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#use it against me to do whatever you want to me
rafeandonlyrafe · 2 days
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angel of a daughter
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words: 2.2k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, stepcest, stepdad!rafe, p in v sex, unprotected sex, virgin!reader, female receiving oral, fingering, breeding, fertility issues (from mother), reader is described as having big boobs, kinda pregnancy kink from rafe but more talk of sex while pregnant, cheating (no daddy kink)
“i got the results back.” your mom says, her voice low and sad, revealing her results with her tone alone. “the doctor says theres no way.” “i’m sorry, mama.” you pout, wrapping your arms around her shoulders. you hate that you feel a bit of relief. your mom had you young, a teenager knocked up by another teenager who ran off the second he heard his girlfriend got pregnant.
your mom raised you until you were a teenager yourself, doing everything by herself until your stepdad came into the picture. he inserted himself perfectly into your life, but expected to have kids of his own.
“whats the plan then?” you question as your stepdad comes into the living room, setting a glass of water down in front of your mom. you sit on either side of her, showing your support. “adoption? surrogate?” 
you like being an only child. you like it just being you, mom, and rafe, but at the same time, you want your mom to be happy, and if a baby gives her that, you'll adjust for her.
“actually…” rafe clears his throat. “we were hoping you’d be willing to help out.”
“yeah, of course.” you nod. “anyway i can.” 
you don’t realize what rafe means until later. you assumed it was just help researching adoption agencies, or finding a surrogate, but as rafe hovers over you, you realize he means to breed you.
“m-my mom can’t be okay with this.” you stutter out, body stiff against the bed, trapped as you blink up at rafe, body caging you over the mattress.
“she thinks you’re going to get inseminated.” he huffs out, breath warm against your face. “and in a way you are. a natural way.”
“i-i-” you stutter out. “i don't know about this.”
“come on, i see the way you look at me.” rafe shifts his weight to one hand, gliding down the other down your torso, squeezing your hip gently. “i know you want this.”
“you're married to my mom!” your eyes are wide, but a spark does ignite inside of you. “you're my stepdad!”
“and you’re going to be doing both of us such a big favor, pretty girl.” rafe coos, his fingers running along the material of your shorts, stroking closer and closer to your center every time.
“i-i guess it would be easier than going to a doctor.” you’re sure it involves waivers and legal shit that your mind just can’t even wrap around.
“exactly!” rafe smiles down at you, glad for your naivety. “besides, im making you feel good... you’ll get pregnant, and both of us will feel real good.”
“how many times will we get to do it?” you whisper, hands reaching up to touch rafes cheeks, running your finger down the smooth planes. “like, it probably won’t take the first time.”
“as many times as we have to babygirl. and i’ll take real good care of you during your pregnancy. rub your feet, buy whatever you are craving, eat you out.” rafe loves the way your eyes blow wide.
“thats not appropriate!” your mom has lectured you long and hard about sexual experiences and above all how important it is to wait so you don’t become pregnant young like she did. and now she is asking you to allow your stepdad to breed you when you’re freshly out of your teen years.
“its okay, its just you helping us out so im helping you back out in return.” rafe moves his hand up to cup your cheek. “let me show you.”
he leans down to press your lips together in a kiss. you lay frozen for a moment before beginning to move back, reciprocating the kiss as your hands fist into his shirt, tugging him lower.
you let out a moan into his mouth and rafe has to pull away to chuckle. “see, i knew you wanted me babygirl.”
“yeah.” you nod. “okay, lets do this.” damn the consequences, you can think about them later.
“good.” he coos out, lips back against yours quickly as his hand gropes at your breast, rubbing them through your tanktop. you’ve always been insecure about the size of your chest, but as rafe lowers down to look at them, you think about them in a whole new light.
“these are gonna feed our baby so well.” he says, tugging at the hem of your shirt, lower and lower until it breeches the swell of your breasts and they pop out the top. you don’t ask who he means by ‘our’. you can indulge in the fantasy that it’s just you and rafe. that your mom is still in the picture, but only in the role as your mother, not the one of rafes baby. 
rafe wraps his lips around your nipple, sucking deeply into his mouth, so in contrast to what it must feel like to have an infant feeding.
“i-more.” you gasp out as rafes fingers play with your other nipple, rolling and pinching at it until they’re both stiff peaks.
“i can’t wait to fuck you baby.” rafe says, helping you sit up just slightly to pull your shirt off, the small pajama shorts the only barrier you have left on your body. rafe also tugs his shirt off. you’ve seen him shirtless before in the pool or on your boat, but its different in this low lighting, so intimate and close. 
“gonna eat your pretty pussy first though.” rafe tugs your shorts down, your thighs pressing together to allow you to keep that part of yourself hidden for a moment longer, before rafe is pushing at your legs and slotting himself onto the bed in between them.
“aww.” rafe smiles, looking much more like a boy your age with his grin rather than your stepfather. “i knew she’d be cute.” his hands stroke over your inner thighs. “have you ever had a guy eat your pussy before?”
“no.” you shake your head. “never done anything with a guy.” you’ve kissed past boyfriends, but it never went beyond that.
“im gonna be your first?” theres a spark in rafes eye when he realizes that you’re a virgin. that he’s going to deflower you, fill you up. 
“y-yeah.” you nod. 
rafe wants you to cum once with his mouth and fingers first to open you up and get you wetter before he fucks you, so he wastes no more time, pushing his face forward between your legs, tongue swiping over your folds as you scream out in pleasure. 
rafe is glad as your moans increase with every flick of his tongue and glide of his lips that he chose to sneak into your room in a time when your mom was gone, off to the spa with her girlfriends, no doubt sharing to them her recent doctors trip and how her angel of a daughter agreed to be a surrogate so her and rafe could have a baby of their own.
“you taste so good.” rafe says. he isn’t one to enjoy giving head often, but you really are the sweetest taste on his lips. he focuses in on your clit as your entire body stiffens before relaxing, sighing out as your head becomes fuzzier and fuzzier with every touch of rafes mouth.
“do you touch yourself here?” rafe asks, pressing kisses to your clit, making out with it just like he did you mouth.
“no.” you shake your head. you occasionally grinded yourself into a pillow stuffed between your legs to get off when you got too overwhelmed, but you never reached your hand in your pants to feel yourself.
“what about here?” rafe brings his hand to your cunt, finger circling around your entrance.
your eyes widen again, that gloriously innocent startled look that has rafe grinding into the bed to give his cock some sort of relief.
“never!” you shake your head.
rafe just smiles, going back to focusing on your clit as his finger pushes in. you’re so wet it’s not difficult at all, but he can feel the way you squeeze around his digit, getting used to the feeling of the intrusion.
“relax for me, princess.” rafe says, sucking at your clit as he begins to move his finger in and out until he’s able to easily pump, the delicious squelching of your wetness filling the room with his every movement.
“gonna add a second, okay?” rafe talks you through the process, not wanting to do something to scare you into changing your mind. “gotta open you up for my cock, baby.”
rafe pushes a second finger into your entrance, working you open until he feels your body stiffen, his concentration going to your clit as he works you through your orgasm, your high so suddenly breeching that your body locks up and you let out a scream.
“shh, i got you.” rafe kisses along your mound as you work through it, pussy clenching around his fingers as he scissors them, knowing he needs you looser to fit inside.
“that-” you gasp out, mouth suddenly feeling dry. “that was so good.” “yeah?” rafe smiles up at you. “i can keep helping you feel that way, baby.”
“mhm.” you nod, not sure how you’ll ever go without now that you’ve felt the high that rafe can get you.
“can i fuck you now?” he questions. as much as he’s ready to go right now, if he has to build you up to allow him inside bare, he would wait.
“yeah.” your voice is dripping with eagerness. “yeah, yes please. just need a drink of water first.”
you sit up slightly, going to reach for your water bottle on your bedside table, but rafe moves quicker, helping you bring the bottle to your lips and suck the water down, pulling away with a gasp as a drop of water glides down your chin, reaching your throat before rafes tongue is on your skin, tasting the sheen of sweat as he follows the wet trail up to your lips, kissing you to keep your mind occupied.
he works his pants and underwear off while you’re wrapped up in the kiss, your hands stroking through his hair, playing with the strands. 
rafe moves your legs to wrap around his hips as he holds onto his cock, swiping it through your folds. he taps the head against your sensitive swollen clit, making you pull away with a gasp.
“stay nice and relaxed for me, baby.” rafe says, pressing kisses to your jaw as he lines up with your entrance. he pushes in slowly, your eyes clenching shut as your chest moves up and down with each breath, trying to keep your body relaxed like rafe said.
“there ya go.” rafe says, halfway inside your cunt. “good girl.”
he pushes as far in as your pussy allows, both of you sitting in that moment, relishing in the feeling of being joined together as you stretch to accommodate his large length, shifting your hips side to side and up and down to get used to the feeling.
“i gotta move, baby.” rafe says, his voice sounding strained.
“yeah, go ahead.” you nod. despite your affirmation, rafe continues to move slowly, his hips swinging back before pressing forward, carefully building up a rhythm.
“it feels really good.” you tell rafe, your cheeks flushed bright pink, hair fanned out on the pillow around you like a glowing halo.
“yeah, yeah.” rafe nods rapidly, his grip on control quickly loosening. “you feel so good too.”
rafe knows he should stop, but he loves the way your body reacts to his dirty words. “you’re so tight around me. i love this pussy. so much better than your mamas. gonna give me a baby, right?”
“i-yeah.” you nod. “fill me up.”
rafes loosening control shatters, his hips swinging forward fast, burying his cock inside of you as the pace instantly triples. you let out a squeal, the sheets gripped in your hands as he pounds into you.
“gonna fill up your pretty little cunnie, baby.” rafe grunts out, his own forehead sheening with sweat from his effort, his muscles straining as he pushes up then down, up then down.
“want it so bad.” you whine. 
“fuck.” rafe gasps out, mouth dropping open, his lips shiny from eating you out. “can’t last much longer. gonna cum.”
you experiment, clenching your pussy around his cock, and judging by rafes reaction of a loud moan and curse, you can tell he likes it. you continue, squeezing every time he pulls out, wanting to keep his cock wrapped in your warmth.
“i-im cumming.” rafe gasps out, his cock growing inside of you before your eyes widen, suddenly feeling warmth spreading as his cum fills you, his cock pressing in even harder, hoping it reaches your womb.
“god.” rafe groans, lowering his body on top of yours, but you don’t care about the weight as you smile.
“we’re gonna keep doing that?” you ask, running your hand down his back.
rafe looks up at you. “oh, of course baby. gonna keep fucking you while you’re pregnant too, maybe you’ll give us twins.”
you roll your eyes and giggle at rafe. “thats not how it works, silly!” “oh, what do you know?” rafe smirks at you. “you haven’t even had sex before!”
“well… i have now.” you mumble, shifting your hips from side to side, rafes cock still lodged deep inside of you.
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rafesmuse · 2 days
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how do you think rafes baddie girlfriend would react to him trying to be possessive and controlling of her at a party?
god, she would have none of it. she’s her own person who knows exactly what she wants and will never let a man, including rafe, tell her what she can and cannot do. it frustrates and irritates him. he wants you to be all his, even though you already are— but it never seems to be enough for him.
you can feel rafe’s burning eyes following you with every move you make at the party, your hips swaying to the beat as you have your arms wrapped around your friend while dancing with her. he taps his rings restlessly against the glass beer bottle while glancing around the room with narrowed eyes, taking in all the guys who are staring at you with lust.
he tries not to lose his cool, knowing you fucking hate it when he's controlling, but when he notices some drunk guys talking to each other while pointing at his girl, he has had enough. rafe could easily guess what they were talking about, almost recognising his old, single self and his friends in that group, treating girls like objects to be used solely for their pleasure— the thought of them doing the same to you causes anger to rage through his entire body.
you’re in your own world, nothing on your mind except the music pounding in your ears, when all of a sudden you feel a strong hand wrapped around your arm, causing you to flinch before seeing your boyfriend’s towering frame standing over you, his intense blue eyes gazing down at you.
“cut that shit out, yeah? everyone in this goddamn room is practically eye fucking you, for fucks sake. you gotta behave, makin’ me look like a fucking idiot here.” “behave? rafe, helloo?! i’m literally just dancing? you’re so fucking dramatic, holy fucking shit. now either join me or leave— but i think i already know the answer to that, mr. stiff hips.” you snap, looking him up and down with a disapproving expression on your face, not in the slightest bit amused by his controlling behaviour.
he scoffs, tongue poking the inside of his cheek in annoyance,“if that’s how you wanna play this, then a’ight”, eyes momentarily leaving yours as he rubs his face with his mind racing, before returning his gaze to you. “but by the end of the night, you’re gonna fucking regret it.” “yeah yeah, whatever tough boy, we’ll see about that.”
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minniesmutt · 3 days
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☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐬𝐨𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐝
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☾ ━━━ PAIRING: I.N X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: CNC, ROLEPLAY (INTRUDER & VICTIM), MANHANDELING, FINGERING, DEGRADING, CHOKING, (1) PUSSY & CLIT SLAP, SPIT, GROPING, MIRROR SEX, COCKWARMING, CLIT PLAY, SQUIRTING, OVERSTIM, (1) SPANK, DYCRYPHILIA, BREEDING KINK, AFTERCARE, CREAMPIE ☾ ━━━ WC: 2K ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog
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     “You home baby?” Jeongin called into the apartment.
     “Bedroom.” he heard her call back
     The idol made his way up to the bedroom, finding her folding their laundry. He came up behind her and held her hips as he kissed her temple, “Hi.”
     “Hi,” Y/n greeted as she turned her head to him, pecking his lips
     “Bought the mask before I left work,” He told her as he sat on the bed and took over the folding so she could start putting the clothes away
     “You did?!” Y/n asked
     “Yeah,” Jeongin said as she walked back over to the bed and he pulled her down onto his lap, “Tell me what you want me to do to you in it.”
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     It was eerily silent in the apartment. Y/n was used to the silence of the apartment. Something was just off about today but she tried not to think about it. Setting her stuff down, slipped off her shoes and walked to her room. Ready to shower and crawl into her bed. 
     Y/n made her way into the en-suite bathroom and turned on the water, letting it heat up as she stripped out of her work clothing. Tossing the clothes in the hamper and getting in the shower. Washing away the day of work and stress. The weird feeling lingered in the back of her head for the entire duration of her shower. 
     Y/n grabbed a towel from the rack next to her shower. Wrapping her body before stepping out of the shower. She walked back into her room to put on some pajamas and go to sleep. That was her plan but nothing wanted to go as planned for her today.
     As soon as she reached her closet to pull something out, her mouth was covered and pulled back against someone. She screamed into whatever was covering her mouth while trying to keep her towel up at the same time and fight back     
     “Keep fighting and see where that gets you.” A deep voice said in her ear.
     Fight or flight had already kicked in her and it wasn’t stopping as she tried getting him off her but he had strength over her. He pushed her forward onto the bed before turning her onto her back and standing between her legs. All the movement loosened the towel on her.
     “Let me—” Before she could finish her sentence, a hand was gripping her throat tight. Killing any words in her throat.
     “Just don’t know how to listen do you, dumb slut.”
     Y/n tried pulling his hand away from her neck and trying to use her legs to kick him off. The only thing her actions did was unravel the towel from her body. Which the intruder noticed before she did.
     His free hand moved and groped one of her tits and Y/n froze. Finally seeing the elongated white and black mask hiding his face. But she could tell he was smiling as he squeezed the mound.
     Not even a second later, he pulled the towel out from under her and turned her back on her stomach. Pushing her knees under her as he got behind her and pulled her head back. “Walking around with nothing but a towel on, begging for anyone to bend over and use.” He groaned in her ear.
     “No,” Y/n whined as his other hand went between her legs, fingers finding her clit.
     “Hm?” He asked while she was squirming against him from the stimulation on the bud.
     Y/n grabbed onto his wrists to try and pull him away from her but he was quicker to push her back down on the bed. Holding her head down into the mattress as his other hand moved back behind her before coming down on her cunt. 
     Y/n screamed into the mattress as two fingers prodded her hole. “All wet. Could slip a cock inside this tight fucking hole with no problem.”
     All her protests were muffled as she tried pushing up against him. His fingers moved deeper into her and curled up into her walls as she tried to bite back a moan.
     “Trying to watch yourself get fucked?” He teased before pulling her back up and moving their position. Sitting on the edge of the bed and putting her in his lap, her legs hanging over his.
     He grabbed her chin and made her look forward. Y/n realized he had them right in front of her full-length mirror. Y/n tried covering herself with her hands but he didn’t let that last long. Managed to pull his belt from his wrists and bind her wrists together behind her back before his fingers were plugging her up again.
     “There we go. Now you’re just a complacent little fuck doll,” He said behind her.
     Y/n whined as his fingers picked up a quick pace fucking her open. His hand that held her jaw came up and pried her mouth open. Sticking his fingers in her mouth so she couldn’t hide any of her noises from him. 
     Y/n clenched around his fingers just for him to slow down the pace or change it altogether. Whining as he would switch from fucking the digits into her to curling them up against her walls. Taking them out a couple of times and spreading her slick around her folds and her clit.
     Y/n tried closing her eyes. Hoping it was a dream but the harsh slap on her clit told her it was reality. Her eyes snapped open as he shoved his fingers further into her mouth. Droll dripping down her chin.
     “Can’t handle having just a couple fingers in you?” He asked, slipping three fingers into her
     Y/n moaned as the fingers fucked into her and he took his other hand out of her mouth. His hand smeared her saliva over her chest before groping her chest again. Fingers rolling each nipple between his fingers. Y/n clenched around the fingers inside her and arched her back as he pinched her nipple.
     “Gonna cum on my fingers,” He teased behind her
     “No,” Y/n moaned
     “Hm? You know you want to. I’ll fuck you nice and full if you cum.”
     Y/n whined as his fingertips prodded at the soft spot inside her. Very quickly unraveling the knot that formed in her stomach. Cumming on the man’s fingers as she squirmed in his lap.
     “Good girl,” he groaned, fingers continuing to fuck her through the high. Not stopping while she came down either
     “‘S too much,” Y/n whined
     “Yeah? Seem’s like you can take it,” he whined as struggled in his lap.
     Somehow his pace picked up more. Y/n bit her bottom lip as he worked her quickly to another orgasm. Blinding her with how fast it was building. Trying to pull her arms out of their restraints as he kept going and toying with her breasts. 
     “No more. Please!” Y/n begged 
     “Hm?” he asked and Y/n could hear him grinning behind the mask. “Don’t act like you aren’t enjoying this. Getting fucked open like a whore and watching.”
     Y/n whined in response before she was throwing her head back and cumming again. He pulled his fingers out this time and watched as her lower half shook. 
     He pushed her back against him and managed to slip his hard cock out of her. Y/n whined as the shaft stood straight against her. Trying to get away
     “Let’s see how many times you can squirt,” he said as he maneuvered her to sink onto his dick. 
     Y/n had barely processed what happened to her last orgasm till he looked down to see her floor wet. Her whole body heated up as his fingers traveled to her clit. Rubbing the neglected bud and making her clench around the cock sitting in her
     “Fuck!” Y/n groaned
     His pace on her clit was relentless. His other hand had moved up and grabbed her neck again. Y/n gasped and squeezed around him as he squeezed her neck. 
