded; it felt like you were lying to him, but he had no proof of that at the end of the day. "Well I wanted to say sorry anyways", he muttered; almost like apologizing was something he rarely did. Maybe that was so.
You heard his apology and your lips twitched into a smile while you were still looking down, "You are?". Dominik nodded but you couldn't see, so he reiterated; "That's what I said". And finally, as if it was a miracle you looked up once again, "Smart ass". He laughs with a big smile that you only had the pleasure of seeing on the big screen. You click your tongue at him and lay your chin on your knees, "So you feel bad huh?", you pester him. Dominik snorts and rolls his eyes, running a hand through his hair, "Just a bit...how can I make it up to you", he says the last bit with hesitance. He has underlying intentions that he couldn't share yet. "What do you have in mind?"
"How about dinner, Hermosa"
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doodle-pops · 3 days
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House of Fingolfin | Getting Into a Fight For Their S/O
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A/N: Finally decided to continue more headcanons for the other elves.
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˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡˚. Fingolfin
He’s proper and never one for engaging in any physical altercations even if the situation escalated. Fingolfin is someone who would allow his men to dispose of the individual who dared to step to his level.
However, when the unknown situation arises and the need to become violent is necessary, I’m not sure who’s the one to put a leash on this terror of an elf, but it’s definitely more than five guards to hold him back from damaging the elf who spat absurdities at his family or you.
He’s made up of pure strength so brute force he required to drag him away from lunging at the ellon. Your appearance would assist in diluting his temper, drawing his focus to you and not the pulp of an elf lying on the floor.
Fingolfin would have landed hits to the elf, so his knuckles would be bruised, this you would nurse back to health while silently brooding and muttering under his breath at the speed of light.
You don’t pick up on anything he’s cursing on and on about, but you know it’s based on the situation. Just give him some kisses on his face and lead him far away to blow some steam off.
Take him for a long walk away from the kingdom and have him kick some rocks like a child. He’ll surely calm down after a week. “Have you calmed down yet?” “I’ve always been calm,” he says as his eye twitches.
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˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡˚. Fingon
Can appear impulsive when he isn’t thinking right, but like his father, Fingon’s a composed individual and refuses to throw the first fist for something that can be solved otherwise. His solution is to walk away or laugh it off, which probably provokes the other person to take insulting jabs at those precious to him.
It’s gonna take a lot to make him lunge at the individual, preferably, the latter being the one to throw the first hit leaving him with no choice but to defend himself. In that moment, you can bet all his frustration would come pouring out.
The entire scene is unusual, watching Fingon engage in a physical altercation with a random elf which leads to everyone knowing it’s something serious and rushing to pull him away. It’ll take just Maedhros or Turgon to tug Fingon off the battered ellon.
To you, the scene is horrifying after watching a gentle–natured elf engaged in a fight. You know he’s not thinking straight with fury in his mind, so it’s for you to step in and dissolve his temper with soothing words and touches to his face. His siblings would stand guard, unsure of whether he’d break away.
For starters, he’s ashamed that you witnessed him so unhinged and would rather disappear for days into weeks before confronting you. It’s for you to ensure him that you don’t hate him for it. You have to hold him down and tend to his wounds while listening to his endless apologies.
Make him feel better with lots of cuddles and spending time with him away from everyone. “Come for some love, Finno,” you say as he wastes no time in running over to snuggle into your arms.
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˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡˚. Turgon
Not the last person anyone would suspect to throw a fist, but the first person due to his cold temperament and judgemental persona. His temper is unmatched and will not hesitate to connect his fist with someone disrespecting him and his family.
I don’t believe anyone will survive his punches but let’s pretend this person does to receive a few more to create a brawl and you can witness Turgon becoming absolutely unhinged. It is quite easy to rile him up into becoming physically involved, yes, he would prefer to walk away but not when the disrespect is unspeakable.
Maybe his father has to pull him off or his brothers and cousins all together because like his father, he has the strength to match his stature. Turgon is a brute force of nature, so kudos to whoever is on the receiving end. However, what makes his attack dangerous is his stealth.
No one expects him to openly throw a hit because one minute he’s laughing and the next he’s on the floor beating someone up. Like?? It’s not a pleasant sight for you to witness though you’re aware of his sizzling temper and his bitter tongue. Plus, he probably got into fights as a child so it’s natural.
The only time you can approach him is when he’s already dragged off and in the healing wing being persecuted by his father (if he’s around). Your appearance would be the ice he needs to completely dissolve. He isn’t going to forget (this man holds grudges), but he’ll follow you as long as it’s far away from the altercation.
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Take him on a random spur-of-the-moment holiday and pamper him like a baby. Of course, you will have to prepare yourself for hearing him complain about the incident. Every. Single. Day. “Are you finished Káno?” “...No.”
˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡˚. Argon
It physically pains me to imagine this beanstalk engaging in a physical altercation with someone, however, he is described as impudent, so there you have it. Argon will throw around his fist like his older brother to beat some fool to a pulp for insulting his friends and family, and you.
He doesn’t want to hear a reason for why he shouldn’t do what he did, all he knows is that the elf said disrespectful comments and deserved to be handled with extra care. There’s no stopping Argon when he starts, given his hunk of a structure which has muscles to accompany his frame.
Definitely get the family to separate him from the perpetrator because he isn’t budging from his spot. They can pry him off and he’d slip away to finish what he started because he’s fighting them to let him go. You got to stand between him and the bruised ellon on the floor to catch his attention.
Talk sweetly to him, call his name—slip in a nickname—to soothe his unhinged nature. Reach for his hands and tug him away from the scene, telling him everything will be alright, and his family will take care of the rest.
Spend the time cleaning his wounds and littering kisses to his bruises. Use this moment to incorporate a ton of affection; maybe every time he feels angry, give him a kiss and a hug. Don’t think you’re escaping his grasp once he becomes aware of the affections you’re bequeathing.
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Like many others, shame becomes him, and he’ll endlessly apologise for the manner in which you saw him behaving, promising to never act impulsively like that again without gauging the situation firsthand.
“It’s alright, Káno. You were simply being my hero, defending me from those naysayers. Now come for some kisses.”
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raeathnos · 4 months
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#I will never fail to understand my parents logic#tarp blew off my husband’s broken down car yesterday#they waited until it was dark out to tell him#there’s a forest out back and so my husband rightfully tells them that that’s not 100% safe he’ll do it in the morning#he forgets which like okay#but then they don’t say anything to him and instead say something to me at 10pm as I’m about to go to bed#and get huffy when I tell them that’s not safe one of us will do it in the morning#‘we told him that yesterday and he didn’t do it and now you’re not either’#yeah because we live at the edge of a forest and I’m not going out on the poorly lit back street at night#also like this is the first I’m hearing of this so like#idk they wanted it done yesterday and I’m only just hearing of it now idk what they expected#also like people forget sometimes my husband isn’t purposefully not putting the tarp back#‘he should have done it when it was still light out’ yeah but he forgot#and while I appreciate them reminding about it#it’s not helpful that they’re giving me attitude about something I’m only just learning about#and it’s not helpful that they’ve been upset about it all day and choose not to say anything until 10pm once again#idk what kind of fucking weird logic they run on#but they pull this crap all the time and I’m tired#it’s not even a big deal tbh and they’re blowing it up and making us sound lazy and ungrateful and I’m just#it’s his car if anything he’ll get a ticket not them#like chill tf out#not putting the tarp back is a character flaw apparently#pls stop
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deathshallbenomore · 1 year
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opsie i might be a sunnier and warmer person than expected
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dadbots · 4 months
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Happy holidays / Yule / upcoming traditions. 🖤
#dadbots.txt#its been a rough month so far. not necessarily due to seasonal but overall changes for the better or worst.#While I /did/ managed to recover from my sinuses after 2-3 weeksish. I’m just not doing well still and it’s been a fuck of a rollercoaster.#I’m so tired. again. Just not a great end to this year. But hey - you win some you lose some. And other days to try again#Many adaptations been made but it’s not really repairing anything. Just kinda a bandaid on it and hope the wound heals if that make sense.#& made such a dumb move. But with so many people telling me to wait it out and said thing would change ended up being the exact same.#And I feel stupid for it. I knew better and yet — same thing. Which fuckin blows but okay. Whatever. At least I can’t lie and said I didn’t#- try at all yknow. I mean I did. It’s something. So guess we’re moving on from that experience. And that’s that#My progress is fluctuating like hell and back this year. I expected much and need to figure out what needs to go & needs to stay in my life#- Almost similar to spring cleaning. Whatever goes goes and whatever stays. Well. Stays if it benefits me or improve somehow#Hopefully it’d solve some of the negativity and awful energy going on. Some areas aren’t as easy or possible for personal reasons.#- but sometimes you gotta put your foot down and just do it. Whether that’s one step at a time or one big 360 and hope all goes well.#I need to be more persistent in my life concerning certain things. And others where I just need to learn to let go. Ignore it. Gone.#There’s just so much I need to do. From getting back on track. Working on things I’ve put off for years now. Adapting and improving.#- balance. Control. List could go on and on. But I did what I could this year. A lot of improvement. And while it kinda went down the draib#- after slipping into old habits again - at least I know I could improve in some way. I did it before. It /did/ work b4 longterm episodes#- and that’s worth a lot. Considering it’s something I talked about but couldn’t do at that time. Or just never did.#An accomplishment I had for this year. Now to see what else I can work on.
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tetsuskei · 5 months
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You can’t expect your fic to blow up within the hour 😭 give people time to read it
yes i am not expecting for it to blow up in an hour, 8 notes is just a lil discouraging!
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hqkalon · 7 months
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𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 | jjk men
cont. smutty smut ofc (: , petnames, teasing, orgasm denial, edging (in a way idk), g-spot, explicit +17 || pairings : toji, nanami, getou, gojo anc sukuna
an : not proofread LOL, please ignore any writing errors :p
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𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 his idea of a “playful” time, cock buried inside your aching cunt as he just watched you squirm trying to reposition yourself within his lap. purposely angling his hips into your sweet spot, “quit squirmin’ and watch the movie pretty girl.” he knew it was hard for you to focus on the movie, the only thing you could focus on was him balls deep inside you, “can’t right now.” you mumbled with the back of your hand against your mouth. how did he expect you to focus in a situation like this?
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 “yeah. we need a project manger.” nanami spoke through his head seat, dragging his mouse along the mousepad while right-clicking. “nanamiii!” you whined, straddling him in shared chair with his length filling your walls. “not now baby, i’m working.” his lips brushed against your forehead with an arm around your waist. “please.” the corners of your lips curled downwards. nanami hasn’t shown you any attention for the past week because of his “busy” schedule— repositioning his hips, pressing against your g-spot. “f-fuckk.” you grind down onto him, “better?” he questioned with his eyes never leaving the screen.
𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 it's a challenge for the both of you. gojo wants to see if he could last longer than you and depending on who lasts the longest will be victorious. though, he cheats his way through the entire time by grinding you onto his lap. making sure you can't squirm away from anything he gives you, "gojo stop cheating." you hum trying to angle your hips differently, "what?" he frown acting innocent as if he hasn't did anything, before thrusting upwards into your plush walls. "shitt." your tummy tighten as his dick dragged along your sensitive walls. "i guess i won, right?" he cheekily grinned.
𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 / 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 an absolute menace. he repeatedly thrusts up, watching your face twist in pleasure as you jolt with each thrust. not really what you would call "cockwarming", but he completely stops his stokes the second he feel you tighten around his cock. "i said no cumming doll." a hand landed a harsh blow to the fat of you ass, which only makes turns you on more. "i-im not g'na cum." you whined into the crook of his neck, feeling a buzz of pleasure spew through you core as he grinded against your sweet spot— keeping your lower half in place. "that's a good girl." the corners of his lips curled upwards.
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seravphs · 11 months
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ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GOJO SATORU x FEM READER
Gojo “my girl is mad at me I hope I die” Satoru
wc — 600
tags — fluff, companion piece to modern intimacy so you’re also married in this one, love as annoyance 
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Gojo looks like he tried to drown himself in the shower. 
If you hadn’t just mopped the floor, you might be tempted to give in and beckon him over to cuddle. As it is, your annoyance is only mildly tempered by how adorable he is. You suspect this was his plan all along. 
“Go dry your hair,” you tell him coldly, hardly even giving him a glance after his first step into the room. 
He pouts, which you were expecting. He should really learn some new tricks at this point. You make a shooing gesture at him to drive home the point. 
Instead, he clambers down next to your feet, all six feet and two inches of him compressed down to fit his head into your lap. Gojo’s so lanky it gives you the impression of a Jenga tower collapsing in on itself to watch him get on his knees. 
“But you’re mad at me,” he whines. Chilly droplets are seeping into your thighs. 
“I’ll be madder if you keep getting my pants wet. Go on, you’ll catch a cold.” 
“I deserve it.” 
“Gojo.” 
You say it as if you’re short of patience, when really, you’re far from it. You’re enjoying this way too much. 
He turns his head so he can look up at you. His hair falls into his eyes, making him look like a sad, wet puppy, shivering at your feet for mercy. It’s an act, of course. 
He’s the strongest man in the world. Still, you feel your heart melting as you would for any poor abandoned creature. You brush his bangs out of his face, trying to hold onto your weakening resolve. 
He knows he’s got you. It’s just a matter of time. 
“I can’t live with myself,” he says. “If you’re going to be mad at me, you should just kill me. It would be easier-“ 
“Don’t be dramatic,” you say, but that’s when he strikes the killing blow. 
He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just looks at you with eyes that are suspiciously shiny, his pretty pink lips in a soft frown. You sigh and put the book you were trying to read down. 
“Go get the hairdryer.” 
Gojo perks up immediately. You stay on the sofa. He sits on the ground between your legs as you run your hands through his hair, moving section by section. It fluffs up as hot air moves over it. 
“Are you still mad?” 
“Want to take a guess?” 
He turns around so fast he almost hits himself in the face with the hairdryer in your hand. 
“I’ll never do it again, I swear.” 
