#yes even under the suit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

evansbby · 5 months

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark!Steve Rogers x naive!Reader

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

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

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

“The girl’s ready, Captain.”

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

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

“Good. You’re dismissed.”

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

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

That left Steve. But Steve had this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get on the bed.”

“H-Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Take it out.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stroke it.” He instructs you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“C-Captain, oh-oh my God–Ah!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“H-Huh?”

“You heard me.”

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

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

“You’ve never fingered yourself?”

“No!”

“Tell me why not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sniffle, “S-Sorry…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“N-No, Captain.”

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“W-Will it hurt?” You ask softly.

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’ve passed out.

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

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

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

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

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

“I-It hurts!”

“Address me properly.”

“C-Captain, it hurts!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now you can scream.”

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I deserve this, he thinks to himself.

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

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

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

“Answer me!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wh-What?”

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

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

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

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

“Use your words.”

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

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

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

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

Steve smirks, “You’re fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh yeah? What does it feel like?”

“D-Daddy – nngh…ah, I–I–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Answer me, baby girl.”

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

“Hold it.” Steve hisses warningly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wh-What–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“N-No, I–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His beautiful, broken little bride.

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

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

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

He deserved this.

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

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

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

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jazjelspen · 3 months

Text

my angel baby

(alastor w/ angel daughter reader)

[caution!!: EPISODE 8 & 6 SPOILERS. NOT PROOFREAD]

(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hazbin hotel. angel reader physically resembles a fawn. )

(right now this is considered a oneshot, unless there is a very high demand for a part 2 I'll happily make another one for funzies!)

(PART 2 IS OUT!!!)

(also apologies if alastor's last name isnt actually altruist LMAo I kinda just wrote it assuming so 😭 )

You made it to heaven, lucky you.

Heaven was surely a treat, you lived your days with the upmost happiness, the light of heaven shining on your skin with kisses as if praising you for your goodness and your sacrifices,

all your sacrifices.

You were currently taking the job over for St. Peter at the gates of heaven for just a few minutes to await for any wondering souls to appear, to help guide them while he came back from a lunch break. Normally they wouldn't allow a human soul like yourself with little experience in this kind of task to take charge of such an important job, but you were close to many of the high ranking angels and you have proved your proficiency in tasks that you set your mind to, so you were glad to help those in need.

You stood there reading through the millions of pages looking over all kinds of names, all seemed like names that you wouldn't normally hear back in your time when you died. Some you liked, others didn't exactly pique your interest much, but the advancement of names since the 1930s surely proved how much times have changed and how quickly time seems to pass in heaven.

You wonder if it is in hell too.

'Hell?..' you wondered as you shook your head and sighed, your mind has been on that place lately and you wondered if it was even worth the rent free space in your mind.

You were currently slouched over the book and decided to close it with a glum look on your face, your elbows now resting on the golden podium and your hands cupping your face.

Geez, and you've been thinking a lot about your old man.

What-- no wait-

You shouldn't call him your old man, let alone your dad, not even father, pops-- not even by his damn name.

Even so, as much as you hated it.. you couldn't help but still use his last name sometimes since it's what you were given when you were first taken in.

Your last name?.. why, you're forgetting already?

_____ Altruist is who you a---

"HELLO??"

You snapped out of your thoughts as your head slipped from under your palms, face planting onto the cover of the enormous book. In embarrassment you snapped your head back up and your wings followed suit, spreading open behind you in shock as your eyes searched for the voice that called out to you from below.

You finally darted down to see three oddly shaped figures, your panicked vision soon relaxing to see two girls and a man dressed in red from tip to toe.

How peculiar.

Your eyes only set on the girl at the moment since she was the one waving at you and basically begging for your attention.

"Hello hello! uh.. Down here!" The girl with long locks of pale yellow hair waved, her smile widening when seeing she's caught your attention.

"Ah- yes yes! Hello hello! Welcome to Heaven! May I.. uh-" you scrambled nervously to open the book in the middle of it, "May I have your name please?"

She nodded, also returning a bit of a shy attitude back "Yes of course! My names Charlie Morningstar!"

Just like that you flicked the pages to go to the names that sounded similar to the girl's, mumbling her name under your breath as your finger traced down each name on the list.. to your dismay you couldn't find it.

"You don't seem to be on the list ma'am.. how weird.. does this usually happen with St. Peter?.." you spoke in concern, mumbling the last part to yourself.

The girl then started to explain something about her dad getting her a meeting, your mind a little clouded still trying to find her name until you heard the forbidden name that no one inside the pearly gates ever attempted to say out loud.

"-- maybe try, Lucifer.. Morning...star-"

And just like that you slammed the book closed, no words coming out of your mouth but an exasperated look of shock freezing your face.

"Oh-hoho... that explains so much--" you gave her a small sheepish smile, awkwardly looking off to the side where your eyes couldn't help but drag themselves to the man dressed in red.

"Miss you don't think.. you could've..." your eyes at first looked at the man's waist, his coat lightly shredded at the ends and the stripes of the long suit guided your eyes upwards "-gotten..." up and up and your eyes met his. The red eyes, the ears, the small horns, the horrific aura, and..

Oh dear, you'd recognize that damned smile anywhere.

"--lost..?" the end of your sentence dragged on, taking a long while to finish since all you could think about is how this man is at the front door step of the place he shouldn't even be considered in being let to enter.

Alastor, your father from the living realm. Not connected by blood but by life and connection.

The man where you got your last name from by being taken in and called his daughter.

The red deer demon seemed to recognize you as well, a spark in his devilish eyes proved it so, but it was very brief since he more or less also seemed to relish the look on your face with his smile stretched further up.. however further up it could get.

Charlie seemed concerned at your reaction, waving her hand in front of your face gently as if to get you out of this trance. "Heyyy... are you okay?.." she asked with genuine worry until all of you were focused away from this bizarre moment when a set of three angels befell before you all. The two seraphims and finally-- St. Peter off from his break.

"_____. We can take it from here, we appreciate the help." The highest and oldest seraphim announced your name and her appreciation while gliding down a bit more earlier than the blonde angel you covered for, she and the younger seraphim's forms going from their true to more human-like appearances.

"_____! My dear friend thank you so much for covering for me, always a real helper you!" St. Peter popped beside you as he praised you while gently flying beside you, you looked up at him with a small nervous smile before opening your own wings to flap down from his podium and let him get back on the job.

"It's no problem at all, you know me! Always.. happy to help.." you spoke your last words to him before your wings gently took you down to set yourself beside another one of your friends, Emily! You never talked much to Sera that wasn't in a formal setting but Emily seemed so easy to get along with. She gave you a tight squeeze of a hug while saying hello which eased your nerves a bit more, of course they never fully disappeared with the man who ruined everything before you let out your last breath.. standing right in front of you.

The man that brought you up here in the first place.

The seraphims introduced themselves to the three residents of hell, the deer demon more quiet until finally finding a spot of silence to jump in and introduce himself as well.

"Why hello, a real pleasure meeting you two quite the pleasure! Never thought I'd ever get to see an angel up this close in my life HAHA! The names Alastor!"

The voice, the radio static over it, his name.

It was him, you recognized it as if you listened to him on the radio just yesterday, your own personal hell.

Whatever reaction or words the higher ranked angels said seemed to fizzle out of your brain as they were replaced with the memories of your last moments on earth.

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

"Father!" you screamed as you ran up to your childhood home, the home to which you were raised and kept in, your home in which you lived in with your father, Alastor Altruist.

For sometime you had suspected foul play when it came to your father's weird actions when the night came, the tone he spoke through his radio show when announcing several murders happening across and haunting New Orleans. You just didn't want to truly believe that the man that found you, a poor little orphaned baby, and raised you would do such disgusting and diabolical crimes.

You couldn't believe it.. until you finally saw it.

Your legs scrambled and fought each step to become faster, finally reaching the door of your home you slammed it open with a strong kick after jiggling the doorknob didn't work.

You knew the next murder he would commit would happen in your home.. you thanked whatever force that made you disobey him and look through his study since if you didn't you wouldn't know that right now there was blood to be shed.

The door opening and with your kick full of adrenaline and panic it made the door barley cling onto it's hinges. There your father was, on top of a wounded man that seemed to be gurgling and gasping to breathe as the victim attempted to claw at Alastor's grasp. Pieces of glass and wood broken across the entire floor, walls bloodied and worn out, pictures that hung neatly now cracked and lopsided or shattered on the floor.

Whatever happened in here, the victim was sure a fighter in the beginning.

You immediately without hesitation with full force pushed Alastor off the man, pulling the bloodied stranger by his wrist. The victim and you stared for a moment, him mostly realizing that he's being saved by a young girl like you. His lips parted to thank you but you could see Alastor raise his kitchen knife in the air and sprinted toward him to stab him on the back.

With no words left to share or spill you grabbed the stranger by the shoulders and with all your might pushed him and yourself away so that in the end Alastor ended up stabbing nothing but air.

Alastor grunted in frustration, his bloodied smile yet never faltering despite the challenge you now gave him.

The man snapped his head at you, eyes fixated at you before snapping back to his victim and raising his knife up once more, in a haunting motion his steps creeped and creaked towards the injured New Orleans citizen stricken with fear and terror.