     “Just a little cock whore aren’t you,” He groaned in her ear. 
     Y/n shook her head ‘no’ as she bucked her hips forward a bit.
     “No? You’re the one riding my dick now.”
     Y/n closed her eyes again as the knot tightened more and bucked her hips forward again. Legs feeling shaky over his as he rubbed her clit more and more till the knot snapped again. 
     “What a good whore,” he smiled as he gently slapped her clit a few times as rode out high on him. 
     “plea…” Y/n cried as he loosened his grip on her neck. He let her catch some air. 
     He said nothing as he pushed her legs to the floor. Making her stand on slightly wobbly legs as he held her bound wrists to keep her up. Cock easily slid back into her.
     “Eyes forward,” he commanded as slapped her ass
     Y/n whined and lifted her head. Locking eyes with the mask in the mirror as he chuckled. “Look at those tears.”
     Y/n tried blinking away the tears from her eyes as he stuffed two fingers back in her mouth. Degrading praises fell past the mask to her ears as he hammered into her. Her walls pulsed around him the sensitivity of her first two fingers’ orgasms. 
     Pleas fell on deaf ears— not like she could do much talking with how he was fucking her and his fingers in her mouth. 
     “Gonna fill this hole up. Leave you nice and full for the next person to use.”
     Y/n whined as she tried moving away from him with no luck, again. “Yeah? Like the thought of being used by whoever walks in? Maybe I’ll leave you nice and pregnant. Make sure everyone knows you belong to someone already.”
     Y/n squeezed the cock inside of her as more tears flowed freely from her eyes. The dick inside her twitched with each thrusting before white was painting her walls. His hard thrusts slowed while he pulled her back against him. Pulling his wet fingers out of her mouth and circling her swollen clit again. 
     Y/n let out a moan and leaned forward. Begging as best she could to stop. That it was too much but he was relentless. Playing with her poor clit till he had finished dumping inside her. His slow deep thrusts never stopped even when the knot in her stomach snapped again. Squirting on him again before the mask was ripped off her boyfriend’s face. 
     Jeongin threw the mask behind him on the bed and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend while she came down from her high. “You did so good baby,” Jeongin said as he kissed her shoulder 
     He sat down with her in his lap and untied her wrist, “Innie…”
     “I’m right here. Innies got you.”
     Y/n whined as he gently pulled her off his dick and laid her back on the bed. “More…”
     “No more right now pretty,” Jeongin gently kissed her lips, “Your legs were shaking. How about we clean up and cuddle?”
     “But I feel empty now.”
     “We’ll clean up then you can have me back inside you and we’ll watch that new drama. Okay?”
     Y/n nodded and let her boyfriend help her clean up. Getting her in the bath while he cleaned up the room from their scene. He joined her after and helped her wash up a bit before they were getting out. He wrapped them both in towels and led her to the bed.
     “No clothes,” Y/n whined as he grabbed some pajamas from their closet. 
     “I don’t want you getting cold baby,” Jeongin told her, yet complied with her request anyway. Making sure they were both dry before getting under the clean sheets. 
     The idol turned on the show before pulling her against him and slowly pushing his cock back into her as he promised. 
     “Your breeding kink was showing by the way,” Y/n told him after some time 
     “I’m not sorry. Need everyone to know who you belong to,” Jeongin teased and kissed her cheek.
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princessbrunette · 2 days
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JJ would be a master at gaslighting people to get away with thing like—
'No officer I was not having sex with my girlfriend in public, I have no idea what you mean 🙄'
꧁ ୨୧ ꧂
“sex? you think we were having se— babe, you hear this guy?” he laughs, still subtly trying to do up his belt as the sheriff shines his torch through his truck window. “look, shoupe— with all due respect, i think you need’a get your mind outta the gutter. now i don’t wanna be out here airing out all my girls business but she’s a devout catholic. ya, none of that premarital stuff it’s — it’s against the rules, okay? i don’t even like sex like that— that stuff’s overrated—”
“then why was the car shaking, son? this thing was rocking back and forth so hard i thought it oughta create a pothole. are you aware this is a residential street?”
“i am— i am actually aware this is a residential street because my uncle knew a guy who lived here once. he used to cook meth outta his garage so really you’re wastin’ your time on me when you could be arresting that guy— anyway, off topic— the reason the car was rocking was because there was… a bug. on my pants…aaand, it caused some ruckus i’ll admit— you may have heard some screamin’— or other things of that… variety. but i killed the bug, so… it’s fine now. issue resolved.” he trails off, itching behind his ear.
shoupe shines his torch at you, and you look away to hide your disheveled appearance, and he turns his attention back on your boyfriend. “how’s that explain the lipstick prints all over you then, huh?”
“oh this? this isn’t lipstick— how could it be lipstick? she’s not even wearin’ any!” jj gestures to you with an obvious expression.
“yeah, not anymore, ‘cos it’s all over you.” shoupe argues.
“look, this right here is a rash, and i’m super insecure about it so i don’t really appreciate you bringin’ that up right now, shoupe.” jj forces emotion into his voice and the sheriff sighs, standing up straight from his leant over position in the window, deciding this wasn’t worth his time.
“alright, you know what— i’m gonna let it slide, kids. go…do whatever you want in the privacy of your home… and please, for the love of all things holy wear protection. this town don’t need another one of you runnin’ round for another few years. atleast let me retire first.” shoupe steps back from the truck, waving them off and jj instantly jumps to turn his keys, ready to get out of there.
“yes sir.” he resigns, before eagerly peeling the car away from the scene.
꧁ ୨୧ ꧂
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bby-deerling · 19 hours
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Can you do a hc for zoro, law, kidd, and ace (or anyone else you chose) for the first time you let them go down on you? Like you never let them because (whatever reason you chose) and then one day you're extremely nervous and they ask and you say you wanna try it? (Bc maybe you heard a friend talk about it?)
If you aren't comfortable with this I AM SO SORRY PLEASE FORGIVE ME
(Also, just a little shy to come off anon bc you are like my hero and I'm nervous)
eeee nonny this is so good !! (and pleaseeee come off anon and talk to me u r so sweet!! <3)
going down on you for the first time (nsfw)
ft. zoro, law, kid, ace
cw: afab!reader, oral (reader receiving), teasing, marking, fingering
masterlist || commissions
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zoro
when zoro slides down your torso and pushes your panties to the side, you start stammering profusely. "y-you don't need to, i can just take care of you—" you sputter; this was zoro's first time with you—or with anyone, for that matter—and you didn't want all the focus to be on yourself.
zoro clicks his tongue in mild annoyance as he grips the back of your thighs. "nope. not letting you get all shy on me." he insists, pressing sloppy, heated kisses along your inner thigh. "what's wrong? you think i can't figure out how to do it?" he teases.
"no—" you start, intending to explain yourself, but the way he licks a stripe across your clit with the flat of his tongue shuts you up.
"then lay back and relax." he says with a smirk as his head eagerly buries itself between your legs.
despite your shyness, zoro wants to taste you so badly, though you don't realize just how much he craves it until his tongue starts dancing across your needy clit.
he's inexperienced and a little clumsy, but he's messy and passionate and it sends electricity racing through your veins. he's a quick learner, and picks up on everything that sends you reeling and doubles down accordingly.
will not stop until he makes you cum all over his tongue. he has a deep-seated need to prove himself—to be the best—and that extends to the bedroom too.
ace
"ace—" you whine out as his fingers curl against your sweet spot; he feels good, but you're craving something more. "use your tongue too..." you plead softly, making his eyebrows quirk up in surprise.
"you sure, babe? you never let me—" he starts, though you cut him off before he can finish his sentence.
"ace, please—i need it!" you whimper, voice dripping with need as you stare down at him with lust-blown pupils.
"yeah?" he whispers as his tongue rolls across your clit. you arch your back in response and twitch your hips against him, but the reaction from your body alone isn't enough for him. "tell me how much you need it." ace murmurs, intent on making you work for it.
he definitely teases you for finally breaking down and deciding to let him taste you. he's been wanting to for so long—he's just been waiting for you to ask for it.
not afraid to use his devil fruit power to take things up a notch. now that you're finally willing to let him eat you out, he want to pull out all the stops.
if you still haven't had enough when he makes you come undone, he's more than happy to let you grind your hips against his face until the sun comes up.
kid
"oh, so now you want me to do it?" kid asks, a crooked grin on his face—you'd asked him to go down on you after months of not letting him on account of not wanting his lipstick to smear everywhere the sun doesn't shine.
"c'mon, please, kid—" you beg, tangling your fingers through his hair as you try to nudge him downwards.
he smirks and lets out a dark laugh; the glint in his eye as he looks up at you is familiar—it was the type of feral hunger normally reserved for the battlefield, and feeling it directed towards you is intoxicating.
"alright, princess, i'll give it to you." he chuckles, sinking his teeth into your inner thigh and leaving a harsh bruise before moving upwards towards your clit.
despite his rough nature, kid is experienced, and knows exactly what he's doing with that evil, smart tongue of his. as with everything, he's brutal with it as he makes you cum, relentlessly licking at and sucking your clit, but the way your orgasm makes you shatter into a million pieces makes his methods worth it.
now that he's gotten you to beg for him to use his tongue on you once, it's his personal mission to make you do it again, and again, and again. he gains a certain type of satisfaction from turning you into a creature just as insatiable as he is.
he makes you wait for a little while before hopping into the shower afterwards; something about seeing the sloppy red marks from his lips litter your inner thighs and the top of your mound drives him crazy.
law
"hey, law?" you ask hesitantly, face turning pink as you try to ignore the way your heart thrums in its cage.
"mhm?" he hums, trailing kisses along your collarbone, though his sweet affection creeps to a halt when he feels you freeze up beneath him.
"i know i said that i don't like... being eaten out... but it's just because no one's ever done it properly for me before. but i've been thinking recently, and—" you ramble, words spilling off your tongue quickly and tangling into a nervous mess.
"you want me to go down on you?" he purrs as his lips curl into a satisfied smirk.
"please—" you squeak out; the reaction amuses law, and you feel a soft chuckle vibrate against your skin as he kisses his way down your torso.
law has no experience whatsoever before you, and has no idea what he's doing, but he's used his fingers to pull enough orgasms out of you by this point that he has a good idea of where to start.
he masks his inexperience with confidence and teasing remarks, which stops your mind from racing a mile a minute, and leaves you feeling relaxed and pliant for him as he experimentally drags his tongue across your clit.
admittedly, it takes him a little while to figure out quite what he's doing, but he doesn't mind spending all night with you writhing beneath him to make sure he gets it right. his ego soars when he finally gets you to come apart on his tongue, and he'll work twice as hard to get you to cum a second time if you don't stop him.
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fairuzfan · 3 days
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I never claimed Biden's policies never hurt anyone, but it is unfair to blame Biden for Covid when Covid began under the Trump administration and it was Trump's actions that led to its severity and damage. Biden at least attempted to mitigate Covid during the first year of his administration, but by then the damage was already extensive and the politicized culture around it made it impossible for Americans to cooperate and regulations to have any real affect. But blaming Biden for Covid is like blaming Hoover for the Great Depression.
Don't get me wrong, I hate Biden too. But no matter how awful our 2024 presidential choices are, they are our only possible choices for president. Our voting systems are messed up. 3rd party votes only work against us and lots of people also just opt out of voting, which is about as equally affective. The electoral college was founded on literal racism and slavery and is still imposed to this day. But that's the system we have to work with. It's rigged. It's awful. I KNOW.
And like I said voting is not the end all of political action, and reading some of these comments, I can understand your anger. For most elections, yes, a vote IS an endorsement and support for a politician. But presidential elections just don't work that same way. When you vote 3rd party, you might as well just handed over your right to vote to your representative. And I guarantee you your representative is either going to vote for Trump or Biden.
The presidential election is NOT the only election on the ballot. And all other elections in the US make it possible for 3rd party candidates to win. I will vote 3rd party wherever possible locally, and I encourage you to do so too.
Still, reading through all these comments, I have yet to hear an actual solution to this problem that is achievable by November. Our choices are Biden or Trump. That's it. I hate it too, but if you have any better, feasible ideas, please let me hear it.
Except it is an endorsement. Biden literally thinks "they'll get over it" (it being the genocide of palestinians) by the time election comes. He thinks that we will vote for him anyways so he'll do whatever he wants. That's literally an endorsement. The reason the Vote Uncommitted campaign is gaining traction is to threaten Biden into doing something. If he doesn't feel threatened, then he assumes we are going to vote for him no matter what. So that means it's an endorsement.
If Biden doesn't listen to us, that's on him for losing the election. Not on the people who want him to do something else. And I don't want trump to win. I don't. But I will never vote for a person who so brazenly killed my friends and family, lied to my face, and was so unbelievably arrogant in that he thinks he can do whatever the fuck he wants. Feel free to vote for Biden. Just don't say it's for anyone else.
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disneyprincemuke · 3 days
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a feeling so peculiar * fem!driver
the new season is finally starting and it doesn't start out as great as she'd expected
pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, mick schumacher x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, liam lawson x fem!driver
notes: whatever is on the masterlist for the 2025 season is all i'm going to write for the 2025 season (i think) and it's all angst so sry in advance
(series masterlist) | (📂 2025: fall from grace)
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for starters, she’s never been shy of being on the receiving end of bad news. or devastating news, or ones that feel earth-shattering.
she knows that because growing up in a male-dominated scene has prepared her for that. people used to tell her to give it up because she wouldn’t get anywhere with it, or not to get her hopes up expecting something from a place where she’s clearly not wanted.
but she’s made it this far to formula 1. with her best friends.
her first year in the sport, she climbed to a mere 6th place and ended 4th in her sophomore year. just months ago when the 2024 season had wrapped up, she was on top of the world. a woman in the top 5 of the driver’s championship — it’s definitely something.
to her, she expected that the only way was up.
she could not have been more wrong about that.
the lights have just gone out, the cars on the grid have just skidded off for the evening and she’s… in the garage? in liam’s garage, to be exact.
noise-cancelling headphones on her ears as she stares dreamily into the screen of data of liam’s car. realistically, she should be helping out because she’s always been big on numbers, but not today. something didn’t feel right.
she’d been so excited all winter break to get back into the car, hopping from all the adrenaline and glory she put in her pocket from the year before. only for her car to have an irreversible problem that would force her out of the race before it even began.
she didn’t even have a chance to participate in the first race of the season. no way to shut down all of the unwanted background noise of the critics of her involvement still in the sport.
“hey.” she feels a bump against her hip, flinching at the sudden intrusion of her thoughts. “brought you ice cream.”
her eyes flutter close and a sigh of relief passes her lips. she smiles and takes a small cup into her hands. “i was wondering where you’d run off to.”
matt grins. “you looked pretty upset so i went ahead and got you some ice cream. does it at least make you feel a little better?”
“yeah, a little,” she says softly, pursing her lips. “thank you.”
but there’s still a yearning in her chest to be the one in the car to race tonight. that’s not fair — how come liam gets to race this weekend and she doesn’t?
she thought about politely asking for his car, but she couldn’t get herself to do that to him. he’s now become one of her best friends after all.
“rocky.”
she tilts her head at the call of her name, turning around to meet a familiar pair of eyes. one that she’s honestly been avoiding all day from the turnout of the weekend.
sebastian had been the one to break the news to her: that she wouldn’t be able to participate in the race due to a fault in the car. she had simply nodded while tears formed in her eyes and turned to walk away from him.
if you were to ask sebastian, the lack of a response from her scared him.
“ice cream?” the girl offers with a small smile, extending her hand towards him.
sebastian glances down at the ice cream before lifting his hand to reveal a cup of himself. “matt got me a cup too,” he admits with a small grin. “i just wanted to check if you’re okay. with the car and the pulling out of the race…”
she smiles politely, lips pressed into a thin line. what exactly is she supposed to say to someone who doesn’t really have anything to do with the development of the car? well, he does have involvement in it — being a retired world champion warrants that kind of valuable input — but she hardly believes it’s his fault.
“it’s okay,” she says softly, feeding herself another spoonful of ice cream. she blinks as her answer registers in her head. she shakes her head with a small laugh. “i mean– i’m okay. it’s just one race.” she glances at matt, standing next to her. “right?”
matt blinks at her. caught off-guard by her sudden want of his opinion; he’s an actor, not a race car driver. he only knows more about one of the two and it’s the answer that his girlfriend wants to hear. so he nods, “right.”
she turns back to sebastian. “a little frustrating,” she shrugs, “but things like this happen. that’s what you always say.”
sebastian smiles. “you learn quick, kid,” he pats her head endearingly. “that’s a good grasp of the concept. you’ll be back on the track next week good as new, i promise.”
she nods, forcing herself to swallow down the words that sebastian spoke to her. but there’s a churning in her stomach that she cannot seem to ignore as she feels her appetite come to a halt suddenly.
she huffs softly as she turns back to the screen. things like this happen, she repeats in her head. surely it can’t get any worse than this.
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so it apparently can get worse.
she sits in the car slightly longer than she needs, eyes staring intensely at the steering wheel in her hands.
something’s not right, something’s off. something doesn’t feel okay.
she wants to blame something — rather someone — that isn’t the car. perhaps, she’s suddenly become the problem without her knowledge? it feels like something has shifted in the air recently because nothing seems to go her way anymore.
“is everything okay?”
she flinches at the sudden voice that fills her ears, reminded that she’s still sitting in her car in parc ferme. “yes,” she answers softly at first, “yeah. i’m okay. sorry. it was just a long race. i’m quite exhausted.”
“copy. let me know if you need help, okay? or if you need to talk. it was a tough race.”
a finish out of the points feels so foreign to her. to be two races into the new season and not be in the top 10 of the driver’s championship. this time last year, she was at least in the top 8 in the standings by the second race of the season.
not this time.
but a slow start isn’t so unheard of for her. it feels like the only thing she can do now is hope that everything gets better eventually. it can’t stay like this all year, right?
when she does arrive at her garage, though, it seems that sebastian is not the only one concerned about her first finish out of the points in almost a year. a crowd has formed in her garage, her friends all staring at her cautiously as they await to see the big reaction that they’ve been expecting from her.
“what?” she asks softly, putting her helmet down on one of the vacant tables. “why are you all staring at me like that?”
the silence doesn’t stop. eyes dart all over the garage, some avoiding her gaze and some staring right at her every couple of seconds.
logan is the first to step forward; the boost from mick prompting an annoyed click of his tongue as he throws his arms into the air. “you uh,” logan blinks at her, “didn’t finish in the points today. how are you feeling?”
she blinks back at him. “i’m,” she trails off and catches oscar’s stare, to which he immediately looks away, “okay?” she tilts her head and furrows her eyebrows. “are you guys okay? you’re acting kind of… weird.”
her friends’ consideration for her feelings during this trying time is valid. once upon a time, she couldn’t handle the outcome of her not finishing in the points. she just had — has — so much to prove.
but it’s just one time out of her many races.
liam smiles. “we’re just concerned.”
“well your concern is concerning,” she laughs sheepishly, now tearing the velcro from her neck and unzipping her race suit. “i’m 22 — i can handle my emotions when i finish outside of the points. also, not my first time.”
a lie. she actually wants to start throwing things around. perhaps the steering wheel since it’s the only part of the car that she could actually detach and yank around, unlike others.
but it’s just one race.