“You swear?” You’re teasing. 
Gojo places one hand over his heart and raises the other like he’s making a pledge. You’re the only nation he’d ever devote himself to, anyway. “You know my motto is happy wife, happy life.” 
“I don’t know, actually.” You laugh. “Did you just come up with that?” 
“Now you’re just being mean,” he says. 
“I’m glad you picked up on it,” you say dryly. 
You like him pathetic. It appeals to your worst nature, the one that kind of wants to pinch him just to see him cry. You don’t know when you developed such feelings, and you’re certainly not sadistic towards anyone else, but Gojo just provokes you. It’s what he does. He’s good at being annoying. 
But you love that part of him, just as much as you love the part of him that can’t live without your attention. 
“You really learned your lesson?” You ask. “You won’t do it again?” 
“And go through this again? You kidding?” 
You pinch his cheek in annoyance, but he just laughs and wraps his arms around you, ignoring the way you try to wriggle away. 
“Your hair isn’t dry yet!”
“Doesn’t matter,” he says, rubbing his cheek against yours. His shampoo smells good. “Happy husband, happy wife.” 
He knows you too well for you to disagree. 
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peachesofteal · 5 months
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Light on - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader Prompt: You ask Simon to babysit for you last minute. For @that-fangirl-1106 and three anons
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“Thank you so, so much. I owe you.” 
Simon stops short at your door, brows raising in surprise. He expected to see you in your ‘house clothes’ as you call them, leggings, or an old pair of jeans with a t shirt. Instead, you’re wearing a skirt, a short skirt, swell of your breasts just visible inside the V of your shirt, and his stomach twists, confusion thrumming in his veins. What is this? Where are you going? When you called and asked him to help you watch Emma for a bit, he just assumed it was so you could run some errands or something, take some time for yourself. Not for… whatever this is. 
You’ve got Emmaline on your hip, waist curved to accommodate her, and she’s babbling at you with a happy smile.  
“Are you sure it’s not an inconvenience? My sitter bailed last minute.” The door lock clicks into place behind him, and he holds his tongue, stopping the flow of one hundred questions, biting down on the urge to pull you into his chest and tell you- you’re not actually going anywhere. 
Would you agree? Would you look up at him with that sweet, beautiful face, and tell him that you won’t? That you’ll stay here, with him, instead. Where you belong.
“Simon?” Shit.
“It’s fine. I’m happy to help.” Emma coos, looking up at him, little legs wriggling in her onesie and his heart thumps a little harder, the green poison of jealously cooling just slightly when he realizes it doesn’t matter where you’re going. You’ll be coming home to him, and Emmaline, at the end of your night. 
Still. He has to ask. He has to know. 
“Where are you going?” You hand the baby to him, clucking softly, rubbing your fingers through her wispy crop of curls. 
“Out with this guy I met!” You’re excited, practically beaming, and your fingers find the hem of your shirt, anxiously plucking at it. “It’s been a while since like-“ you stop yourself, embarrassment heating your face, and you clear your throat. “No one’s asked me on a date in a while. Single moms aren’t really… a hot commodity.” His stomach clenches at the idea of another man thinking you’re a hot anything, let alone even looking in your direction. 
“Where are you going? Who is he?” 
“To the little Thai spot on seventh.” You give him an odd look. “And he’s a guy I met at the library.” 
“The library?” 
“Yeah, during story time.” You’re pulling a jacket on, and he clenches his jaw so tight he could chew through concrete. “Alright, baby, love you.” You step into his orbit, dab of perfume still wet on your neck, heat pressing into his side when you bend to kiss Emma on her forehead. Your hand brushes his against her back, something clouding your gaze when you look up into his face, something hopeful and honeyed sweet, with just a glimpse of longing, enough that blood roars in his ears. 
He should ask you to stay, tell you he’ll take you instead. Or take you somewhere better, take you anywhere you want to go. 
But he doesn’t. Instead, he watches you slip out the front door, blowing the baby in his arms one last kiss goodnight with a wave of your palm.
An hour later, a key scrapes against the metal of the lock. He’s got Emmaline and her favorite stuffed giraffe in his arms, walking circles in the kitchen, bouncing her lightly to try to soothe her pre bedtime tears, a normal routine he’s seen you do more than once. 
You slip through the door with a whispered apology, tired eyes rimmed in red. 
“Hey.” You reach for Emma, giving her a big smile and holding her to your chest, little kisses from your lips dotting her head, her cheeks. Your eyes slip closed, tension sagging from your shoulders, and he frowns, 
“What happened?” 
“Nothing. He uh, didn’t show.” Oh, sweetheart. You shrug, brushing it off. “But that’s okay, isn’t it?” you coo at Emma, smoothing a hand up and down her back. “Yeah, that’s okay. Mum doesn’t need anyone but you, huh Emmaline?” You say something about putting her to bed, and he barely hears you, too busy thinking about finding the piece of shit that decided to stand you up and breaking every bone in his body. 
You reappear once you’ve got her down, and he still hasn’t made himself scarce, lingering in your kitchen, hands in his pockets. He feels out of place, heart panging at the dejected look at your face. 
“Fuck that guy.” He grunts, and you crack a smile, tucking your arms around yourself. “He’s an idiot.” 
“Yeah.” You’re sullen, rejected, and it makes his blood boil, rage coursing through him knowing that someone made you feel less than the wonder you are. “Thanks for… I guess hanging out with her for a little while, at least. It was really nice of you.” 
“Anytime.” The kitchen is silent for a moment, reflecting your somber mood, and just as he’s about to tell you how stupid that guy is, how much of fool he is to not see what he missed out on, how much he didn’t deserve a single second of your time, you sigh out a whispered confession. 
“I guess it was pretty stupid.” 
“What was stupid, sweetheart?” 
“Going on a date when I have a baby at home. Thinking someone would even want a single mom with a baby at home.” You roll your eyes. “You know, as soon I got out the door, I was thinking about coming back? Couldn’t stop thinking about her. Wishing I was hanging out with my own daughter, and you… instead of going on a date.” His heart latches onto your words, hoarding them close, trying to memorize them so he can recall every syllable when he closes his eyes tonight. 
“That’s not stupid.” He wants to comfort you, promise you that it’s the farthest thing from stupid. 
“Maybe. Either way doesn’t matter, right? I got stood up.” You wince. 
“Whoever he is, he doesn’t deserve a minute of your time.” Your lips part, a little stunned by the steadfast vow, before splitting into a delicate smile, and your head ducks. 
“Thanks, Simon.” 
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eternalxvenus · 1 month
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ broken promises pt. 1 ࿐ྂ
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summary: Rafe promised to take you out and spend your birthday with you, but you don’t hear from him all day and then suddenly he shows up at your door trying to explain. (angst version to my first birthday girl blurb) (title changed for series — previous title “birthday girl angst version”)
cw (for whole series): 18+, rafe x f!reader, mentions of drug use, angst, eventual smut, violence
wc: 0.6k
notes: honestly i’m thinking about making this particular blurb a series but i’m not sure though
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You woke up on your birthday excited to get your day started. Your boyfriend Rafe told you the day before he would pick you up for brunch, and then you would spend the day doing whatever you wanted.
By the time you showered and were ready to go, your stomach was growling, prepared to have some delicious food. You checked your phone and saw the time read 10:45. Rafe said that he'd be here by 11:00.
30 minutes later, you hadn't heard anything from Rafe, so you decided to call him. Each of your calls went straight to voicemail. You were starting to get worried, so you decided to check social media and see if he may have posted anything. You clicked on Kelce's close friend's story and saw a party happening at his house. A few videos later, you saw one of Rafe doing coke off the table in front of him.
Your eyes start to water. He had promised you that he would stop doing drugs when you guys started dating. You knew it made him irritable and hard to be around. It also made him forgetful, which means he was probably high out of his mind somewhere and probably doesn't remember he promised to take you to brunch. Or the fact that it's your birthday.
You wipe the few stray tears off your cheek, careful not to ruin your makeup, before calling Sarah, inviting her and the pogues to have breakfast with you at your place. When you asked her about Rafe, she said she hadn't spoken to him and didn't know where he was.
-
The time was currently 10:22 pm, and you had just gotten home from your birthday dinner with your family. Rafe was supposed to be there too, but you had to lie and say he hadn't been feeling well. You could barely enjoy yourself. You still hadn't gotten so much as a text from him.
You slipped off your heels, but before you could make it up the stairs there was a ring at your doorbell. You opened the door to see Rafe standing there with flowers in hand.
"What do you want, Rafe?" You really didn't want to sit around and listen to his excuses.
"Baby, I'm sorry, really. Just please let me explain."
You scoffed but leaned against your doorframe, prompting him to keep going.
"Okay, so Kelce was throwing this party, and I wasn't going to go, but everyone kept messaging me saying I should at least swing by and everything since they hadn't seen me in a while. I went and it was supposed to be no more than 15 minutes, but things got out of hand..."
"Yeah Rafe, things got out of hand as in you stayed at the party and started doing fucking coke? Out of hand as in you got so high you didn't text me all day, on my birthday, while I'm worried sick about you?"
Rafe's eyes widened, obviously not expecting you to know about that. He outstretched his hand that was holding the flowers to you. "Baby I... I'm sorry. I can take you shopping to make up for-"
You smacked the flowers out of his hand and he flinched. Your voice was shaky as tears pooled in your eyes. "No Rafe! Money isn't going to fix this. Obviously, I'm not important enough for you to keep your promise. Getting high means more to you than being there for your girlfriend."
Before he could speak again, you slammed the door in his face and made your way upstairs even as he started to talk to you through the door before moving on to blowing up your phone. You blocked his number and went to bed, unsure of what was next for your relationship.
part 2
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princessbrunette · 2 months
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sleepy n thinkin ab using rafe while he’s on game!!
he’s too focused to care that you’re just so needy for him, whining and crying because you want him so bad till it gets to the point where you’re splayed in front of him, panties gone n rubbing yourself on his bulge just to feel a little bit better!!
⛸️✧˖°❅🤍
something about his nonchalance only further riles you up. he dodges around your head when you straddle him— hot in the face and teary eyed. you’d become tired of being ignored, but that romantic sickness that swirled in your stomach betrays you, and you miss him despite his presence being so close physically. he’s right there, but he hasn’t so much as glanced at you in hours.
his bulge presents itself to you. it’s always there, thick and prominent in any pair of slacks he wears, even clear in the old pair of grey sweatpants he wears to bed. you wondered why rafe never would be caught dead in the casual garment, being such a popular clothing item to sport among guys his age — and aside from his attachment to old money and being a ‘grown man’, maybe he wouldn’t wear sweatpants out doors because he was afraid of showing too much. after all, you could practically see each vein in his cock through the material.
if ignoring you for a screen wasn’t enough, he wears a headset today too. he’s not even a gamer, he wouldn’t call himself one anyway — viewing it as a hobby to be juvenile and time wasting. however; he was a sucker for 2K, coarse thumbs dashing across joysticks as he swears into the mic, undoubtably bossing topper or kelce about, telling them to pull their weight. classic rafe.
your legs are split either side of him as you find solace in the warm skin of his neck, peeking from the blue t-shirt he wears. he doesn’t mind you, it’s nothing he’s not used to anyway — your clingy and grabby ways catching up with you after an evening of being pretty much ignored for his friends and virtual characters on a screen. you’ve soaked yourself, it’s embarrassing really — how much watching your boyfriend relax and blow off steam can rile you up. like previously mentioned, it’s the lack of acknowledgment too. at this point, you’d do anything to appoint the attention to yourself.
“careful, baby.” is all he offers, barely opening his mouth to say it as he concentrates on the screen. you respond with a pleased hum as you grind on his bulge and he adjusts his headset, sitting up a little straighter with paranoia that his friends might hear. despite this, he continues to play — and you continue to hump him.
it’s clear it feels good for him too, because whilst he outwardly ignores you— he leans back, licking his lips and bucking his hips ever so slightly to adjust his seating, eyes glued to the screen. he even continues to boss his friends around through his headset, but you’re refusing to ignore the way his voice comes out just that bit breathier and slower, playing a little worse on the screen.
he knows when to call it quits on the game — and it’s when you really start putting on a show. you sit back, feet pressed onto the bed as you spread your knees wider — displaying your cunt fully to him as you grind, letting your pleased whimpers free without a care for his friends hearing. you tune in to what he’s saying through the mic as he speaks his farewell.
“alright — hey, i’m goin’. my girls — shutup, topper — my girl needs me. don’t expect you suckers to understand. yeah whatever bro.” you’re not sure what he’s responding to and you don’t care, only whining when your folds audibly part, your stickiness calling to him.
he yanks the headset off his head and looks down on you with a glassy gaze and parted lips.
“you wanna be heard. that right?”
“no, just want you.” you combat pathetically, panting like a puppy as you hump on your boyfriend.
“yeah…” he drawls, grasping a thick handful of your hip, lips shining from his tongue’s coat in the darkened hue of his bedroom. “you want attention. tha’s what you fuckin’ want.”
you pout at this, wishing he’d drop the mean act for just a moment. you can usually work it out of him, keep pleasing him ‘til he breaks — getting soft and sometimes even silly on you. you roll your hips, inspiring a low hum from him now as he helps you along with two hands on your ass.
“maybe i just missed you, rafey.” you groan, high pitched and bordering on pornagraphic. his nose scrunched when his lips part, eyes fixated on the way your folds part around the girth of his shape in his sweatpants.
“so god damn fuckin’ sexy.” he speaks through gritted teeth, and in a split flash you’re on your back — rafe hovering above you with strong greedy hands pinning you down. “gettin’ off on my lap. who’d you think you are, hm?” he hums, taking the lead as he noses at your jaw. there’s a faint clattering of his headset sliding off the sheets but you ignore it, lost in the moment.
“think m’your girl.” you daze, and if there’s any message your boyfriend drills into your head, it’s that his girl is allowed to take what she wants. even from him.