Just like that, Alastor slams his knife down with no hesitation. The knife fully in his prey with no inch of the blade uncovered.

Oh-- wait.

That shriek, the sobs, the shaky breathing and the coughs of blood.. that wasn't his victim.

It was you.

His daughter, he stabbed his daughter.

For a moment you could see his crazed smile falter, the humane part of him uncovering itself for a moment, for you.

His little girl was covered in her blood because of him, the little baby he found on that cold rainy day is dying because of him, his bundle of joy that he took years to take care of is leaving him.. and it's all his fault.

He didn't know it was you-- he didn't know you'd be that stupid to sacrifice yourself for some random prick.

He didn't know that in the end, someone as evil as him could have raised someone as selfless as you.

"p..papa..?" you whimpered, your painful coughs of blood spilling out and going down your chin and your neck. "It hurts-- g.. it hurts so much papa.." you cried as the knife in your chest seemed to feel as if it was melting into your skin, becoming one with you. It obviously wasn't but the pain was just that painful.

Alastor's smile faltered and kept trying to stay up, his own set of tears falling down his face and onto your cheeks that were slowly losing life. Regret stabbing his own heart the way he did to yours. He let go of the knife and instead cradled you in his arms, just like how he used to when you would have nightmares as a little girl.

"Shh.. Shh.." he shush you softly as he gently patted your head, moving away any uneven strands of hair he could spot with his hands trembling in regret. "Little one.. don't worry about a thing, papa's here.. " he mumbled, the gentleness replacing what once was pure aggressiveness.

Your eyes slowly started to flutter closed, your pulse slowing down, breathing less profound, your limbs going limp, and your face.. contorting into a peaceful state of slumber.

Alastor watched as you passed in his arms, his faltering smile picking itself up once more to stretch itself across his face with tears pouring out his eyes. This wasn't a smile of joy, it was a smile to hide what he truly felt.. to lie to himself. "My little angel, forgive me please."

Those were his last words to you, words that in the end you couldn't hear.

And that man he tried to kill earlier? He escaped when he was given the chance, Alastor was sure the cops were to invade his home soon.. now there was just one thing left to do before he'd be found once again to pay the consequences.

He took your body to a beautiful forest filled with flower meadows. Alastor knew this was one of your favorite spots as a young girl, why not let you rest here.

Ah but as he was preparing to bury you in your final resting place... that darn deer hunter.

Well, you know the story. Mistaken for a deer, shot, that's the end of Alastor Altruist and his darling daughter, ______ Altruist.

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As you stood there you were awoken from your thoughts with the high angels escorting the princess and her other female companion into the gates of heaven, St. Peter welcoming them humbly with one of heaven's popular songs.

You were frozen, in shock. A chill went down your spine as you felt a foreign energy come closer.

You felt long fingers grapple themselves onto your shoulder which made you dramatically turn towards the hand and away from it.

Your father wanted to talk to you.

Your contrasting colors and appearances made this reunitement even more uncomfortable for you, his demon form seeming to match his disgusting self that he hid from the human world before.

His face was hard to read, especially with that signature smile of his that even in death he would never get rid of.

"Little one, my darling daughter.." he spoke, his voice seemingly trying to seem genuine but the radio filter over it made it feel condescending to you.. as if mocking you.

The look on your face was evident, you missed him so much but hated him with your entire being because of that hidden side he kept for years.

He continued "My little ____... out of all places I never thought I'd see you here. Oh but it's definitely much better than down under my little dove.."

Geez what was he even saying?? What were his intentions..?? You couldn't tell.. after all this time, you couldn't forgive this man, this serial killer, this demon, this.. monster. You couldn't.. not this soon anyways.

You took a deep inhale and exhale before fixing your posture and stance, trying to seem more professional and confident. "Sir, your hosts and companions are ahead of you. You wouldn't want to miss your introduction to a place you'll never see again after this day." Your voice stern and professional, trying your best to be void of emotion.

"Darling.. is that truly a way to greet your dear ol' father?" He spoke, hand stretched out while the other held onto his staff.

"Your friends are waiting on you, don't be late Alastor."

Just like that you turned your heel and gave him the cold shoulder, your wings spread and started flapping. Taking you up and away further into your home.. Alastor watched you as you left him once again, this time by choice.

Ah but he knew, he'd have his darling daughter back soon. His little angel that he cared for will forgive him.. he knew you had to.

With his grin widening even further he walked to catch up to the Princess of hell and her partner into the pearly gates, to see what other thing could entertain him while his daughter snapped back to her senses.

(hello!! thank you so much for reading I had a blast with this. as you can tell. once again thank you so much for reading! hope to see you soon! mwa mwa!)

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ridingthatd · 4 months

Text

𝄞 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤

`• sukunaxfem!reader, nanamixfem!reader, gojoxfem!reader, getoxfem!reader, nsfw, heavy smut, bdsm, multiple orgasm, over simulation, brain fucked, kinky, filthy •`

𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧. sukuna wasn't someone you can mess with easily. he wasn't amused by anything. the only thing that he was obsessed with were his weapons. his guns. his bullets. his bombs. his knifes. but his other obsession happens to be you. he was so fucked up. he was into a lot of fucked up shit. using the handle of his knife to fuck your ass. while he pound his fat cock into your tight cunt. he would go to as much as slicing his palm with the knife that was up your tight little hole. just to grab it and push it deeper inside of you. not caring about the blood that was dripping down his hand. spreading your ass cheeks with his bloody hands. while shoving his pierced tongue deep inside your throat. mixing his spit with yours. after all he was a maniac.

a maniac for you.

𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨. nanami was the type of guy. who would give of gentleman vibes. when you first meet him. he doesn't speak much. only grunts and nodes. but his actions spoke a lot. gently holding your cold hand into his rough huge ones. carrying you in his masculine arms. that were coated with tattoos. you would never tell how rough nanami was while fucking you. placing you on his face. sitting directly on his big nose. making you ride it. while roughly slapping your ass. abusing it till it's barely recognizable. and he wont let you stop. slamming you into his big nose. till your liquid is gushing all over his face.

nanami didn't speak a lot. but he touched a lot.

𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮. gojo didn't give a fuck. he didn't care about people's eyes. he didn't care about what people thought. because he knew they were under his feets. he didn't care about fucking you in public. having you sit on his lap with your tiny little skirt on at the club. just to unzip his pants. and grab his ragging tattooed cock. yes he had a tattoo on his long cock. it was the a symbol of your name. and his. he would shove it up your already drenched cunt. that was already filled with his cum. that he fucked into you in the car on the way here. bouncing you on his cock. not caring that everyone knows. sneaking his hand under your bra. just to grope your tits. pinching your nipples between his fingers. over simulating you. till you make a mess all over his suit pants. all over the seats you sat on. all over his cock.

and he was also a mess for you.

𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮. geto was a soft men. an emotional men. that wasn't ashamed of showing his emotions. whenever he's sad or anxious. he would cuddle you all day. slowly slipping his cock inside of you. not moving. just keeping it warm. while you sleep together. pushing your shirt over your head just to suckle on your lips while he keep his cock warm inside of you. but he also got another mood. whenever he's angry. he would fuck you. till you're crying. pushing you hard against the showers wall. just to shove his angry pierced tip inside of you. not caring if you had time to adjust. tearing his cock through your pussy. just to slip out. and have you on your knees. taking him deep down your throat. feeling his pierced tip. hit the back of your throat. he liked it this way.

and he liked you this way.

and this how you got here. chained up their meeting desk. both of yours legs forcibly spread apart by a chain. just like your hands. you were completely naked under their gaze. they were eyeing you just like a prey.

two small nipple clumps sucker were placed on your breast. pumping on your red sensitive nipples. it was to much. to much. it's like your nipples were being sucked by an inhuman force. they for sure put the pumpers on full speed.

you can hear wet sloppy sounds. sounds from them stroking their fat cocks at the sight of you. it made you even more horny. knowing they're standing their. cocks out. pumping it with their huge vieny hands just like the pumper is pumping your nipples.

you sway your hips, trying to get away from the cold metal that was being slowly shoved up your ass. whimpering, throat dry from how much you have been screaming.

"shh it's okay you filthy slut, you're going to like what daddy is about to feed your tight little ass" sukuna coo at you. in awe at the way your tight ass eagerly sucked in the cold plug that he gave you. his cock was so fucking hard. pants down- still in his suit. but his cock was out, hitting his abdomen. leaking on his abs.

you twitch taking it all in, you can feel inside it your tummy- so filled. and what had you in tears was that they didn't touch your pussy. they're tutoring you. simulating everything but your pussy. letting the cold air hit your wet cunt, but not filling it with their cocks that you were so desperate for. no. they were just stroking them in front of your body- your face.

sukuna place another cold metal. and another and another one follows. your eyes widen as your realise it was bullets- he was shoving bullets up your ass without mercy. your eyes roll back as hot arousal drips down your pussy. your empty pussy.

your eyes catch nanami. as he makes his way toward your face. you stick your tongue out. droll spilling down yours red puffy lips. that had nanami groaning. his hair messly place on his heated face. precum leaking down his pinkish red huge tip. tripped blondish hair was placed on his heavy balls.

