#also while this is already very deep and digging into my core the next tags are gonna dig into therapy level deepness lol

[daz4i]

how to stop thinking any good thing someone says to you (like compliments or being proud of you or other positive expressions such as these) is a lie just to be polite or bc they're biased and thus can't judge you work and your being objectively bc they love you. asking for a friend

[spinster-sisters]

Pushover. psh jwy

TW: exhibitionism, fingering, oral female receiving, dirty talk, praise, degradation, grinding, slight bondage, good ole fashion fucking, cock stepping apparently, daddy kink, mutual masturbation, probably other stuff that have escaped my mind cuz writing this felt like a fever dream. So wooyoung is involved pretty heavily involved in this, like many of the kinks listed are done on him and by him so there you have it. Also yeosang is directly involved for like 4 seconds, also please just assume any tags mentioned in the first part that are not listed here may also pop up.

Part 1 (this is a direct continuation of this timestamp)

WC: 5k words of pure smut.

-

You were hardly aware of your surroundings. Nestled into Seonghwa’s lap, your head fell back onto his shoulder and your eyes screwed shut. You could hear the garbled sound of your boyfriend’s voice rumbling next to your ear, but the slim fingers working in and out of your wet hole stopped any thoughts from entering your brain. Your panties had been pushed aside only enough for him to slip two fingers inside you but you were already keening.

Seonghwa knew how to work you, knew how to make you fall apart and he would usually take his time doing it. Normally you had to put in the work for this kind of treatment, you would have to be especially good and listen to him well during the day, a single misstep or disobeyed words would leave you hopeless, but you had gotten very good at behaving. Why would you when he treated you so well? Not to mention that Seonghwa had something to prove today, without an exchange of words you already knew to be on your best behavior today.

“So what do you say, Woo? It’s your call.” Seonghwa spoke with a cool calm tone. His free hand tapped your side and you knew he wanted your attention for the next part, so your head lifted up and you pulled your eyes open to face the room.

Seven pairs of eyes were glued to you and your boyfriend, all in various stages of embarrassment to downright turned on, but the ones that caught your attention were none other than Wooyoung’s. Because it seemed for the first time the man was at a complete loss for words. His mouth was flapping open and closed like a fish out of water but his complexion was suddenly very pink. He was watching with careful eyes the way Seonghwa’s fingers slipped in and out of you, each time pulling more wetness from you, where it pooled on Seonghwa’s pant leg and made his fingers glisten.

“Are you going to answer me? I don’t appreciate being ignored Wooyoung.” Seonghwa’s voice sounded again, this time with a much steelier tone. Snapped out of his reverie Wooyoung’s eyes flung up to your boyfriend's hard gaze and he made a confused noise. Wooyoung’s body twitched at Seonghwa’s disappointed sigh and somewhere in the room, you heard Mingi muttering to Jongho.

“I asked you a question Woo, do you have an answer?”

Wooyoung’s eyes flitted around the room, desperately looking for aid in the faces of his friends, but none came. They seemed perfectly content to watch the loud boy struggle for words. Eventually, he looked to you for help with pleading eyes, you weren’t quite sure what he wanted you to do but before you could even ponder Seonghwa slipped another finger inside you, stretching you open, even more, making your lips fall open with a pleased sigh and your brain clouded over again.

“Don’t look to her for help, she listened well and is getting her reward. You can’t possibly expect her to risk that to help you. Now, I don’t like repeating myself Woo, so I’m only going to do it once. Do you still think I’m too much of a pushover?” Seonghwa spoke with icy venom.

Wooyoung frantically shook his head ‘no.’ You almost felt sorry for the man when your boyfriend's face turned to stone. Wooyoung noticed it too, and in a moment of frantic panic he realized his mistake and pushed out the word “No!” With perhaps a little too much force. Your head turned to look at Seonghwa’s sharp side profile. He looked very pleased with himself. Rightfully so, taking charge was his forte in times like these.

Seonghwa returned your gaze with a smirk. Using his free hand he gently took your chin between his fingers and pulled you in for a deep kiss. The hand working inside you slowed it is ministrations, but you knew better than to voice your disapproval. Seonghwa’s lips effortlessly urged yours to open and his long tongue slipped between them. Seonghwa’s kisses were always so, strong? He put so much force into every press of the lips and every swipe of the tongue head spun with excitement. Your eyes feel shut almost immediately, moving your mouth gently along with your boyfriend.