“got that right.” he’s fighting his sweatpants down with one hand, shoving your thighs open with the other. you didn’t need any preparation today, the art of being purely ignored for a game had gotten you as wet as they come.
⛸️✧˖°❅🤍
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arcadia345 · 3 months
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Sextrology notes🥀
MINORS DNI🔞
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Not a real astrologer this is just my observations and experiences ‼️
Book a reading❤️
Aries/1st house eros composite- could’ve gotten into the bedroom quicker than expected(or at least tried to), if not then regardless the sex is ROUGH. Lots of sweat and friction burns, bruises from the night before 🥴 “Everyone KNOWS that he f*cks you.” Vibe you can’t hide behind the tension with this one lmao. Could be your first time in a way? I had this with the first yt and the first black girl I’ve been with
Taurus mars/eros- kiss/rub their neck and see how quickly they fold😎 they adore nice smells vmuch bad smells turn us off so bad but if you smelll good I swear we’ll remember you and your sent FOREVER. We also love physical touch we love a good body rub we like all our senses to be aroused. I try to at least keep one hand on my lovers/ vice versa😭#clingy we’re also possessive of our partners to a extent
Gemini/3rd house eros esp in composite have the most fun in bed. Usually a short term relationship doesn’t have to be tho. You two will try new things together sexually. They’re very lighthearted and curious and down with whatever😌 they’ll try anything at least once😏. Mental and oral stimulation is a must here. Definitely prone to sex with more than one person at a time
Eros in Aquarius/cancer,4th/11th combination in composite every time I’ve had this with someone they changed my perspective on life/sex I swear😂 the sex was so mind blowing 🤯 just thinking about it got me stuck. Me and the first girl I did it with have this in composite and omg I did not know I was THAT into girls till she popped up(even tho I’m pans)🥴 my first time feeling sparkles during sex ✨(a man could never 👎)you might feel emotionally vulnerable with them and they might not be your type fr that’s why the sex is so shocking like dang I didn’t know you’d have me feeling like this now I’m stuck. Unforgettable. We also used toys
Cancer eros/mars have a creampie obsession or they lovve boobs ofc, they tend to match the same energy as their partner sexually wise but they can get really really freaky if you ask them nicely 🤭
Leo mars/eros- they love to put on a show in bed, they could be really playful/teasing/loungeful before the act. It’s like they love to tease you until you can’t take it anymore forcing you to make the first move( you need to show them how badly you want them) They look so hot all the faces they make🥵 esp when ur taking a quick break in between and they look so effortlessly good, if the chemistry/sex is good they’ll probably ask if they can record cuz they’re not gonna waste storage on some wack 💩 you can definitely learn something from them
I’ve had Leo in Eros in composite with someone and they’re the only person I needed to take a plan b with after the deed🧍🏽‍♀️
Pisces eros- likes to dive into the taboo side of sex, sex for them could cause them confusion instead of clarity most times. They like to fulfill their fantasies I feel like they have more opportunities to do that than others. The only guy I know with this said he had like 20 bodies??😟 but I’m pretty sure it’s only that high cause they never come back for seconds🤣 perfect example he needs to do some healing before he tries to sleep with someone 🧏🏽‍♀️
Neptune aspects to eros like to be under the influence while having sex. They get really sleepy also
Just like Aquarius eros they like to record/ have cybersex/have a audience
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I love how everyone always says scorpios are the freakiest 😂😂😂(they’re up there tho) and us cancers/virgos/taurus just chuckle 🤭
Cancers literally speak to ur soul in the bedroom. We bring out desires that you never knew you had. We’re literally the sign of the motherrr like we really know what’s best for you (us). That’s why they always come back for more🤣🤣 and plz don’t let them have mommy issues they’ll be stuck for life
Virgos😂😂😂😂😂 nobody talks about how the ♍️ symbol looks just like ♏️ (aka they hide their crazy/freaky side very well) they’re adaptable and they aim to please, if you’re satisfied then so are they. And they’re sooo good with their fingers and mouth like Geminis.
Tauruses they need to be satisfied before anything like being fed and taken care of before the deed, but once they see you deserve their time or loyalty they turn into a demon for you😈 drunk and love vibes buss the windows out ur car then have makeup sex yk? But ngl if their underdeveloped they may give ♍️ vibes to their partner instead
Libra Mars/Eros I’ve only had bad experiences with this one but they were sags so plz understand where I’m coming from. They love the IG baddies with the bubble 🍑 and cute aesthetics. They love “plastic barbies”/ dolls . They’re in love with the idea of love. Definitely have more than one person on their roster. They LOVE lingerie and pastel laces esp the men yk they fw it when they don’t take the panties off just pull them to the side🤣Depending on their chart I wouldn’t associate with this eros/mars their standards are unrealistic and problematic :/
Now composite libra in eros is a different experience for me, it feels like a romantic comedy, the head over heels vibes before you even make it to the bed🥰. These two could enjoy being in each other’s presence more than having sex? Like they genuinely enjoy eachothers company sm they kinda skip over that part sometimes lol. Also other people could try to intervene with you two?? In a sense 👀
Also most every Virgo/libra/sag guy (except 3, I think it’s more likely to happen if they’re underdeveloped signs)I’ve fw never liked to give head??? But it was mandatory that they received some???😃 the excuse was always they’re not in the mood/ that’s dirty/ their mouth hurts??💀💀💀 so my 🐱 is too dirty to eat but clean enough to f*ck? but ur 🍆 is clean to do both???🤣🤣🤣 neverrr again this why I’m gay asf now Chile
Sag mars/eros 😂 good luck trying to tie them down. They’re the most promiscuous/adventurous when it comes to sex. They love trying new things really down with whatever! Car sex, or just sex in public in general 😵‍💫 I promise y’all they dgaf. Also these people will change your way of thinking, a catalyst of self development. For me they were always the fboy that made me learn my lesson 😭. They push you to evolve.
Capricorn/10th Eros composite- sex definitely isn’t something you two rush into. Could be more on the reserved side at first. It may be mandatory that you build a deeper connection/commitment before anything sexual happens. It could be a while before anything sexual happens. There could be an age difference here as well. One person could be unexperienced. If you have this with someone and the sex isn’t that great the first time please don’t give up on them 😭 the more you get to understand eachothers bodies the better the sex will be. Bdsm could be a thing here. The type to tie you up/restrain you/ f*ck ur brains out and call you out of ur name but have mini wellness checks in-between. Edging and age play could be a thing. You two could start a OF👀
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🍆 indicators
Look at their mars aspects it’s very important. I’ve seen a lot of 🍆s yall so ik what I’m talking about 😂 the biggest one I’ve ever seen had Mars ☌ Jupiter like HUGE🫣😰 harsher aspects to Jupiter is what you want to look for. Now if he has aspects to Saturn but none to Jupiter…… it’s probably on the smaller scale 😭this could also mean good stamina/ hard to climax.
Mars ☌ Uranus surprised me which is on point 😂 very freaky placement uhm their 🍆s look pretty most of the time usually has a curve, definitely gonna hit you with some unusual positions that all feel weirdly good🥴
Mars ☌ Neptune is a less common aspect I’ve seen could have more length than girth but they’re really long. I feel like this is the unsolicited 🍆 pic sender💀 the ones that think everyone needs to see their🍆🙄/ people could fantasize on how they are in bed
🐱 indicators
Honestly idk any I feel like every 🐱 is good if you know how to please it right😌 but the ones that don’t need any assistance is 8th/12th house placements fs esp Jupiter/Neptune/mars. And prominent water signs in the chart
Pisces/12th house Eros in composite ‼️⚠️‼️ definitely not something to take lightly. The energy you two share is sacred. Very spiritual experience I don’t recommend this placement if you’re not aligned on a spiritual level. Lies/hidden motives could be involved. The f*ck you back to sleep placement. Sex so good you both sleep like you work 3 jobs after. I swear he put me into a meditative state while having sex I had to snap out of it 😭 also he was only person to make me orgasim ever to this day our bodies just blended so well together like water💧also he loved my feet?? Bon appetite!
Just experienced this composite again and it’s literally the samee feeling omg the discreetness and blurred lines/taboo feeling, the way our bodies just work so well together ommmg😩 we love to watch eachother? Sexting/stalking placement. And he loves my feet too💀. Sleep is really prominent here.
That’s all for now💋 just wanted to post for my 3year tumblr anniversary 🥹❤️
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navybrat817 · 4 months
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Indulgence
Pairing: Dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub!Female Reader Summary: When Bucky calls, you go to him. Word Count: Over 5.7k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, D/s elements, bondage, aftercare, established arrangement, insecurities, pet names, longing, possessive behavior, world building, mix of canon and non-canon, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I'm very excited for this new AU, lovelies! There's a deep bond between these two, but we know the road to love isn't always easy. ❤️Beta read by the amazing @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. And thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me ramble about this part. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You had only been asleep for an hour when your phone went off, your eyes barely open as you reached for the device and saw the familiar name appear. “Bucky?” You answered drowsily.
“Hey, angel,” he said roughly, the pet name bringing a sleepy smile to your face. It sounded like he hadn't gotten much sleep either. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“It’s okay. I have tomorrow off,” you said, a bit more alert as you sat up. “Are you at your apartment?”
“Yeah, I got back a bit ago,” he replied, swearing under his breath. “It’s really late. I just…”
“Need me,” you finished for him, stretching your back as you stood up. If he wanted to tell you he made it home safely from his latest assignment, he would've sent you a text. You knew by now that a call meant he had to see you in person. “Give me a few minutes?”
“You sure? I understand if you’d rather go back to bed.”
“I’m not going to get any sleep until I know you will, too,” you said. It would drive you crazy. “I want to come over. Okay?”
You wondered if the call dropped since you didn't hear anything on the other end. “Okay. I’ll send a car,” he said. He never let you pay for a ride yourself. “Thank you,” he added so softly you almost missed it.
“You don't need to thank me,” you assured him, though you appreciated hearing it. “I’ll see you soon.”
“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, your heart skipping a beat before he hung up.
You brushed your teeth again before you changed out of your pajamas. The outfit didn't exactly matter. If it had, he would’ve told you what you wear. It wouldn't stay on long anyway. You sensed that this was a night for him to simply blow off some steam or release anything still pent up from his assignment.
You were more than happy to help.
“On my way.” You messaged him a few minutes later as you went out to the car.
You politely greeted the driver before gazing out the window. If anyone had told you months ago that you’d be sleeping with the former Winter Soldier, you would’ve laughed at them for saying something so crazy. You never expected to meet the man, let alone connect with him. That was your life now though. You were sleeping with Bucky Barnes.
But it wasn't that cut and dry.
“I’ll be outside.” He sent back.
You smiled to yourself as you thought about Bucky, the man searching for himself again. After years of enduring horrific pain and having no control over his actions, he felt lost once he was free. In his eyes, he would never be able to right all the wrongs of the atrocities he was forced to commit, but making amends for his past was a start. It wasn't enough though to heal the cracks from within. It couldn't stop him from plunging into the deep abyss of his mind where it once felt whole.
He had to find a way to feel semi-normal again. He needed to do something good for someone else outside of his heroic duties. And he had to do so in an environment where he could express himself openly, honestly, and authentically with a person he could trust.
That was where you came into the picture.
If Bucky called, no matter what time of day and you were available, you went to his place in a car he paid for. You stayed until you were both satisfied. A more crude way to think of it was that you helped him fuck out his frustrations and gave him a means to inflict pleasure on someone instead of hurt. It was a routine you were used to by now.
“You wanna be my angel?”
You may be his angel, but you weren't his girlfriend. He wasn't in a place to have a typical relationship. You weren't just a fuck buddy either. You were his submissive of sorts, along with his confidant and a way for him to find release and some sense of normalcy.
While he sometimes fucked you like a whore, he never once treated you like one. He cared for your well-being and checked in on you the way a boyfriend would. He kept his place stocked with your favorite snacks. You didn't sleep with anyone else and neither did he. You looked out for each other.
Unlike your last boyfriend.
As far as arrangements went, you could do much worse. There were rules set in place. Bucky was honest about his needs and helped you heal your wounds from the failure of your previous relationship. But the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be with him.
Was it a recipe for disaster?
The drive seemed faster than usual because before you knew it the car stopped in front of Bucky’s apartment building. Your pulse quickened when you saw the brunette standing by the door, donned in his usual leather jacket. Even from a short distance, he looked massive and heat bloomed in your core as you knew what was to come. He moved to the curb with more grace than a man his size should have, his hard blue eyes set on you through the glass before he opened the door.
His gaze practically set your heart on fire and it went full ablaze when he tenderly smiled. He was stunningly beautiful even in the dark of night. It almost hurt to look back at him.
You had it bad.
“Hey,” he said, offering you his gloved hand to help you out. You hardly ever saw him out without his vibranium hand covered. “It’s good to see you.”
“Hey,” you smiled softly, giving the driver a quick thanks before you got out. “You, too.”
Bucky's large hand moved to the small of your back as he gently led you toward the building and opened the door. He didn't like to linger outside for too long. Neither of you spoke as he guided you to his apartment on the first floor and you didn't push him to make small talk. It was a delicate arrangement and some nights didn't call for filler.
Still, you tried to get a read on his emotions. There was a stiffness to his stance, but he didn't appear upset or angry. You also didn’t spot any obvious injuries.
“Were you hurt?” You asked as he took his keys out. He was only gone for a couple of days, but you knew how dangerous the missions were.
He turned and stared at you, not at all surprised by your question since you always asked. “No, I didn’t get hurt,” he assured you, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. “But I can't exactly talk about it either. I’m sorry.”
You nodded in understanding. It was information you weren't privy to and you doubted he called tonight to talk about it anyway. He peeled back layers of himself, yet there was so much underneath that you didn't know about. You cared for him regardless.
“Bucky, you don't have to apologize for that,” you reminded him.
“I just feel bad. You can tell me about your work, but I can't always talk about mine,” he said, looking both ways before he poked his head into his apartment.
“My job isn’t as ‘exciting’ as yours,” you teased before he let you in.