"how can I deny my little baby?" nanami horsely mutters. as he shove his fat cock inside your mouth. hitting the back of your throat without any warning. his eyes rolling back at the squishy feeling of the your throat. he doesn't give you time to adjust either once he pull out and plugs his cock bain in. in full force. your chocking sounds full the room. as nanami grabs your hair, pushing your face harder into his fat cock. your lips brushing against his balls.

groans soon after fill the air. as the other three of his friends. place their cocks on your warm skin. sliding their wet cock on your warm skin. your body trembles. as you feel nanami whimpering before he spurt his boiling seeds deep down your throat. you felt like it will come out of your nose.

his friends soon follow, spilling hot shoots of their cum on your body. not finishing. till it was painted with their cum. you cry out as you squirt out finally after an hour of simulation. your body arch. the pumper is still sucking on your nipples. making your orgasm even harder. seeing black and white spots.

you didn't fully recover. but they didn't care. because you feel sukuna grabbing his huge cock that had a straight line of cold piercings starting from the tip of his shift. and ending at his heavy balls. the feeling of having his piercings caresses the tight walls of your pussy. you want it do bad.

"please- daddy please please" you whine. begging him to fuck you. begging to tear your desperate pussy. to feed it his fat cock.

"tch, someone need to plug her throat again. she's being a whiney bitch" he tsks at you. grinning from ear to ear. at your pathetic little state. before he shoves his pierced cock inside of you. hitting your womb directly. and you completely black out.

your eyes flutter open. pussy stuffed. it was teared. ripped with two fat cocks that were maniacally going in-out of your wet cunt. your ears were filled with squashy sounds that your pussy made. while your mouth was behind abused by also two cocks. reaching the back of your throat. rubbing on your tongue before fully going back in.

"looks like our sweet slut is finally awake" geto moans out as you feel the piercing that was on the tip of his cock, hit your throat. your eyes roll back making eyes contact with gojo. gojo who had his cock shoved deep your throat, next to his friends. his own cock rubbing against getos cock. mixing their precum together.

you glance down at your nipples. feeling a familiar tingly feeling. just to see them still being pumped.

even though your cunt was scratched out to the max with nanamis and sukunas cock. you still were sucking their cocks in. holding their cocks so tightly. it had them going animalistic. huffing and groaning. drooling into your skin.

the only thing that filled their mind. was the need to breed you. fill you so full of their seeds. "you fucking filthy." shove. "little". shove. " whore". shove.

sukuna growls out. going crazy. so drunk on your pussy that he completely lost his sense. he doesn't care if he dies like this. he doesn't care if he kills you like this. all he wants right now is to gush his hot cum inside your gready little pussy.

the harshness of sukunas cock also made nanami go crazy. with the way his fat cock was rubbing against his cock. it created to much simulation. your tight pussy sucked them together. he wanted to whine.he wanted to whimper. but he bit into your thighs instead. tasting your blood against his tongue from how hard his bite was.

"em going to fucking cum" gojo moans out. his hips were shaking. you can feel his cock twitching against your throat. tip leaking ready to spill. but nanami does it before him. a loud whimper left him as he pumps his fat cock one last time inside you before he gushing his white liquid out. your eyes crossed. enjoying the feeling of his cum. filling your tummy.

geto soon follows him. coating gojos cock that was next to his with cum. you didn't even realise you were drooling till now. as your spit hit gojos tattooed balls. and that seems to do it for him. because you feel another shoot of cum being gushed down your throat. feeling sweat salty taste of it.

your eyes cross as you feel nanami long fingers stroke your red puffy clit. throwing you to the edge as sukuna keep hitting your womb with his pierced cock. you body had never felt pleasure like this before. you scream, your cunt making an embarrassing loud wet sound before you squirt all your liquid out. the bullets that sukuna shoved up your tight ass, slipping out one by one in the process.

feeling your orgasm mixed with your pee being sprayed on sukunas abs seem to finally trigger him. causing him to let out the tiniest whine before he pulls his cock out and gush his white cum on your stomach. the same stomach he promise to put a baby in.

"I think I'm about to cum again" gojo groans out.

: ̗̀➛ for part 1 click 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

: ̗̀➛ for part 3 click 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

tag list: @miyaluvvsyou @gumitoru @lilharuchiiii-slit @evilbunny22 @silbersee @awhoreforfictionmen @d1cklethep1ckle @ivy-vivii @chxrryvibes @mysticprincessdonut @i88b0nten @man-eaterfr @apwing @callmekimjennie @sheeesh-life-sucks @kariatenoh @ebonysdark @marusatonanhin @suukunnnaaa @jadedsgsg @creolequeen11210 @charisthemaniac @lemonintrovert01 @rosemaydone321 @deadlikestorm

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churipu · 2 months

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BEAUTIFUL FEATURES 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, nanami kento, fushiguro megumi

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. cursing on gojo :)

note. while i'm working on chapter 5 of my killswitch lullaby series, i'm gonna upload something because i just got home from a get together with my big family, and part 5 of killswitch lullaby is still halfway done :(

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

"you have freckles."

averting your eyes to gojo through the mirror in the bathroom, you nodded, "mhm, they've always been there," it's not like you've made them noticeable — so the reaction was expected, you never really liked them.

"why did i just notice them?" he asks, leaning his shoulder onto the doorway, "i mean — they look really pretty y/n."

pretty didn't sit well with you, especially not when you grow up hating that certain feature. chuckling out softly, you raised a brow, "they're not pretty, they're weird, 'toru."

the male blinks, "who said that?"

"everyone else but you—" he scoffs, throwing his face to the side with a lop-sided smirk, "what? why are you laughing?"

gojo shakes his head in denial, "fuck what they think — i think they're pretty, and they suit you. why would you hide it?" the blue eyed male watches your every move as your fingers pressed on the skin colored cushion onto your skin, sealing away the beautiful dots gracing across your cheeks.

"because i feel better without them." you nonchalantly answered, patting the cushion a few times to flatten the foundation. your freckles immediately drowned under it, disappearing from sight.

gojo was silent, his face was indescribable — and you don't know what he had in mind next. frankly, he's a little angry. not at you, anyone but you. the male then stepped towards you, throwing an arm around your waist, "can i ruin your make up just the slightest bit . . ?"

"yes, but 'm not going to talk to you for the rest of the day . . . or two."

the blue eyed male chuckled, but he wasted no time wrapping his slender fingers around your wrist, peppering gentle kisses across your cheeks, right over the semi-wet foundation — leaving traces of his lips on your face. gojo didn't even care about the sticky substance graved on his lips.

pulling back, he seemed satisfied at his work of art. your make up ruined almost completely as your foundation was smeared away, the smooth layer now barely even there at all, and all was left was trails of his kisses over your sun kissed freckles.

"you're so beautiful, i'd kiss you right now — but i wouldn't want to get foundation in your mouth," he whispers, instead of leaning into your lips, he pressed his foundation laced lips along your forehead, engraving his lips on your skin.

"you're so cheesy—"

"way to ruin the moment, y/n. really great! you're lucky i love you," he grazed his thumb over his art, wiping away your foundation, "i love you and everything about you."

smiling lightly, you nod, "i love you too."

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

nanami traced his finger on your skin behind your ear, the tip of his finger grazing over the same spot again and again. his eyebrows furrowed the slightest bit, "what happened here?"

you glanced at him, "hm? what happened where?" the male didn't answer, but his finger traced your skin — specifically, where your birth mark laid. and he blinked slowly, "oh, i forgot about that. nothing happened there, 'ts my birth mark."

the male nods his head. his eyes never leaving the darker spot behind your ear, "i never knew you had one . . ." he mumbles out, a little upset he's never noticed such a beautiful feature on you through out the time he has been with you.

"i didn't want you to," you replied back.

nanami retracted his hand back, "are there any reasons why?"

craning your neck to face him, your e/c eyes averted around the room. anywhere but right at his eyes, "um . . . i don't think that my birth mark is an important feature, you know where i'm coming from?"

nanami in fact didn't, "unfortunately, not."

"i just don't think it's nice to look at," you tell him the truth, chuckling, "but i actually forgot that i had that behind my ear for a bit."

once again, his fingers flew to trace your birth mark, admiring it silently. strands of your hair gets tangled in between his fingers at the action, but the male wasn't pulling on it, "it's beautiful. you're beautiful."

"think so?" you asked.

nanami didn't answer you, but his hand cupped your face gently, pulling you close and before you knew it, his lips were on yours. it was a short kiss, but it was full of admiration and love, "i do. i mean it," he states out, gazing into your eyes.

"i love you, ken. you know that, right?"

"i love you more, y/n. you know that, right?"

𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

you'd think that your boyfriend wouldn't notice the way you strain back your smile from engulfing your face? frankly, thinking megumi wouldn't notice was something stupid — megumi notices everything, especially things about you. his partner.

"why do you do that?" he questions, leaning back onto the wall.

raising a brow at him in confusion, you replied back, "do what?"

"straining back your smile — why don't you just . . . smile?" his voice was quiet, but there was something behind it. not anger, not disappointment; megumi was just confused, was it something that he should be concerned about?

even if it wasn't, he is already concerned.

his question left your mind a little hazed, wondering if you should tell him the truth or just lie your way out of this. but (thankfully), you ended up with the first choice, "i didn't want to deepen my smile lines, they look weird."

now it was megumi's mind swirling with different questions, "smile lines? why— what? what?" he mutters under his breath — mind a little disintegrated.