“yeah, but we’re just saying,” mick speaks with a smile, “if you need to scream and cry and vent because you were out of the points — you can talk to us.”
“i won’t even take it personally if it was because of the team orders,” liam adds with a grin. “you know what? i’ll even scream with you.”
there’s only one person she wants to scream with right now, and it’s the only person that isn’t directly involved in whatever the hell this is.
“as will i,” logan presses his lips together, “i feel like i need to scream into the void until my lungs give out actually.”
she runs a hand through her hair. “i’m okay,” she holds her hands in the air to stop any more chatter from her friends who decided they know her better than herself. “let’s freshen up and regroup at the mclaren camp. ice cream, right? maybe dinner? oscar made podium — we need to celebrate!”
oscar shakes his head, taking a step forward. “we really don’t have to. it’s okay, it’s not even a big deal.”
“no,” she says firmly, head snapping over to the australian. oscar flinches back at the way she’d turn to him with his hand pressed against his chest. it’s silly that after all these years, he still tries to minimise achievements when she’s not had the share of the glory. “i’ll see you guys in a bit. 40 minutes?” she looks around. “where’s matt?”
“in my garage getting ice cream,” mick smiles. “40 minutes, right?”
“yes,” she mutters, quickly dismissing them as she heads for the exit to the paddocks. “i’ll see you then.”
the air feels thick when she steps into the paddocks. the whispers are louder than they used to be and the stares are boring holes into her again.
a heavy sigh passes her lips as she picks up her feet into a run, heading straight for her racing home. she just needs to be alone; be by herself.
because surely, it can’t get worse than this.
right?
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taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @notawc @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @a-disturbing-self-reflection @mclarengf @inejismywife @love4lando @louvrepool
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rinneverse · 6 hours
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pspspsp,,, do you perhaps have a spare boothill thought or two ,, sfw or nsfw,,,
i most certainly do have a few spare boothill thoughts! mostly nsfw ( ¬‿¬) walk with me nonnie… heheheh this got a wee bit too out of hand and i dropped WAY more than a few thoughts (and i am also tipsy, so i apologize in advance if something doesn't make sense) regardless, i hope u rlly like this :3
cw. assorted boothill x f!reader thoughts, manhandling, biting, improper use of a lasso (bondage!), mentions of overstim, lack of stamina is a foreign concept to boothill, talk of cyborg dick and artificial cum, creampies. not proofread in the slightest if there are typos no there's not
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𓆩♡𓆪 the thing about boothill is how unafraid he is of manhandling you. while he's aware that humans are much more fragile than he, he knows your limits like the back of his hand and he knows what you can handle. you can take him like a big girl, can't you?
𓆩♡𓆪 he'll fold you in half, put you in all sorts of positions, toss you over his shoulder and pat your plush ass with a smug laugh. if you decide you want to ride him and get all tuckered out, thighs burning, the moment you're whining and babbling for his help he's already on it. big hands envelop your waist as he moves you to his whims.
𓆩♡𓆪 boothill likes to see you pleasure-drunk, entirely fucked out by the time he's done with you. he can go for as long as you need, baby; you just have to say the word. he can eat you out for hours, fuck you for double that, and still have enough energy to take care of you afterwards.
𓆩♡𓆪 cyborg sex has the potential to really get freaky tbh... he's definitely had chats with you about different 'attachments...' whatever you're into. he's definitely figured out which size makes you cum the most, and will indulge your every whim—especially when you shyly ask him "baby... can we go bigger?" (if he still had a human body, his dick would be rock fucking hard right now.) he's definitely looked into vibrating attachments. great heavens.
𓆩♡𓆪 SPEAKING OF attachments he's looked into: boothill has definitely found a way to creampie you. the tipping point for him deep diving into this was when you were just whinin' so pretty for him, begging for more, and you had let it slip that you wished so bad for him to be able to cum into you. lo and behold, he finds a solution and he surprises you by cumming deep in your aching cunt one night. the two of you definitely make a mess of your bedsheets by the end of the day (and you probably had the most earth-shattering orgasms you've ever had in your life).
𓆩♡𓆪 the day you finally asked him what his teeth would feel like, boothill's grinning like a maniac. he won't bite so hard that it hurts too much, but he knows how much you like the power he holds over you. sharp teeth sink into flesh, followed by a hot tongue that laves over the mark adoringly.
𓆩♡𓆪 another day he indulged you... there was one time he noticed you eyeing the lasso that hangs at his hips. he smiles wolfishly at you and asks, "like what you see, darlin'?" he's surprised when you shyly nod your head and look up at him with sweet doe eyes and asks if maybe... he'd consider using it in the bedroom?
𓆩♡𓆪 and oh, he did. he considered it maybe a little too hard (he jerked himself off far too many times that day). when the time came for him to use it on you, he was fiending. he ties your wrists to the bedposts and just goes to town, treating your cute body like a pretty little cum dump. he's definitely a big fan. especially when you can't run away from all the pleasure he wants to give you <3
𓆩♡𓆪 he doesn't look it, but i think he provides good aftercare. he knows how fragile the human body is firsthand: that's why he's a cyborg now. he'll take care of you. without fail, every time he's done with you, you're practically a puddle, exhausted and jelly-boned, and boothill is scooping you up into his metal arms. and yet despite the cool metal pressing against your flesh, you feel warm. maybe it's just the love pouring out of his every action, the way he treats your body with absolute reverence and adoration as he cleans you up and gets you ready for some rest.
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please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!
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teruuw · 17 hours
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just thinking about Boothill while on a 8 hours car ride . . :3
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So i was randomly thinking about the fact that, as we all know his whole body is made out of metal and overall cold and freezing material.
Now imagine sleeping with him, while it’s autumn / winter, and it’s freezing outside, heck you could turn into a cube of ice if you’d stand out there for more than 3 minutes; so of course you try to cover yourself up with as much blankets as possible, in your comfy bed, shared with your loving boyfriend boothill. . the thing is, he doesn’t suffer the cold, so he doesn’t use blankets, he doesn’t see the point in doing so and they just make him feel trapped and uncomfortable, so his whole body keeps on getting cold each minute.
As the clingy partner as he is, he wants to feel your body against his, cuddling up next to you, pressing long kiss against your shoulder. . how is he supposed to do that when you’re covered from head to toe ?? He slowly raises the blankets and slides himself in with you, making his way beside you, careful on not to wake you up. But as soon as his metallic hands touch your back, you swore you never jumped out of your bed so fast, shivers running up and down your whole body
“Boothill what the heck !? Why are you so damn cold !” you scream and look at him as if you’ve just seen a ghost. He whines in response after you got away from his grasp “darliiing. . come back to bed with me, i missed your warmth all night. .” a pout forms on his lips. “well, i did not miss your coldness, now go back to your side of the bed !” he gasps a little, in a too dramatic way “i didn’t think you could be so mean, to your own lover too. . !” “yeah yeah, whatever, i just wanna get some more sleep” you mumble as a yawn escapes your lips “well, we can continue on sleeping together against eachother” he’s trying to persuade you “no can do, mister, im not trying to freeze to death” you lay down, your back facing him. He lets out a long sigh before giving up, but he doesn’t move, he stares at your back a couple of minutes before falling asleep again, this time covered by the blankets.
The next thing you know, as soon as you wake up again, you find yourself on top of your boyfriend, his harms around your waist not letting you get away another time while still sleeping; but he’s not cold anymore, he’s oddly warm, but it’s nice. You make yourself more comfortable, head on his chest, before eventually you fall asleep, again.
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he’s oh so pretty i can’t do this
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Comfort Zone
Matt Sturniolo x Reader
masterlist (series)
Preview: Y/n starts the new semester at school. She happens to have the same exact schedule as one guy, Matt Sturniolo. He's known to be a 'bad boy.' Constantly ditching, tattoos, and not giving most people the time of day....but will that apply to you?
WARNINGS: 18+, smut, alcohol, parental abuse/neglect, overall mature themes, and more. (This is made for all parts)
A/N: Reblogs, likes, comments, and interactions are all VERY appreciated!!!
Comment to be added to the taglist!!
CHAPTER 5: Genie In A Bottle
Walking into school felt like being naked on a stage. Matt and I walked to our class with whispers clouding around us like smoke in a fire, suffocating me. I attempted to keep my composure, but overhearing everything made my feet stutter on the ground at an uneven pace. 
“--she must give really good head or something.” 
“Do you think she lost her virginity to him?” 
“She’s not even that pretty. I mean, look at her!” 
Every word was a devastation. I liked being looked over, no one analyzing my every move as if they knew me. Because, they didn’t. Now, that didn’t matter. Everyone was already forming their own perception of me–ones far from the truth. 
“Don’t listen to them, okay?” Matt says. I nod my head silently as we step through the threshold of the classroom. 
I plop down in the plastic chair. I brush my hair down as the static pulls it up to the back of the seat. Looking back towards the front of the classroom, I’m taken aback by the sight in front of me. 
The classroom is still semi-empty, but every seated student is turned around and looking at me. Every single person turns back around quickly once I make eye contact. Except one. 
The guy in front of me, someone on the football team of the school from my vague knowledge. “Hey, I’m Brandon. Heard you knocked up my boy Chris, hm?” He says. I feel my heart plummet in my chest. I’m speechless, not a single word forming in my mind. 
“Brandon,” I hear Matt’s voice spit from beside me. “--turn around and shut the fuck up.” He threatens. I sit frozen in place, my body unwilling to even take a breath of air. The tightness in my chest is impossibly constricting. 
Brandon scoffs, rolling his eyes at Matt before directing his gaze back to me. “Whatever, man.” He grumbles. “Didn’t even know you could talk, to be honest. Does Chris share with you? Does she give good-”
“Don’t talk to him like that.” I grit out from my clenched teeth. Who would want to talk to this idiot anyway? My blood boils as my knuckles crack from clenching my fists. 
“Knew Jeffery called you a bitch for a reason.” He mumbles, turning back around in his seat. I sigh roughly, pulling my elbows up on the table and burrying my head in my hands. My hair creates a shield around me as I focus on the table in front of me. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. 
I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. A sudden gleam of light catches my attention. I look down, seeing Matt’s hand sliding under my gaze, his phone lighting up in front of me. The glowing screen is opened on the Pokemon-Go game. 
I bring my head up, looking over at him as he gives me a small smile. He looks down at the phone and back up at me. I let my eyes wander back to the screen, tapping on the animated creature. 
_
Before I knew it, the bell signaling the end of the first block had rung. I snap out of my trance, looking over at Matt with his phone in hand. When my eyes shift, I see him already staring directly at me. His head is leaned against his propped-up arm, his whole body shifted inwards towards mine. 
I watch as his cheeks shift to a pink hue, his eyes averting to his backpack on the desk. He pulls out a small pack of gum from his front pocket of his bag, holding out a piece for me. I hesitantly take the piece of gum, unwrapping it and placing the minty wad in my mouth. 
He stands up, putting his hand flat out. I grab his phone, setting it in his hand as he laughs. I look around in confusion. What’s funny? The classroom is pretty much empty besides Mrs. Evans sitting and organizing papers on her desk. 
“Your hand.” He says. I watch as he slides his phone in his sweatshirt pocket, bringing his hand back out. I place my hand in his as he helps me get out from the desk chair. 
“Thanks,” I mumble. I drop his hand, noticing another student walking in for the next class. Looking at the time on my own phone, I notice two things. One, we only have a couple more minutes of passing period. Two, a text notification from my dad that skyrockets my anxiety.  
“You get going, I’ll meet you in class–I’m just gonna head to the bathroom real quick.” I state. He nods his head as we walk down the hallway. Walking up to the restrooms, I see him lean up against the brick wall, pulling out his phone. “You can go to class, I’ll just meet you there.” I suggest. 
He shakes his head, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ll wait.” He says. I huff, nodding my head and walking into the bathroom. 
As soon as I walk into a stall, I open my messages. 
[From Dad: Don’t come home until you learn not to touch my shit. I’m fucking trying, you’re making it worse.]
I’m not even just not enough–I make things worse. My eyes become blurry with tears. I stare up at the ceiling, trying to blink the wetness back, failing miserably. The warm liquid darts down my cheek, leaking un-comfortingly into my ear. 
Have I ever even been home? I wish she was here–maybe if she was here then things would be different. Maybe, he wouldn’t always be so bitter. Maybe, he would hug me. Maybe, my heart wouldn’t feel so broken through every single repetitive behavior. 
Why does it still hurt so much? 
I choke back a sob at the sound of the door to the bathroom creaking open. My eyes shut tight as I let out a sigh of pure exhaustion. It’s not even noon. 
“Y/n?” I freeze hearing Matt’s voice. I hear his footsteps pattern against the tile flooring. I watch as his sneakers peek out from underneath the stall door. “--are you okay?” He asks. 
I bite down on my cheek, hard. “Um, yeah-yeah, I’m…I’m okay.” I wince at my poor attempt to conceal the weakness in my voice as it cracks. I’m not weak, please don’t think I’m weak. 
“You’re not a very good liar.” He breathes out. I let out a dry laugh, clearing my cheeks from the wet tears. 
“I know.” I state. I hear him let out a heavy sigh. 
“Let’s just take you home, okay?” He voices. I let my hand fly up to my mouth, but I’m not faster than the cry that leaves my lips. Home. What home? “--hey, hey, hey, we can go back and take Trevor on a walk–or anything you want, okay? Can you come out?” His voice is soft, breathier than normal as if talking with his regular voice would make me break. 
I’m not weak. Am I? I shakily reach out, sliding the metal lock and pulling the door open. I keep my eyes trained to the floor with pure shame. I see his hand reach out, grabbing my own as he pulls me out of the stall. 
I follow his lead out of the bathroom, seeing the empty halls barren of any students. Did the bell already ring? 
_
The car ride back to his house was settled in a comfortable silence. I stared down at the text message on my phone, waiting for the words to not feel as if I was having a knife twisted in my back. But, each time I read over the words–it hurt just as much as the first time, if not worse. 
I see Matt reach over me from the passenger door propped open. When did he even park? He unbuckles my seatbelt, grabbing my backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. I shut off my phone, clenching it in my hand as I step out of the car. I hear the thud behind me as he closes the door. “Come on, Trevor definitely misses you.” He says. 
I squint my eyes at the bright surroundings. The thin layer of snow coating the ground reflects the sunny sky, making everything impossibly bright. Matt holds up his elbow as I let my hand twist around his arm. 
He jiggles his keys in the lock of the front door, scratches from the other side being heard. The door swings open, revealing Trevor, wagging his tail from side to side like a helicopter. “Hi, Trev!” Matt says in the baby-voice. I feel the smile creep onto my face, not being able to contain the joy from the sight before me. 
We both slide off our shoes, leaving them by the door. Matt walks forward with me still attached to his arm. I hear the light paws tapping behind us as we make our way into his room. His blinds are closed, a soft halo of light streaming in through the cracks. I breathe in the air, relaxing at the familiar scent. 
My chest starts to feel lighter. I set down my phone on his desk, running my hands through my hair. Matt plops down our bags, leaning them against his wall as he stands back up, placing his hands on his hips. “So,” he looks around. “--what can I do to make you feel better?” He asks, rubbing his hands together. 
His eyes meet mine as I suck in my bottom lips. “Honestly?” I start, meeting his soft gaze. “--distract me. Please.” 
“Say less, I got you.” He says with a gentle smile. 
_
The car ride had pursued with soft music playing in the back. I could hear him hum, strumming his fingers to the beat on the steering wheel. We had been in the car for quite some time, but stopped as we pulled up outside of a large building. 
I turn to face him as he pulls the keys out of the ignition. “What is this?” He scoffs, laughing dryly under his breath. “Out of my comfort zone, that’s for sure.” He mumbles. The building looks like some sort of fancy apartment complex, shooting up endlessly to the sky with large windows covering it almost entirely. 
I hear Matt’s door shut, watching as he jogs around to my side of the car. I open the door, seeing him pout. I laugh softly, grabbing his outreached hand. “I’m gonna start putting child-lock on.” He says in a completely serious tone. My gut clenches as I lean into him, letting out a chain of giggles as he continues pouting. 
“Yeah, okay.” I tease. I feel him squeeze my hand. “Now, what are we doing here exactly?” I ask. He sighs deeply, biting in his bottom lips. 
“Well,” he opens the front doors, gesturing for me to walk in. I do so, turning around as he reaches out, grabbing my hand back in his grip tighter than before. “I, um…I’m kinda scared of, um, elevators?” He says, his voice sounding higher. 
I nod, looking in front of us to see elevator doors and a bunch of buttons with different numbers to the side. I tug on his hand, but his feet stand in place as he gulps looking directly at the closed elevator doors. I walk back up to him, placing my hand on his chest. “You okay?” I ask. 
He doesn’t look down at me, only shaking his head furiously. I bring my hand up, rubbing his shoulder. His eyes shoot down to mine. “Nevermind, let’s–” I cut him off, tugging his hand along with me as I pressed the highest number button, thirty-two. 
“How about,” I turned back around, seeing his eyes fall down on me. “--we make a deal?” I voice. I see his eyebrows furrow as he starts rubbing along his jaw with his free hand. 
“Deal?” I nod my head, “Yep–anything. Whatever it takes to get you on this elevator, within reason obviously, we’ll make a deal.” I explain. His eyes dart around, his hand now running through his hair that falls perfectly. 
An innocent smile grows on his face. “I have three requests.” I push my head further, urging him to continue. He holds up his pointer finger. “One, you have to make sure I don’t have a panic attack on this death-trap.” He says. 
I laugh, nodding my head. “Got it, what’s your other two wishes for your genie?” I tease. His nose scrunches up as his head turns to the side in embarrassment. 
“Well…” he trails off. “I can’t think right now seeing the floor numbers–oh my god.” He exclaims, his eyes trained on the little screen above the elevator doors that shows the floor number it’s on. 
I pat his chest, “Give me the other two later, hm?” He gulps, nodding his head. I hear the ding sound behind me, turning around to see the elevator doors sliding open. The backside of the elevator is completely glass, the other sides being metal. 
I step in, hearing Matt’s feet drag on the floor before the elevator sinks in gently from the added weight. His grip on my hand becomes almost painful as the doors close. I squeeze his hand in my own, looking up to see him staring at the ceiling. 
“Hey, what’s your favorite color?” I ask. His eyes are shut tightly, his head pointed up to the ceiling. I tug on his hand, drawing his attention. 
“Huh?” He asks, letting out a large huff of air. 
“Your favorite color?” I repeat. He shakes his head, his eyes darting all around the elevator. I feel him start to wobble on his feet, swaying. I grab his shoulder, letting our hands drop. “Hey,” I grab the back of his neck, forcing him to look down instead of up at the mirror ceiling. “Look at me, Matt.”
His ocean eyes gleam down at me, glossed over with fear. I bring my hands up, cupping his face as his hands clasp around my forearms. “What’s your favorite color?” I repeat. He shakes his head, shutting his eyes tightly. “Matt, look at me, come on.” I plead. 
His breaths come out more uneven. I feel my heart clench at the sight of his face twisting in discomfort. I reach my hand up, running my nails along his scalp. He lets out a heavy breath, leaning into my touch. He winces at the sound of the elevator beeping from going up another floor. “Do you want to get off, Matt? I can press a button right now, this can all be over.” I voice softly.