Bucky had a nice place. The partially exposed brick walls paired well with the hardwood floors. Tasteful, but not extravagant. The thick curtains in the living room matched the drapes in his bedroom. Since he occasionally slept on the floor by the oversized chair, it helped to block out the sun. He didn't have much as far as decor, but he did have a piece of art that his best friend, Steve, drew hung up in the hall.
He also had a bowl that you made on the console to hold his keys, which he promptly set them in.
It meant something that he even let you into his apartment when others close to him had never been invited.
“Need anything to drink?” He asked, slipping his jacket and glove off.
He had an empty glass waiting on the kitchen island in case you did. While you indulged in a drink now and then, he wouldn't allow you to have too many. He refused to have sex with you if you were inebriated. Said it took consent away and you wouldn't be alert enough to use a safeword if necessary.
He wouldn't budge on that rule.
“No, thanks,” you answered, gazing at him.
His T-shirt strained against his biceps, one flesh and one vibranium. You could still smell his cologne from the small distance across the room, amber and cedarwood. Warm, comforting, dominating. All the things he was to you.
Not the monster he sometimes believed himself to be.
You eyed him as he poured himself a shot of whiskey, the need to soothe him coming forward when you caught a distant look in his eyes. He didn't even make a move to down his drink as he set his hands on the counter and stared off. Maybe he couldn't give you the details about what happened, but you could take care of him.
Because as much as he sometimes had to have control over you, both of you had power in your relationship.
“Bucky?” You gently called out, pulling him from his trance. “You can talk to me, even if you have to keep some things to yourself.”
His shoulders dropped as he sighed. “Three months.”
“I'm sorry?”
“Three months since we started this,” he answered.
You realized he was right when you remembered the date. It felt longer yet still brand new. “Yeah. Three great months,” you smiled.
A knot formed in your stomach when he didn't smile back. “And you still feel safe with me?” He asked, gripping the counter so hard you thought it might crumble in his hands. “You really trust that I won’t hurt you?”
Your smile slipped, the questions like a punch to the gut as you walked toward him. You stopped a foot in front of him to give him some breathing room as he made eye contact. Where had that come from? What happened to make him question that?
“Of course, I feel safe. Not only do I feel safe with you and trust you, I know that you won't hurt me. You will always take care of me,” you said with fierce determination, yet with a vulnerability you couldn't hide. “If I didn't believe that, I wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t submit to you.”
You told him the same thing the day you two agreed on this arrangement. He wasn't your boyfriend, but he wasn't like your ex. He wouldn't just throw you away without a second thought or ignore your needs. You also had faith in him that he wouldn't harm you.
And as much as you trusted him, he trusted you that much more. If he didn't, he wouldn't have called you in the first place. That meant he still trusted himself around you.
He looked away and asked above a whisper, “Do you still think I'm a good man?”
“Yes,” you replied without hesitation, your heart aching when his jaw clenched. “Bucky, look at me, please.”
He slowly made eye contact with you, a storm swirling in his stare.
“You are a good man,” you stated, needing to reach the part of him that believed it. “And it doesn't matter how many times you ask me that, my answer isn't going to change. Ever.”
Bucky was silent, his breathing the only sound in the space. You were worried that you said the wrong thing before he pushed himself away from the counter. Instead of moving back when he approached, you stood firm, ready to brace the storm. You sometimes felt like a mouse confronted by a lion when he got close, but it sent a thrill through you. Because you meant what you said.
You trusted him and he made you feel safe.
“I just had to hear you say it,” he whispered as he cupped your face.
A fire lit within you as Bucky captured your mouth with his. There was care and tenderness beneath the hunger and you found yourself clinging to his arms as you kissed him back. No one before him had ever kissed you with such desire, such passion. It had you chasing his lips when he pulled away too soon.
“Now go to my room, get undressed, and kneel on the bed facing the headboard,” he ordered, his voice low and allowing the words to sink in just in case you had any objections. Because he was done talking and ready to play.
So were you.
It took you a moment to answer since you had to bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered, feeling his eyes on you as you walked to his bedroom.
You focused on keeping your breathing even as you shed your clothes, taking a moment to fold them before you set them on the chair in the corner. The only time you left your garments on the floor was if Bucky put them there or had you put on a show for him. It was his space and you respected it.
He hadn't told you how long to wait for him, but your heart thumped as you knelt on the queen sized bed. You didn’t see any toys as you glanced around, but there was water, snacks, wipes, and the soft blanket you loved waiting on the nightstand. It took a moment for you to spot that there was a blindfold and scarf on top of the blanket. Your womb clenched in anticipation, an exquisite feeling knowing your patience and obedience would reward you.
Bucky walked through the door a minute later and shut it behind him. The energy shifted completely, both of you ready for each other. As much as you wanted to lift your gaze and look behind you, you kept your eyes downcast as he approached the bed. He cupped your cheek once he was close enough and forced your eyes to meet his.
“My beautiful angel,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your skin as you glowed from the praise. He reached for the scarf and ran his fingers across the silk as he glanced at you. “As much as I hate to cover those beautiful eyes of yours and restrain you, I want you to concentrate on my touch tonight. Just let me have you.”
A shiver rolled down your spine as you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“Hands behind your back,” he said, moving to secure them once you did so. The silk was soft against your skin, almost as soft as the kiss to your shoulder. After years of being restrained, you knew he felt guilty at times taking your control away. The difference was you gave yourself to him willingly. “Tell me your safewords.”
“Green is good. Yellow to pause,” you stated, testing the scarf. He never bound you too tight, but it was enough that you couldn’t slip your wrists free. “Red to stop."
“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You turned your head a fraction so he could slot his lips properly over yours. Gentle, yet hot enough to melt your insides. “My good girl.”
He maneuvered you so you were in the middle of the bed and spread your knees a bit further apart. He joined you on his knees, still fully clothed. Casting your gaze down again, you bit your lip when you saw the prominent bulge in his pants. A hand came up to grasp your chin before you could stare for too long and lifted your head. If you were still wearing your panties, they would’ve dampened from his darkened gaze.
“So beautiful and all mine tonight,” he said.
“I’m yours, Sir,” you whispered, the word “always” unspoken.
“And I know you were staring,” he smirked, his fingers working the button and zipper of his jeans. His impressive cock sprang free once he pushed his underwear and pants down far enough and you wished you could lean down and swirl your tongue around the large head. “Greedy angel. Just desperate to have my cock in you.”
“Yes, Sir. Please,” you begged.
He made a show of lifting the blindfold before he slipped it over your head, your body tensing up when your world went dark. Sight was one of the senses you relied on the most. It helped you absorb most of the world around you. And now it was temporarily gone. It felt like your heart would burst from your chest as you breathed a bit heavier. But Bucky was there, softly touching your face until you relaxed.
“Breathe, angel. I’ve got you,” he whispered, drawing a gasp from you when his lips touched yours. His hands mapped your body, brushing along your breasts down to your thighs. You felt him everywhere. “Color?”
“Green,” you whispered as a hand moved around your back and forced you to arch. He was careful not to hurt your arms. “Please.”
Your head fell back with a moan as his lips closed around your nipple. You could practically feel that he looked up at you as he gently suckled. A wave of arousal crashed through you as he pinched the other. No one had ever lavished your body with such attention the way Bucky did.
“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured against the swell of your breast. “Helpless. Trembling. Needy.”
You didn't mean to let such a wanton moan escape, but he made you feel needed. He made you feel wanted. It was a beautiful thing to surrender to him.
“And I love that I'm the one you trust to take care of you.”
“I trust you with my life, Sir,” you moaned.
And your heart, even though he had the power to break it.
Your chest suddenly felt colder when Bucky pulled his mouth and hand away and you shook from the loss of his heat. His vibranium hand touched your torso to remind you he was close when he shifted closer to you on the bed. You gasped when he dragged his hand down and you were helpless to do anything but feel when it slid between your legs.
“You're doing so well for me,” he said, his teeth grazing your neck as his fingers spread your sopping folds. He teased you, letting you soak his metal fingers as you mewled. He lightly bit you again when he replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding along your slit, but not pushing inside you just yet. “You want me inside you? You need me to fuck you, don't you? Tell me.”
Your cheeks flamed as you whined. “I need you to fuck me, Sir,” you said, trying to widen your thighs to take him in more.
“I will. I'm going to give you everything you need,” he rumbled, gripping your hips with strong and capable hands to keep you still. “And you’re going to let me ruin your pretty little pussy with my cock.”
You panted with want at his possessiveness. Filthy words were something you never thought you’d hear from someone associated with The Avengers and they kicked your body into overdrive. You ached to have him split you open. “Ruin me, Sir.”
In one swift move he lifted you, pulled you into his lap, and buried himself to the hilt. Your mouth fell open as you let out a cry, every inch of his cock stretching and making itself at home in your welcoming cunt. You couldn't brace yourself on his shoulders with your hands behind your back. You couldn't see the ecstasy in his eyes as he let you adjust to his size, but you didn't have to. Not with the way he dug his fingers in and groaned against your shoulder.
He took you to heaven when he was inside you.
“Color,” he said against your skin, thrusting his hips up once.
“Green,” you moaned, reminding yourself to stay still when you wanted him to move. “So green.”
“Good girl,” he whispered, gently kissing up to your ear. “Keep being good while I bounce you up and down on my cock.”
Your eyes fluttered behind the blindfold as he pulled you up and slammed you back down on his cock. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your heart beat frantically in your chest. It was difficult to string thoughts together, but they all went back to him and how good he made you feel. How he made you feel beautiful.
Flaws and all.
“It’s like your cunt was made for me, angel. Practically crying all over my cock,” his voice was smoky as sounds of pleasure tumbling from your lips. The next moan was softer when he slid a hand up to your neck, resting it there as the other kept your hips flush against his. “You deserve to feel good because you are good. So fucking good.”
Your lower lip trembled as a sob worked its way to your throat, “Thank you, Sir,” you whimpered before he squeezed.
“And I. Deserve. You.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust. You didn’t have to see his face to know the fury that surfaced. “My angel. Mine.”
It overwhelmed you as he bounced you in his lap, sinking you down onto him again and again. His thrusts were almost unforgiving, but the hand on your throat didn’t tighten anymore. He couldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t hurt you.
“I’m your angel, Sir,” you moaned as he reduced you to a needy wet mess.
“I wanna tear you apart,” he growled against your lips. “And put you back together so you still feel me when you fucking breathe.”
“Tear me apart, Sir,” you gasped, a plea for him to use you more. Your thighs hit his as he thrust up and all you could do was take it. He touched places inside you no one else could reach, physically and emotionally, and you never wanted it to stop. “Please!”
“Tell me you need me to come inside you and I’ll let you come,” he ordered, the hand on your neck squeezing a fraction. “Say it.”
“Come inside me, Sir,” you begged.
“Bucky,” he breathed against your lips. “Say. My. Name.”
Your next breath was shaky. He always had you call him “Sir” on nights like this. Why was this different?
Your orgasm began to crest, but you couldn’t let go until you gave him what he wanted. And he’d give you what you needed. “Come inside me, Bucky,” you exhaled. “Please.”
He swiped his thumb along your pulse with a deep groan, his cock still driving up into you. “I will after you come,” he promised, his tongue sliding past your parted lips and pulling away all too quickly. “C’mon, angel. Come for me. Show me you’re mine.”
The sob you tampered down earlier resuraced, wrenched from your throat as you came. Your release continued, practically leaking around his cock as tears slid out beneath the blindfold. You were beyond rational thought as pleasure spiraled through you, vaguely aware that he thrust through it to chase his own end.
“Good. Fucking. Girl.” He grunted, pulsing hotly inside you as he filled you up.
Both of you panted as you continued to drift from euphoria, your heart still beating wildly. You were warm, but your body shivered as he lifted you up. Your combined release slid from your aching cunt once he slipped free. You floated and wanted him to catch you, but you couldn’t put your arms around him.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered when you let out a whimper. He made quick work of untying your wrists so he could lay you down properly and wipe away the tears still on your cheeks. “I’m going to take the blindfold off.”
Your eyes stayed shut for a moment when Bucky removed it, but you cracked them open when you wanted to see him. Your vision slowly cleared as you blinked a few times, your mind still floating as he came into view. He called you an angel, but he was the one who had a halo around his head at the moment. A gorgeous angel who had unrightfully had his wings taken away. He smiled like he wanted to eat you alive, but his touch was nothing short of tender when he brought his hand to your face.
“So fucking beautiful. You did so well for me. Fuck, I just wanna clean you with my tongue and fill you up all over again,” he praised as you clenched around nothing and whined. As hot as it sounded, you needed a bit of rest after that. “Not tonight,” he smiled, keeping a hand on you as he grabbed a wipe.
A reason he had everything close by was because you craved his touch after sex. If he ever got too far away, you whimpered and reached for him. It made you feel needy, but he assured you that he needed to keep touching you just as badly.
It just wasn’t fair that he looked so composed.
Bucky continued to shower you with soft praise as he cleaned you up. It didn’t take him long before he wrapped the soft blanket around you, trembles moved through your entire body as he put his arms around you, too. He took aftercare very seriously. It was a way for you to feel cared for and nurtured while allowing your body and brain to return back to normal. He never wanted you to experience negativity or sadness after any sort of session, especially an intense one.
You were aware that he moved you closer in his arms and rested his cheek against the top of your head, but you weren't ready to speak yet. It always took you a minute to come back to yourself and he was never one to rush or push you. If relaxing in his embrace was what it took to return to the world, he was more than content to keep you in his arms.
At least, that was what he told you.
You opened your eyes after a few minutes. Your heartbeat was back to a steady rhythm, but you still weren't ready to move yet. You were warm and safe. Bucky was there to take care of you. But what about him?
Had you taken care of him?
Bucky had a faint smile on his face when you lifted your head, his shoulders relaxed and eyes soft. Like he was at ease with everything around him. “Welcome back, angel,” he whispered, peppering your face with light kisses.