It seems you got a little too lost in the feeling of the kiss and the gentle push of the hand working inside you because you were slowly becoming more and more vocal with each passing second. What started as soft groans were now developing into full moans that were only slightly muffled by Seonghwa’s lips. But a sudden squeal from across the room drew both of your attention. Seonghwa broke the kiss to peer across the room at none other than Wooyoung, whose pink complexion had turned bright red since you last looked at him. Also notable, was the way he kept clenching his thighs together and making small grinding motions.

He wasn’t completely alone in this, one quick glass around the room showed you that all of your friends seemed to be enjoying the scene before them, many of them sporting hard dicks of their own (San and Hongjoong especially had taken to slowly palming themselves over their jeans) but none seemed to be quite as affected as the boy directly across for you.

“Getting impatient?” Seonghwa asked with disinterest.

“No,” Wooyoung replied, trying to match your boyfriend's tone but failing miserably.

“We’ve barely started and you're already rutting against the floor like a dog, are you sure this isn’t too much for you?” Seonghwa asked in a tone of mock concern. Seonghwa pulled his fingers from you to instead gently circle your clit with care. You. Squirmed again. The truth was you were remarkably close to the cumming. A fact Seonghwa probably knew. You tried to reassure yourself, knowing that in the current circumstances a high reward was coming your way soon, but the sudden emptiness was disappointing none the less and while it showed on your face you dared not make a sound.

“Get on with it then,”

You winced. Knowing the kind of reaction Wooyoung’s words would bring. Seonghwa’s face hardened. Much darker than you had seen in a long time. One quick glance to the side told you that the younger boy's word had left Seonghwa seething. He stayed silent for a moment, but not inactive. His fingers dancing across your folds seemed to gain a sense of purpose, and with sudden and unexpected vigor, Seonghwa worked them in a way that made your legs twitch and your hole clench around nothing.

“Can I, please?” You asked aloud, though it was clear who you were talking to.

“Go ahead little one,” Seonghwa encouraged with a surprisingly gentle tone.

A loud whine came from your open mouth and the room watched with rapt attention as your body came undone. Even Seonghwa pulled eyes dangerous gaze away from Wooyoung who had been gulping with fear, to watch with soft eyes at the way his pretty girl fell apart for him.

It must have been a truly lewd sight. Your body spasming freely as your glistening core twitched, not to mention your chest covered with marks given to you by the very man who caused your pleasure. The helpless cries were only the cherry on top to the room of onlookers, Yunho had even let out a low groan of his own. But the man of the hour, as it seemed, Wooyoung had returned to his stunned silence, watching the way Seonghwa continued to toy with your clit, prolonging your orgasm as much as possible for the room to enjoy.

Seonghwa turned back to Wooyoung and stopped his work on you only after the majority of your orgasm had passed, leaving you breathless and panting. You felt Seonghwa’s hard cock digging into your ass, but Seonghwa had other matters to attend to first. He fixed Wooyoung with a hard gaze and gave a simple command.

“Come here,”

Wooyoung froze at his words, unable to look away. Yeosang, who had been enjoying Wooyoung’s torment far more than the others urged his forward with a small push on the shoulder, which snapped him out of his trance, and after a moment he slowly crawled across the floor to sit on the floor before you.

Everyone in the room seemed shocked by this turn of events, yourself included, but one quick look from Seonghwa’s encouraging smile settled your nerves. Besides, your brain way still basking in the aftermath of your orgasm so this all seemed much more exciting than you would admit out loud.

With a pinch on your outer thigh from Seonghwa your legs instinctively opened wider, giving Wooyoung an eye full of your now slightly swollen core. Seonghwa reached between your legs and spread your pussy open, exposing your still pulsing hole to the man on the floor, and with one simple sentence, changed the tone of the night for good.

“Get on with it then,”

“What?” Wooyoung sputtered helplessly, looking up to your boyfriend with wide eyes.

“Your attitude has done nothing but remind me how wonderfully obedient my pretty girl is,” as Seonghwa spoke you subconsciously cuddled further into his chest, his eyes flicked to you and he gave you a reassuring squeeze on your neck with his free hand, “and I think she should be rewarded before I deal with that mouth of yours.”