"it leaves a mark behind, i don't like it—"

"you look fine." he cuts you off, "you have a nice smile, don't hold it back."

coming from someone like megumi, you thought it might have been the greatest compliment you have ever gotten the whole entire year. the first genuine smile popped out on your face after a bit, the apple of your cheeks rounding as you beam out at the male in delight, "really? you mean that?"

megumi sighs, nodding, "really."

"that means a lot to me, gumi. thank you," the male blinked — he wasn't sure what had gotten you so happy, surely it wasn't his compliment, is it?

it is, "yeah."

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #fluff #gojo satoru #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #nanami kento #nanami fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fluff #megumi x reader

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luvrxbunny · 6 months

Text

little spider

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

Prompt: Innocence

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader knows nothing about sex or feelings of arousal, clothed clit-rubbing? cum in pants, small feelings of embarrassment (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 3.3k

A/N: sorry im late but im kinda proud of this one so i hope it was worth the wait! <3

Miguel didn’t think he’d end up in this position, nowhere in his wildest, most perverted fantasies did he think that this would actually be the outcome of him recruiting you but… here we are.

You were assigned by the higher-ups to learn from him, they thought you had potential, and honestly? Miguel hated you when he met you, he felt like they were punishing him for something, that assigning him this raw recruit was just a flaunt of power. You didn't even have a suit he had to make you one, a trial suit first, to make sure all your vitals were good, to track your movements and decide what suit material would be best- or if you would have a digital one like him.

During the weeks of his monitoring of your vitals, he began to grow a bit fond of you. You were an adorable recruit and eager to please, you were thoughtful and always gave your all, something he really appreciates. One other thing he noticed about you… your dopamine levels were elevated around him, along with your estradiol and testosterone. He ignores it when he’s writing his reports, he tells himself that he doesn’t report it because the higher-ups don't need to know, not because he knows they’d make you transfer… He should’ve requested it the first time he noticed it but the thought of you, his sweet, innocent spider, all turned on just from being around him? It ignited something in him.

He updated your suit, saying that the data he was receiving wasn't enough, he made you wear the suit as he replaced the chip and tried to hide the smile in his voice when your spine straightened under his touch. The new chip could give him real-time tracking of all your vitals, but he set his watch to alert him anytime certain hormones spiked… estradiol and testosterone. So he conducted a little experiment over the following weeks, he’d lean into you more when you speak, holding your eye contact, he even broke out the smirk he used to use on girls when he was younger, and it worked on you.

His watch vibrated every time he was near you, if he walked up to you, it started being an alert to when you were near, it’d go off before you’ve even approached him, he’d walk into a room and it’d go off before he even saw you. It started to have an effect on him, he started to feel a spark in his stomach every time it went off, every time he’d meet your eyes and you’d have that expression he’d grown to know so well. That weak, almost pleading- yet confused look in your eyes and the sheer panic before tearing them away from his. He started having to grip whatever was in his hands as tightly as he could to control himself when you’re breathing would stutter after he complimented you on your work.

He started getting hard reviewing your logs after spending the day with you, watching your heart rate stay elevated, spiking along with your hormones, he can see your breathing pattern, and how irregular it is compared to when you’re not with him. How high your body temperature was… the main areas of heat. On his more weak days, he’s gotten himself off to the diagram of you, with the burning red spot between your legs as the focus of his fantasies.

Now you’re here, avoiding his gaze as his watch vibrates like crazy. “Miguel?” He looks at you again, trying to keep his gaze neutral, hopefully, to make this a bit easier on you… and him. “Yes?”

His voice is smooth as cocoa butter and you can feel his gaze burning into you. He started this heat inside you, one you’d never encountered before. It starts when you see him in the morning and doesn’t stop until you struggle to sleep- or at least it used to. But recently it’s been non-stop, a constant distraction that you can’t pinpoint, it feels like it’s in your hips, stomach, chest, and thighs all at once. It feels like it’s in his breath when it fans over your face, it's in his eyes when they lock with yours, and somehow on his fingertips when they brush over any part of you. You’ve spent hours a night trying to figure out what you can do about it, you’ve thought about even asking Lyla but decided the risk of her telling Miguel was far too great.

This past week it’s just been building on it’s self, almost unbearable with Miguel’s new immersive training. He takes you away to some deserted, closed-off place and trains you with no distractions, giving you nothing to focus on other than him and forcing him to give all his attention to you. Miguel’s attention, his gaze is what causes the most… pain. That’s what it’s become, a dull, numb, thrumming at the base of your stomach, like an itch you can’t scratch that just becomes a nuisance. You couldn’t handle it anymore and if you asked Lyla she’d just tell Miguel- so why not just ask him directly?

So here you are, avoiding his gaze because you’ve spent the entire day with him, building enough fire inside you- you don’t need to add any more. “I think…” You take a breath and turn to him a bit before forcing the words out. “There’s something wrong with me.” He puts his clipboard down, his concern, and his thick, veiny hand that comes into view piles onto the heat over-taking your bloodstream. He takes his glasses off and sits back in his chair, reaching his leg out to pull a chair beside you closer to him. You dare a glance at him and try not to collapse at his gaze, at the way his hair moves over his face for a moment as he motions for you to sit in the provided chair.

You sigh and sit down, your legs pressed tightly together, your palms resting on your thighs and your eyes focused on the back of your hands. You stay silent, your mind racing, your body warming further at the feeling of his eyes on you. “What’s wrong, little spider?” You suppress a shiver at the nickname as goosebumps rise over your skin, it’s been a problem since he picked it. “I’m hot.” The words shoot out of your mouth before you can second-guess them again. Miguel chuckles a bit, sending embarrassment through your body, sits back in his chair, and crosses his arms, prompting you to go on.

“I can’t fix it. There’s… someone.” Miguel pretends he doesn’t notice the way your eyes flicker to him. “For some reason, something about them just- “ You pause for a moment, truly baffled by the way you feel, trying to find some way to explain it. “They just do something to me and it won’t stop.” Your words start to sound frantic, a bit panicked. Miguel leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees to examine your expression. “It’s like there's a low- like a low vibration- or a frequency? Like the ones that are so low you can barely hear but you can sorta feel them? It’s like that but- but deep inside me.”

Your eyes close and eyebrows furrow as you describe the feeling to him. He tries to keep his breathing even as he hardens uncontrollably under the suit. You don’t even realize what you’re confessing to him. “Like it’s in my bones, Miguel.” You add emphasis, your hands digging into the material of your suit before raising your head to meet his eyes, hoping he understands the state you’re in. He’s almost dizzy at the way his blood rushes to his cock. He holds your gaze and tries to convey a baffled, thoughtful expression as he tries to calm himself.

“That’s- That’s odd. Yeah, um.” He takes a few deep breaths before sitting back again, unable to stay in your space any longer. “Do- Can you tell me who’s causing it? Perhaps it’s a side effect of their powers?” Your spine straightens and you shake your head at him gently. You twist your fingers in the fabric of your suit and your feet play with each other on the lab floor. “H-have you heard of any powers like that?” You ask him, a hopeful look in your eyes.

Clever girl.

“No, I haven't.” He sits back, spreads his legs, and runs his hands down his thighs and back with a sigh. He holds back a smirk when his watch vibrates and he hears you take a sharp breath. “I- I don’t know what to do anymore. It- I can barely sleep.” You sound distraught, broken, and tired. He’d be the messed up one if he didn't help you… Right?

“I mean… I can try running some tests?” He offers, he keeps his tone light, trying to keep his dark desires off your radar. You perk up at his offer, already up and out of your seat, standing in front of him with a smile. He keeps his eyes on you, trying to ignore the way your scent is assaulting his nose, giving away how badly you need him. “You think we could?”

He nods and stands up, walking over to his lab table and clearing a few things. His head is already running wild with fantasies, ideas of what he could do to you, what he could teach you, how good he could make you feel. “Yeah, of course. C’mere, pequeña araña” You were already walking to him but your pace stutters and his watch vibrates when the nickname slips out. He truly didn’t mean to, he had gotten a bit too deep in his fantasies, and when your voice broke through he didn’t get fully pulled out. He’s never called you that in Spanish, not to your face at least, it’s fallen from his lips a few times before though, when he’s alone with his hand wrapped around his cock. But your reaction dissuades any fear that had shot through him before and he can’t help the smirk that makes its way on his face.

You’re standing silently beside him, wringing your hands together and he doesn’t think you even notice the way your thighs keep clenching together. “Get on the table.” His tone is teasing, a grin on his face as you jump and scramble onto the tabletop. You lay on your back and look over at Miguel, feeling that heat rage through you at the look on his face. It’s dark and- wanting. It’s confusing.

He takes a deep breath and your fingers try to dig into the metal table top as he walks to you. “Okay. I’m going to examine your body a bit, press into some muscles, some pressure points to see if maybe it’s a physical trigger. Is that okay with you?” Your chest is already rising and falling more rapidly at the thought, the promise of Miguel’s hands on you. You nod at him stiffly, trying to stay normal and calm as he holds your eye contact, nodding along with you. A small smile graces his face before he walks around and presses his palm into your hairline, pushing your head down to rest on the table as he stands north of you.