His head falls forward, his silky hair covering his eyes. “No,” he whispers, looking back up at me. “--I just need you to distract me, but I can’t think.” He looks around, whipping his head back at me as he accidentally gazes out the glass pane wall. “I…I don’t even know what my favorite color is right now, I can’t think, I can’t think.” He mumbles. 
My eyes fall on his lips, my hands falling to rest on his shoulders. “Matt?” His eyes flicker to mine, his face relaxing as I stand up on my tip-toes, leaning closer. I feel his breath fan across my face, his eyes trailing down and back up from my lips to my eyes. 
“Please.” He says. I close the distance between us, his hands holding either side of my waist securely. His lips move against mine passionately. He leans down, pushing his lips harder against mine. I stumble back from the sudden change of balance. He pulls my waist closer to his front side. I take a couple steps back, following his lead as I feel my back press against the cold steel wall. 
He pulls away from my lips. I take a large gasp of air, my arms looping around his neck to hold myself up. He sucks in a breath, not hesitating before placing his lips back onto mine. A fiery heat swells in my body, tingles fluttering in my chest and stomach as I let his tongue dart into my mouth. 
Our lips fit together in perfect sync, dancing like choreography imprinted in our minds. His hands squeeze around my waist, pulling me impossibly closer. I hear a loud ring. We separate breathlessly as he rests his forehead against mine. I look up, meeting his eyes that are squinted from a soft smile. 
I attempt to catch my breath as the elevator doors start to slowly glide open. I blush, letting my hands fall as a elderly lady walks in the elevator. “Hello.” She greets with a gentle voice. I wave back as Matt tugs my hand. 
I walk in tow of Matt, watching as the lady laughs to herself as the doors close. As soon as the doors to the elevator close, I direct my attention to Matt. “Are we taking the stairs now?” I tease. He shakes his head, reaching out behind me. 
“Nope,” he says, retracting his hand with a smile. I turn around, seeing a glowing elevator button on the main floor level. I turn back to him, raising my eyebrows with a smile. 
“Trying to get me alone again?” I hear the elevator ping from behind us. His hands rest on my waist, back me into the empty elevator. He pressed me against the glass pane as I heard the doors shut. 
“Honestly?” He says, moving the hair from my neck and gleaming down at me. “Yeah.” He states, crashing his lips back onto mine.
I tangle my hand in the back of his hair, tugging slightly at the root. He groans against my mouth, the vibration shooting tingles through my entire body. His hands squeeze up and down my waist, landing on my hips. He tugs me by the hips closer to him, making my body slouch on the glass wall. 
He looks down at me with a smile. “Best,” he lands a kiss on my cheek. “--distraction,” his lips trail down my neck, leaving a wet kiss. “--ever.” he says. His lips trail up, making me shiver as they brush against my ear. I feel his teeth gently tug on the sensitive lobe, the hairs on my neck standing straight up. 
“How do you feel about elevators now, hm?” I tease. 
“Fucking love 'em,” he mumbles, trailing his hands up and down my sides. 
_
The elevator ride had ended with sore lips and flushed cheeks. We had driven back to the house, settling on his backyard swinging sofa. We sat in the familiar position, my bent knees over his lap as he let his hands massage my calves. 
The birds chirped happily as the sun loomed over us. I let the warmth sink into my skin, appreciating the moment. “What’s our other two wishes, hm? Aren’t I your genie?” I recall. I tilt my head down, watching him laugh softly. 
“Yeah…” he trails off, scratching at his stubble on his jaw. “Hmm….oh!” He looks over at me with a proud smirk. “My second wish is for you to go on an official date with me.” He requests. I feel the anxiety bubble in my stomach from the excitement of his words. 
“M-kay.” I responded. I feel an itch on my forearm, reaching under my sleeve to scratch the area. My fingers rub against the skin, my nails softly grazing my forearm. I feel a bump, the bump from my scar. Dad. “Hey, Matt?” I voice. I hear him hum in response, looking at me as I gulp loudly. “Can I–can I sleep over tonight?” I ask. The nerves rack down my body, my eyes starting to feel watery. I have nowhere else to go.
His lips tug up into a smile. “That was gonna be my third wish, of course.” He says. I feel my cheeks heat up as I look back up at the bright blue sky. My favorite color of blue, pale and soft. 
“What is your favorite color?” I ask, repeating the question from earlier.
“Blue.” He says. I look down at him with a smile, “Me too.” 
_
We had sun bathed in silence until Nick and Chris came home. When the two boys entered the household, they immediately brought ideas of what to do. We had settled on playing video games, Fortnite in specific. I had watched as Matt pressed the remote in his hand aggressively, cursing at the screen when bullets and explosions sounded. 
“You think you’re ready to give it a shot?” He asks. I shrug my shoulders while sitting on the edge of the bed. 
“I don’t really understand it–I have no idea what I’m doing.” I say.
He takes his headset off, placing it over my ear and onto my head. He adjusted it, making one ear uncovered. “I’ll help you, come here.” He directs. I stand by the monitor, crouching down as he types on the keyboard. 
I turn around, hearing him clear his throat. His hands grip me from behind on my hips. “Is this okay?” He asks, looking down at his lap. I blush, nodding softly. I feel him tug me onto his lap, his arms enveloping around my own. “Comfortable?” He asks, his breath fanning on the side of my head. 
My insides feel as if they are burning with excitement as I hum in response. He laughs gently, caressing my cheek. “You’re so cute.” he compliments. I feel my eyes widen as I scrunch my nose. 
“Shut up.” I whine. He dryly laughs at this, mumbling under his breath. 
“Okay, so,” he brings his hands over mine, making my fingers twitch on the controller. The character starts moving as I hear Chris and Nick through the headset, cursing and arguing. Matt reaches up, pulling me closer to his chest as he hits the soundboard on the keyboard. “I can hear them, sorry that they’re so loud.” He says. 
“Anyhow,” he shifts, guiding my actions as I begin to understand how to move the character.
_
The streams of sunlight had faded peering in from his blinds. I was still situated in his lap, but playing Club Penguin. He could tell when I had started to get stressed out from the overwhelming game, switching it and teaching me the cartoon penguin one. 
“I can’t believe you’ve never played this before! I would’ve assumed you have–especially given that your favorite animal is a penguin.” He says. I feel his chest shake with laughter from behind me. 
“DINNER!” I hear Chris shout. Matt taps my thigh as I get up from his lap. I feel my head get light, becoming dizzy as I sway on my feet. 
“Hey,” he grabs my hips, pulling me against his chest as he stands. “--you okay?” He asks. I nod my head lazily, regaining full vision as my body adjusts. 
“Just dizzy.” I remark. 
“Here, let’s go eat. I know my mom will be happy that you’re here.” He says. She’ll be happy that I’m here? The statement makes my heart fill with warmth as my lips turn upward. 
We make our way out to the kitchen, the aroma of food filling my nostrils. Homemade food. An actual meal. 
“Ah! Y/N! I was hoping I’d see you around soon! I made meatballs–the boy's favorite!” Marylou exclaims. I smile at her excitement. She sets down the pan in the middle of the counter, a stack of plates next to it. She wipes her hands off on each other, walking over to me with open arms. 
I laugh as she squeezes me in a tight hug. “Mom, don’t hurt her.” Matt says. I let myself fall more relaxed in Marylou's embrace as she loosened her grips slightly. 
“I’ll get the baby pictures out.” She threatens. My eyes darted to Matt’s, seeing him wide-eyed. He holds his hands up in defense. 
“Nevermind, I’ll shut up.” He says. Marylou pulls me back, even tighter. “Jokes on him–I’m showing you anyway.” she whispers loudly. I hear Matt groan from beside me, burying his face in his hands. 
_
Marylou was not kidding. We had eaten dinner, mostly Chris yapping about random things. The meatballs were heavenly–a family recipe that Marylou was happily offering to me. His father still hadn’t come home, caught up in some type of work apparently. 
We all made our way over to the living room sofa. Chris and Nick sat on one side of the ‘L’ sofa, while I sat between Marylou and Matt on the other side. She had a scrapbook in her lap, pointing at pictures of the young triplets. 
“How did you tell them all apart?” I ask. 
“Well,” she points to Chris. “--he has a birthmark on his back. Nick had always been a bit bigger, too.” Nick's lips tug into a straight line.
“What a lovely reminder.” He sarcastically remarks. 
Matt leans, placing his elbows on his knees. “Y/n has a birthmark too.” He says. Marylou looks over at me as I pull my hair to the side. “It looks like a smiley face, see!” He explains, his fingertip touching gently on my neck. 
“Oh! That’s adorable! Chris’s is just a blob.” She states, completely serious. I look over, seeing Chris throw his hands in the air. I laugh at his offense, Marylou turning over her shoulder to look at him. “--but he has such a cute smile! They all do!” She compliments. Nick softly shuts his eyes, shaking his head from left to right. 
“Mom.” They all whine in sync. 
“Do you have any baby pictures of yourself?” She asks. I shrug my shoulders. Did I? 
“I think I might, hold on, I’ll go check my phone.” I get up from the couch, grabbing my phone off the counter. It’s almost ten, no notifications from my dad. I huff in disappointment, opening my near-empty camera roll. I smile, seeing a picture of me as a toddler. 
The picture is sometime before I was ten. It was me, holding my moms hand. My mom was standing outside with me, we had just gotten back from a walk around the block. Her beanie on her head covered her thinning hair. She didn’t even look sick except for her deathly pale skin. 
Mrs. Evans had taken the picture. It was back when she used to teach at my elementary school in the next town over. She had sent me the picture out of the blue as soon as I had arrived in Somerville. She had asked to meet up, which I had initially ignored. But, when she told me she had something she wanted to give to me that belonged to my mom, I couldn’t refuse. 
It was my baby blanket, the one my mom had hand-knitted while laying in a hospital bed on bed-rest. She had been bored out of her mind. She had kept knitting, undoing the same ball of yarn to preserve material because we didn't have the money to buy more.
I watched her give up, her hands too weak to hold grip on the knitting-needle. 
“Actually,” I sat back down, Matt’s arm wrapping around me. “--this is the only one I have.” They both lean, looking at the picture displayed on my phone screen. 
“Oh…?” Marylou voices. Her tone grabs my attention, but Chris is quick to interrupt my thoughts. 
“You only have one picture on your phone? How!” Chris exclaims. I feel my body go rigid. It’s the only picture I have at all. Matt’s arm that rests behind me curls, his hand rubbing on my shoulder. I let myself sink into his hold, letting out a soft sigh. 
“You were just the cutest, huh?” Marylou says. I hum, not trusting my voice. I feel the cushion move from beneath me, watching as Matt stands up. He holds out a hand. 
“Yeah, now, if you’ll excuse us–I don’t need her seeing us naked in a bathtub together. Goodnight everyone.” He says. Marylou laughs, giving me a wave with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. 
“Goodnight.” They all chime. 
Matt pulls me up, holding my hand by his side. His feet slap on the ground softly as I follow his lead. He closes his bedroom door behind us. “Are you okay?” He asks. I nod my head, still unsure of my own voice. 
“Come on, wanna borrow some clothes?” He asks. I look down at my body, looking back up at him as a smile clouds his face. “--well, more.” He laughs. 
I shake my head, letting out a dry giggle. “I’m stealing your whole closet at this point.” I reason. He shrugs, rummaging through the clothes before yanking out numerous pieces of clothing.
“You look good in my clothes.” He points out. I feel my ears heat up as I let my eyes fall to my lap. “Here, a clean sweatshirt. I might ask if Nick has any bottoms for you–Madi sleeps over a lot, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.” He walks out of the room, leaving me with my thoughts and the sweatshirt. 
I greedily bring my hands down to the material, appreciating the soft material. It’s green, having stars embroidered on it. I look at the logo, seeing a price marked on it. 
$325
My eyes bulge out, dropping the sweatshirt on the bed as if it was poison ivy. I hear the wooden floors creek, footsteps seeming closer and closer. 
Matt walks through the door, tilting his head in confusion. He lets out a nervous laugh. “You good there?” I stand frozen, my mouth running dry. I shake my head. Matt walks over, setting a pair of PJ pants down on the bed. I feel the weight of the bed dip to my side, his arm curling around me. “What’s up–talk to me.” He urges. 
I bury my face in my hands, embarrassed beyond belief. “Can I just have a different sweatshirt?” I ask. He nods, walking over and flipping through hangers. 
“Do you not like that one? It’s one of my favorites.” He says, peeping over his shoulder to look at me. 
I shake my head furiously. “No,” I let my eyes falter to the green sweatshirt. I look over the fabric, scared I may have even left a fingerprint. “--it’s not that I don’t like it. It’s just…” I look back up at him to see him now facing me completely, a confused expression painted on his face. 
“It’s just…” He repeats. He walks closer. I watch as his feet plant right in front of my own. I let my eyes wander up to his, seeing him standing in front of me. His face holds a quick sympathetic smile. 
I let out a sigh, running my clammy hands over my thighs. “It’s just, I don’t even think I’ve ever held something worth three hundred dollars. Let alone–wear it.” And the fact that it’s his favorite weighed heavily on my subconscious. 
HIs hand pets down the side of my head, lifting me up by the chin. My eyes meet his, a soft smile apparent on his lips. “I want you to wear it.” I open my mouth to reason with him. He stops me by giving me a warning look. “--wear it for me, okay? I trust you. Plus, it’s just a hoodie.” He says. 
Yeah, a hoodie worth more than anything I own. 
I feel his warm hand caress my jaw. His thumb reaches up, dragging my bottom lip down as he stares into me with an unreadable gaze. His thumb glides down, my lip revolting back to its usual position. I nod my head, hypnotized by his pale eyes. 
He reaches over, setting something in my lap. “I’ll be back, I’m gonna go talk to my mom real quick. Do you need anything?” I shake my head. “--alright, I’ll be back in a couple minutes. Don’t miss me too much.” He remarks. 
I roll my eyes, making him laugh. He walks out the door, shutting it softly behind him. I look down, grasping the green hoodie carefully in my hands. I strip from his clothes I had been wearing, leaving myself in just my underwear. 
My eyes wander up, catching my own figure changing in his mirror leaned against the wall. I stand still, analyzing myself. Although I didn’t get to eat very much–I wasn’t very thin. It was as if my body learned to preserve any fat possible. I was grateful for it, it made everything not so obvious. 
I looked like a regular person. My hands wander over my semi-dry skin. I hadn’t even remembered the last time I was able to just go out and buy lotion. My skin has always been sensitive, especially in the dry winter. Everytime my nails scratched over my skin, a red mark identical to the path scratched appeared almost instantaneously. 
I pull the soft, heavy hoodie over my head. It drowns my entire arm, covering my hands. The waist of it falls slightly above mid-thigh. I pull the pants on, fitting them nearly perfect to my body. When’s the last time I had clothes that fit? 
All my clothes were baggy. Partly because of how worn down they had become over the years. Also because it was a lot of my dads old clothes. I refused to steal–my anxiety simply wouldn’t allow it. However, I would often wander to the lost-and-found at my previous school, picking up an item if I needed it and it sat longer than a week with no owner claiming it. 
I fold the clothes I had previously been wearing, setting them neatly on the nightstand. While setting them down, I hear a clank. Fuck, his cologne. 
Immense panic devastates my entire body. I whip my head, seeing the cologne bottle on the floor, seemingly in one piece. A knock sounds at the door, “Are ya decent?” Matt says, heavy with his boston-accent. 
My heart feels like it’s pulsing out of my chest. I reach over, seeing no cracks in the glass and sighing with relief. I place the bottle back in its original spot. “Yeah.” I answer. 
The door props open, Matt walking in and shutting it behind him. “Are you okay? I heard something–did you fall?” He asks. He walks over to his bathroom as I watch him from the edge of the bed. 
“Yeah, I’m all good. I accidentally knocked over your cologne–but it’s okay! It didn’t break! I am sorry for being so klutzy though.” I voice. He turns around, holding out a toothbrush to me with toothpaste on it. I take it, scrubbing my teeth as he does the same. 
He stops for a minute. “You’re fine, I like that you’re so clumsy.” He winks, continuing to brush his teeth. I blush, spitting in the sink and holding the toothbrush cluelessly. He rines his brush, placing it in the cup next to the faucet. Taking the brush from my hand, he does the same thing. 
I smile looking at his blue toothbrush next to my green one. I look over, seeing him smiling at me. A blush crawls onto my face as I quickly turn back to his bed. I plop down on his comforter, getting under the soft duvet. I pause, “Oh wait, what side do you sleep on?” I ask. 
He’s already laying down on the other side of the bed, placing a folded arm behind his head. His eyes are shut, but he slightly opens one. “I don’t care which side unless you do.” He says. I shake my head with a nervous smile, snuggling into the sheets further. 
I turn on my side, my back facing him as I curl into the pillow with my arms. The warmth curiates around me. “Actually,” I hear him shuffle, my body falling back as the mattress leans from weight. His arm wraps around my waist, pulling me to his chest. “--I want whatever side you're on–if that’s okay with you.” 
I nod my head. I feel him nuzzle his face into the crook of my neck. Shivers run from the bottom of my feet to the top of my spine. I let his body heat warm me up further, appreciating every ounce of warmth that my body desperately craved. 
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gutsby · 10 hours
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Benign
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Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader
Summary: Marrying a former Soviet sleeper agent was your first mistake. Letting curiosity get the better of you and saying his trigger words before sex was your second.
Warnings: 18+. DUBCON - Bucky is partly brainwashed; R is reluctant at first. Reliving past trauma (i.e., grief, prior HYDRA captivity). Rough, unprotected p-in-v.
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Marrying into the mob meant one of two things: turning a blind eye to your husband’s crimes or taking them up as your own. Most of the women who had gone before you chose the former, leading lives of willful ignorance while their spouses cut deals, shed blood, stole guns, and submitted only to the laws of secrecy and discretion.
You, unlike those wives, hadn’t had the luxury of choice.
Your life, unlike theirs, had been sold to a man you didn’t know, by a father you couldn’t stand, and now your dad was dead, and this man—your husband—was to blame.
The least Bucky could do was fuck you hard to say sorry.
But no, ever since the Winter Soldier had reared its ugly head that dreadful night in Madripoor two weeks prior, your husband hadn’t laid one finger on your body that was not soft, sweet, and sickeningly apologetic to you. He seemed almost scared to initiate sex, and when he did, couldn’t help but act like a touch might break you.
After all, one almost had. Those hands he’d hear you beg and plead to put on you now were the very same ones he’d used to kill dozens, if not hundreds, including blood of your own blood. To the world, Bucky’s reputation commanded fear. To his wife, now, he felt duly obliged to prove he was more—that you were safe with him, not from him. He’d carted you off to every GP, hematologist, nutritionist, and grief specialist lauded among Brooklyn’s elite to make that happen. Fast. Frankly, these days, the thought of fucking was the furthest thing from his mind.
Unbeknownst to Bucky, somewhere along the spectrum of grief, you’d already come to settle comfortably at the ‘Need-to-be-fucked-until-I-can-no-longer-think-or-feel’ phase, and every bone in your body was crying out for respite in the form of ruthless, mind-numbing sex. It didn’t make sense. You hardly knew what to do with it. You should have lashed out, shut down, cried rivers and lakes of tears for that integral part of family that had been lost, but for whatever reason, you had to go numb.