Wooyoung’s eyes shown with realization as it finally dawned on him exactly what his teasing had gotten him into. His eyes flicked around to the faces of his friends only to see them waiting expectantly for Wooyoung to do as he was told. He looked back to Seonghwa and opened his mouth, to apologize, to beg, to l say anything at all, but no words came out. Seonghwa frowned at him.

“Don’t you think she’s been good?” Your boyfriend asked accusatorily.

“Yes, she has-“ Wooyoung started.

Seonghwa’s finger slipped down to drag through your folds and collect the wetness gathering there. You were still incredibly sensitive from your orgasm and the movement made you shudder a gasp. Wooyoung’s eyes followed the action with a downright hungry gaze but something was still restraining him from acting. Seonghwa held out his wet finger in front of the boy's face, and Wooyoung couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight.

“I’m not going to say it again. Get. On. With. It.”

It seemed whatever defiant streak had been holding the boy back had finally broken. Wooyoung’s head snapped forward and took the Seonghwa’s long shining finger into his mouth and sucked it clean. A loud whinny groan came from the boy instantaneously and after a moment his lips pulled away with a loud pop. With his new resolve Wooyoung’s eyes zeroed in on your face blushing face and with an incredibly what look his eyes snapped back down and he dove in.

An unapologetic scream ripped from your open mouth. The first sensation you felt was pain, you have only fully come down from your high a minute or so prior and your clit was still incredibly sensitive as Wooyoung attached his lips to your cunt and rolled his tongue over the bud repeatedly. But the longer he kept at it, sliding his tongue over the length of your core in a wide lick, the more the full pain turned into biting pleasure.

“You look so pretty like this baby,” Seonghwa muttered encouragingly in your ear, but still loud enough for the room to hear over the obscene slurping noises Wooyoung was now making as he sucked at your entrance. “Doesn't that feel nice?”

Depends on how you define nice really, it felt like all too much all at once, it hurt yes, but every swipe of the younger boy's tongue brought more wetness out of you and made your body twitch and writhe with the slightest movement. Honestly, you should have been used to this by now. Seonghwa loved to do this to you, overstimulate you for hours till there were tears in your eyes and you had lost control of your limbs, he thought you looked best when completely at his mercy. But this was only your first orgasm, you had been trained well enough to keep some of your composure despite the abuse your aching core was suffering at Wooyoung’s hand. You turned to Seonghwa’s satisfied face, and gave him a weak smile,

“Feels good, Daddy.”

Somewhere in the room someone let out an “oh fuck,” and Wooyoung groaned particularly loud directly into your pussy and the vibrations traveled up your spine like lightning. Your mouth fell open as you looked into Seonghwa’s eyes with a dazed look. Your hips arched off your boyfriend's lap. It was Wooyoung who made the first move to push your hips back, eager to have his mouth back on you, but he had no sooner touched you than Seonghwa slapped his hand away from your body.

Wooyoung pulled away from your core, his chin dripping with your juices and his eyes shining with confusion. Seonghwa took your hips into both of his hands and pulled you back, flush against his lap and still hard cock, he then fixed Wooyoung with a glare.

“Your not here to touch. Make my baby girl cum in the next five minutes and I might just go easier on you.” Seonghwa spat.

Wooyoung blinked at him, before giving him the sweetest smile he could muster.

“Yes, Daddy”

This took you and the rest of the room by surprise. But you didn’t have time to ponder before Seonghwa took the boy by the roots of his hair and pulled his face forward into your swollen cunt.

“Times ticking, little boy, better get a move on.”

And so he did. Wooyoung ate you out with a burning passion you had never quite experienced. Seonghwa preferred to take hours going down on you, purposely going a slow and steady as possible to build up extremely powerful orgasms that would last for minutes. This was entirely different. Wooyoung was being incredibly messy. Wet sounds echoed around the room and into your ears, he seemed to be trying to eat you alive with the way his mouth moved desperately around your folds. His tongue had made its return to your clit. He sucked the bud between his lips and rolled it around with his tongue in such quick tight little circles your brain spun and if it weren’t for the iron grip one of your boyfriend's hand still had on your hip your sure you would flailing around like a madwoman. You certainly sounded like one with the way endless cries, whines, and groan spilled from your lips in increasing volume. Wooyoung had a clear goal, Seonghwa had given him five minutes? He would do it in three.