“Hey,” you smiled tiredly, your voice a little hoarse as you brought a hand to his hair, happy that you could touch him again. Judging by the way his eyes slipped shut for a moment before he opened them, he missed your touch, too.
“You okay?”
“I am and so are you. You're okay.” It wasn't a question. Whatever haunted him earlier was gone.
For now.
He didn't tear his gaze away as he reached for the water behind him, which you gratefully accepted as he put it to your lips. “You amaze me, you know? You just came back to yourself, but you're talking about me being okay.”
“Isn’t that why you call me?” You asked with a small frown, taking another large sip. “To help you?”
His brows furrowed. “It’s not just about me. This is about you, too.”
You took one more drink before you could say something stupid. Yes, this was about you, too. How he didn't push too far. How he’d hold you after sex and talk with you because those things were important to you. How he made you feel cherished and wanted for a short while.
You just didn't want to admit that he was a constant in your mind. But would it be so wrong if you did? Even if he’d never date you, didn't he have a right to know how you felt?
Communication was key and you would have to eventually tell him if those feelings persisted.
“It’s about both of us and I just want you to be okay,” is what you said because it was the truth.
He set the water aside and cupped your cheek, his calloused hand a little cool, but nice. You almost wished you could hide from his knowing eyes, but he didn’t press you for more. “I am now,” he said, swallowing a little. “I just couldn't let you see me tonight.”
Worry filled his eyes like he may have upset you, but you shook your head. You had seen his scars, but he was never obligated to show you his body. “You're letting me see you now,” you said, scooting closer as he brought your wrist to his mouth to kiss it.
You thought about how the evening played out. How he asked if you thought he was a good man. How he demanded that you speak his name. And how he said he deserved you. Either something happened while he was gone or someone said or did something to get to him. You wished you knew what it was since he didn’t expand on what had been eating away at him before.
“And before you ask, you didn't hurt me,” you told him, knowing the question was coming. You appreciated that he cared enough to check.
He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Good because I’d never stop hating myself if I did,” he admitted, looking at the ceiling for a moment. “You don't deserve that kind of pain.”
Your heart swelled, not letting any past hurt enter your mind. He made you believe that you deserved better than what you had. It was a good feeling.
“Neither do you. And that's a reason why safewords exist. Both of us can use them,” you reminded him. Like aftercare, he took the words seriously. He listened to you. And if he ever got overwhelmed, he had every right to stop it the same way you did. “So no self-hate tonight.”
He huffed in mock annoyance. “Yes, ma’am. And speaking of self-hate,” he teased, tilting his head to look your way. “I really don’t want to go to therapy tomorrow.”
There was a forced calmness in his blue eyes as you assessed him. “You still don’t like your therapist,” you stated.
One of the conditions of his pardon was that he had to go to therapy. It was meant to help him process his thoughts and past experiences in order to work through them. Though he didn’t tell you what went on in his sessions as it was none of your business, he didn’t keep it a secret from you that the doctor was far from his favorite person.
You wondered if Bucky told her about you.
“What’s there to like?” He asked.
You smiled a little, knowing better than to poke the bear and say she probably wasn't that bad. “Well, being able to speak to someone who provides non-judgemental and empathetic support is one thing.”
“That’s why I like talking to you,” he said, the affection in his voice making your heart skip a beat.
“Oh,” you said, not sure what else to say.
Moments like that made you think he cared. No, that wasn’t right. You knew he cared about you. But hearing things like that made you feel like there was hope for more and he wasn’t ready for that.
Hope was both a wonderful and dangerous thing.
“Have you met anyone else?” He asked suddenly, moving his hand to your back.
It was a question Bucky asked every time he had you over. He said from the start if there was another man in your life that you’d rather be with, someone who could offer you more, he’d step aside. There wasn't anyone else. You didn't want anyone else.
And while it was admirable that he would walk away if that ever changed, your heart ached at the thought that he’d easily let you go. Because at the end of the day he wasn't ready for a relationship. Not yet.
Even if he was, who said he wanted one with you?
“No, I haven't met anyone,” you said, feeling the warm breath of his exhale against your skin as his hand moved up and down your back. It relaxed you more and you found yourself fighting a yawn. “Have you?”
“No,” he chuckled. The crinkles by his eyes made him look carefree. “Not since you saved me.”
You shut your eyes, afraid that tears would well up if you looked at him. “I didn't save you. All I did was buy you a coffee one afternoon,” you whispered dismissively.
That day changed your life.
“I’m going to let that slide since you're sleepy, but I’m going to remind you when you're wide awake that you did a lot more than that,” he spoke. He held you a little tighter when you stayed quiet. You were more tired than you thought. “Get some sleep, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
You let your eyes shut at his command. “Thank you for taking care of me, Bucky.”
“Thank you for taking a chance on me.”
There was something else unspoken in the air, but a tender kiss to your forehead stopped you from reading too deeply into it.
In the morning, he’d send you back to your place after he made you breakfast. He’d text you later to make sure you were okay. He would continue to check in and you would do your best not to fall for him more. Because one day he wouldn't need you anymore. You didn't know when that day would come, but tonight you could indulge in the fantasy that Bucky wanted you to be his girl.
Permanently.
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I just want these two happy and together. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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theoldsports · 5 months
Text
married.
Coriolanus Snow x reader | 5.5k words
alcohol makes consent messy, substance abuse, manipulation, arranged marriage, public humiliation, two-way abusive relationship <3
Coriolanus may well replace Lupin as my favorite guy to write for. he’s fucked up. i can’t fix him, but i could certainly make him worse.
As quietly as possible, [Y/N] closed the door to Coriolanus’s lavish new apartment behind her. She didn’t particularly want him to know that she had left the apartment in the first place. There were always too many questions.
[Y/N] had recently moved in with Coriolanus since their engagement. Her parents had arranged their marriage with his grandmother, affectionately called the Grandma’am not long before she passed. Coriolanus was about the most desirable bachelor in the Capitol. Not only was he an excessively handsome twenty-three year old, but he was also growing increasingly wealthy and had recently received his first assignment as a Gamemaker working on creating a new arena structure for the Hunger Games. Everyone who was anyone in polite society knew of Coriolanus Snow.
And [Y/N] hated him with everything she had. She had to see his defiant smirk in school every day for years since they were twelve or so. She hid from him every chance she got at home. [Y/N] slept in another room away from him. The only advantage of their marriage were the politics and name recognition for the both of them.
“I didn’t realize you were going out.” Coriolanus said flatly, snapping [Y/N] from her thoughts. She hadn’t even realized he had been in the apartment’s common area. He was sitting calmly in an putrid-looking armchair, alarmingly still.
[Y/N] gasped and clutched her chest in surprise. “Is there a problem with my leaving?” She said quickly.
“No problem.”
[Y/N] looked at him curiously. “Okay.” She said and moved passed him to her bedroom.
After a moment of pause, Coriolanus appeared in her doorway. He leaned against her doorframe with a hand in his pocket. “Where were you, by the way?” He asked plainly.
“I don’t see how that’s your business.”
“It was beginning to get late. Our engagement party’s in two hours. I cannot very well attend an engagement event without my fiancée. So. Where were you?”
“Dry cleaner’s.”
Coriolanus let out a scoff. [Y/N] could see him get hot under the collar. “You expect me to believe you were—Where’s the laundry?” Coriolanus questioned.
[Y/N] reached into her coat pocket for the stub of her laundry receipt. “Dropping off, not picking up. You’re on Lucky Flickerman’s next week. Dropping off my dress ahead of time. Anything left you would like to accuse me of?” [Y/N] sighed, leaned against her desk chair.
“Do not speak to me like that,” Coriolanus begun, sighing. It was obvious that he felt undue humiliation from her response. “It’s childish and unbecoming.”
“So is your being a hypocrite.” [Y/N] snapped back instantly.
The pair fought daily. Never had Snow laid a hand on her, but it wouldn’t be surprising if he did one day. [Y/N] didn’t recall any particular fights he had been involved in at the Academy, but it doesn’t mean they didn’t happen.
“Stop acting like a child!” Coriolanus repeated. “Are we not allowed one remotely pleasant moment together? You know I don’t want this just as much as you, but here we are. Can’t we be civil?”
“I am capable of civility, yes. You, on the other hand…”
“You’re disgusting. You don’t know how to listen. It blows me away. I asked you a simple question that a married couple should ask the other when one is gone. Now you’re screaming at me like a little girl. Grow up.”
“Grow up? You wanna talk about childish; you’re selfish, demanding, and cold. I’m scared to death of you. You make me feel like a toy, not a person, Coriolanus. I was always pretty fucking certain children had toys, not grownups.”
“Good gracious… Fine! Be that way. Cause a fucking scene!” Coriolanus screamed. His temper flared. He got that look in his eye that only men can get when they lose something they wanted. “My coat and tie are black. I’m assuming you’re not intending to clash or something, so just letting you know. Y’know. Communication. The polite thing to do.” He reported and stormed out of her room to his own. Her door slammed so hard behind him that she feared in may splinter off its hinges. What must the neighbors think of them?
[Y/N] resisted the urge to shout for Coriolanus to drop dead.
She was left to ready herself alone. As she pulled out her dress (that wouldn’t look foul against Coriolanus’s coat and tie) from the closet, she caught a glimpse of the engagement ring on her finger. White gold with a moderately sized ruby set in the middle. She was told both the gold and the stone were real, but she had her doubts to some extent. She found it was difficult to believe anything Coriolanus said. The ring made it clear that Coriolanus didn’t truly know [Y/N] because she had always worn silver jewelry. She felt isolated from all her prior jewelry pieces as now, none of them matched.
Then, [Y/N] stepped into her dress. A flowing black ballgown with a full petticoat and a glittery exterior over the fine satin it was made from. She couldn’t quite complete the buttons running up the dress’s back. She sat down at a small vanity Coriolanus had purchased her to do her hair and makeup. She assumed he would be hard pressed by the fact she couldn’t button the back of her own ballgown; that she was incapable or needy.
After dragging kohl and shadows over her eyelids, among other things, she set out to find the correct pair of shoes to match the dress.
The problem with dressing to match Coriolanus is that he was excessively tall. This meant every dress had to be accompanied by the tallest heels one could find. [Y/N]’s ankles ached just thinking about a night in shoes like that again. With her makeup done and her dress unbuttoned down the back, [Y/N] set out to find the red heels Coriolanus had purchased for her. She sat unceremoniously on the floor with her large skirt fluffed out around her to dig in her closet for the shoes.
Coriolanus was fastening his white gold and ruby cufflinks that matched [Y/N]’s engagement ring when he knocked at her door.
“Yes, what?” She shouted from the floor.
Coriolanus pulled the door open without asking if she was decent. “I was going to ask if you were ready, but I can see that you aren’t.” He sighed. Coriolanus never apologized after a fight, instead he tried to placate in whatever way possible. He was incapable of an apology, [Y/N] thought. Whether it was buying her something, taking her out, helping her find something she had lost, that’s what he would do to ease his own guilt. If he could feel guilt.
[Y/N] sighed as well. She was unwilling to engage in verbal sparring with him now. She lowered her head in a visual show of defeat. “I can’t find my other shoe,” She said weakly. “The red ones you got me.”
“The red heels?” He asked quietly. Coriolanus perceived she was not much in the mood for his attitude, and felt his residual anger cool off several degrees.
[Y/N] nodded hopelessly. She didn’t want to go to the engagement party. She didn’t want to be marrying Coriolanus under terms such as these. [Y/N] felt like property and everything hurt.
“Let me look,” Coriolanus said. What he meant to say was ‘I’m sorry for everything,’ but what he said was: “I’ll help you look. Don’t wrinkle your dress, alright?”
[Y/N] stood up awkwardly, holding the falling bodice of her dress up. She felt uncomfortable being so vulnerable in front of him like this. “Sorry, I couldn’t button the back.” She said. With her free hand, she reached around the back of the dress in an attempt to close it.
“Don’t apologize. I’ll get it. Turn,” Coriolanus commanded plainly. [Y/N] did as he said. He notched the buttons down her back with ease. “You should’ve called for help. I didn’t realize you were struggling.” He said. He patted her shoulder to signify he was done with the back of her dress. Coriolanus moved in front of her closet and bent down to find the missing left red shoe.
It was silent for a moment. “Of course you weren’t aware I was struggling.”
Coriolanus offered no reply. He understood what she meant.
“Aha!” He said after a few moments, holding up a matching set of shoes. Coriolanus placed them on the floor in front of her so she could step into them. He offered [Y/N] a hand for stability as she did so.
“Thank you,” she said. “Hey, Coriolanus?”
“Hm?”
“Are you nervous?”
“No,” he replied, standing up from the carpeted floor. “Are you?” Coriolanus’s blue eyes were piercingly inquisitive. Eyes that didn’t want to know you, but to consume you.
“Yes.”
“Really? Why?” Coriolanus asked. It didn’t feel rude or hot-tempered. It was merely a plain question. It made [Y/N] feel safe to answer, even though she remained guarded.
“I’m presenting myself as the soon-to-be wife of the most important thirty-under-thirty in the Capitol in an arranged marriage. And you hate me. You have hated me since we were children. My life is over, Coriolanus. This is for you and for my family’s honor, evidently. What do I have left?”
“You think I hate you?” Coriolanus asked, bending his neck to look at [Y/N]. “I don’t hate you.” [Y/N] wasn’t sure how truthful the statement was.
“Well, at least, you don’t like me.”
Curiously, Coriolanus placed a hand on her neck and dragged his thumb across [Y/N]’s jawline. “That’s such shit, [Y/N]. I didn’t realize you thought that of me. That you… Felt that way at all,” he started carefully. “Rather, and this sounds silly, I enjoy arguing with you. I sort of thought you did as well. You’re ruthless, I admire that,” He smirked and paused for a breath. “I do like you. Believe it, or not. I’ll just have to figure out a way to show you better,” Coriolanus’ hand slid from [Y/N]’s throat, down her side and back to eventually rest at her waist. She blinked up at him, surprised at the luxury of such unexpected contact from him. “Your life is not over. You wanna work, work. You want to not work, stay home. Please, allow me to do what I can for you. I can open doors. Whatever you want, name it. Things, opportunity,” [Y/N] nodded at the word ‘opportunity.’ “You’re meant to be my wife and I’m… really, I’m one of the best resources there is around here. Let me use that advantage. Had I known sooner, I wouldn’t have wasted all that time and money buying you things you hate.” He attempted a casual joke, holding her too close to him.