His hands press into your shoulders and your eyes shut tight. He can feel all your muscles tense and his watch vibrates, he sneaks a peak at his and sees the huge spike in almost all your vitals. His cock twitches in his suit at your obvious need but he brushes it aside, if he rushes into this he might scare you off and he doesn’t know what he’ll do if that happens. He may lose his mind. He moves his hands to your biceps, massaging them tightly as little whines slip into your breaths, only audible to his ears.

He walks back to the side of the tables and your eyes stay shut. He massages the softness of your sides and his breathing kicks up a bit once he gets to your hips. He takes his time with them, admiring the way you fit into his hands and how you subconsciously tilt them toward him. His thighs jump as his cock begins to leak, dripping precum down them. He takes a deep, shaky breath and forces himself to move on. He forced himself to move on, he was trying to take it slow, hopefully, you’d realize where you need him and ask for it. But your thighs spread open when he massages the outside and his hands dive for the inner before he can think it through.

You gasp, you sit up with your eyes wide and your hands gripping his wrists. You don’t do anything though, he expects you to pull his hands away but it feels more like you’re holding him there, stopping- or attempting to stop him from pulling away. So of course he doesn't. He stares into your eyes as you search his, trying to figure out if he realizes the way that made you feel, if your cover was blown, if he wants to stop but he looks expectant, like he’s waiting for something. So you loosen your grip. “That’s- I think that’s- ” You’re nodding at him lightly, hoping he understands what you’re trying to say because for some reason your brain has stopped working.

“Yeah?” Your heart stutters at his tone and the tilt of his head as he says it. Your thighs tense around his hand for a moment before you try to calm down, un-tense them but they can’t help the way they tremble with anticipation. You’re nodding at him more frantically and his eyelids flutter. “Okay.” He takes one hand out from between your thighs and rests it on your lower back as his other hand keeps massaging, slowly moving up your inner thigh and the sensations grow more intense the higher he gets.

Your eyes shut and your hands grip his wrists again, not pulling away, just holding him. Your eyes shut and your hips tilt into his hand, getting him so close to your pussy that he can feel the heat radiating off of her. You feel some sort of shame twinge in your belly, dampening the more intense feelings that Miguel was causing. What if this was wrong? What if you aren’t supposed to feel like this with him, without him knowing… Maybe you should stop.

Miguel moves further up and all those thoughts scatter from your head immediately. His watch vibrates again and a noise shoots out of your mouth- one you’ve never heard before as your body folds over and your head rests on his shoulder. You shut your eyes tight and take a slow, deep breath. “Sorry. Sorry, I-” He cuts you off. “It’s okay. That’s why I’m here, right?” He’s nodding at you, comforting and reassuring as his hand leaves your back to cradle your head. “You’re okay. I wanna help you, cariño.” Another noise leaves you at the nickname and his hand grips into your hair for a moment before sliding down to your neck and pulls your head away from his shoulder. He pushes your head against his for a moment, letting out a soft groan before letting go and pushing his fingers against your plush lips.

“How’s that, honey?” His hand settles back on your lower back as you whine and your hands move up his arm, gripping his biceps now and pulling yourself closer to him. “Miguel.” His eyes roll back at how you sound, desperate, breathless, and gone. Your hips are grinding into his fingers and they aren’t even on your clit yet. They’re pressing against your hole through your lips and your suit, he’s keeping his fingertips flat against you so he doesn’t slip inside.

He’s trying to ignore the mess he’s making in his pants, watching your tense face change into a relieved one, your eyebrows pulling inward as your lips part beautifully, releasing a shaky moan as he reangles his fingers to your clit. His hands are shaking as he tries to calm himself down, one of your hands slides up his arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake before gripping onto his shoulder and pulling him down, closer to your face. His eyes are fixed on your expression, taking everything in, every twitch and quiver, the way your tongue darts out to lick your lips before a whimper punches out of you.

You’re ruining him and you’re none the wiser. Your hand slides up to his neck and you push your forehead against his, like he did earlier. His eyes roll back before he forces them to you again, moving his fingers over you clit faster when your thighs begin to shake around his wrist. “I think-” Your voice comes out as a whimper and he groans into you. Your fingers grip into his hair and his cock cries against him. “Something… Miguel.”

The way you say his name fucks with him. It’s prettier than he ever could’ve imagined, he has to lean forward and press his throbbing cock against the edge of the table for relief. You’ve got him feeling like he could die, like he could implode if he doesn’t have you, if after this you realize what you need but get it somewhere else? It’ll be over for him. Your hand readjusts its grip in his hair, becoming more frantic as your spine straightens and your thighs close on his hands. “Miguel? I-” You cut yourself off with a moan and your head falls to his shoulder again, blocking your face from his view.

“No, no.” He brings his hand to the back of your neck again. “Let me see, amor.” He pulls you away from his shoulder and you moan at the nickname. Once again, it didn’t mean to slip out but you’ve got his head so cloudy he can’t help it. You’re moaning his name on repeat, like a warning and he’s pulsing at the thought, the promise of getting to see you cum, for him. His eyes can’t look away from you, he can’t see anything but your face, the way your brows furrow as you tense, and your nails dig into his arms, leaving reminders for later. He watches how you bite your lip before your jaw drops into an ‘O’ shape and his name falls from your lips one more time as a debauched cry.

He keeps his eyes open, watching you cum for him, how your lips form around his name again and again. He wants to collapse, fall to his knees with how much you’re turning him on but he needs to watch you. He forces himself to keep his eyes on you, ignoring the way they want to roll back at how he’s flooding his pants. His hips twitch against the edge of the table as he cums for you, with you. His mind zeros into the way he can feel your clit pulsing underneath his finger tips, how breathless you sound, trying to keep up with the noises he’s forcing from you. His stomach tenses painfully as his cock unloads more cum onto himself. You sound like an angel, crying out for him. He can’t help the way he dives for you, pulling you in to kiss him and swallowing every moan you’ll give him.

You whine into his mouth as his fingers slow down over your clit, your other hand meets the first in his hair and you keep his lips on yours. He keeps kissing you until you calm down and your breathing evens out. His hand comes from between your thighs and rubs your legs until you pull back from his lips. You have a bashful, embarrassed look on your face and it brings the largest smile that you’ve ever seen to his face. “Was that okay, pequeña araña?” You whine and pull him in for a hug, nodding into his shoulder as he chuckles and wraps his arms around you as you begin to giggle against him.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

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satoruhour · 4 months

Note

Just thought of something FREAKY in class… Single father Satoru looking for a babysitter and you’re looking for a side income during semester break and the tension goes crazy!!!! “We should’t be doing this my son will wake up” I’M GONNA SCREAMMMM

BLISS, PURE BLISS

a/n: happy new year LMFAOOO. thank you for all the asks btw i promise ill answer them asap 🥹 / @shotorus @osaemu @shidouryusm @mysugu @hyomagiri ♱

wc: 6.4k

warnings: ‘onee-san’ used but more of just addressing reader as an older figure because saying babysitter is kinda weird lol (kind of like how chinese people use 姐姐 even if they are not related), fem!reader, dilf!gojo, age gap (gojo in his late 30s, reader in mid-20s), angst if u squint, bit of slow burn n tension, making out, use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, praise, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, p -> v sex, multiple rounds, consensual filming, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

“no fucking way . .” you mumble mostly to yourself, standing in front of the largest house of the gated community in roppongi, and while you knew the people here were excessively and obnoxiously rich, you’re never quite prepared until you’re getting a key card specifically mailed to your name just so you could enter.

you’re not even shameful when you take a video to send to your best friends, locking your screen almost immediately because you knew you’d never get to the job on time if you replied to them. with calculated steps, you’re walking up the house that’s designed with a modern structure, yet still retaining characteristics of a traditional japanese home. it’s less prominent at the front of the house, though.

“(y/n)-san, was it?” a voice startles you out of your ogling sessions. if the garden was already this nice, what would be in store for you when you went in? you’ll be finding out soon when your employer himself opens the door to you, a man with striking white hair and equally striking blue eyes that seem to look right into you. he’s dressed in a suit, probably no doubt ready to get to work while you’re out here taking your time. you cringe, immediately walking up to the door.

“y-yes! yes, i’m sorry sir, i was just uhm—”

he holds that intimidating stare just for a moment but then he breaks into a smile that mirrors the bright sun that shines down on the porch.

“it’s alright . . it’s not everyday you’re working at some rich guy’s house, right?” he jokes but that strikes a little ick into you — he’s already ticking the boxes of obnoxious and excessively rich, but you hate the effect he’s having on you.

“yeah . . no, i guess,” he hums in reply before sticking a hand out.

“gojo satoru,” he introduces himself, “call me anything but that sir shit, alright, doll?”

you nod obediently, trying not to let the little pet name get to your head because he probably does this to any babysitter who comes through the house, but either way, he’s welcoming you in and it’s like you step into a world unreal. it’s spotless, the floors shining under the sunlight, a large television in the living room, a spacious open concept dining-kitchen area, and this is just the first floor.

gojo takes his time to show you the house — where his kid’s toys were, where the food was, where the bathrooms and bedrooms were, it was never-ending. every step you took made you feel like you were walking the length of the nile, each turn only revealing more rooms and corridors.

and then, finally, his baby boy.