You wanted to do something really, really fucking dumb.
Remorseful as he was, Bucky and his explanations for who or what the Winter Soldier was had been sparse. He’d told you that he had once been held in captivity by HYDRA, had his brain re-wired some way to make him a merciless Soviet sleeper agent, and that the night in Madripoor was the first in ages he had been ‘activated.’ How did activation happen? Of course, he wouldn’t tell.
But Steve would.
Steve had told you everything you wanted to know about your soldat, describing in painstaking detail how he worked, trained, operated, and could be called to action. You were almost certain Rogers had said it all as a way to assure you that it wasn’t Bucky who’d killed your father—it was someone inside him. You were more than positive Steve had never intended for you to use his intel like this.
You hadn’t believed him. Couldn’t believe him. How the fuck could someone sever all ties to their conscious mind and just transform anew into a killer? You got to be hell-bent on knowing for certain whether it’d been Bucky or him, it, whatever the hell the Winter Solider was, and on knowing it now. If your husband was faking it all and simply using this persona to justify the killing, that would be it. Trust gone, marriage over. If he wasn’t, well…you hadn’t gotten that far into your own line of thinking.
“Tell me what you want, doll,” Bucky said, pulling you back to the present.
He shifted gently against you, cotton trousers raising the friction a little as he slotted between your legs. He was still dressed head-to-toe from his meeting that morning.
“I want you to fuck me. Make me cum. Please.”
You were bare, save for one small scrap of linen and lace that somehow passed as a nightie. Your gaze was soft.
Bucky didn’t want to say no, but he also felt too guilty to say yes. The way you were watching him now, eyes so helpless and pleading, body writhing for contact, he knew you didn’t want his touch so much as needed it. Desperately. Couldn’t bear to be burdened with grief so you brushed it aside, to the furthest recesses of your mind until all that was left was desire. Starvation, really.
He could satiate you for now, but that hunger might not ever leave. The corners of his lips twitched into a frown.
“Gentle?” he mumbled.
“Rough,” you countered.
“Baby—”
“I really don’t need another fucking lecture on death, Bucky. I know I’m not myself right now, but I can still make these decisions, okay? Don’t talk to me like I can’t.”
Anger flashed in your eyes for a second, then indignation, then nothing. Without much energy left, you pushed him away. Flopped back on the bed and, seeming to sink into yourself, heaved a low, feeble sigh.
“I know. Hey,” Bucky leaned over to press a touch to your tummy, and it made you want to hurl, “I’m sorry.”
You turned onto your side.
“You still don’t remember what happened?”
The question came suddenly, almost from somewhere outside your body, it seemed. For the hundredth time.
“No,” Bucky answered, for what felt like the thousandth.
“This Winter Soldier—”
“He isn’t me.”
“You didn’t know?”
“Couldn’t know. Wasn’t…programmed for it.”
Bucky was watching you now, eyes as contrite as they’d ever been while you rehashed this subject to the brink of tears. He never could stay composed when he saw you cry.
“Baby…” he started, arms reaching out for you.
Eyes still filling with tears, you shook your head and swatted him off. You sat up, and your brows pinched together in a look he couldn’t read. Contemplating.
At last, you made up your mind.
You would try something new—and really, really stupid:
“Zhelaniye.”
“What?”
Bucky’s own expression contorted with uncertainty.
“—semnadtsat, rzhaviy, rasvet—”
He heard that. He immediately wished he hadn’t.
“Wait—”
You were curious. You had no idea what you were doing.
“Baby, baby, stop—”
“—pech, devyat—”
You were speaking so fast, surely it wouldn’t work like that. Either way, he had to stop you. He seized your arms, giving a sharp, deliberate shake, pupils blown to the size of saucers in his eyes. There wasn’t much time.
“Don’t—”
“—adin—”
No time at all.
“—dothisdon’tfuckingdothishoneyplease.”
Losing himself already. Feeling it stir inside his mind.
“—dobroserdechniy—”
‘Kind-hearted.’ ‘Benign’. You truly had no clue what these words were liable to do, much less what they meant.
Having enunciated this last part, you swallowed. Took the tip of your tongue and rolled it left-to-right across the backs of your teeth, waiting for your speech to take effect like some magical performance before your eyes.
It hadn’t, it seemed. You blinked. He blinked. You sat in a protracted silence for what seemed like seventeen years, and presently, your stomach began to churn. Nothing happened—you’d been right about this fuckery all along.
Then you remembered one last word of the sequence.
Faintly, you said:
“Soldat.”
The man above you straightened. Sitting. Stiff. Still perched by your legs at a comfortable distance but regarding you now with a pointed stare. Expectancy made manifest in a simple, sharp glare from his eyes to yours.
“...Bucky?”
The look on his face grew even harder. For a time, he persisted in that strange and silent grimace, and just when you started to suspect he was faking this whole demeanor of deadened stoicism, you heard a voice. Clawing out of his throat but sounding nothing like him:
“Who the hell is Bucky?”
The words drove a fear to the greatest depths of your bones, and you hardly knew why. You stared back at the handsome, barren man still watching you with severity, and you couldn’t seem to find your husband anywhere.
“James?” You weren’t sure why you tried his name again. You just didn’t know what else to say.
The scowl seeped into his mouth, and he frowned.
“James,” he repeated, like the word was foreign to him.
You found yourself shuffling back on the bed just then—to what, you didn’t know. You just felt a gnawing need to put some space between you and this person, this glowering face, however you could. When he grabbed your ankle, you let out a startled sound, and when he followed you up on the bed, you did more than just whimper; you lifted your leg to knee him directly in the stomach. He caught it.
Then he stared again, expression bloodless and wan.
“You’re scaring me, Bucky.” Your voice trembled as you tried to free your leg from his fist—grip unusually strong.
The man paused another moment, if only to soak in your words and let his gaze trail over your face. Your exertions did not register. And, for the very first time, you felt as though you were something more like a plaything in your husband’s eyes—not a full-fledged human being but a system to be gamed. The feeling was so unsettling that you had to turn away.
Or try to, anyway.
Craning your neck just far enough to spy your phone on the nightstand, your first thought was Steve; he would know what to do. But before you could even think to twist and lift your body in that direction, you felt a hand yank you to the bed, flat on your back. You looked up at Bucky and found yourself caged between two arms. He lowered himself to his elbows, shifted his weight to one side, and seemed not to notice your movements at all when you tried to slide away. The man just splayed his hand across your stomach and pressed it firmly. Stay.
You weren’t one to shy away from a challenge—or keep hope alive against the odds. You put your hand over his.
“James—”
“Zhena.”
The abruptness of Bucky’s word stole the rest of yours. You cocked a brow and followed his gaze to your hand.
To the gaps between your fingers, then the touch that fanned across them to settle on one digit in particular.
Bucky thumbed at the diamond and smiled. He smiled.
“Zhena,” he repeated.
You blinked.
“I— you...gave me that, Bucky. You did.”
He hummed in acknowledgment.
Bucky stared at the ring for what could’ve been five seconds or several years, and then he did something unexpected. He shifted his touch to the bodice of your dress—again, if you could even call it that—and he began to tug at the satin bow situated between your breasts.
Of course, this nightie being designed for honeymoons and supremely easy access, it didn’t take much effort at all for the folds of your dress to come apart. Your breasts spilled out of the fabric without so much as a hint of protest, your torso was quick to become fully exposed, and suddenly, shortly, your hands were fumbling at your chest in an effort to regain some smidgen of modesty. Your husband just shook his head, following your hands.
“Moya zhena,” he said, a touch more emphasis and fervor to the first of the two words.
Now it was you who was shaking your head. Trying to pry his touch away as you slid up the bed. When he followed, you saw the icy expression had been supplanted by intrigue and, though you still felt ill at ease, you couldn’t deny you were curious to know what he was thinking. Who was thinking it? Soft, plush lips swiftly replaced his hands, and before you even knew what he was doing, Bucky, or someone, was latching onto your left breast. Using teeth to graze the hardened nub and send a ripple of thick, guilty pleasure coursing through you.
You whimpered. Bucky groaned.
Your fingers slotted through his hair with every intention of pushing him away, but when you tried, he just flicked his tongue and made another delicious sound against you.
You pushed with even more force, and he groaned again.
Not Bucky, not Bucky, not him, you have to—
“Stop!” you cried.
A set of soft, warm baby blues darted up to meet you.
Some flicker of recognition seemed to cross them, too.
“Honey?”
You almost lurched toward the sound. It was Bucky.
Suddenly, your hands were making fists in the collar of his crisp white button-up, and you were trying to yank him up. You murmured his name in disbelief, relief, and gathered him up in your arms to pull him in for a kiss.
The lips that met you were soft for a moment—just one.
Then the teeth reappeared. Harsh, jarring, biting. You jerked back at the sensation, and when you found his face again, it seemed your husband was lost to you all over. The eyes were attentive still—nowhere near as cold and aloof as they had been before—but they did not radiate the same warmth and admiration that Bucky’s always did. You almost couldn’t believe what you were seeing. He was gone, just like that, and there was nothing you could do to stop it from happening.
A broad palm cupped your cheek to bring you in for another kiss, and you weren’t sure if you should indulge. It didn’t seem you had much choice anyway, because the lips that were seeking yours were hungry. Starved. Searing into your mouth with a force you couldn’t refuse.
But something inside you wanted to find Bucky again.
Somewhere inside this stranger was lying dormant a trace of your husband; you’d seen it yourself, if only for a second. It made you curious. Where had he gone? What did he do when forced to retreat into this strange, preprogrammed being, and how could you get him back?
“Bucky,” you mumbled, more of a plea than a moan.
You were kissed harder than you had been in a long time. You didn’t have to think, or do, or breathe one puff of air that this man didn’t account for. His tongue wedged a gaping space in your wet, welcoming mouth for him to fill, and somehow, you didn’t feel the urge to protest. A familiarity in the way he kissed almost put you at ease, and when his body lifted slightly, yours lifted with it.
Before long, Bucky was sitting. Kneeling between your legs with an eye to your soft, shaking torso. You’d barely even come to notice just how hard you were breathing until you felt a palm on your stomach again. There was an oddly calming insinuation in that one simple touch.
And again, he smiled. Brighter than before.
“Nashe?” He sounded eager as he said it.
You peered up at him and raised an eyebrow in question. Perhaps you should’ve felt more exposed; after all, you were sitting half-naked with your husband’s assassin alter ego stroking your stomach and beaming over you, eyeing you expectantly, and you didn’t know what to say. Apart from the short set of words Steve had taught you, you were totally clueless to Russian, and you weren’t quite sure you were in a place to ask Bucky to translate.
When it seemed words might never come, the gleaming teeth above you were shrouded in a tighter, close-lipped smile, and Bucky nodded. Appearing to understand. Instead of forcing a response from you, he just let his hand migrate down your belly, fingers tracing the skin, then settle comfortably—momentarily—at the crest of your pubic bone. Then he pressed the heel of his palm into the place residing right below it, and without really meaning to, you moaned. A quiet maelstrom of pleasure circled low in your abdomen, threatening to draw noises from your throat you weren’t planning to make with every gentle gyration of Bucky’s lower hand.
You had to purse your lips to contain the sounds.
Again, he nodded.
“It’s okay,” he said, so quiet he almost couldn’t be heard.
He let the friction continue for a while like that: just palming you, watching you react to the simplest of motions against your swollen, aching clit and try not to writhe. At length, you squirmed a little bit. Bucky seemed to want to wait for something to happen, and when you bucked your hips, a look in his eye said that was enough.
He lowered himself between your legs. Shoulders bumping your thighs as he spread them apart, chest rising and falling in measured breaths, and lips smiling all the while. You sucked in a breath when his face came to rest just a few inches shy of your bare, aching warmth.
“Bucky?”
The man looked up at you and blinked.
“Yeah, honey?”
One thumb traced over the seam of your cunt, and your back nearly arched off the bed. There he was, again, gaze safe and secure to yours and hands moving in tandem as they always would. His tongue calmly followed suit. When you fisted his hair, he blinked once more and then directed his attention back to your wet, warm, velvety folds with a pointed look and a purpose.
The sound that escaped you next could hardly be classed as anything less than a scream, but the soft and unperturbed demeanor of the man between your legs showed he hadn’t noticed at all. He just sucked diligently—damn near dutifully—on your clit with a vigor you’d never felt, and when you yanked at his hair, he hummed.
It was like his lips had been trained for perfect suction; that was how well and thoroughly he descended upon your swollen little bud. An airtight kiss and a quick flick of his tongue, paired with his hot and heavy breaths fanning over your cunt, sent your senses into overdrive. Your toes curled inward, your throat let loose a gasp, and without fully realizing it, your walls were clamping down, pulsing and leaking out desire for more of this touch.
Then, without warning, Bucky brought a hand to the throbbing and slick cunt that was presently clenching around nothing, and he fed it two fingers. So forceful and deep he nearly buried his knuckles right along with them. Then he started scissoring those two fingers, sharply.
“Open, milaya,” he said. Again, it wasn’t entirely Bucky.
But you felt a faint remembrance there. You didn’t want him to stop. Maybe you were led astray by the gentle laps of his tongue or the prodding of his fingertips, or perhaps there was something stubbornly familiar about the way he was touching you now. You couldn’t tell.
All you knew was that both of your hands were holding tight to his head and begging him, wordlessly, for more.
Your moans rang all the way through the bedroom in your new, far-too-big penthouse apartment in Brooklyn, down the hall, reverberating through every inch of the space until all that could be heard were your sounds and his and the delectable little noises of your bodies working together. Bucky hadn’t even stirred to pleasure himself.
You wanted that part to change.
With your hip pinned to the mattress and Bucky’s tongue laving over your clit in ruthlessly quick movements, you probably would’ve liked to cum all over his mouth and fingers, but you wanted to see him pleased even more.
Just when he’d worked a third finger inside you and was driving you close to your peak, you pushed him away.
Bucky parted from your folds with a glistening chin and two furrowed eyebrows, clearly frustrated to have been torn from his mission before you reached completion, but you wouldn’t let that look linger for long. You used your leverage in his hair—however slight, comparatively, that grip might have been—to pull him up on the bed.
Bucky surprised you with just how swiftly he moved.
His steel-blue gaze was on yours in a second, equally penetrating and soft.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“Nothing—”
“My baby okay?”
He surprised you again; this time by how quick his demeanor was to shift the second he sensed something was wrong. Just like Bucky. It had to be him in there.
You nodded, still out of breath from the wonders he’d been working with his tongue. You squeezed his arm and tried to coax him toward you, to help him lower his body some, and when he seemed uncertain, you offered a smile. It’s okay to touch, you won’t break anything.
Bucky eyed you skeptically, but it was clear he was more wary of himself than of you. He glanced over your body, briefly to his, then slowly, apprehensively, sank down.
“Just fine,” you mumbled, hooking your legs around his back the second his chest was close enough to yours.
You felt an uptick in his heartbeat when your heels dug a little more firmly into the waistband of his pants. While your hands started working their way toward the front of that fabric, wedging clumsily between your bodies, his gaze flitted to yours, and his brows drew even tighter together. He didn’t try to stop you, but he certainly seemed confused as to why you wanted to include him so soon. Why you cared to show concern for him at all.
You noticed that then, and in just about every moment preceding, the man was taken aback by kindness.
Whether it was pulling him closer to you, tugging his pants down with a tender touch, running your fingers across the bulge in his boxers, or simply nodding your head and letting him know it was okay to touch you back, Bucky seemed unaccustomed to any care in this area.
When your fingers made it around his cock and started stroking him, gently, he just might’ve come apart.
His chest shuddered with the inhale of a short, strained breath, and his eyelids fluttered, as if meaning to close.
Bucky’s jaw clenched, and he started to shake his head.
“No, let me—”
“Let me,” you finished for him, wrist flicking back and forth quietly. You paused just to rub a quick touch between your folds, collect some arousal, then return to touching him when he met your eyes again and allowed you to continue. You skimmed his sensitive underside with your palm and let the warmth of him bleed into your fingertips as you worked him up to a comfortable pace.
Bucky rutted into your touch, probably harder than he meant to. Then he planted a hand beside your head and anchored his weight above you so that he was close enough to reach your lips—but he didn’t kiss you.
His expression hardened again, and he forcibly removed himself from the pulse of your fingers. He frowned.
“You want me to fuck you, no? Make you cum?”
He sounded irritated again.
Briefly, you recalled your words from earlier and nodded. It was true, you’d said it to him like that, and you’d meant it. You just couldn’t make sense of what he wanted now.
It seemed Bucky couldn’t wait to indulge you any longer. He fisted his cock in one hand, angled the head just outside of your cunt, and burst in with one thrust.
“Then let me,” he muttered, plunging down to the hilt.
The first go was rough, and the second was no kinder. Bucky’s face screwed up with indifference again, like he wanted to get something out of his brain and just do.
Like there was a task at hand that needed to be finished.
You couldn’t deny it felt fine at first. Fucking edifying after all those horrific thoughts had been eating away at your mind and rousing your own hunger for numbness. The drive of Bucky’s thick girth in and out, in and out repeatedly was no doubt capable of rendering you dumb. But being slammed into and taken so roughly was only good for you when you knew he was feeling good too.
This Bucky was back to being entirely flinty and lifeless—practically devoid of all emotion as he railed into you.
The back of your head was forced into the pillow with the weight of each thrust and Bucky’s thumb pushing into your chin—‘Better, milaya? Is this better for you?’—and frankly, you wanted to push him back and ask the same.
But you couldn’t. The pace he’d set was suffocating, and the stretch of his cock inside you was unusually tough.
Instead, you sank your nails into his arm and mumbled:
“Bucky.”
The man’s thrusts were both stabbing and rhythmic, sending a welt of pleasure blossoming up in your chest. You tried again:
“Bucky.”
He blinked.
And slowed.
“Bucky,” he mumbled back.
Seemingly mindless and mechanical, he snaked a hand behind your head to lift your face and tilt it toward the sight below: his cock splitting you open before him, parting your insides with an easy, welcome glide through the slick of your folds. You watched as your arousal enveloped him fully. Not a single inch of his rock-hard, throbbing shaft was spared; even his balls were soaked. They felt even heavier slapping your ass with each thrust.
“You remember?” you asked, hating how small you sounded.
The man’s nostrils flared, but he gave a curt nod. Expression taut and vigilant, as though anticipating something going wrong at any second. Still, he nodded.
“Years,” he answered.
“Years?”
Since he’d done this? Felt good? Become this way?
No, Bucky was activated in Madripoor just weeks ago. He didn’t look like he was ready to indulge in any ‘feel-good’ pleasure, and you weren’t sure when he’d last been with anyone else before you. Years could mean anything.
You chanced a few soft fingertips up to his cheeks, cupping either side of his clean-shaven face in an effort to anchor you both to one place. The pit of your stomach was reeling with warmth, and friction, and fullness. It took everything in you just to pull him in for a quick, grounding kiss before the feeling gave way to even more.
Bucky’s teeth nicked your bottom lip. He flinched back.
You ignored the sting and repeated his name, murmuring it carefully up to the seal of his mouth as if requesting entry with that word alone.