They were closer physically than they had ever been. Due to their proximity, [Y/N] had to rest her hands on Coriolanus’ chest as she stared up at him. She didn’t know what to say, so she nodded and straightened the red rose at his lapel. “You just might get yourself that unified front with me if you bring home your work…”
“You’re interested in Gamemaking? Since when?”
[Y/N] rolled her eyes. “We’re going to be late. We can speak about this later.”
“By all means.” Coriolanus leaned down awkwardly and kissed her. Maybe it was out of duty, maybe out of desire. Neither of them knew. They had shared the occasional peck on the lips for social reasons before, but this felt a bit different. It was charged somehow. A promise.
When they separated, [Y/N] stared at Coriolanus. He was all eyes - blue, blue, blue. He blinked at her. She blinked back. “Come on, we’ll be late to our own party.”
The whole ride to the event venue, Coriolanus had kept his hand on [Y/N]’s thigh. This was an unusual gesture. Normally, he didn’t chance touching her, even by accident. It was an unspoken agreement to keep their distance.
“I’m gonna be sick.” [Y/N] groaned into her palm as she exited the vehicle, led by Coriolanus toward the door of the event hall. The building had been destroyed when they were children in the war and had been recently restored to its former glory.
“Same thing as earlier, or did you decide I’m the worst person on earth?”
“Same as before. Haven’t decided about the second thing. My parents are going to be here too. You remember them?”
“Yes. I’ve met them… Twice, I believe—”
“Tread carefully.” [Y/N] said, offering no additional support.
Coriolanus nodded in solemn understanding. His eyebrows knitted together, knowing one more nasty, exhausting troublespot would be in his way tonight. He hated social gatherings as much as [Y/N]. With all the gentleness he could muster, Coriolanus took her hand. “Heading inside… Unified front?”
“If I must.” [Y/N] said.
With that, the night took off. Bright flashing cameras reflected off the black and white marble of the building, and applause rang off the large, cavernous walls. Everyone was shaking their hands, greeting and congratulating them, and stopping them for overly pictures at every turn. For a moment, [Y/N] truly believed that everything in her life was perfect, because everyone around her seemed to assume that it was. It made the pill of her future easier to swallow.
Coriolanus led her around the room with ease. He introduced her to many individuals whose names she would not remember tomorrow. She was beginning to develop a stunning routine of artifice with him as Coriolanus puppeted her around the room. Each interaction functioned with a greeting from Coriolanus to the stranger, he would remove his arm from [Y/N]’s waist and drag it down her arm into her hand in order for her to showcase her striking gown. Then he would say “isn’t my fiancée beautiful?” or “isn’t she just divine?” or “what a lucky man am I?” [Y/N] would chuckle and compliment him back with “my Coriolanus, ever the charmer!” or “isn’t he just divine?” or “what a lucky woman am I?” accordingly. They would smile sickeningly and pretend they were in love, he would lean in and kiss [Y/N] on the cheek, and she laugh warmly at his ‘spontaneity’ and place a hand on his chest, or straighten his tie.
After that, they would move on to greet the next poor sucker and repeat the process.
Eventually, [Y/N] dragged Coriolanus off to the side so she could relax her artificial grin. “Sorry, I need a moment. My face hurts. And that last man and his wife, was that his wife? They stunk. They smelled so foul it is unreal.”
Coriolanus smirked. “Those were my next door neighbors growing up. Vile. They’re very heavy morphling users, if you couldn’t tell with the glazed over look and twitchy eyebrow.” Coriolanus mocked.
[Y/N] laughed, hard. “Oh, you’re terrible!” She jeered. “Damn, what I wouldn’t give for morphling tonight…”
“Don’t tell me you’re a junkie, now.” Coriolanus pressed.
“Junkie is such a strong word…”
“Well, since I can’t get you high out of your mind at the moment, best I can offer is posca. I can grab you a glass and you can hide from the onslaught for a moment.” Coriolanus offered.
“Please. A particularly stiff glass if you can swing it. Or whiskey!” [Y/N] said. She watched Coriolanus turn to leave for the bar. [Y/N] tucked herself in a corner behind a noble Corinthian column for a moment of peace. A few people came and went that she greeted with that 1000-watt fake smile of hers, but she was mostly left unbothered. [Y/N] caught sight of a clock and realized Coriolanus had been gone for several minutes longer than he should have. She excused herself from talking to some old woman that claimed to be some distant great aunt or something of Coriolanus’ and set off to locate him and her posca.
Cutting through the crowd, [Y/N] spotted tall Coriolanus over most everyone’s heads, holding two glasses of posca, and speaking to her parents.
Fuck.
Her parents.
[Y/N] rushed sharply towards Coriolanus. She stopped short of approaching. She wanted to listen in for a moment to what they might be saying. [Y/N] knew her parents were of the socially treacherous sort. She turned her back to them and stood, pretending she didn’t know they were there.
“…Hasn’t given you too much trouble.” She heard her mother laugh.
Coriolanus laughed uncomfortably back. “Ha, not too much, no,” He said. “She’s quite fiery, for lack of a better word, though. Tough. She’s a tough woman.”
“You’re a strong young man, Coriolanus. I’m sure you’ll find a way to put her in her place. You can’t have her compromise your image and all that, you know. She can just be so destructive.” Her father said.
[Y/N] felt her heart sink. The positive interactions she had with Coriolanus were slipping out of her mind by the second in overhearing the conversation.
“Ah, yes sir,” Coriolanus said. “We’ve got a whole lifetime for—“
[Y/N] turned around and stomped over to Coriolanus. “There you are!” She said, returning that winning smile to her lips. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, dear,” [Y/N] the pet name coming from her mouth made her nauseous. She grasped Coriolanus’ arm firmly. “And you got me a drink? You really are a dear, aren’t you?” She smiled and turned to her parents. Coriolanus felt tense beside her; she could feel it in the muscles in his arm.
Both her mother and father embraced her lovingly. “Oh, [Y/N], you look beautiful as ever.” Her mother said.
“Thank you,” [Y/N] said flatly, not returning the compliment. “If you’ll excuse us, there was someone else I wanted Coriolanus to meet. We’ll be back around soon. Love you!” She muttered, pulling Coriolanus away from her parents.
“Give me that.” She said, as soon as they were out of earshot, taking the glass of posca from Coriolanus.
“They’re…” he started in reference to her parents.
“Dreadful. I know,” [Y/N] heart felt broken. She didn’t even have a chance with Coriolanus without their humiliating influence. She didn’t want to dive into rationalizing his overheard conversation. So she just morosely stared down at the floor.
“They’re cruel to you,” he remarked as [Y/N] drank. “They told me I should work on breaking your spirit.”
[Y/N] took a long drink from her glass. “Are you going to? Break my spirit, I mean.”
“Haven’t decided,” Coriolanus replied. “Is tonight terrible so far for you?”
“Absolutely and unendingly.”
“Shame, since it’s supposed to be for us,” Coriolanus frowned. “Here’s what we’ll do. Drink up and we’ll dance. You told me you liked to dance once. Still true?”
“Uh, yes. You remember that?” The truth was that Coriolanus forgot very little.
“Too much talking, not enough drinking.” He replied, reaching out to tip the stem of her posca glass up, forcing the drink towards her lips.
“You’re a dick.” [Y/N] snapped. Her voice echoed from the round glass at her mouth.
“Never heard that one before.” Coriolanus said sarcastically.
A total of five empty posca glasses were settled on a cocktail table between them after about forty-five minutes of chatter and drinking. Coriolanus seemed looser than before, but focused as ever. The third glass, and the last half of Coriolanus’ second, had sent [Y/N] over the edge into drunkness, however.
“Dance with me now?” [Y/N] slurred slightly.
Coriolanus held his hand out as an affirmative response. She took it and he led her towards the dance floor. “FYI, I’m going to lead. You’re falling apart.” He leaned in to whisper teasingly as they approached the shiny wooden floor.
“If you’re shit at this, I reserve the right to take over as lead.”
“You have zero faith in me,” Coriolanus said, grabbing her too firmly in a waltz hold. She placed her hand on his broad shoulder. “Don’t think, just follow. I’ve got you.” He said, staring at her. Blue, blue, blue eyes, completely unreadable. Coriolanus sloppily led her around the dance floor, keeping the spins to a minimum. Sober, he was probably a fairly decent dancer. [Y/N] was reflexively a fine dancer as well, but a bit sloppier than normal. The thing that was actually holding back her dancing abilities, were the damn red heels. Her feet ached and she didn’t think she would be able to keep up with much more than a waltz in them.
The next song began after only half the length she had expected from a waltz, [Y/N]. It was a brisk foxtrot; all reliant on footwork. As Coriolanus led her into the first sidestep, [Y/N] kicked off her heels without missing a step. She harshly kicked them aside, sliding them to the edge of the dance floor. [Y/N] found she felt tiny now in front of Coriolanus. His smirk doubled at the sight as well. “Better?”
“Much. How about you shrink six inches next time so I don’t have to grow six inches. Seems fair to me.”
Coriolanus laughed cordially. His laugh turned into a sigh when he noticed [Y/N]’s lack of reply. “Are you angry with me?” He was aware that she usually was angry with him, he was asking specifically she to the conversation with her parents.
“Yes, why?”
“Because you’re being extremely rude.” Coriolanus said sharply.
“And?”
“No reason, just making conversation.”
Coriolanus couldn’t figure out what [Y/N] was looking at over his shoulder, but he didn’t care enough to ask. “Wanna make it up to me?” [Y/N] asked. “Posca wasn’t enough.”
“I’ll consider it. The terms?” He replied, spinning her through a tempo change.
“I want to make my parents hurt. I don’t live under their roof anymore. She’s been staring at me since I took my shoes off. See? I’m embarrassing her. And you know how big you owe me.”
This gave Coriolanus pause. Really, he didn’t owe her anything worth a damn. She was as bad to him as he was to her. “Why?”
“You said you could grant me opportunity. Grant me the opportunity of making her feel a fool for making me marry you, Coriolanus. I’m drunk. This offer is only going to work right now.”
“What’s in it for me?”
“Blowjob.”
“I have an idea,” Coriolanus said immediately. [Y/N] grinned. His job was having wicked, awful ideas, so it was nice when he delivered. “Do you trust me?”
“No.”
“By the end of tonight, you will,” Coriolanus grimaced. He rotated the pair of them on the dance floor so [Y/N]’s back was to them and he could keep eyes on her parents. “I’m going to touch you.” He whispered in her ear when the music shifted to something more akin to a rumba.
“What?”
In seconds, [Y/N] felt Coriolanus’ nose slide from where he had whispered in her ear and down her neck to above her pulse point. He planted one kiss to her throat. Coriolanus waited before kissing her again to make sure she didn’t throw him halfway across the event hall in rage first. After that, he felt he had the go-ahead to work more forcefully. Coriolanus sensually kissed hard up and down the right side of [Y/N]’s throat, while both of them tried to keep their fuzzy brains clear enough to keep dancing. He kept kissing and sucking at her neck until she let out a nice loud sound of pleasure. That was when he pulled away. He was happy to see a nice purple bruise starting to form on her exposed neck.
“How was that?” He asked dryly, trying to hold off a pending erection.
“You’re out of your mind. Do it again.”
“I’m pretty sure my boss is here, [Y/N]. That was… great, but unless there’s—“
“We got lectured our entire growing up at the Academy to make sure we were to be winners by any means necessary, Coriolanus. Push the envelope. It’s our night. We can do whatever we want. Let’s make it count, at least. With all these cameras here? You keep this up, and your face will be on every periodical in Panem.”
“Yeah, for terrible reasons!”
“Any press is good press and you know that. ‘TROUBLE IN THE ARENA?: GAMEMAKER’S FIANCÉE BREAKS DOWN AT PARTY,’” she said, showing a fictional headline example. “Below it, a nice picture of me crying and you dusting me off like a dutiful husband. Have your way with me and eventually I’ll snap and cry and accuse you of something you didn’t do, then you can ‘put me in place,’ so to speak. Control the fucking news cycle til everyone knows your name.”
[Y/N] could tell that Coriolanus had in fact agreed to gamble with his image when his hand slid down her back and grabbed her ass. His mouth ducked back into her neck as well, biting harder than [Y/N] expected. [Y/N] let out a painfully loud moan without meaning to.
“You want a show, let’s give ‘em a show.” He muttered against her skin. Coriolanus pulled his hips flush against his. The fabric of her ballgown being the only meaningful barrier between them. After a few moments, they had given up any chance at a rumba. Coriolanus stood over her, kissing her bruisingly hard anywhere we could reach.
“Coriolanus,” [Y/N] muttered. She gripped his shoulder tightly to steady herself. “Fuck, that feels good.”
Coriolanus took his hand out of the one that was clutching hers and slid it up to grab her face harshly between thumb and forefinger. “Can you shut up for a minute? I’ve let you run your mouth all day. It’s getting annoying,” He said, the mask of kindness slipping from his eyes. “You have had a complaint about everything. I put up with it, too. It’s getting… really,” Coriolanus’ hand gripped her ass harder over the ballgown. “Fucking annoying. You’re already making me do all this because I’m a dick. Stop being a brat. Please keep your mouth closed until I want it open, okay?”
He was holding her face so tightly that she couldn’t even nod. That’s when she saw the cameras start flashing, as Coriolanus gripped her by the face like a spoiled child and rubbed her ass in front of everyone she knew. “Yes.” She tried to mumble, but it came out squished.