“he’s a cheeky one, takes after his dad,” even with all the cockiness he’s shown to you, you can tell he has a soft spot for his kid. the boy stirs from his father’s voice, gleaming in happiness as he puts out his smaller hands to be picked up. as he settles into his arms, it’s just sinking in how tall your employer is. he makes a toddler look like a baby with how small his son looks wrapped snugly.

“satoshi, hi,” he whispers, bouncing the kid in his arms, “want to say hi to your onee-san?”

you manage a small wave but all he does is turn to hide in his father’s arms, definitely scared from a random stranger suddenly talking to him.

“she’s going to be taking care of you for the next month or so, you know?” he mumbles, brushing a hand through the matching white hair, “be nice to the babysitter, okay?”

all satoshi does is hum into his dad’s neck before he’s giving you a sheepish smile. “he’s like that, don’t worry about him.” and you return the smile, thinking that he wasn’t that obnoxious that you thought and that maybe he’s really a dad trying his hardest for his one kid. you realise he’s taking too much time, though, and so you sought out to remind him.

“oh, uh sir— gojo-san, don’t you have to go to work?”

although he’s mentioned satoshi to be taking after him, the boy goes right back to sleeping when he’s put back into his bed so you follow gojo as he adjusts his cuffs and smoothes out his collar just outside the room and you make the mistake of glancing upon the mirror on the far end of the corridor — it was undeniable that you looked like a high-end couple who’s newly married and raising a kid. you try to shake off the thoughts of adjusting his tie for him.

“it’s not being late if you’re on top.” he smirks and you resist the urge to roll your eyes; at least you weren’t alone in purging the delusional thoughts from your head, he was basically helping you at this point and you struggle between characterising him as conceited and admirable. “but, yeah, i should get going.”

but he stands at the door with backpack slung onto one shoulder while he continues to explain satoshi’s routines to you, his habits and also had to sneak in a few cute photos of the kid while squealing repeatedly and you’re left wondering how this guy could be the CEO of a company.

it’s been like that for as long as you can remember — bidding goodbye to your parents as you tell them that you’re off to your part-time job over the winter break. they’re happy you’re even leaving the house, shoving your lunch into your hands with big smiles that you’re at least doing anything other than sitting in your room. the train ride to the gated residential was nice, too, apart from the very crowded subways for people going to work in roppongi.

gojo greets you every morning when you arrive, reminding you of satoshi’s feeding times and his favourite shows and everything a father should know but don’t have the luxury to experience with aforementioned kid. it’s a little bittersweet, every time you see him kiss satoshi goodbye that turns into remaining in his room, to holding your hand and saying goodbye to daddy from the second floor, to getting carried by you at the front door.

it’s slow but sure progress day after day, from watching his cartoons, feeding him at the kitchen island, playing with his toys, that satoshi feels more and more comfortable with you, learning that while he was a well-behaved boy, he definitely had hints of your employer in him. mannerisms, words, voice, you wonder whether he even got any part of his mother in his genes.

you’d never ask, though, but it was told. unexpectedly.

“i’m home—” the last parts of his word die down into a whisper when he opens the door to see satoshi cuddled up to you, the last bits of home alone playing softly. by now you already know what happens in the movie so you’re texting your friends and laughing softly to yourself, jumping when your boss steps past the doorway. gojo winces when he checks his watch (“fuck. it’s already ten.”), toeing his shoes off and apologising simultaneously.

“oh— man, i’m so sorry, i had a late meeting with the CEO of our neighbouring franchise, i totally forgot about the time—” gojo’s quick to make his way down to the small pit of the house (he likes to call it the conversation pit), settling down on the side where satoshi had his head in your lap as his eyes linger on the movie. instinctively, his hands reach to pat his leg.

“oh, it’s okay, gojo-san, it’s the holidays anyway.”

“yeah?” he turns to you, one arm propped on the back of the sofa, “and why don’t a pretty girl like you have any plans?”

that catches you off-guard, among the many other times he’s called you pretty or sweets like no care in the world. you’re never quite used to it, too, seeking to fluster you. “you shouldn’t say stuff like that to me, gojo-san . .”

“why not?” he’s turned back to the television, now, and you take his place, staring at his side profile as the scenes of the movie move along his face. “i’m a single dad, aren’t i?”

“yeah but . . you could have anyone.”

“what if,” he turns and you chicken out, head snapping back to the front while he watches you and the both of you cannot deny the tiring dance you perform around each other all the time. the clench in his heart when he sees you carry his baby boy at the porch and the small smile he gives you every morning before he leaves for his job. he doesn’t want to go through with it and sighs.

it’s become hard to breathe around you. it’s become hard to hold himself back around you.

“i worked too much.” he suddenly says, facing the TV again. “i was too engrossed and . .”

confusion seeps in at first. yeah, it was no secret he worked his ass off despite being at the very top. your gaze falls to satoshi, curling more into your side like he’s cold and you adjust the blanket. you nod in recognition.

“we fought a lot. i tried— i tried to alter my schedule as much as i could, driving to and fro whenever she needed me, bringing satoshi to work as a baby when we couldn’t come to a compromise, but it was a lot. for her, for satoshi. he could sense whenever we were about to fight, on edge voices, items clattering to the floor . .”

by now, he’s leaned back, back of his hand resting on his forehead, “and he’d cry like he was interrupting us. cheeky, i told you,” and his eyes close, “we hardly reached middle ground. it was either this or that, hire a nanny or we take care of him, my endless job or the joy of life. i’m ashamed that i’ve prioritised my job more, and still do it now.”

“if you didn’t, i wouldn’t be here, would i?”

that draws a chuckle out of him, “correct.”

“she couldn’t take it, not when she was a businesswoman on top of that. she was out doing herself at every aspect in her job, going to greater heights, and while she accused me of putting work first, she isn’t entirely innocent, either. but that’s . .”

“you don’t have to say anything, gojo-san,” you mumble as you watch the reunion of the characters in the movie before the screen cuts the black, no doubt affecting him in some way at the warmth displayed by the movie that contrasts heavily with his situation, “the fact that you even told me is . .”

the heavy atmosphere is disrupted by satoshi gasping, “papa! you’re home.”

you exchange awkward smiles as you watch the boy fight his way out of the blanket to hug gojo, the latter huffing when the boy drops his body weight on him and you take it as a sign to give them a bit of privacy, standing up to clean up the popcorn and cups. laughter and your employer’s voice resonate throughout the place even as they go up the stairs, a rare occasion where gojo is able to get his son ready for bed.

it’s only maybe an hour later when the house falls into silence. mouth burning from the mouthwash, the heater in satoshi’s room turned to a high setting, one bedtime story was read (which, he fell asleep halfway), the boy was out like a light. you felt it inappropriate to leave without at least saying goodbye, but you also didn’t want to cut into their time together; at least, that’s what you told yourself.

so you waited with your things on the kitchen island, getting a risky text just as gojo comes down, still in his suit from work.

[11:02pm, nobara -> you] BITCH GET THAT DICKKKKK!!!!!!!

and you yelp softly, slamming your phone down onto his marble counter. thankfully, he doesn’t notice, eyes close to shutting from fatigue.

“oh, shit, you’re still here?”

“i thought it would be, weird, if i didn’t say goodbye,” you get ready to leave, slinging your tote bag on, “but i also didn’t want to intrude on your time with satoshi, limited as it is.” well, you did also wish something would happen, but you had too much pride to admit it to yourself.

“you got a ride home?” he yawns and you feel guilty for extending your stay already. you didn’t even need to worry about the front door, he lived in a gated community for christ’s sake!

“um, not really, but i can always book an uber home.”

“i’ll drive you home, it’s unsafe,” is all he says like he’s trying to convince himself, “let me just get changed and we can go.”

gojo doesn’t leave you any room to protest before he’s up the stairs again and you’re left with a pounding heart and dizzy head, not sure what might ensue. you know him to be honourable; you’ve seen him with his child, you’ve seen him interact with his neighbours, but a late ride with your boss sounds sketchy as it is.

but it doesn’t feel like it when you feel the tokyo wind blowing through your hair, a slight gap in the window bringing you the chills of the night as he silently drives you back home. sitting in your employer’s car most of all felt weird, but even more so when he’s reaching your home faster than the gps system had predicted. his knuckles are white.

“you—”

your head snaps to him, “yes?”

his car headlights are the brightest in the parking lot where every car is silent, quiet, much like his clammy hands and red cheeks. gojo satoru turns to you, feeling that familiar tug in his heart and lump in his throat for the first time in a while, and he can’t speak.

but you lean forward like your life depends on it and you leap inwardly when you see that he does the same. eyes trained forward, your stares boring into the other, waiting to see who’d close their eyes first. you just stop short of an inch, met with the hypnotising swirls of raging oceans in gojo’s eyes and you swallow when his eyes flit down to your lips and back up like he wouldn’t get caught.

with shaking hands, your fingers trace over his lips and you sigh when you feel just how soft they are, just like his skin, just like his eyes when they look at satoshi. your heart skips a beat when he just lightly kisses the pads of your fingers, and that encourages you to cradle his cheek, up his jaw, up his undercut.