It seemed to work. Bucky kissed you back with a gentle, albeit guarded, sort of tenderness that made him soften. His thrusts weren’t as rough and punishing as they were before. The dull, throbbing ache between your legs transformed into something sweeter, and your body no longer had to brace itself against strokes that, to you, were nearly bruising and, to Bucky, were just necessary.
For once, your husband let out a soft grunt of pleasure.
“They never let us,” Bucky said as his teeth grit together, “It’s been years.”
“Since what?”
The face above you tempered more—this time with a trace of sadness behind it. He continued to rut into you, but now his thrusts were sloppy, and it seemed as though he were battling against his own pleasure with every motion. He lowered one hand between your legs and began to thumb at your clit, gaze torn from yours.
“Close now?” he muttered.
Ignoring the question you’d asked.
“Years since what?” you pressed anyway. The tiny ripples preceding bliss had already begun to stir inside you, maddeningly, with every flick of his thumb, but your curiosity to know the whole truth was stronger still.
Bucky’s hips were moving at a feverish pace now; his free hand made a fist in the sheets beside your head, and his chest heaved with a series of short, ragged breaths that were no doubt meant to mask his moans as well. Notwithstanding the burn you felt between your legs—he really was much rougher and stronger now, you saw—you cupped his cheek again to tilt his face toward yours.
What you saw made your stomach drop.
Your heart clenched like a fist within the confines of your ribcage, and there it was—that terrible ache you felt each time you saw something awful materialize before you.
Bucky’s eyes were wet with tears. He wouldn’t blink.
He tilted his head into your touch, as if for support, but really, the weight of it signaled to you that he just wanted to feel you. Be assured that you were there. His big, broad arms seemed suddenly unable to hold his weight, and then he sank into your frame with a grunt and another stuttered breath. Like he was ready to collapse.
“Don’t leave again,” he said quietly.
The pain in your chest elevated, in bloom.
“Bucky I didn’t— wasn’t—” you started to say.
The friction between your bodies was almost too much to bear. You couldn’t be sure if you were talking to your husband, soldat, or some strange, inconceivable mixture of the two, but you could tell that this one was desperate.
Pleading.
“I can’t lose you again.”
The head of his cock grazed your most sensitive spot inside, and a whine seeped out through your teeth. Bucky’s whole body was blanketing yours, torso flush with your front and hips working an erratic cadence as he got a glimpse of release himself. He groaned out in pleasure and begged you to stay. You promised that you would. Your legs were still wound around his sides, but both of your bodies were slick with a sheen of sweat; it was hard to hang on. Bucky’s hair was wild and pushed back from his face, but his eyes were clear when they finally met yours, and you heard him mumble again, ‘Please stay.’
You didn’t know what else to say but okay, baby, I will.
You swore you would stay, and in between oaths, your mouth was consumed by a barrage of kisses—Bucky got to feast with a full set of teeth again, primal as ever—and then your climax hit. Euphoria washed over you whole with a force you weren’t expecting to feel, and you couldn’t help but cry out and whine as waves of pleasure coursed straight from the innermost depths of your core.
Bucky’s hips collided with yours in two more stuttered thrusts, and when he bottomed out at the last, you felt a heavy spurt of warmth. A groan coiling out of his chest. Muscles growing lax and two sturdy arms coming to bracket your head as your husband’s whole body weight went folding into yours. You kissed some more, in between frenzied intakes of breaths and steadying moments where you were simply trying to ground your body and get your heart to slow down to a normal rate.
You held each other in silence for a while. Bucky’s head fell next to yours on the pillow when the last of his spend had been emptied, but otherwise, he didn’t stir. At some point, his hands slid behind your back, and the second he hugged you to him, you felt secure in that embrace.
You were probably as far as you’d ever been from understanding who the fuck your husband was, but all it seemed you were capable of feeling for now was pity.
Pity for the years he’d lost to captivity; pity for what was little more than mere existence under HYDRA’s thumb; pity for all the things you still didn’t know about his past.
You held Bucky tighter, and, flooded with this strange, grating emotion and an overwhelming sense of powerlessness, you wished you could protect him, too.
“James?” you mumbled into his hair.
Bucky didn’t respond.
You squeezed his shoulder. Still nothing.
Against your better judgment, you tried to shift yourself underneath his body. You figured you wouldn’t make it far at all, but at least he would be aware that you were trying to get up. Maybe even start to move with you.
He didn’t.
It took everything in you just to wedge an elbow back, struggle to prop yourself up against his weight, and when you were about to let out a huff of an exasperated laugh and tell him, Bucky, you’re crushing me, honey, could you please ease up a little, your request was answered before the words could even leave your mouth.
At the sound of two new muffled voices carrying up from the living room and what appeared to be noises from shuffling feet, Bucky rose straight from the bed, off you.
Your gaze trailed his to the door, and you reached for him.
“Baby, it’s just—”
Bucky was back on his feet. Yanking his boxers and pants up his legs and buckling his belt in no time at all.
The movers. It’s just the movers bringing in furniture—
You moved your hand closer to your husband in the hopes of stalling his movements for half a second, but then a set of ruthless blue eyes had you pinned, quick:
“Stay.”
Your outstretched arm was taken up in a much stronger, stiffer one, and you were suddenly pulled over to Bucky.
But you knew from the eyes it wasn’t him at all.
And you weren’t so much being tugged toward him as you were being hauled to the floor. Thrown on your knees beside the bed, next to Bucky. He was about to leave.
Without thinking, you reached for one of the legs of his trousers and sank your nails into the fabric to hold him in place, to tell him again that there was nothing to see out there but the people you knew, no threat outside at all. But Bucky was deaf to your pleas, it seemed. He shrugged you off easily and made a move for his gun, expression blank, stolid, calm, hardened. Decided.
You tried to rise to your feet but were stopped.
“STAY,” Bucky boomed again, this time an order that he didn’t even deign to complete with a look your way.
If he had—if he even possessed the ability to consider anything but the immediate task at hand—he would’ve seen his own hand knock you to the floor to keep you from standing. Might’ve caught a glimpse of the instant your head struck the edge of the nightstand before you hit the ground. Could’ve even made out the first traces of blood that came trickling out from above your temple. Would’ve seen you cower back, viscerally, out of fear.
But holding the side of your head and watching him leave, grim realization twisted at the pit of your stomach, and you knew the man wouldn’t have stopped if he had.
If your soldat’s objective was to protect you from any harm lurking outside that door, real or illusory, nothing you were capable of doing now could stop that. At expense to yourself, at expense to him, at expense to whatever lives stood between the Winter Soldier and that unwavering, hardwired goal, he still would not ever stop.
Thinking of new, innocent lives in the balance, now, you scrambled for your phone the next second to call Steve.
You tried him once. Twice. A third time crawling on your knees, then standing, then staggering over to the door and pulling the phone from your ear just to send a string of texts to your friend while the thing continued to ring.
SOS
Need help
Pick up please
Bucky’s stuck and he’s
About to hurt people here
A crash sounded outside. You hurried to the door. Your hand closed around the knob and tried to turn it. The handle turned freely, but something behind it was refusing to let you leave the room. You pressed again.
“Bucky!”
Your cry was useless in the face of the barricade outside.
You pushed your shoulder and, behind it, the whole force of your weight against it anyway, trying to get out.
The line went dead. You tried again.
Now with your phone to one ear and the bedroom door taking the brunt of your hits from the other, bleeding side of your body, you scarcely heard much of anything else. The ring started. Stopped. Began again when you pressed a shaky finger to Steve’s contact name, and continued in a cycle for some time while you tried to force whatever was on the other side of the door away.
The second a voice broke through the haze of your frantic, half-crazed state of consciousness, you cried:
“STEVE!”
“Mrs. Barnes?”
You were shocked to hear a woman on the other end. Your pulse was still racing, shoulder aching from the impact of each desperate push you’d been forcing against the door, and then you stopped. Another loud something sounded down the hallway, further away, but you were too startled and unnerved to take any note of it.
You started to ask, ‘Where’s Steve?’ when the voice continued:
“This is Mrs. Barnes?”
“Yes,” you answered woodenly.
You held the phone as close to your ear as you could, but still, the woman’s words were coming in and out in bursts. You must’ve mistakenly accepted the call when trying to reach Steve—you couldn’t think right now; could barely retract the phone far enough to see a strange number displayed on the screen. You swallowed.
“—from Lenox Hill Hospital at Northwell Health—”
The high-rise medical center on the Upper East Side you’d visited that week. Bucky had wanted you tested for nutritional deficiencies and anemia, of all fucking things.
“—if you had a moment or two to chat and maybe—”
No, you needed Steve, not this outpatient courtesy call.
You would’ve liked to hang up. Should’ve hung up. In fact, your fingers were practically itching to hit the button the whole time the nurse was speaking to you, but something in you just couldn’t be persuaded to do it. It took several more seconds before your senses began to creep back, and by then, when you were about to drop the call, you heard a phrase that stopped you on a dime.
“—but the doctor advises prenatal vitamins—”
“What?” you snapped, far more harshly than you meant.
The nurse paused a beat, whether from incredulity at how rude you’d just sounded or to consider something. When she resumed, she sounded a little more guarded.
“Yes…Dr. Watkins did reach out to you about your bloodwork from your last visit, didn’t she? I thought—”
“No,” you said, rushed and painfully brusque, again. You tried to rein in your tone some before continuing, “She didn’t—didn’t reach out about anything. What vitamins?”
Another pause.
“Prenatals.”
You hated that she gave you another second to chew on that word before taking a breath and pressing on.
“I’m terribly, terribly sorry to be the one to spring that on you, Mrs. Barnes—I thought you knew…um—” The nurse was sheepish now, almost embarrassed to be speaking, “—you’re about…three weeks along in your pregnancy.”
Three weeks along.
Advised prenatal vitamins.
For the child growing inside of you.
A rivulet of blood trickled into your left eye.
Your whole body was apt to convulse, but it didn’t.
You hung up.
Taglist: (please lmk if I missed anyone! I can only tag 50 at a time so will continue in a separate post) @vicmc624 @she-could-never @mcira @kentokaze @identity2212 @unaxv, @buchi91, @ordelixx @stinkerbelle007 @opibarnes @wilsons-striped-ties @desigirlxx @pono-pura-vida @geminiflanagansblog @buggy14 @sky-full-0f-fl0wers @buckysdoll1520 @armystay89 @minimarvelingmarvel @kunakizen @ghostiebby06 @blackhawkfanatic @dameron-grantspector @sushiseoks @deansapplepie @mrsjoequinn @gyokujyn @lunaroserites @first-edition @kaybaby2494, @jaggedsi @excusememrbarnes @daisychainsoflove @mostlymarvelgirl @diannana @shawnberry @yujyujj @urmomsalex @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @athenabarnes @christinabae @sluttylittlewaistenthusiast @wintrsoldrluvr @bethbunnyy @i-heart-smut @aagn360 @dahliawolfe @fantasyfootballchampion @lilyevanstan1325 @kandis-mom @thealyrs
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Note
Can u please write Luke Hughes car sex after taking a ride at night
riding | luke hughes
warnings: p in v (unprotected | be safe and responsible!), breeding kink, a pinch of spit kink, slight choking, slight subby Luke
a/n: of course I can 🤍 thanks for the request! love you ♡
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Music blares from the speakers of Luke’s car. His hand is on my thigh as he aimlessly drives us around New Jersey.
I was peacefully reading a book in bed when Luke came in the room insisting we go on a drive. I agreed and here we are, driving around Jersey for the last hour and a half.
“Wanna park up here for a bit?” Luke takes his hand off my thigh and begins to put the car in park before I can even respond.
I look out the window at the secluded area. The only lights are coming from the car and the city further ahead, as well at the moon and it’s accompanying stars.
“Come here, wanna hold you.” Luke pats his lap before unbuckling my seat belt. I crawl over to his seat with Luke’s help and he pulls me into his body. I wrap my arms around his neck and place my head on his shoulder. I don’t care if we’re at home, in the car, or on a plane. A long as I’m in Luke’s arms I’m a happy girl.
"Why'd you wanna come for a drive?" I ask, twirling one of his curls in between my fingers. "Wanted a change of scenery." He shrugs. I hum in response and press a kiss to the beauty spot beside his nose.
"I like this hoodie you're wearing. I wonder whose it is." Luke points to the Nike logo on the top left corner. "It’s mine?" He sighs and playfully rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah whatever. It looks better on you anyways." He presses his forehead against my chest and places a kiss to my clothed body. "Yeah. You look better without anything covering your abs." I slide my hand up his hoodie and poke him in the stomach. "Oh yeah? Do I?" I nod and give him an mhm in response. I decide to get bold and I begin to grind myself into his lap but he stops me before I can even fully rub against him.
"Babe.. I would love to but I don't have a condom. I didn't think we were gonna have sex but I should've known you'd find a way to get flirty." He fidgets with my gold 43 necklace that he gave me “just because”. I think about what I’m gonna say before nervously suggesting something to Luke that I’ve wanted to do for a while.
"Well.. we've been together for a year and I'm clean and I have an IUD but I understand if you don't wan-" Luke cuts me off. "I want to. I'm clean. You're the only woman I've had sex since we started dating." I laugh. "I would hope so." I press a kiss to his lips. "You have nothing to worry about." He whispers against my mouth before pressing our lips back together.
He slides his hands under my hoodie and gropes my breasts as our tongues tangle. I palm him through his sweatpants, feeling him grow harder in my hand. “Can’t wait to fill you up with my cum.” He mumbles against my swollen lips. I squeeze his cock harder at his dirty words and he groans into my mouth. “Please just ride me already.” He pulls away, looking at me with wide, lust filled eyes. “Have some patience” I mumble before sucking on the sweet spot near his collarbone.
His hands find my ass, gently squeezing before slipping his them into my sweat pants. He squeezes my ass harder as I grind myself against his bulge.
Our lips find each others again as I tug at the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear. He lifts his ass off of the seat, allowing me to pull them down until they bunch around his ankles. I grab hold of his cock and run my fingertip along the sticky precum that drips from his pink tip. He sighs and then whimpers, grabbing my hand to stop. “Wanna cum inside of you, not all over your hand” He whines, looking at me with a desperate expression.
I sit up, beginning to pull my underwear and sweatpants down. I’m done with the games, I need him inside of me.
“You’d look so pretty with my baby inside of you.” Luke suddenly blurts out. I stop what I’m doing and look at him. His eyes are wide and his face is turning red. I don’t think he meant to say that.
“Luke… we’ve only been together for a year and we’re only 20” I laugh nervously. “No, I know. I just- I dunno. It’s just kinda hot to think about.” He slightly shrugs his shoulders, avoiding eye contact with me. “It is.” I whisper. “So hot. Please fill me up, Luke. Need it so bad.”
A big, toothy grin spreads across his face at my suddenly neediness. “I’ve been ready to fill you up, babe. You’re the one whose been teasing me.” His eyes trail down to his hard, exposed cock that he slowly strokes. I’m quick to push my bottoms down, exposing my soaked pussy. He reaches forward, running a finger through my folds before holding his cock for me to sink down on. I use the headrest of the seat for balance before pushing his dick into my aching heat. He lets out a loud whimper when he’s fully inside. It’s his first time fully feeling me.
I adjust to his size, grinding back and forth before I begin to steadily bounce up and down, using Luke’s shoulders for support. He tightly grips my hips, his head tipped back, eyes closed, and mouth slightly open.
I lean forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He brings his thumb down to my clit and starts rubbing steady circles along the begging bud. “Wanna cum inside of you so bad.” Luke mumbles, nuzzling his head into my breasts. “Can’t wait for you to fill me up, Lukey.” I moan, tilting my head back.
I feel Lukes hand gently wrap around my neck, lightly squeezing. "Look at me." He pulls my hips forward and I weakly tip my head forward to look at him. "Hey pretty girl." He smirks as I stop bouncing, now just gently grinding back and forth. "Open that mouth for me, babe." He runs his thumb along my puffy lips, pulling the bottom one down. I open my mouth, slightly sticking my tongue out. I know what he wants.
Luke leans forward, hand still wrapped around my neck. He lets spit fall from in between in his plump lips and onto my tongue. I smile at him before swallowing his it. "So good for me." He mumbles.
I bounce up and down a few more times before Luke helps me grind back and forth, seeing how I've gotten tired and worked up. My chest is heaving as his tip consistently hits my sweet spot. "Babe, hold onto the headrest." Luke grabs my wrists, bringing them above his head. I grip the headrest and Luke lifts my hips up. He holds me there as he begins to use his strength and stamina to fuck up into me.
He rapidly bucks his hips up, slapping his balls off of my ass and the backs of my thighs. I scream into his neck, digging my fingers into the leather of the headrest. My orgasm is quickly approaching.
With a few more bucks up into my pussy, Luke’s hips begin to stutter and slow down. I push his hands away, taking control again to bring us to our highs. I grip his biceps, bouncing up and down. I clench around him, ready for him to fill me up with his salty, warm cum.
“Cum inside of me Luke. I need it.” I whimper into his neck as my pussy tightens around his shaft. My legs gently shake as I let myself go. “Cumming baby, I’m cumming.” Luke whines, digging his fingers into my hips.
I feel his cock twitch inside of me, releasing his warm, white substance into my tight hole. He paints my walls as needy, sexy moans spill from his lips.
I look at him, taking in his used, worn out form. His cheeks are red, sweat shining around his hairline. His curls are a mess and his eyes are tightly squeezed shut. He holds onto my hips like he never wants me to get away.
I run my fingertips along his warm cheeks before pressing a soft kiss to his nose. I hold his beautiful face in my hands until he slowly opens his eyes a few moments later. He blinks a few times, bringing himself back to the present. A smile spreads across his face before he pulls me in to kiss him. He softly peppers kisses along my jaw as I twirl his curls in my fingers. “Let’s get home, love.” I whisper against his skin. He nods.
I carefully pull him out of me, and reach to grab a tissue from the glove box. “No.” Luke grabs my wrists. “Want you to be filled with me till we get home.” He throws the tissues into the back seat before pulling his bottoms up. I do the same, his cum immediately pooling in my already wet panties.
He helps me get into the passenger seat, doing my seatbelt for me. He presses a kiss to my hand, squeezing it before buckling his own seat belt.
I rest my head against the window as Luke’s hand finds a place on my thigh. He pulls out of the secluded area, driving us back home as I drift in and out of sleep to the sound of Luke quietly singing along to his favourite country songs.
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"Midnight troubles"
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Pairing: Show!Luke Castellan x apollo!fem!reader!
Summary: an awkward moment, night patrol and a shitty girl later....
Contains: swearing, fluff (i guess?) angst, mentions to the giggidy (nothing actually happens), derogatory terms/names used
Word Count: 2108
A/N: i was sleep deprived and cluelesss when writing this so enjoy :)
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You've been friends with Luke Castellan since the day you showed up at camp drenched in water and he showed you around. You've been inseparable since then - y/n and Luke. Luke and y/n, you were a package deal, wherever one went the other followed.
On this particular day you had seated yourself down on a sunny patch of grass to sing. Luke had settled himself a few feet away from you pretending not to listen as your lips parted and sound sweeter than any strawberry escaped your mouth.
His eyes shut peacefully as your song washes over him. He's always loved your singing, everyone does, your song can seem to stop time for a few moments. But Luke likes to think he loves it the most - he's your best friend, of course he gets that right.