You were nearing the end of your rope, your entire lower half seemed to be vibrating with numb pain and pleasure it was almost unbearable but somehow nowhere near enough.

“Daddy? Can I cum please?” You spoke in a shattered voice. Seonghwa, who still had his hand twisted in Wooyoung’s hair looked down expectantly at the boy, who was already peering up at your face with wide eyes. Both you and your boyfriend watched as Wooyoung slid his tongue into your hole and began fucking it in and out of you in time with your breathy gasps. Your head flipped frantically to search your boyfriend's eyes, begging for permission.

“Please, please, Daddy, I can’t hold-“

“You can cum baby,”

And that was all it took. You practically screamed. Your eyes went white as your head fell back again. Having lost all control of the movement of your limbs Seonghwa took his hand from Wooyoung’s head and used both to hold your spasming body close against his. Your brain had gone fuzzy and the only two things registering in your brain were the gentle praise being whispered into your ear and the beat of Seonghwa’s heart against your back from how closely he held you.

Your recovery to much longer this time. To be perfectly honest, in your whacked-out brain it could have been hours.

Slowly you came back to reality. When you opened your eyes the first thing you saw was Yunho from across the room, he gave you a reassuring smile but it was offset slightly by the way his hand was down his pants, nevertheless you smiled back. You laid limp and spent across Seonghwa’s lap. His arm had come around your waist to hold you up and his other hand was rubbing soft circles on your inner thigh. He gave a gentle kiss to your temple as you stirred, leaving butterflies in your stomach. Shifting slightly so you sat sideways on his lap you curled yourself into him with an affectionate purr.

And then there way Wooyoung. He sat on his knees with his hands on his thighs looking up at you like he won a prize.

“You taste good,” he said with an almost happy hour lucky smile.

“Did you like it, Woo?” San asked from behind him, San was sporting his own wide eyes and looking overly jealous about the whole thing.

Wooyoung spun around to look at his best friend and spoke enthusiastically,

“She tastes so good Sannie, really, it was so much fun!”

“Don’t get too excited Woo, we’re not done yet.” Seonghwa chided. Wooyoung whirled around to face him.

“Didn’t I do good?” He asked with a confused look.

You nodded absently as Seonghwa spoke.

“Yea you did good, but that doesn’t excuse your attitude earlier. You still need to learn some respect. I’m sure our friends would agree all this attention you’ve been getting has gone to your head.”

Yeosang and Jongho snickered in agreement. Wooyoung turned to shoot them a glare but it was cut short by a strangled moan. Seonghwa had pressed the heel of his shoe onto the swollen tip of Wooyoung’s cock through his jeans. And to your surprise, Wooyoung’s hips bucked up into the sole of his shoe. Your brain short-circuited.

Wooyoung started to move away but Seonghwa took hold of his hair again and kept him in place.

“What’s the matter woo? Embarrassed? Embarrassed you almost got yourself off on Daddy’s shoe?”

Wooyoung shook his head no, but Seonghwa only dug his heel in harder and Wooyoung couldn’t help but buck against his shoe again with a pained moan. Your legs were clenching together as another pool of arousal pooled between them. Here’s the deal, you had always admired Seonghwa’s incredible level-headedness. In fact, it was one of the best qualities you could ask for in a lover. But for months now, you had been hoping for the chance that Seonghwa would show his true colors to the rest of the group. The idea had been a fantasy of yours for such a long time, but seeing it, here and now, and like this? Not to mention you had always wondered just how far Seonghwa would go if someone disobeyed him, perhaps you didn’t have the guts to do it yourself, especially since being good reaped such high reward, but this was far more than you ever imagined. You doubt whether you had ever been this turned on in your life.

Seonghwa noticed your reaction, of course, he could always read you like a book. He glanced around the room to the hungry faces of your friends till he found who he was looking for and locked eyes with them with a smirk.

“Yeosang, think you could help me for a moment?”

Yeosang returned the smirk and the room watched with bated breath as he made his way over to the scene, eyes zeroed in on Wooyoung’s mortified face.

“Who knew Wooyoung was such a pain slut.”