“let’s just kiss, yeah?” he was afraid that if he spoke too loud, he’d shatter the glass, snap the string of tension, voice cracking until you swallow it, you stomach his nervousness with a lively, strong kiss from your lips to his, and he just melts.

gojo hums into the kiss, leaning forward over the stick shift and into the passenger seat before you counter it with your own movements: hand on his shoulders and pushing until you’re on his space of the driver’s seat and playing the game of tug that’s been going on for the past few weeks. you win.

“god, you’re so . .” gojo whines out when you climb onto him, whispering into your mouth while you get comfortable in your straddling position, cutting him off with a second, rougher kiss and you both moan softly, passion taking over in the evident way your arms scramble to wrap around him while he pulls you flush against his front.

the car is filled with sounds of your kissing, something that definitely shouldn’t be done in his home and yet you risk it all in your home’s parking lot. you break the kiss and hide in his neck, already starting the makings of a hickey there while your pelvis selfishly grinds into his front and he kneads your ass. in the mingling of breaths and moans, he’s left to stop the two of you when there’s a muffled ringtone coming from your bag and you swallow at the insanity of the situation.

“i’ll see you, monday, right?” gojo breathlessly says later, bulge still showing through his sweats while you hang outside the driver’s side, not wanting to leave. he takes your hand, planting a peck on it and then brings you in for another harmless kiss.

“yeah, gojo-san . . monday.”

you lose count of how many times you’ve swallowed throughout the night, but he says something to lift the mood just a bit.

“we just made out and you’re still calling me by my last name?”

you laugh lightly, “monday, satoru. i’ll be there, same time, on monday.”

gojo leaves a farewell kiss to the inside of your wrist, “attagirl.”

but if you’re not careful, it might just happen in satoru’s house.

the remainder of your employment at his house is tiring. it’s so hard not to kiss him before he leaves for work, so difficult not to long for him while you take care of satoshi, so entirely harrowing not to claim him as yours as you watch him play after his work. at this point, you’re hoping school will just start soon and the rush of assignments and readings will take your mind off of it, but you cannot deny the excitement every time you leave your house.

“you’ll bring food and cook every monday, wednesday, friday, and i’ll order food for the both of you every tuesday and thursday, how’s that?” gojo thinks it’s time to introduce him to larger pieces of food, but it’s gone past that by now and to your meal arrangements.

“i’m okay with cooking, though!” you assure him, and plus, you loved your parents’ home cooked bentos that they give you everyday, “do we gotta?”

“sorting out meals is tiring, (y/n),” gojo takes the place beside you, leaning against the counter just like you before drinking out of his cup, “i want to at least help at little.”

“you already are.” you smile, “i can see you making the effort.”

“it’s not enough, though, i could be doing better.”

gojo hates how this scene sets up — like two parents just figuring out the best for their kid — it’s a callback to the memory in the same exact kitchen. at least all you do is kiss and make out, because he wouldn’t know what to do if you moan out his name in that same intimate way that threatens his walls to come down again. he loved sex, he loved the bedroom, but he’s riding a thin line the way he’s doing with you.

“you are,” is everything that you say, and you leap forward to kiss him. you do it so hard that he has to put down the glass to fully embrace you, walking you backwards to the conversation pit and he carries you so effortlessly because he doesn’t want you walking backwards down some stairs.

he hates how you bring him into your lips, he hates how gently he lays you down, and he hates how you accept the kisses down your neck and body. you, on the other hand, aren’t doing so well, either — it’s either a hit or miss with a broken man like gojo satoru, and you’re stepping on glass shards hoping you don’t say anything wrong with him because he’s trying his best but he just can’t see it.

“are you okay with this?” he asks halfway down your torso and he gets lightheaded from how well his hands cover your waist. “tell me to stop, and i’ll stop.”

“n-no . . keep going, satoru.”

he exhales shakily at that, fingers tugging your top up and his hands are so cold you resist shivering, but you do anyway from the sheer fucking craziness that gojo drives you into. one pop of your button, and you’re already lifting your hips off the couch for him to remove your pants but movement on the stairs make you halt.

“papa?” satoshi calls out sleepily, rubbing his eyes and pouting. you can see it, almost, with how much time you’ve spent with the kid, and you hope he can’t see you. “i . . i had a nightmare and i just— i wanna sleep with you.”

he’s started sniffling and you feel your heart break that he knows his papa well enough to know he would never sleep in his room. his job always has him sleeping out in the living room.

go. you mouth, kissing your fingers and pressing it to his lips before he puts on a show — yawning, stretching his arms, already making satoshi feel at ease with his theatrics before he’s stopping at the foot of the stairs to look back at you. you already know gojo satoru has redeemed himself a hundred times over. i’ll see you tomorrow.

funnily, satoshi somehow does have some intervention powers, because each time the both of you attempt to go down on each other, he’s either saying he threw up, or he needs to use the toilet, or that he’s hungry. while you both love him to death, it’s also becoming difficult to hold back each time you see each other. his car in your parking lot is all he has and you dare not to go to his workplace where rumours would spark.

so after a tiring night of getting a hyper satoshi to sleep, you’d at least try. at this point, you know not to expect too much out of it, starting always with some talking. it was easy to talk to your boss, and when you phrase it like that, it did come off a little strange, but it was far from that when your boss in his late 30s looked just like he did ten years ago and that he had crazy blue eyes and insane white hair and was hot.

“thank you for taking care of him for the past month and a half,” gojo thanked you, leaning over to give you a peck to the temple, “it means a lot.”

“he’s a sweet boy, plus, i do need the money,” you giggle, nudging him, “and it did let me get to know you . .”

“certainly,” he mumbles. drunk off your scent, he leans in again, kissing you fully on the lips now. you hum softly, going on your tippy toes and wrapping your arms around his shoulder. swiftly, he props you on the kitchen counter and you yelp in surprise, unable to help the throb of your pussy when he slots himself in between your legs.

jokingly, he puts his hand to his ear. “no satoshi interruption tonight?”

you smack his shoulder, “don’t jinx it.”

he laughs, a proper laugh before he sighs shakily, fingers thumbing your sides gently. “you know . . we shouldn’t be doing this,” you feel your heart sink a little, but he quells it with hovering lips over yours, “he could hear and wake up.”

“then why have you been accepting all my kisses, gojo satoru?” your eyes challenge him, but you know one touch from him would have you submitting to him. his breath fans over your lips, and you can feel his pulse speed up when your fingers go over his neck, to his nape, to his undercut. you run your fingertips through it.

“you have too much power over me, simple.” that sentence has your eyes fluttering close. it’s too much for you and yet you welcome it with open arms, “it’s become so bad that you’re all i think about.”

“is that so?” you pull lightly on his hair.

he nods, foreheads touching now and he’s trying to hold himself back, but, “i’ve been holding back, entirely too much, baby, and i don’t think i can, anymore.”

“yeah?” you whisper, bringing him in with your legs, “show me, then.”

gojo satoru decides that maybe taking the leap isn’t so bad, so he fully gives himself to you, tugging your lips to his in a clashing kiss that has you groaning in pain just a bit. he giggles and apologises and tries again, and this time, it’s got your hips moving against him, whimpering into his mouth. gojo’s hard just from kissing, something that he’s desperate to relieve himself off so — he’s whispering for you to hang on while he slots his hands under your ass and lifts you.

satoru knows his house well, walking up with you in tow and lips still on yours, right into his room. you giggle when he plops you down and he’s already looking forward to ravishing you, but —

“let me check on satoshi for a sec.”

you laugh silently, “of course, satoru, go.”

and once your boss’ made sure his son is out cold in slumber, he’s all over you again and definitely showing you how much he’s been holding himself back. you’re the pure focus of the night, making you chase for more when he pulls away and kissing down your body. he worships it, tongue circling a nipple while his hand plays with the other, eyes staring holes into yours from how intense the blue was.

“s-satoru . .”

“yes, sweets, what is it?”

“feels good—” you whine, back arching into his hold once he leaves your tits and continues down your body. each kiss is like hellfire against your cold skin, and he pops a button and listens out again, both of you sighing in relief and giggling to each other when you don’t hear a knock on the door.

“does it? good.” it’s tantalisingly slow, the pace at which gojo peels your clothes off, but when your pants are finally off, he marvels at your beauty as he brings your legs apart. you’re shy, hiding yourself behind your arms and resisting his hands.

“aht, no, c’mon, show yourself, baby.” he only moans when he sees the dark patch at the centre of your underwear, pressing a finger into your clit and you’re ashamed at how intensely you react to it. gojo continues his torture, thumbing your bud just to watch your face contort into pleasure, “so, so pretty.”

you preen at the praise, even more so when he pulls your panties to the side and sucks slowly on your clit. it’s slow, again, and you’re clutching the sheets so tight when he lays his tongue flat against your pussy. satoru takes his time, savouring each bit of your cunt to make up for lost time, filling the room with the lewdest noises of your sopping cunt on his tongue.