Once you finish singing you open your eyes and Luke is staring at you with pure amazement and... something else you can't quite place. Whatever it is, it's gone in a blink. "That was beautiful, y/n," he smiles.
"Like you," you tease standing up and reaching up to ruffle his hair. "You do know you don't have to sit with me and listen every time I sing don't you?"
"Yeah, I know. But I want to," Luke says, standing up with you and pulling you into a side hug. "You've got a really beautiful voice y/n."
You brush it off and wrap your arm around his waist walking along with him. "Oh but its not as beautiful as yours," you joke and Luke's laugh vibrates through you sending a jolt of tingles and a wave of repressed feelings.
You watch as Luke laughs and can't help but smile yourself. You and Luke have been deemed the camp's Mom and Dad. If anything was wrong and you didn't want to take it to Mr D or Chiron the campers would go to you two, Apollo and Hermes cabin counsellors. That's when the rumours started. Luke and y/n are dating. Although you've both denied it several times the campers never listened and you were dubbed Mom and Dad.
Even though you denied it, a small- a medium- okay a pretty huge part of you wants it to be true. I mean who wouldn't want Luke Castellan to be their boyfriend? He has offers piling up every day from girls. You're pretty sure you've even seen someone offer him a fucking apple with the words 'will you go out with me' carved into it. Luke said no of course - she was a frigging psycho - but even then he never said yes to any of the offers, the ones that you knew about anyway.
"I got patrol tonight after the campfire," you sigh and break away from Luke to give a younger boy from Aphrodite a hug when he showed you his result from arts and crafts. Not noticing how Luke tenses beside you until the boy runs off to tell his friends you hugged him.
"I'll come with you, there's bound to be some shit heads sneaking off to go hook up," he rolls his eyes looking directly at some Ares camper who you've both caught several times. "And besides, gods know you couldn't handle the dark without me."
You scowl at Luke smacking him. "Haha very funny, a daughter of the sun god is afraid of the dark, it's hilarious." Luke just grins and catches your hand against his chest, holding it there, when you go to hit him again. Your laughter fades and you both just stare at each other for a moment neither of you wanting to break it but also wanting to admit to the other that there was something happening.
Luke clears his throat and drops your hand gently. "Whatever loser, you're the one stuck with me," you tease and kiss his cheek. Walking away before you lose your nerve. Holy shit why'd you do that? you scream inside your head. What the fuck? Why? Why? You couldn't have walked away normally, but noooo you had to kiss his fucking cheek.
You press the palm of your hands into your eyes and accidentally slam into someone. "Shit sorry!" you cry out looking down to see the poor camper you practically ran over.
"It's okay! It's okay!" Percy says looking up at you and then over at Luke who hasn't moved since you walked away. "Did you break him or something?"
"Or something," you mutter, helping Percy up. "Sorry again, Percy." You force a smile onto your face and sigh as you look at Luke.
"Yeaaah, you messed him up damn." Percy drawls. "Like really messed him up. Damn what did you do? Did you like, kick him in the balls or something?"
"Percy!" you shout shutting him up. He doesn't even have the decency to look apologetic when he says sorry and then scurries off when Grover calls out to him.
Sighing, you shake your head and grumble to yourself about its going to be hella awkward tonight.
~~~
Something was wrong with Luke's heart. It hadn't stopped beating wildly since y/n had kissed him on the cheek and he was trying to control his erratic pulse when he rises up the steps to your cabin.
He knocks twice on the door and takes a deep breath when you open the door and look up at him. The deep breath is cut short when he notices you're wearing his hoodie. You smile up at him and ask, "you ready to go catch some horny teens?"
He nods and lets you lead the way. "Sure, yep, let's go Sunflower." You both walk in silence for the first two minutes before Luke works up the courage to say, "nice hoodie, there by the way, it matches your flashlight."
You twist around and grin ignoring his dig at your flashlight - it's white with a bunch of sunflowers hand painted on. "Yeah, some super, cool, really annoying guy gave it to me." Luke's eyebrow arches and you roll your eyes. "Fine, I stole it from the guy, cause it's soft and smells nice," you mumble that last part and Luke tilts his head at you in question.
"What was that last part?"
"It's soft?"
"No, the other part?"
You're quiet for a moment before mumbling, "it smells..... nice."
Luke practically stops breathing, but covers it up with a smirk. "You think I smell nice?"
You internally slap yourself. "Yes," you quietly answer. Well you know what? When you thought it was going to be awkward earlier? That's nothing compared to the tension right now.
A loud moan comes from up ahead behind the trees and you sigh tugging the hoodie closer before running up ahead to break up whatever situation is happening.
"Hey!" you yell out to the two campers whose clothes are dishevelled and hair all mussed up. "Get back to your cabins! And when I say cabins I mean your own cabin." The two kids scramble away back to their cabins swearing.
"Fuckers," Luke mutters from behind you. "I swear they always choose the same spot."
You spin around and smile, "they'll be back don't worry, you can bust them next time."
After you both make your rounds, catching three other couples, you end up in a secluded spot near the lake.
"So," you start looking out to the water, smiling softly. "What do you wanna talk about?" You shove the flashlight in the front pocket just soaking in the moonlight - and besides Luke's here, he protects you from the dark.
Luke looks over at you and steps closer wrapping a hand around each of your - well technically his - hoodie's drawstrings. "I don't really know..." he trails off and then looks down at you, your eyes shining in the moonlight. And then something must've possessed him because he leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on your forehead.
You look up at him in surprise. "What was that for?" You ask, noticing how Luke's eyes shine with affection.
"Just paying you back for earlier."
You both freeze then - not tensing up but just not moving. Staying in the small bubble that you two have created for yourselves. The comfort of the silence that surrounds you both covers you like a blanket.
Your faces inch closer, your breaths mingling as your eyes meet and you swear you can hear your heartbeat. Can Luke hear how loud your heart is beating? Like seriously? It's so loud.
Everything seems perfect before a loud laugh erupts in the distance. You sigh and pull away from him and start walking over to where the noise came from. Were you going to kiss just then? Holy shit. Was that actually happening?
Luke's presence at your side sends you into a tailspin. Does he like you? Or was he only doing that out of pity. You reach into the hoodie to pull out your flashlight but a hand wraps around your own and you skid to a stop, looking down at Luke's hand intertwined with yours.
Luke doesn't stop though, he just keeps walking, hopefully not noticing how red your cheeks are right now.
You both round the path and find a girl sitting on a fallen log hidden in the trees, she's wrapped in nothing but a blanket she must've brought from her cabin. When the girl sees you - well more like see's Luke - her eyes brighten up.
"Oh Luke! You're finally here! I was waiting for you." A frown instantly replaces the soft smile you have on your face.
"What?" Your voice is quiet and confused.
The girl shoots you a smug look. "What? Did you actually think Luke wanted to spend time with you tonight?" She smirks. "He was only killing time to spend it with me."
What?
You know what the girl is saying is wrong but when you look at Luke you almost start crying. He's quiet at your side staring harshly at the girl. He's not denying it. He's not denying it!
"Lukey and I have plans now bitch-girl, leave." Your teeth clench so tightly you're afraid you're gonna break your jaw. Why isn't Luke SAYING ANYTHING??
You stare frigidly at the girl. "Look, I wanna say Gina..?" she asks purposely misnaming you.
"It's y/n."
"Right that's what I said," she smirks. "Now unless you want to watch me and Luke roll around on the ground here I suggest you leave."
You stay put fighting your ground. Why is Luke not saying anything??
"Ooh we've got a bit of a slut on our hands do we? Damn Gina, I didn't know you were into kinky shit."
"I don't-"
She cuts you off. "It's fine I don't mind you watching like the whore you are."
WHY ISN'T LUKE SAYING ANYTHING?
The girl turns her eyes on Luke again. "I'm waiting for you Luke. Tell her to piss off. Or better yet, tell her that we've been sleeping together."
Luke stays quiet, his eyes locked on the girl.
What. The. Fuck?
The girl opens her mouth to start again but you turn around before she can say anything else.
"Y'know what? I'll leave you two to it," you spit, forcing the tears that spring to your eyes to stop.
"Wait y/n!" Luke calls out suddenly, but you've already launched into a sprint not caring what he has to say now. He didn't deny it. He didn't deny it. He didn't deny it.
Tears blur your eyes and you struggle to pull out your flashlight, tripping over a tree root and stumbling to the ground. You face plant onto the ground and even though you're wearing long pants you can feel your skin being torn.
It's dark and cold
You have scratches along your face and arms - where the hoodie pushed up - everything burns your skin, your face, your eyes, your heart.
He didn't deny it.
You pat around looking for your flashlight. No, no, no, no, no. It can't be lost, no! Luke painted it for you, when you first came to camp and when he found out you were afraid of the dark.
Luke made that. Your Luke made tha-
Your face crumples.
Luke.
He didn't deny it. He didn't say anything. He didn't stop her.
Your heart heavy as you do so, you stand up, fighting the new wave of tears that threaten to overcome you.
A chill hits you and you pull the dirty hoodie closer. It still smells like Luke.
And...
And its dark...
Shit.
Anger pools deep in your gut. She called you a slut and a whore.
That bitch better watch it.....
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©strawberries-and-summer-days
a/n: lemme know if you want a part two!!
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ment-llyunstable · 2 days
Text
Sugar on the Cream!
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Alastor x Reader Synopsis: Alastor found out about your powers and decided to take matters into his own hands to reestablish who's in charge at this hotel and that he was perfectly capable of destroying you. A warning to not try any funny business, though who's to say he didn't find the threat of you being more powerful absolutely enticing. Themes: +18, Slight Dubious Consent, Bondage, Breeding Kink, A/B/O Dynamics, Dominant Alpha Alastor, Alastor feeling threatened, Reader with Deal Breaking ability, AFAB Chubby Reader, G/N Omega Reader, Black Bear Reader, Cervix Penetration, Stomach Bulge, Knotting Word Count: 4,195
A/N: Not beta read!! Also, I know Alastor is canonically aro/ace. As someone who is aro/ace, I enjoy the representation. This is fiction for funsies. Being aro/ace doesn't mean you can't have sexual relations or romantic ones. Respectfully, we should recognize we all ship characters with whatever sexuality is canon, with the opposite of that canon. Like Hob Gadling x Dream of the Endless. Canonically, Dream has only ever been with women, he had a wife, etc. Like, let's not try and pretend we don't disrespect canons all the time and stop trying to be 'allies' or 'heroes'. It's fiction. It's not the Hat fic and writing like this isn't invalidating aro/ace ppl in any way imo. If it was, we could say all the Bakugou x Deku shit is invalidating the obvious crush Deku has on Ochako so we should all stop then, huh? Naw. My opinion so whatever. Anyway, hope you enjoy! Let me know if I should continue. Got a few ideas for this. but nothing concrete.
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"𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙄'𝙢 𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙚, 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙨 𝙦𝙪𝙤 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙧𝙪𝙣. 𝙊𝙝, 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙛𝙪𝙣!"
You weren’t sure how you got yourself into this situation. Well, you knew how, but to have the Radio Demon with his full attention on you, hand down your pants with fingers teasing and coaxing blood to the tiny nub of pleasure to life, was something you’d never thought would or could happen. You’d even witness him actively avoiding all physical contact around the others and keeping a distance between them at all times. You’d only ever seen Nifty be the only one who could lay a hand on him without him looking like he was repulsed behind gritted teeth.
You thought he was just annoyed by you as a person, but the dots slowly clicked as your mind raced to think of what could have possibly required him to want to entertain you in this way. The only thing you could think of was the Radio demon had heard you expressing your powers, in private, to Charlie. You knew it had been best to do so alone, not wanting to become a pawn to any prying ears, especially as an unclaimed omega. You didn’t think your powers would’ve been one to issue such a strong, sexual response from the demon whom you’d heard wasn’t interested in such flights of fancy. Plus, it wasn’t like you knew really how to use it as well and it wasn’t like you had been the nicest smelling omega around. You had only been staying at the hotel at most about four months, only discovering it after the whole fight the hotel had against Heaven.
Alastor’s claws must’ve been retractable, the digits were meticulously placed with firm pressure, switching between circling and up-and-down motion on your throbbing button. He leniently alternated to stroking around the bud and a bit down, not quite to your entrance, but in an attentive manner to figure out what you fancied. You could hear soft jazz in the background. You’d been placed upon his lap, facing away from him with both of your thighs on each side of his, those long legs of his making it difficult to try and close yours. You were trapped in the spot by onyx tentacles; one wrapped around each calf and a thicker one that squished into your plush stomach. Alastor’s free arm was wrapped-up around your upper torso, his large hand grasping your neck as if to dare you to try and escape. Your scent was rising in the air, the smell of chamomile, frankincense and sandalwood clouded the room. It was tainted with the sweetness of arousal, usually a more subtle scent combination for an omega but you’d never heard any complaints. For Alastor though, it was overbearing on his senses - it had reminded him too much of his human life and now to have it unfiltered between you was near deadly. Oh, how it fueled a fire you didn’t even know was there. Sure, you could appreciate the handsome, charming demeanor that was inherently Alastor, though his off-putting behavior and remarks had been enough to warrant a bit of distance. You were just at the hotel to help sinners and by the sounds of Alastor’s cackling of others pain, you could grasp easily you were not on the same page. There had been no need to engage besides pleasantries and his passive, condescending mannerisms was a deterrent. 
But, here you were with your pussy being flirted with by someone who you should be absolutely terrified of. However, you weren’t though, you weren’t dumb enough to not be cautious. If you were correct on your assumption, you knew you held a sort of bargaining chip he wanted, which had been the initial interest in you. You had been unsure if his intentions had been only business, nevertheless this event was telling more had been involved and brewing in Alastor’s head. This situation wasn’t supposed to be happening to begin with. He’d tempted you into a simple chat in his radio tower, only to corner you like this. If anything, you’d hoped he would have fessed up and tried to make amendments for his strange and creepy stalking behaviors. You knew he wouldn’t apologize for the added passive aggressiveness he displayed when having to interact with you so that was out of the question. 
“Do you think you can get in the way of my charity project here? Do you think you have the right to threaten me?”
Alastor asked this, his radio filtered voice animated and joyful though it covered obvious annoyance. 
The pressure of two of his fingers were becoming more intense as he sped up. A warm tingle spread like wildfire from your fingertips to your toes, igniting every nerve ending in a fiery blaze. Your heart raced in your chest, a primal drumbeat of desire that pulsed through your veins with a delicious urgency. You couldn’t stop the gentle, breathy pants that escaped your parted lips, hips twitching.  You could feel the gentle caressing of his breath on top of your head and forehead, his lithe body being much taller and bigger than your plump, small one, so he had to crouch over your form. He was watching you with zealous eyes and a fervid smile. 
“N-No, of course not. That’s not why I came to the hotel, Alastor. I wa… I wanted to help Charlie.” 
You weren’t lying. Your ability came with smaller powers that were much more laidback than breaking soul deals.  Sure, you had a few souls under your belt from when you’d first arrived in hell and unleashed your Justice upon one unlucky demon who you saw treat those who he owned unfairly and abusively. It had been the leader of a small gang that had been trying to establish a selling ground and you'd walked by to see the leader beating on a smaller demon who was desperately trying to explain that they'd gotten robbed. The anger you’d felt came out and it unleashed your wrath, a manifestation of a sword that cut through the chains. Those poor souls you set free gave you theirs as payment, seeing you’d never do such harm to them like that, that they could be free and never scared into having to sell their soul again to some awful sinner. You made sure they never told anyone of your powers and that they could have their freedom without you dictating or needing them. Your secret was safe. You had learned enough in your time in Hell to know how a sinner became an Overlord and the politics around it. That just wasn't your cup of tea. Nonetheless, you had the additional ability to manipulate auras though you’d only ever used it to calm potential attackers or anyone around you upset. It wasn’t anything too fancy or showy, but it had helped you more times than you could count. Considering yourself and other sinners, a calming energy would be helpful amongst the traumatized. You’d hoped Charlie would be able to use it when it came to her vision of redemption. To establish a safe place to heal, whether it turned to being able to redeem oneself or for just a healing journey. Dying and arriving in Hell was another round of trauma, it didn't hurt to try and work on healing.
Your gaze was all over the place despite wanting to look down to watch his hand in your pants but his grasp upon your neck prohibited in viewing such activities. You didn’t have enough focus to try and calm the radio demon but at this point, you didn’t think your manipulation to his aura would do anything. You hadn’t dared tried it since arriving and since he was already so worked up, it probably wouldn’t do much to deter him from his mission. The static radiating from his body penetrated yours, dancing amongst your skin in light prickles that had your little fuzzy ears cocked forward to listen.
“Oh, dearest. This is my entertainment. Not yours. I don’t enjoy thinking you may try to interfere or overthrow me — I advise you to not attempt your silly little powers on me.”
The grip on your neck tightened, his fingers picking up pace having already started feeling the wetness seep from you. Your arousal and exquisite pheromones were greedily inhaled by the cannibal, to savor the suggestion of a body ready for seed taking. It was a new urge for the radio demon to mark you with his seed, his scent and to taint you in such a ferocious manner. 
“My, my. How darling of you to be so quiet and submissive now. Are you frightened?” 
Alastor chuckled cheekily, the rumbling in his chest vibrated against your back. You honestly couldn’t care less about what he said, too focused on the quickening ministrations forced upon your now swollen clit. His own scent was filling the air, hitting your nostrils in gentle waves. He smelled of petrichor, the soothing scent before the rain hit the Earth. It was almost ironic.
Your breathing was shortening, the pleasure building with your lower muscles tightening. You weren’t scared at this point, especially feeling his hard dick pressed to your backside and his own arousal contaminating his natural scent. 
“Alastor— W-Wait, wait wait-…” Your face flushed with color, you closed your eyes trying to hold back your impending orgasm.
The male hummed, though didn’t stop his fingers as a black tendril slid its way from his side and down your trousers. The pointed appendage slid between your folds, teasing at your entrance. 
“I’m afraid there’s no waiting for you, my sweet. Now… cum for me.” 
He sounded humored at first, voice dropping an octave as he demanded you to reach your peak. As he said it, his tentacle shoved its way into your cunt, stretching and burying itself deep inside. That pushed you over the edge, the way the tentacle had pushed up against your cervix and caused you to come immediately. Your back arched, pressing back into him with eyes closed tightly and moan muffled by your own stubbornness with a bitten lip and flattened ears. Your cunt squeezed at the tentacle, earning attention from it by starting to move in and out of you with determination. The appendage fucked you through it, the high of your release trying to pass but instead once your cunt was fucked through your first orgasm, there was no stopping the tentacle from sending you straight into another. The second ripped through your body fast and harsh, the wetness audible to both of your ears. Your voice cut through the static with a sudden high-pitched moan, your thigh muscles quaking as you pressed your hips down against his. Alastor paid no mind to your squirming body in his lap, only removing the inky, wet tendril from your hole after your petite form relaxed, twitching from overstimulation.  
You were a complete mess at this point; face heated crimson with a light shine of sweat, bottom lip swollen from where you’d fought to keep yourself quiet, eyes half open and dazed. Alastor felt absolutely, utterly depraved seeing you like this. He could see you as equal to or more powerful than him - a righteous and conscientious mess. Never would he think someone so obviously pathetic would have such a power thus a power over him. He wanted you in more ways than one; to own you, to control you, and maybe to let you do the same with him. You’d be the only one who he could judge as worthy of such a thing, outright knowing you’d never give your soul to him. 