Yeosang’s voice was as cool as a cucumber, and if it wasn’t for the bulge in his pants you would think he was talking about the weather. Seonghwa dug his heel into Woo one last time before spinning the boy around to face Yeosang by yanking the hair in his grip. Wooyoung was whining pathetically at it all. Your hand was placed on Seonghwa’s hard chest. He glanced at you with a promising smile at your desperate face.

“Not had your fill yet, little one?” He asked you with a smirk. You shook your head ‘no.’

“No Daddy, you make me so needy.” You reply with wide eyes and a slight whine, grasping the fabric of his shirt in a tight fist. He grinned at you before turning to Yeosang again.

“I think it’s finally time to fuck my baby girl, but I don’t think Wooyoung has learned his lesson yet,” as he spoke Seonghwa began fiddling with his belt, pulling through the loops of his jeans. Handing the belt to Yeosang he continued, “Do me a favor, tie him up, make him desperate, don’t stop till he begs.”

Yeosang accepted the challenge with a smile. Seonghwa’s attention was finally on you and you alone. With his help as your body was still weak, he adjusted you to straddle his hips facing him. You looked a mess surely, there was no way you looked anything but obscene and sweaty, But Seonghwa took in your face with a smile.

“You look so pretty like this baby girl” As he spoke, Seonghwa’s hand came to your ass and kneaded it in his palms. The room could no longer see your face, but they could most definitely see this, and likely your still leaking cunt.

Directly behind you, you could hear rummaging noises and the distinct clink of a belt being done up. A quick glance over your shoulder showed you that Wooyoung was now facing the room, with his hands bound behind his back and a pillow between his legs, Yeosang sat to his side clearly satisfied with his work. After taking it in you turned back to Seonghwa who looked pleased himself.

“You’ve been so good baby, want Daddy to fuck you? Nice and deep how you like it?” You practically purred at his words. It’s true so far you had enjoyed yourself, but there was nothing quite like when Seonghwa filled you up with his cock.

“Please fuck me Daddy” you whispered, leaning in close to him with your biggest doll eyes, and your hands gripping his shoulder. Seonghwa smiled at you, content with your answer.

A moment later he had freed his duck from his jeans and was stroking it leisurely. Your mouth watered. Oh, the way he could make you feel, how many times he had made you cum. As Seonghwa sunk into the couch, taking a moment to watch you squirm on his lap he truly looked too powerful. The calm in the sea of chaos that had unfolded that night, it was unfair how he made your heart skip a beat. With one quick glance over your shoulder, he called out to Wooyoung one last time.

“I’d start doing as you were told Wooyoung, wouldn’t want the others to get impatient with you,”

At that, you heard the first grunt of Wooyoung grinding helplessly on the pillow, then whimpering at how the surface was too soft to gain any friction over his pants. The poor boy was at his wit's end.

But your attention was drawn back to the man in front of you before you had time to feel sorry for Wooyoung. One of his fingers had slipped inside you once again to test the waters. You flinched at the intrusion, your body was utterly spent, and the overstimulation would be hell, but as God, as your witness, you were going to take your boyfriend's cock tonight.

“Are you sure your ok baby? Wouldn’t want to push you too far after the night you’ve had.” He spoke with mild concern, but he already knew the answer.

“No! I want to! I can take it!” You spoke with urgency.

“Absolutely sure sweetpea?” He asked one last time. Your hand gripping his shirt twisted and shook. You looked at him with the most pleading look you could muster.

“Please fuck me, Daddy.”

“Ok then,” he replied with a smile. Not once today had you forgotten your manners or rules, after dealing with the whimpering boy behind you for an evening he was glad to have his perfect baby girl still being as good as ever.

Seonghwa hoisted your hips to be level with his. Seonghwa had a thing about eye contact while he fucked you, so you did your best to not break it as the tip of his cock teased your entrance.

To be completely honest, but the focus of the rest of the room seemed to now be on Wooyoung, who was still rutting against the pillow like a dog, and they all seemed to be enjoying the show far too much to notice the tender way Seonghwa pulled your body down flush against his hips and down onto his cock. Although the broken whipper that came from you at the feeling overwhelming sensation did turn a few heads.