“taste so fuckin’ sweet, pussy’s s’good,” he practically moans into your core, arms wrapping around your thighs to bring you closer while you try to keep your noises down to a minimum. little pants and mewls leave your lips, eyes never leaving the head of hair.

but he’s unpredictable, as gojo always is, so when he’s hovering over you just to give you a little innocent kiss, you think nothing of it, until he’s back in front of your pussy and starts eating you out like a starved man. you let out a loud moan, dragging it out until you’re gulping down your next sounds. it doesn’t help much, though, cause gojo’s slurping at your pussy like it’s the end of the world.

“s-satoru—! too much—” you moan but your hips grind into his mouth, your hands now finding purchase in his hair, “t-too loud.”

“mmf— don’t care,” he mumbles into your cunt, making sure he gets every drop of your arousal on his tongue while he abuses your clit, alternating between flicking his tongue and sucking hard and you think it’s the best head you’ve ever gotten.

“not when your cunt’s so perfect,” you only press his head deeper into you like it would stop his muffled sentences, but that only spurs him to suck harder before he just shifts down a little to plunge his tongue into your hole. you choke out a moan as his nose nudges your clit, clenching around his muscle.

“relax— mmhh, you gotta relax, baby,” he’s massaging your thighs but if anything it does the exact opposite, closing your thighs around his head in sensitivity.

“it’s— h-hard to,” you moan out, already feeling the coil in your tummy that’s approaching oh, so quickly when gojo eats you out like this. he shifts his attention back to your puffy clit, eyes flicking up to make contact with yours and you shrivel under his intense stare, “w-when you’re making me feel s’good—!”

you feel him smile into your cunt but he says nothing, taking note of the drop of your jaw, the scrunch of your eyes, the contractions of your stomach. your legs like to straighten out and shake when you’re close, he memorises. when you start to tighten your grip on his hair, he ingrains it in his mind.

“cumming— i’m c-close,” but it’s like satoru doesn’t even need it when his eyes digest the way he sends you over the edge with just his tongue.

“g— god! satoru!” your mouth falls into a silent scream after, head dipping so much into the pillow while you grind your cunt into his face, gushing all over his face with a renewed spirit and regret for all those times that men have rubbed your left lip thinking it was your clit.

“let it go, yeess . . that’s it,” satoru doesn’t hesitate to get sloppy, sucking up all your cum, gasping for air once he’s done with his meal, “pretty girl just came all over my face.”

you struggle to your elbows despite the words he utters, propped up just to catch a glimpse of him and the soaked bottom of his face that stretches into a smile.

“was that better than all the uni boys who’ve never felt the touch of a woman?” you laugh at that, making quick work of grabbing his chin and bringing him back to your lips.

“much, much better.” and you take the opportunity to flip the tables, trembling, shaking legs trying their best to wrap around his torso to straddle him — but once you’re over, you’re not quite sure what to do apart from letting your hands roam all over the expanse of his shoulders and chest.

“and can she do it again all over my cock?” the obscene words sound almost taboo falling from his mouth that your mouth drops open in initial shock, but it subsides into anticipation soon enough.

wordlessly, you take matters into your own hands, fingers making quick work of his trousers while he removes his top impatiently. the scowl on your face is prominent when you struggle to work his belt out and he chuckles with helping hands, the burn on your face deepening.

“there,” gojo giggles and he pulls you in with a peck-filled apology, “don’t worry, we have all the time in the world.”

you hum, “not when your son could knock any time soon.”

that prompts a giggle that fades off into a loud moan once your warm hand wraps around him, something that he’d never tell you how many times he’s fantasised about. slowly, you stroke his cock, excruciatingly slow just like how he’s done to your cunt earlier.

you’re hovering over him, now, dragging his tip along your pussy and whining softly at the pre-cum that mixes together with your juices. you need him into you as soon as possible, and apart from your soon burning thighs, you’ve been wanting this for as long as you’ve stepped foot into his house from the very first day.

inch by inch, you sink down onto gojo’s weeping cock, getting the luxury of feeling his sensitive twitches with the plunge into your cunt. you’re glad at least he had offered to stretch you out just a tad bit earlier, the intrusion of his fingers already having you panting for his dick; and now, when you have the real thing, it drives your mind insane.

“’t-toru— haah . .” your body curls up from the painful stretch, lips muttering the nickname unknowingly as you grasp onto his shoulders for support, and while he helps you on, he never stops saying the most filthy things, grinning each time you clench around him.

“never thought i’d be here, fuckin’ the babysitter, but here we are,” your oh my god is whispered only for the other to hear, body burning up from the words before he grinds his pelvis into yours and you slump forward in pleasure. your words are a bunch of nothingness, a string of incoherence, “and her pussy’s just so fucking— tight!”

giving you one or two breaths of rest, satoru coos in your face, cradling it and littering kisses all over it before he’s moving his hips and you’re breaking the kiss to whine out, moving your hips to meet his as well. you move sooner or later, bouncing on his cock once you’re more used to him in you and the position only hits all your spots just right.

“f-fuck— you’re so big—!” you roll your hips into him, eyes stuck on how there’s just a small bump in your tummy each time you bottom out. your boss from across you is equally ruined, eyes struggling to keep open with wet hair stuck to his forehead. “feel so so g-good . .”

“yeah?” he breathlessly mumbles, hand squeezing and kneading your ass and trying to help you, but the warmth of your cunt around his length just feels too good. “bounce on that dick, baby.”

and you do, planting your feet into the bed and fingers creating bruises along his shoulders as you impale yourself on his fat cock, switching to relaxing in his embrace and letting your hips do the work when your legs start hurting. there, you indulge in gojo’s lips as you hump him, the delicious friction of your clit against his pubes sending you reeling.

“you’re going to be soaking my sheets from how much you’re leaking,” gojo jests, letting your moans take over his mind while his lips trace down your neck, eyes just peeking over to see your ass ripple from the force. “not that i mind. how’s she doin’?”

“she’s getting,” a choked whine interrupts you, “a little tired.”

and that draws a laugh out of gojo who does nothing but tease you, something he likes to do even in makeout sessions, and he doesn’t hesitate to reach over to his bedsie table to grab his phone, leaning back to bask in your glory. here, your body just looks heavenly as you try your best to move on his lap.

“hang on a little more for me, princess,” with one hand, his larger hand leave chills all over your body and the other points his phone at you, not before making sure you were okay with it, “and smile for the camera.”

you try your best even when his hand make his way to your mouth, pulling it open with his fingers to slot it in. you’re sure you look like a whore right now, but the camera pointed your way only turn you on more, like it’s beckoning you to put on a show. and you loved the attention, so you close your lips around his fingers and start sucking, grinding even harsher on his cock that has gojo stuttering.

“y—yeah, attagirl . .” he grins at the video he takes, “show the camera how much of a cockslut you are.”

you whine, bringing the hand to your clit while you shove two hands onto his torso to really work your thighs out, feeling that familiar curl in your stomach once he starts rubbing his saliva-filed fingers along you bundle of nerves.

“r-right there, satoru—!” you swear under your breath, giving hooded eyes to the camera while you chase your high drunkenly, all sort of coherent thought banished from your head. “love your cock, love it, love it—!”

satoru swears he wants to cum from just watching you use him, and even holding himself back is proving difficult when you clamp and tighten around him until his fingers press particularly deep into your clit and you’re cumming with a loud cry of his name, body convulsing all over the video.

“tha’s a good girl . . cream my cock, yeeaaahh . .” gojo watches, hypnotised, as you lose control over your body, but the pleasure-filled whimper that you merge his name with is just too good, that he spills unexpectedly in you. the video is far from stable, so he only slaps the phone down to relish in his orgasm. gojo pushes his hips up and you gasp at the feeling, back arching when you feel his cum seep into you.

you’ve never even given much thought to pregnancy, but the feeling of his cum dribbling into you fogs your mind that you only want more after a mental note to buy the morning after pill tomorrow.

“n-need more,” you beg, fondling at his cheeks and undercut, “w-want more cum in me, satoru . .”

and it’s like a flip switches in him, because he’s flipping you over right after — he has to see his cum leave your pussy first though, taking the still ongoing video and putting it right up to your pussy, using his tip to smear your mixed juices all around.

“who knew i’d hired such a dirty girl?” he addresses the camera more than you, but he catches your flustered glance with a wink and after poorly setting up the camera on his bedside table (he just was too intoxicated on your cunt), he’s pushing back into you with a loud groan, not even caring for the consequences any more. his cum is just so much, too, spilling out the sides.

“only f’r you,” you mumble, grabbing at his forearms needily. your eyes flutter close as he bottoms out, your legs pushed right up to your chest as he folds you whichever way he wants to. at this point, if he wanted to own you, you wouldn’t object one bit, not when gojo satoru’s cock stretches your pretty pussy so nicely. “a cumslut only for you.”

“yeah?” he starts moving his hips and your arch into his hold, “i wonder how i got so — fuck — lucky.” everything is sloppy and wet and disgusting and you love every moment of it, even after he’s cummed in you the second, third, fourth time, you’re happy to be pumped full of his cum, giving him a tired, glistening grin that he returns.

“think i should be transferring over my life savings for a cunt this sweet,” you giggle at the compliment, but don’t protest when he’s pulling up the app to gift you with a hefty amount; both your salary and bonus, all from making gojo satoru fall helplessly just from your touch — something to brag about indeed.

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