His hand on your throat released, clawed fingers slid down to the pants you wore and ripped through them easily. Underwear was shredded too, your wet and puffy cunt exposed to the cool air. You glanced down through blurry eyes, to the sight of Alastor using both hands now to grip onto your thighs. 
"What a performance! I'd say you deserve a reward for such a treat."
The deer demon used a shadowy tentacle to pull his cock out from between you both, the heavy shaft slapping up against your drenched slit. You jerked at the touch, still trying to catch your breath as you saw the tip of his cock leak, flushed with red and at the base was already the beginnings of a swollen knot. The shape was different than you’d thought it would be, the tip a notably large mushroom shape, the length connecting to it slender before flaring out larger in the middle before the rest of the length connected to the swollen knot. His scent was immensely clouding all your senses now, your omega body responding with profuse arousal. Oh, you wanted him now. It was undeniable of the chemistry of your two bodies, your inner omega preening at the idea of being so wanted and filled by such a strong Alpha. Your little black tail twitched eagerly, your small black ears pressing forward in alertness.
Alastor took your pause as the perfect opportunity to grind his hips up against you, his cock rubbing between your wetness, just slipping between the folds. You were trying to catch your breath still, eyes wide at the fact he must’ve been thinking his dick would fit. Your body was much smaller than his seven foot stature, surely he wouldn’t. 
But, he would try. This was power-play at its finest, Alastor wanted to assert his dominance and control over your body. He wasn’t keen on physical contact for sure, using rather violence to instill terror upon those who dare threaten his status. You, however, weren’t phased by his theatrics so now he had to take it into his own hands. You had the one ability that if you wanted to, you could either ruin or save Alastor and that pissed him the fuck off. 
"How cute. You're so wet for me."
The slick, lubricious sensation of his dick rubbing against you was utterly divine. You looked up at him, angling your head to the side with flickering eyes along his face. His scarlet eyes met yours, pupils dilated, his sinister grin stretched to its fullest to show his yellow-pointed teeth.
"P-Please-"
"Please, what? Hm? Speak up, you look stupid mumbling nothing."
Alastor opened his mouth, his long and pointed crimson tongue fell out to lick along your cheek. The muscle was smooth and only momentarily a distraction from him lifting your body up enough to start to bury the tapered head of his cock into your heat. Your body tensed at this regardless of the foreplay, your mushy and sopping cunt still resisting such an attempt of intrusion. 
“Mmf! Ha… Haa… Alastor it won't -”
“C’mon now, darling. I’m getting in one way or another~!”
He said this in a sing-song like voice, almost chastising you, static rising in sound near the end to emphasize his resolute and unwavering commitment to ensuring his dick would invade your tiny hole. Your head snapped forward, hands grasping on the armrests as some sort of stability. He used your body to bear down at the same time, your cunt forced to accommodate and stretch with a sweetened squeeze once the glans fit. The psychotic Overlord didn’t stop there, no. He knew you could take it, take pain and take what he could give you. 
Alastor didn’t give you a chance to soak in the way your pussy quivered in delight at being stretched so wide. He, instead, still holding at your plump waist and pulled you down no matter the resistance. His cock demanded your tight walls to envelope him, the swell of his appendage filling you quickly despite the inevitable ache. You were sure he wouldn’t get all the way down and he only paused once the tip of his dick hit your cervix. The absolute stretch and burn of the demons cock shoved you over the edge again in a premature yet strong climax of pleasure. 
“Oh, fuck!” 
You whined keenly, you nearly couldn’t stop cumming already, he was just so big that his length hit all the right bundles of nerves. Even now though, your pussy lips hadn’t swallowed him full nor reached the top of his knot. Your overly-sensitive and agitated clit thrummed between your legs, the frenzied spasms of your pussy’s muscles enticed a guttural snarl from him.
"Watch your language, omega. It's not very becoming of you."
Alastor’s sharp claws pricked at your clothing, digging more as he started moving your hips, to roll against his in a shallow motion. He didn’t lift you up too much, favoring to keep himself confined as deeply as he could. Your pussy walls made it incredibly hard for him, his focus on the way your pliable, tender cervix felt. Each hit of his tip was a kiss for your cervix to give in, to extend beyond normal measures and make your womb his. Your beseeching, eager moans and squeals left out of your lips, not bothering to saying anything. The sounds of your drenched pussy, strained sobs and skin meeting skin, were desirable compositions to the radio demon. 
“Sweetheart, your moans of ecstasy are like a melody to me. I must have you immerse me.”
Alastor dropped the radio filter just at the last word, voice lowered from he usual cheerful and velvety tone. You knew what he meant, your eyes widened with adrenaline and panic. You tried wiggling out of his grasp this time, the tentacles grip tightening and pulling taunt to stop you, the demon laughing in elation as he drove his cock deeper with an abrupt and harsh tug down. This time, the tender and swollen cushion of your cervix gave into his bullying cock, terribly uncomfortable yet endorphin releasing. 
You were fully seated on him basically limp, a passive and panting mess with dewy skin. Your raw pussy walls twitched and fluttered around his length, getting used to the strain. His large hands tenderly massaged your sides before merely resting on them. You could hear the static much louder now, his own breathing unbridled and heavy. You were sure if you looked down, no matter the soft meat on your tummy, it would be bulging from the sheer intrusion. You honestly couldn’t get your gaze to focus, overcome by the feeling of blissful fullness.
A drop of drool caught your attention, dripping onto your left shoulder and being absorbed by the dark sweater you wore. He was drooling over the tight, wet heat of your womb and overbeating want to mate you, nearly losing himself to his more demonic and feral form of himself with antlers elongating and scleras filling with black. 
“You don't realize what you've been doing to me. Angering me, not even confiding in me - a strong Alpha, of your powers. Always on my mind, always thinking of you. Seems like even now… You have me within your precious grasp, little bear.” 
Breathy, hungry  - the infernal Overlord shuddered underneath you. He started off easy, controlling your smaller, supple form with his grasp and demonic tentacles. He bounced you up and down his cock, only pulling you up enough to feel the crown of his glans hit the resistance of your cervix with a gratifying suck. It was like your pussy was trying to keep him inside, the walls felt like they were tightening every time he went to pull out whilst your juices leaked and slobbered over his stiff member. This drove the radio demon into an all-consuming, rageful want. 
The consuming urge to breed you heightened. He wanted you to smell of him, plump and well fed with a fawn inside your tummy. He already knew how fertile you were, mouth-watering pheromones lush with reminders. Alastor lifted you up, the shadowy tentacles holding on. His hips began thrusting up in a hurried pace. His cock pulled down on your cervix harshly, using your womb as his personal toy. His knot kept catching on your entrance, teasing your folds as a warning to what’s to come. 
Each gasp, each moan that escaped your lips was a symphony of ecstasy, a sweet melody of pleasure that echoed through the air like a siren's song. In that moment, you were lost in a whirlwind of sensation. Your every nerve ending alive with the intoxicating rush of pleasure. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss. You couldn't deny that there was something intoxicating about the whole situation; the way his body moved against yours, the way his tentacles wrapped around you, the way his breath felt against your skin and how he'd taken all of this pleasure unprovoked. It had been too long since your omegan needs had been drawn out, your heats spent alone and cold.
The radio demon was entranced, intoxicated with your sounds, scent and plushness against him. He couldn’t stop the rest of his obsidian tendrils from finding their way to various places on your body, whether it be wrapping around you or fondling and rubbing your chest, thighs and stomach. Alastor wanted you to know how powerful he was, how he could consume you in all his glorious ways, and be a considerable candidate for a mate. The deer was truly feeling some conflicted feelings. Despite his cruel and domineering actions, there was a part of him that seemed to crave your power, your ability to challenge him, maybe a harbinger for change. You wondered if this was what he truly needed, someone to stand up to him and show him that he wasn't invincible.
You could feel it building again, the all-consuming and concentrated passionate feeling of your sensitive cunt reaching its cumulation. 
"I'm going to e a t you."
It was too much, eyes tearful as you felt his cool, wet tongue swipe sloppily at your neck with a gnarling sound. He was lapping and putting pressure on your scent glands, gladly tasting at your sweetness. It was incredibly difficult to not seal this side of the deal, forcing you to have to consider being his mate and manipulated by your own body since the mating tie would have been halfway made if he bit you. His own Alpha chanted and growled 'My Omega. Mine!' internally. His jaw unhinged to latch fully onto the conjunction of your neck and shoulder just below your flavorful scent glands. Alastor’s fierce and sharp-edged teeth sunk in, blood oozing thickly from the puncture wounds. He sucked and kept hold of you like that, enamored with the erotic, ambrosial taste of your blood.  Your desperate mewling was nonstop.
"A-Alpha, am gonna cum!"
The pain threw you over the edge and you came hard on his thick cock, your gooey wetness squishing out of you with every snap of his hips. His rough and jarring thrusts increased to fuck you through it. Your pussy was milking him, tightening and releasing his swelling cock - for him was heavenly, pleasure building up as his final push over the peak. He yanked your body down on him to secure his already bloating knot in you earning a debauched, filthy wail from your throat. Your gummy cunt strained and enveloped around him entirely, widely, slipping over his knot as it popped achingly into you. Once inside, the knot expanded, getting larger and larger and forcing your body to accept the wide bulge as it plugged your cunt. Your body tensed with hands grasping at the poor cushion of the chairs arms, muscles shaking violently as you felt his awfully hot, viscous cum enter your womb, filling it full. As Alastor's thrusts slowed, his breathing becoming more even, you knew that this was just the beginning. The power struggle between you two was far from over, and you knew that you would have to be careful in how you handled it.
But for now, you allowed yourself to bask in the afterglow of the encounter, feeling the warmth of Alastor's body against yours, and the heat of his cum inside you. You were slack against him and he fully leaned over you, his cock still leaking in you and his tentacles all stroking and rubbing tenderly along your body. Alastor’s hands slid underneath your top and cupped your belly’s softness, feeling where his dick and cum rested inside you snuggly as he unlatched his mouth from you. Those lean hands massaged the supple, swollen flesh instigating little, satisfied whines from you as you reveled in the mixed scent of blood and sexual afterglow. You were so full of his cock and seed, you knew when his knot went down it would leak heavily out of you.
"Good omega. So good for me, little omega." Alastor nuzzled to your scent gland, avoiding the now drying wound right underneath.
In this moment, you felt a strange sense of intimacy with the radio demon. Despite everything that had happened, you couldn't help but feel a connection with him, a bond that was forged in the heat of the moment. You wondered what would happen next, whether this would be the start of something more, or if it would end here and now. Maybe he’d try to kill you off for good. Who knows.
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theemporium · 3 days
Note
cece my love!! huge congrats once again on 10k!! could i please request a ‘smut-berry daiquiri’ with nico, 8. “let’s put that smart mouth to good use.”
(brat tamer nico brain go brrrrr) -lee
you are absolutely evil for making me spiral over brat tamer nico again but thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
8. "Let's put that smart mouth to good use."
.
You were winding him up. 
You knew you were. You knew you were testing his patience. You knew very well that you were being difficult, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. You were coming off a six day work week, your colleagues were getting on your last nerves and every minor inconvenience made it feel like the universe was against you.
From the barista fucking up your coffee order to your favourite blouse getting snatched against a handle at work and ripping, it was just a build up of small things that continued to irk you throughout the week. It was annoying, irritating and made you want to scream at everything in the world.
But that wasn’t an option, so now you were feeling a little snappy and impatient and you just fucking wished that everything in the world stopped so you could catch your breath for, like, two seconds.
“Did you say it was white or red wine that went better with the dish Nina recommended?” 
It was a simple question. It wasn’t even like he had been pestering you with questions all day the way your colleagues had been doing the whole week. But it seemed to be pulling the fray, stray string that was holding the last of your patience together.
“Can’t you just google it?” You muttered under your breath, your eyes locked on whatever mind-numbing document your boss had forwarded to you, despite the fact it was well past your office hours. 
Nico glanced towards you but didn’t say anything. Because he was Nico and he had the patience of a saint and he knew you had a rough week. And there was a level of guilt there, that he had been busy with the team and a roadie earlier in the week. He thought the homemade dinner might help cheer you up, help you relax a little. 
But he was quickly seeing that wasn’t the case.
Ever since you had got home, it was whispered comments and sassy remarks muttered under your breath. It was eye rolls and scoffs and heavy sighs that made his teeth grit together. Just small little mannerisms that, usually, he would be able to brush off. Except now they were building up and he was losing his own patience. 
You were acting like a brat, to put it simply. And Nico’s tolerance had reached it’s fucking limit when you grumbled something under your breath when he asked for a hand to load up the dishwasher. 
You barely had a chance to grasp what was happening when you felt his hands on your hips, spinning you around and crowding you against the counter until his body was pressed up against yours. You gaped up at him, the words that were racing through your head a few seconds ago now lost as you stared up at your boyfriend. 
His brows were furrowed together, strands of his hair falling down to frame his face. He looked pretty, even if he looked fucking pissed with the soft glare and downturned lips. 
“What’s your problem? I’m trying to be nice and you’re acting like this,” Nico muttered, hands propped on either side of you to trap you against the counter. 
“I’m being fine,” you managed to grumble out, lifting your chin to look up at him like your heart wasn’t thundering in your chest. “Maybe you’re the problem.”
His brow cocked upwards. “Yeah? Think I’m the one acting like a brat?” 
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” you snapped back, the words leaving your lips before you even thought it through.  
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Got anything else to say?” 
“Maybe I do—” You started, that slight twinge of irritation hitting you again as you itched to get rid of it. But before you could even finish your sentence, Nico’s fingers were squishing your cheeks together as you looked up at him, slightly surprised but mostly intrigued.
“Such a brat,” he tsked, tilting his head as he glanced over your face. The way your big eyes were locked on him, the way your body was leaning into his touch, the way your lips looked so pretty and tempting all at once. “What am I gonna do with you?” 
You went to say something, but only a slightly choked out whine left your lips when you felt him push his leg to rest between yours. 
“Is this what you wanted?” He said, his voice leaning close enough to mocking that it had your body flushing in response. “Wanted my attention? Wanted to rile me up until I snapped?” 
You swallowed, nodding your head a little.
“Poor baby,” he cooed as his other hand rested on your hips, squeezing softly to stop you from wiggling against his thigh. “My lil’ brat just needed to have the attitude fucked out of her, hm?” 
Your eyes fluttered shut, a soft buzz replacing the racing thoughts that had been overwhelming you all week as you felt his hand dip under the hem of your shirt.
“Why so quiet now?” Nico commented, squeezing your cheeks until your gaze met his. “You were being so mouthy before. Where’s that gone, hm? Not gonna tell me what you want?” 
“Nico,” you whined softly when you felt his hand pull away from your torso, now resting down at your hip again. His other hand moved away from your cheeks, softly cupping your face and the soft act made your heart flutter.
“Tell me what you want,” he said, soft but demanding and it made your stomach dip.
“You,” you breathed out. “Please. I just…I just want you.” 
He watched you closely. “Gonna be a good girl?” 
“So good,” you murmured, your lips slowly parting as his thumb brushed against your bottom lip. Before he could even string a sentence together, your lips wrapped around his thumb, sucking as a low groan sounded from the back of your throat.
“Hm,” Nico hummed, hooded eyes watching as you lazily sucked on his thumb, tongue swirling around his digit like you usually did with his cock. “Let’s put that smart mouth to good use. See how snarky you get when your throat is all fucked out, hm?”
A pathetic whine sounded from you, one that was downright filthy but made his grin widen nonetheless. 
“There’s my good girl,” he cooed, pushing his thumb deeper into your mouth. “Now, are you gonna listen or do I have to carry you to the bedroom?”
.
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jeonzvi · 14 hours
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pairing: husband!jungkook, dlif!jungkook, fem!reader genre: (m) smut
warnings: vulgar language, oral sex (f), fingering, moaning... think that's all..?
☆ note: i 'd took a mini break from posting, sorry!
p.s: please ignore any grammar issues, forgive me ^^;
jeonzvi - do not copy, translate or repost my work.
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Feeling a pair of arms wrap around your waist, you quickly turn around, only to be met with Jungkook’s proud grin. “Jeon, for fucks sake!” You complain, placing a hand over your heart with a pant.
Your husband laughs, placing a wet kiss on your throat, and gently squeezing your body closer to his. “Sorry mama, didn’t mean t’scare you like that,” he apologizes in a sweet yet sarcastic tone, making you roll your eyes at the half-assed apology.
Although, he places a wet kiss on the side of your neck, easing your annoyance towards him. “Whatever,” you mumble, narrowing your eyes at him. Chuckling, he shifts his hands, one on the back of your head and the other against your lower back.
“Where’s Yuri?” He asks.
“In her room, taking a nap,” you reply to which Jungkook gives you a smuggish smirk. It has you deadpanning, staring at him with a sigh. “What do you want, Jungkook?” You query.
Watching his features fall and lips form into a pout, he lowers his voice so it’s quiet⎯pleading. “Jus’ wanted some pussy,” he murmurs out his answer, giving you his puppy-dog eyes.
How could a man, that’s not damn near innocent, say such a thing yet sound so fucking pure?
“Jeongguk!” You gasp as he lifts you up, sitting you against the island counter behind you, your thighs squeezing together at the coldness against your skin. “What? We have time, baby. Relax,” he drawls with a sleazy grin.
Truthfully, he’s right. Yuri’s only been napping for 10 minutes.
Jungkook slides your flimsy shorts down with your thin, white lace panties, letting them fall onto the wooden tiles. He drops to his knees; his large hands resting on your thighs.
Rolling his eyes as you try closing your legs, he gently forces them open once more. “Hey, don’t be shy now. Calm down,” he grumbles. “I’m cold!” You quietly scold.
“I’ll warm you up,” he promises, looking at your eyes with a pretty twinkle.
Jungkook brings his lips towards your pussy, planting a tender kiss on your clit, his lip piercings brushing against your throbbing mound. “So wet, mama,” he lets out a breathy chuckle, bringing his hand towards your clit and using his thumb to add stimulation.
“All for me?”
Weakly, you nod. “Mhm,” you hum at the stupid question, head tilting back as he rubs your clitoris in small circles. Your husband slides his fingers towards your hole, connecting his mouth with the sweetness of your pussy.
Tonguing your glistening folds, he inserts a single digit, letting out a muffled groan as you clench around him, licking a long strip with a drunken smile.
Your thighs shake, yet Jungkook holds them down which doesn’t let you move. “Jeon,” you murmur, a moan blending with your soft call.
Sliding your fingers through his soft, dark strands, you tug on them as he begins to flick the tip his tongue repeatedly, pumping in two fingers. Your pussy makes obscene noises, the sounds only making you inch closer to your climax. “O-oh, fuck!” You gasp.
Even when you cum, your husband still works in between your thighs, making sure to get every last drop of your liquids. At the strong yet still pleasurable overstimulation, you squirm against the cold counter.
“Such a good girl, hm?” He laughs, detaching his mouth from you.
“Shush, it’s not my fault you’re obsessed with my—” Oh, God.
Whining and whimpers come from Yuri’s room, hearing her call for you and Jungkook. She hiccups, “Mama! Dada! Yuri’s ‘wake now!”
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