“Great, then, we’re clear. Don’t think, just follow.” Coriolanus leaned forward and kissed her blazingly. That’s around the time [Y/N] could hear her mother in hysterics stomping to the bathroom. She sighed with relief, but also burned with humiliation. It felt like Coriolanus was practically trying to fuck her with her clothes on.
[Y/N] couldn’t believe this. This wasn’t brutally argumentative Snow, this wasn’t pseudo-gentle Snow. Who was this? What the fuck was he doing? Why did it feel good? [Y/N] felt a shiver tingle down her spine as he kissed her. Aggressively, she kissed back in an attempt at delivering that ruthlessness Coriolanus said he prized. He squashed that quickly and leaned her back, almost knocking her off her feet. She pulled back breathlessly.
[Y/N]’s eyes were darting around the room, watching everyone watching her. She was the show tonight. For the first time in her life, someone had made her the real center of attention that she always craved to me. Coriolanus granted her opportunity. It fucking worked. Her gaze shot back to Coriolanus, looking down at her possessively. He was mouthing something to her, but her intoxicated brain couldn’t signal her eyes to focus enough to piece together his words.
“What?” She whispered, leaning away from him.
More clearly this time, Coriolanus mouthed. “Hit. Me,” He leaned in close to her ear and whispered. “I told you. I’m leading; I have an idea.”
[Y/N] started to shake her head ‘no’ at her insane exhibitionist fiancé, but she remembered she was the one that had asked for a show. Without asking why, [Y/N] feigned disgust and stepped away from Coriolanus. She raised her hand and sharply slapped him across the face. This elicited gasps of shock from their guests. She could see a red mark beginning to develop on Coriolanus’ fair cheek.
Violence like this is what people in the Districts did. This was not what well-bred, promising youth from the Capitol did. The chatter in the room grew in the form of prying hushed whispers. The band stopped playing. This was not how beautiful young girls behaved at their engagement parties. [Y/N]’s stomach dropped. She looked angrily between her vile hand and the mark on Coriolanus’ face. Both of their expressions showed that she had hit him harder than they expected.
“How many men, [Y/N]?” Coriolanus asked, forcefully.
“What?” [Y/N] asked, shocked. She had no idea what he was talking about.
“How many men have had you behind my back?”
It was a fucking act. No truth to it at all. He wanted a rise out of her and so did the cameras. This was exactly what she had asked him, she didn’t realize how seriously he would take her.
[Y/N] sighed. She understood her role and she was going to play it perfectly. “One. Only one, I swear. None since you caught us in bed.” Lie. “Stop. We’re…” she glanced around, playing ashamed of the cameras. “We’re in public, Coriolanus. Please. Don’t cause a scene.” She said, parroting what he had said to her that morning.
That line did the trick. She saw the vein in his forehead pop out. “Don’t cause a scene? You struck me!” Coriolanus roared. “That’s unfair, and you know it.” The ghost of a smirk played on his lips while he clutched his face.
“You wouldn’t hear reason! The accusations you made of me, Coriolanus. You—You—“
Coriolanus surged forward and grabbed her by her forearms. “Accusations that are warranted. I don’t know how you expect me to trust you after something like that! Do you think I’m made of stone?”
“Yes!” [Y/N] yelled truthfully.
Coriolanus paused. “[Y/N], I hurt just as much as you do. You’re drunk. You’re not thinking straight,” He placated. “I just can’t stand to see how these men look at you like that, knowing you would trade me for them in a heartbeat.” He brought the tempo of their fight down with his false melancholy.
“Coriolanus…” [Y/N] said tentatively. “I wouldn’t… Not now. We’ve put that behind us. I-I’m yours and—“
“I made this whole night about you. I…” Coriolanus swallowed dramatically. “I love you.” Lie? “I love you, I spend all night trying to show you that I don’t want anyone but you. I try to make you feel special so you won’t stray again. And you, you hit me… I can’t do anything right enough for you.” He turned his face away, feigning hiding tears and released her arms.
Without the stabilizing touch of Coriolanus, [Y/N] was starting to feel uncertain on her feet from the alcohol. Far from gracefully, [Y/N] sank to the floor, her skirt fanning out around her as it had when she was searching for her shoe earlier that evening. From the drink, the tension and the state of her shambling life, [Y/N] let out an unexpected sob. Coriolanus turned his head in genuine surprise at the sound. “I’m sorry, my love,” she started through sniffles. “I’m sorry. Forgive me,” She looked up at him as her mascara began to drip down her cheeks. “Please forgive me. You have every right to leave, but please, Coriolanus, you’re all I have left.” That part was true. It was all gone. Her childhood home, the security of her parents, university and the Academy were behind her, taxing relationships with friends she had outgrown. Coriolanus was all that remained. [Y/N] cried harder. “I made a mistake.” She howled.
Coriolanus was impressed, to say the least. Cautiously, he knelt down in front of [Y/N]. He would remember this image of her for his whole life. With her mascara running, her stockings ripped, her shoes long missing, the top of her extravagant dress sliding too low for public consumption, she was divine, truthfully. That was her. That was how he would always want to remember her. “Darling?” He said quietly.
Now, the bastard was left open to play the dutiful savior, just as she had teased earlier.
[Y/N] started to twist the engagement ring off of her finger, theatrically. Coriolanus took her obvious bait and took her hand to stop her. He slid the ruby ring back down her finger calmly. “Darling, I’m not going anywhere. You’re drunk. You just need a little help, right? You mustn’t drink so much. It breaks my heart to see you like this,” Coriolanus squeezed her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly. “You need me. I’m not going anywhere. What kind of husband would that make me if I did?”
She nodded. “Thank you,” she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’re a good man, Coriolanus,” LIE. “You’re too good to me.”
“Come on,” Coriolanus rose from the floor and extended a hand to her. “Let’s get you home, huh?” He said condescendingly.
[Y/N] took his hand carefully. He pulled her up and she stumbled to her feet. Coriolanus wrapped an arm tightly around her waist and pulled her closer. He glanced around in surprise to address the crowd that had gathered in front of them. “I’m sorry for everything you just had to see. Please be kind to my fiancée; she’s had a lot to drink. Posca, right?” Coriolanus darkly attempted a somber joke. “I should’ve kept a closer eye on her. We’ll be getting home. Thank you all for coming out to celebrate us tonight.” Sorry to call it a night with so much night left.” He said softly.
Coriolanus led her to the edge of the dance floor where he had spotted her shoes. He grabbed the red shoes from the floor and carried them dangling from his free hand as he walked her to the door and down the stairs to the sidewalk. [Y/N] had a vague memory of Coriolanus summoning their driver via the valet at the door. She was too busy noticing how her stockings caught on the sidewalk with every step.
“Darling?” Coriolanus whispered, leaning down to whisper to her. “You were brilliant.”
“Really?” She sniffled hesitantly. “Because I’m fairly certain that everyone in that room hates me.”
“Any press is good press.” Coriolanus reminded her with a gentle kiss to the forehead.
“For you, maybe. I made a mistake asking for that…” she kicked at a stray stone on the sidewalk. “I am probably the biggest villain in Panem right now.” [Y/N] said, shaking her head a little with a sad laugh.
“Not a villain,” Coriolanus scoffed. “A star.”
PART II HERE
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babygorewhore · 3 months
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Daddy issues
After your dad is arrested, you try and beg for his job back. But Rafe Cameron decides another way for you to help your father. And his arrangement is different than you imagine.
Warnings! Daddy kink! Talks of violence! Slight reference to abuse! Choking! Blow job! Rough unprotected sex! Breeding kink! Virginity loss! Dirty talk!
You didnt know if you were more angry or surprised when you got the call from the officer that your dad was arrested and currently in jail for assault. You were finished working your late shift at the restaurant when your phone rang.
You screamed in your car on the way to the station. Your dad was a dead beat. An asshole who didn’t know how to fucking control his temper. Daddy dearest also liked to get loud with you, throw things when he didn’t get his way and one time he slapped you in the face.
You slapped him back and threatened to slash his tires. But the threat was empty considering he needed to work, which you had no idea how he kept his job at the docks while working for Rafe Cameron. It used to be his father Ward until his suicide. You’d met him often while picking your dad up, given you had to share a car.
He was…polite you could say. But he was also scary. He glared at everyone and he was short tempered. You usually heard him snapping or yelling if something wasn’t done right. Your dad complained about how strict he was.
But his status and wealth made everyone obey him and intimidated you. His attractiveness however was on another level. His height made you feel small and his blue eyes cut through people.
You slammed the door at the station and went to the desk. After signing in, you tapped your foot impatiently as an officer came up to you.
“Are you…?”
“My dad is here. He just got arrested.” You ground out. You hated being here. She nodded and looked at paperwork in front of her.
“Are you here to post bail?”
“I’m here to see if there’s any way we can clear this up as a misunderstanding.” You tried to plead but she shook her head.
“Ma’am, he attacked a man at a stoplight. He beat him up to the point he lost one of his teeth.”
You pressed your head against your hand. Jesus Christ it was worse than you thought. “How much is bail?”
She looked again at the paperwork. “Looks like we’re at 6,000 dollars.”
“What? I thought the bail was lower than that!” You shrieked.
“Ma’am. He also had multiple charges. Public intoxication, disturbance and assault. He caused a lot of trouble. I suggest you alert his job tomorrow. But until then, he’s going to spend at least 60 days in jail.”
You started crying. You couldn’t help it. It hurt so much. You couldn’t get a break. And now you’d have to face Rafe Cameron and face the humiliation of your dad being in jail.
You cried on and off the next day as you had to switch your schedule to the evening and make the phone call to your dads manager about his current situation. It was immediate termination and you broke down even harder in your bedroom. You refused to take his phone call, afraid you’d explode on him.
As you got ready for another dreaded work shift, your phone started ringing to a number you didn’t recognize. Hesitantly, you answered.
“Hello?”
“Your dads in jail, huh?” You immediately froze. It was Rafe’s voice. How did he-well he was capable of finding anything out.
“I-um. Yes. And he can’t work for you anymore. But if you’ll please reconsider. I know he’s a piece of shit but this is the only job he’s lasted out and we desperately need the money. I’m trying to get a car and we have to share one. I know this is probably pointless but I can’t help but try. So please, please take him back.” More tears came and you felt like a total cry baby but you pushed through.
You expected him to laugh but instead silence met you.
You bit your lip hard enough it bled.
“Meet me at my house. I’ll text you the address. I have a proposition for you.”
“Why can’t you tell me over the phone?” Your stomach tightened.
“Do you want me to help you or not?”
“Yes. Of course. I’ll be there.”
“Good girl.”
You set the phone down but seconds later his address came through in a text and your breath stopped short. He wanted to see you after work.
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Five minutes before closing and after you finished cleaning, the drive to Rafe’s house wasn’t that far and now you knocked on his door. When he answered, you tried not to reveal how much you found him attractive. His hair was in his face and his eyes were glazed as he looked down at you. His fingers twitched and you imagined what he was doing with that hand…
Rafe gestured with his head for you to come in and you followed him inside the massive penthouse. He had everything you imagined. Expensive furniture, floors and lights.
You followed him to the kitchen where he pointed to the bar stool. “Have a seat.” He muttered.
You obeyed and watched as he circled the island in the center of the room. “So. You wanna save your dads job?”
“Yes. I’m willing to do anything-“ You stopped short when a smirk fell on his face.
“Anything?” Rafe challenged. “It looked like you hated him whenever I saw you talk to him.”
“It’s complicated.” You replied and his smirk grew into a cruel smile.
“Looks like someone has daddy issues.” Rafe countered and you crossed your arms.
“I-well when you put it that way-“
“I’m just bringing up what you’re telling me. Your dad beats the shit out of someone. He went to jail-and now you’re doing anything you can to fix it. Tell me if I missed anything.” Rafe’s voice was low and you hated that he was right.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound pushy. I’m just in a tight spot.”
“Oh I’m sure you’re in a…tight spot.” His meaning was clear and you swallowed.
That was the exchange.
“Look at you. Being a little smart girl and figuring it out. I’m gonna get to the point. You want me to take him back? Bail him out? I get to fuck you. Anywhere. Anytime. And anyplace I want. No condoms. No hidden birth control. No. I wanna see my cum leak out of that desperate pussy.”
Your mouth opened and closed. “I can’t just fuck a stranger. And no birth control? I can’t fucking get pregnant.”
“I’m a selfish whore, baby. And I can afford one. And those are my terms. Either that. Or your dad rots.”
You bit your lip. You weren’t in a position to say no. You needed the money. And Rafe was hot. There were worse guys. Rafe got closer, his big hands reaching to cup the side of your neck.
“Yeah? You want it?”
Slowly, you nodded.
Rafe crooked a finger, signaling you to come closer. You stepped down and approached him gingerly and looked into his gaze. Rafe then latched his hand around your throat. His grip was so strong your feet almost lifted in the air and your eyes widened as he crushed his lips to yours.
His lips devoured you as he shoved his tongue into your mouth. You weren’t experienced. Sure, you’d touched yourself and made out with people.
But actual fucking? You’d never done that. And you knew that was about to change.
“You want me to take care of you, don’t you?” Rafe loosened his hold on your neck and pressed you against the island counter, “need someone to be your daddy?”
Your hands flew to his chest as you brought him impossibly closer, his lips sucked your skin with bruising force. You opened your mouth as he slipped his fingers inside.
“Suck.” He commanded and you listened. Spit gathering on your lips as he kneed your legs apart and lifted you up on the counter.
“Need daddy to help you? Fill you up with my cum?” His dirty words made your cunt twitch as he started toying the end of your skirt. Your thighs dampened as he trailed his thick fingers along your flesh, his fingers grazing the wet patch of your underwear.
You started grinding to give any friction against your arousal as he apparently changed his mind and threw you to the ground by underneath your arms. Rafe gestured to the crotch of his pants. “Consider this your first payment, baby. You ever done this before?”
You shakily remained silent as he huffed an amused laugh.
“Really? A girl who’s such a perv that she’s willing to fuck someone giving her money? Never would have guessed. I guess I’ll be nice and help you.”
Rafe undressed his lower half, his cock leaked with precum and he took your hand. “Swipe it with your thumb, get it all wet.” His massive hand compared to yours was almost comical as he grabbed the back of your head.
“Open your mouth, princess. And remember to breathe through your nose.”
After that, he silenced whatever worries you had by shoving his dick forward. You run your tongue along the thick underside, lessening some of the heavy weight by massaging with your hand. You took the tip through your mouth, shoving down any nerves as you sucked. Rafe bobbed your head up and down as he pushed you further, your head bouncing as your eyes squeezed shut.
“No, no, open your slutty eyes and look at me.” He growled. He leaned over the arch of the space between the counter and where you sank on your knees. The skin of his cock was supple as you continued aiding with your hand. It was hot to the touch.
“Good fucking girl. Maybe I’ll reward you by fucking your pussy.” He started thrusting and hitting the back of your throat. “Breathe. Breathe through your nose.” He wiped a few tears away with his thumb as you listened to him.
You knew he was getting closer as he stopped talking, his breathing heavier as he moved your head. His cum spilled inside your mouth, as he released you and you coughed.
“Not bad for your first time. We’re gonna practice some more.” Rafe smirked as his face was flushed and his fist flexed.
He moved on top of you on the floor, hiking up your skirt and ripping off your panties. He spread apart your wet cunt and dipped his middle finger inside your clenching entrance. “You’re such a whore. Never done any of this and you’re already gonna cum. Should have known you’d be daddy’s cum slut.”
Rafe yanked your legs apart, and spit on your pussy. “Not that it needed it, but I’m gonna be a little more kind to you.” You shrieked as he grabbed your jaw.
“Are you on birth control?”
“No.” You quickly answered. “Never-never needed-“
“Good. And you’re not going to. Got it?” Rafe moaned as he pushed his tip in your pussy, “fuck you’re so tight.”
You winced from discomfort but then his knuckles hit your clit, aiding to relieve your tension as he circled them. “Gonna make you mine. Take you away from all that shit.” He grunted as he pushed further.
Rafe let you wrap your arms around his neck as he thrusted.
“Tell daddy you like it.”
“I like it.” You sobbed as he moved harder. “I like it, daddy.”
It was slightly shameful how quickly you came all over him and spilled onto your legs. Rafe also came again and you felt it inside you. He was serious about no protection.
He stayed for a few seconds before getting up. And pulling his pants back on. He extended his hand and pulled you up. You knew you were a sight to be seen, fucked out eyes and messy hair. You just lost your virginity to Rafe Cameron.
You cleared your throat and watched him sweep his eyes over your face. “So. My dad?”
He shrugged. “He’s already out.”
You paled. “What?”
“I posted bail a few minutes before you got here. But as for his job, you’re gonna have to work harder than that. I have conditions.”
“But I already said-“
“More than just fucking you, baby girl. I own you now. You are mine and no one gets to even think about fucking you. I will cross any line you make to keep me away. And if you try, I will punish you.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong.” You whimpered as he loomed over you.
“And?” He mocked. “You already agreed. You need me. Don’t you?” He cupped your jaw. Tightly but not as harsh.
“Yeah.” You leaned in to his touch. Your defenses are completely down. You needed care. You were always working. Always cleaning up after someone’s mess. And now…he was going to take care of you.
And either make your daddy issues better.
Or worse.
@xxhellfirebunnyxx @imyourdaninow @lesservillain @take-everything-you-can @slvt4jamesmarch @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @scene-and-dandylover @emsgoodthinkin
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ceilidho · 4 months
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prompt: IKEA soap/reader fic. PART 4. (read 1, 2, 3) tags: dubcon; nsfw
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You only realize after the fact that you may have miscalculated in thinking that this could be a one-time thing between the two of you. 
After listening to Johnny bitch and moan during the Christmas party about having to take time off work to spend the holidays with his very religious family, you delude yourself into thinking you’ll finally be able to have some peace and quiet around the store. Not literally, of course. Working during the holidays is always a recipe for exhaustion—parents coming in at the last minute to demand toys that have long since sold out, fights breaking out in every other aisle as customers fight for the last palatable set of Christmas ornaments and boxed fruit cake. 
You’re not delusional enough to think that work will be a piece of cake, but you are selfishly a little happy that you’ll finally get some time to breathe without Johnny hovering over your shoulder at all hours of your shift. Seasonal shoppers are as exhausting as always, but you get to sit alone in the breakroom with a cup of coffee in the morning right before your shift without someone staring at you or breathing into your personal bubble. 
Johnny spends his entire time off blowing up your phone, sending you pictures of his childhood home, calling you during your breaks, and sending you weird videos that seem to have been filmed entirely in the dark where you can’t see or hear anything apart from some weird squeaks and one loud grunt at the very end of the video that sounds kind of like—you close the video.
You spend the first few days of January dreading his return. The day of is like a shock to your nervous system, the whole morning spent pouring coffee with a trembling hand. 
“Hiya gorgeous,” he purrs when you clock in for your shift. You’re somewhat used to Johnny sneaking up behind you, so you don’t flinch this time when you feel the length of his body press up against you at the time clock. 
“Johnny, it’s seven in the morning,” you mutter out through pursed lips, shoulders stiff when he puts his hands on them and digs his thumbs into the tender points of your back. You bite back a moan.
“Missed ye, kitten. Cannae believe I went a whole week without hearing you purr.”
He could’ve phrased that a thousand other ways, but he just had to choose the one that would make you wince. He digs his thumbs in again, trying to push the moan out of you, but you tamp it down. You hold back a shudder when he plants his nose onto the crown of your head and inhales, drawing your scent into his lungs. 
“Where’ye assigned ta today? Jeff owes me a favour—gonna ask him if I can spend the day with ye so we can catch up.” 
You go still when he drops a firm kiss to the side of your head. “I’m…not sure. I haven’t checked the schedule yet.” It’s a half-lie. You may not have checked the schedule yet, but you know from having briefly chatted with your manager this morning in the parking lot where you’ll be spending most of your day.
Still, it means that you get to shake off Johnny for a bit. “Lemme go check for ye, okay, hen? Stay here, a’right?”
You watch him jog off down the hall to the breakroom before finally leaving. It’ll be better for you if you’re gone before he comes back. 
The first hour of your day is spent on softlines until Priya in jewellery randomly comes down with a chill and gets sent home early, forcing you to cover her section. Usually that wouldn’t be such a bad deal—it means you get to spend your shift helping people try on bracelets and rings, restocking the earring display, and leaning against the counter for hours at a time. It’s not a particularly busy station.  
While you're assigned to the jewellery section though, Johnny pops out of nowhere as you're helping a customer contemplating a birthday ring for his fiancé. With the kind of confidence that you’ve come to expect from Johnny, he uses your hand to model some of the rings, but this time it feels oddly weirdly intense. When he slides the first ring onto your finger, you can feel the way he holds his breath, even shudders a bit. He presses himself right up against you behind the display counter, hardness pressing against your hip. 
It doesn’t take long for your customer to leave. Johnny’s demeanour is off-putting, concerning even. You can’t fault the guy for being rightfully repulsed by the way Johnny crowds up against you like you’re alone together. 
“What are you doing?” you hiss through your teeth.
“Cannae help it, hen. I ken ye wanna wait, but it jus’ makes me a bit emotional seein’ my girl wearing a ring I put on.”
He blinks down at you with big, blue eyes, the picture of innocence. You should’ve anticipated there being a danger in letting Johnny stew over that on his own. Of course he’d come to his own conclusions, even one as deranged as thinking of your hook up as a step towards dating. You can’t help but side eye him. 
“We—we’re not a couple, Johnny.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Ye just let anybody eat you out in the supply closet then? S’that right?” It’s said rhetorically, like he knows the answer already. You flinch at the slight though.
“That was—” you cut yourself off to take a breath, an ache growing behind your forehead, “—that was a…it was a one-time thing. You can’t just act like we’re dating.”
His lips turn down in a pout, displeasure rippling across his face. You brace yourself for the inevitable argument, for shit to hit the fan, because obviously that’s what’s brewing under the surface. You brace yourself for worse too because when you happen to glance around, you realize how few people are actually milling around in the area. 
Then, instead of losing his temper, Johnny’s eyes grow smoky, heavy-lidded, and the pout lifts into a lazy, playful grin. “A’right, kitty, no’ dating then. That’s fine wi’ me.”
This time it’s you that frowns, staring up at him dubiously. “…Really?” It feels too sudden, quicksilver. Johnny’s fiery by nature, short tempered on his best days and more likely to grit his teeth and bear the displeasure of not getting his way than happily giving into it. His sudden smile is at odds with the version of him that exists in your mind, furious at you for denying him. 
Maybe you’ve got him all wrong. 
The gleam in his eye betrays nothing, however. “I swear.” He leans closer to you then, fingers fiddling with the name tag pinned over your chest on your work vest, straightening it. “Doesnae mean we have ta give the rest up though. Ye liked what we did in the closet, right, hen?”
It feels like he’s sucked the air out of the room, as big as it is. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about that.”
“Och, c’mon, kitty,” Johnny breathes, hunching just a little over and into your space, making the moment feel private, just the two of you. “Had to talk about it eventually. Did ye just expect that everything would go back to normal after ye let me eat ye out? Hey—” he catches you when you try to make a move to step away from him, wrapping a big hand around your wrist and tugging you closer to him, “—listen, kitty—it doesnae have to be anything serious, right? That’s what’s making ye all jumpy and nervous? I’ll lick your pussy, free of charge. Dinnae need any labels. How’s that sound, kitty? Dick on demand?”
It should repulse you. The way he speaks to you is crass, crude. His voice is hushed, haggard, fur stretched taut over stone—and yet, your hands tremble, just a little. It tempts you. Purring Scottish burr, lapis lazuli eyes, bristle cheeks that you still remember scraping up your inner thighs. He’s a package you can’t imagine sending back.
“You won’t get…you promise not to get weird about it?” you ask.
His smile curls up, impish. “Cross my heart, kitten.”
Maybe you’re delusional enough to think that you can have your cake and eat it too. There’s a voice in your head telling you to face the facts, but you disregard it as if you haven’t been working with Johnny for months. As if you aren’t aware of his penchant for saying or doing anything to get his way. It’s maybe naive of you. 
All you know is that he smothers a laugh when you tell him you’ll think about it. Knows he’s got you right where he wants.
You don’t fight when he drags you into the single-stall bathroom towards the end of your shift, letting him position you in front of the mirror before sinking to his knees behind you. Forces you to watch the way you come apart on his tongue, not giving you his fingers until you beg him to, the whispered plea a hairsbreadth away from becoming a scream. 
“Oh, did she miss me?” Johnny breathes, a happy laugh in his voice when he runs the broad side of his tongue over your entrance from the back. “Fuck, look at that. Winked at me ‘n everythin’. Hi darling, missed ye too.”
You don’t think you’ll ever be the same after hearing that come out of his mouth. You go hot all over again when you clench involuntarily, equal parts turned on and horrified. He sniggers before trying to cram his whole tongue up into you. 
There’s a moment of panic when Johnny draws up behind you after making you come and you hear him undo his pants. There’s nowhere for you to go with your pants still looped around your ankles, underwear pulled all the way down as well. You hear yourself hiss a startled Johnny when he slots a fat cock between your thighs, staring dumbly at the reflection of him behind you. At your back, he seems massive, lean and trim but towering over you, broad. 
He shushes you. “Dinnae be selfish, hen—gotta get mine too. Jus’ gonna fuck your thighs, dinnae fret.”
You squeak when he pushes your thighs together forcefully, dragging his cock over your folds to wet himself. Watching Johnny fuck is nothing like staring down at him when he eats you out. He pants harsh and ragged into the side of your head, nips at your ear. The glint in his eyes goes animalistic, vacant. Human desire recedes, subsumed into the animal part of his brain with the single-minded need to fuck. 
The only thing keeping him from driving up into you, accidentally or not, is the way you keep your thighs pressed together. A warm, tight channel for him to push his cock into. Thick fingers dig into your waist, sure to leave bruises. You wince when lean hips pound against your backside, growing frantic as need overtakes him. You flirt at the edge of panic, certain that at any second, he’ll pull your thighs apart and nudge the head of his cock up into you. 
“Jus’ like that, fuck,” he grunts. “Be a good little fuckin’ girl and jus’ let me—”
His tongue lolls out on a particularly rough thrust, hands groping over your belly and up to your chest, slipping his hand under your shirt and bra to pinch your nipple. He twists it mean, nasty, until you have no choice but to grunt through grit teeth, eyes watering. You feel like a doll meant for his pleasure, no choice but to grip the sides of the sink and let Johnny use you until he comes. 
“Fuck,” Johnny groans, eyes going half-lidded. “Love makin’ this pussy come. Love gettin’ her all messy and wet. Lettin’ me between your thighs even when I make ye nervous—fuck, ‘m gonna come, ‘m gonna—fuck, fuck, fuck—”
White come stripes the sink in front of you, thick and viscous. Paints the inside of your thighs as well when he drags his hips back until just the head of his cock sits nestled up against your sex. Hyperconscious of where it tags your inner lips, that there’s no barrier between the two of you, just come and skin. 
The full body shake shocks you, a ripple from your heels to the top of your head. 
His free hand grasps you by the hair when you try to slip away. “Ye gonna clean up your mess, baby?”
You glance back up at his reflection in the mirror, trying to suss him out. Shark-like eyes meet yours. Something you’ve seen in glances before finally staring back at you with full force. You reach for the paper towel dispenser with a shaking hand. 
“Nah,” Johnny scolds, giving you a shake. “With your mouth.”
The command hangs in the air, no joke or laugh to undercut it. His eyes read serious to you, still dark. No leniency present in the blue. 
You stare down at his come on the sink, slack-jawed. “You don’t seriously mean—”
“Jus’ kidding, silly,” he chuckles, giving a teasing bite to your earlobe and tugging. The tension in the air disperses. “Got ye, huh?” 
You force a laugh. “Yeah…got me.”
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