Your knees were shaking and your hands trembling. You had been right, the overstimulation was making it too hard to move on your own. But Seonghwa was attentive as always. He wrapped an arm around your waist and used it to slowly work you up and down on his cock. Each thrust he made felt like pins and needles in the best way possible. After Seonghwa had worked up a steady rhythm a numbing pleasure had already begun to build. Looking deep into your boyfriend's eyes you placed and hand on your tummy and after moving it around for a bit you could feel him moving inside you. You groaned out, this position had always been the best for deep penetration anyways.

“Daddy I can feel you inside me,” you whipper as he picks up speed. The room was beginning to sound like a symphony of lewd cries and squelching noises coming from both you and Wooyoung. Not to mention the panting and groaning coming from the others in the room, who had lost any semblance of shame and were jerking off freely to the unexpected yet beautiful sight. The other boy's eyes kept flicking back and forth, unable to decide which one was more arousing to watch. Many of them had already gotten themselves off before now and were now sporting half-hard cocks as they were faced with the delightful scene.

“I know baby girl, I know how much you love to be stuffed full of cock. And now everyone else knows too.” Seonghwa replied clearly satisfied with himself. His hand came up to your jaw and he delivered a particularly hard thrust and pulled your hips down to match it. You were already losing focus of the world around you and the pleasure was mounting rapidly. At the force of the thrust, your eyes almost dropped closed but Seonghwa pulled your head forward and they opened a bit wider.

“Now everyone knows how good you are for me, baby. My good little girl, who loves taking my cock.” Seonghwa was speaking in such a low grumbling voice it was almost like he was talking to himself rather than you like he was reminding himself of what he had accomplished today. You could tell that after waiting all night for stimulation he was also getting close to his own edge, and if you listen to the whiny panting of the boy behind you you could tell he was getting desperate for the release that would never come from the pillow.

You almost lost eye contact again when Seonghwa’s thrusts became sloppy. Increased pace but with less consistency was the tell-tale sign that Seonghwa was going to cum, but luckily for him, it was this exact treatment that made your head spin. Your lower half was numb with biting pleasure and it was all you could do to keep your eyes open to watch the sweat dripping down Seonghwa’s forehead as he carried on with determination. The others had caught on to what was about to happen and many were now speeding up their ministrations to themselves to climax at the same time as you and your boyfriend.

Seonghwa’s hand wound its way into your hair and used it to crash your lips onto his is a heated, wet, and messy kiss. Any second now and you would lose yourself to the pleasure. You detached your lips just enough to pant into Seonghwa’s lips,

“Daddy, in cumming”

“Damn right you are,” he moaned in response.

It was wise of him to reattach your lips before you came undone. Even with him muffling your noises there was no way the sounds you made didn’t echo around the room and ring In everyone’s ears. Seonghwa kept his pace, pushing more and more whinnies out of you till you almost jumped away from him in overstimulation, butter grip on your waist didn’t let you get far. There were tears in your eyes by the time Seonghwa finally came. Your orgasm had turned silent almost immediately after and your mouth hung wide open in an empty moan. Your brain had all but shut off when the feeling of your boyfriend's cum spilling into you registered into your brain.

Saying you blacked out would be a strong word. But when your eyes fell closed they didn’t seem to want to open. You and Seonghwa stayed connected for what seemed like an eternity before he pulled out of you with a groan and laid you gently down onto the couch to his side.

You were dead weight at this point. But when you felt Seonghwa stand up you pried your eyes open the slightest bit once you realized that the unmistakable noises of a begging Wooyoung had filled your ears.

Seonghwa walked around to stand in front of him. Most of the others in the room were now basking in the afterglow of their own orgasms but had perked up to watch.

“Please, please, please, Daddy. Please let me cum. I promise I’ll be good, I promise I won’t bother you as much, I promise, please-“

Wooyoung ramblings we’re cut short by Seonghwa taking hold of Wooyoung’s head and turning it up to look him in the eyes.

“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear,” Seonghwa replied. Wooyoung gasped a sigh of relief. Seonghwa motioned for Yeosang to come over and untie the poor boy and hopefully get him some relief. But Seonghwa didn’t care about that part, his eyes were now back on you. His sweet perfect, obedient little girl.

-

Tag List: @deja-vux @txtbbys @darlingmulti @emotionally-intellectual @mingishoe @eonghwa @galaxteez

@a-soft-hornytiny @yunhospuppy @barnesbabee @woowommy @hyetiny @multidreams-and-desires @spacepiratehongjoong @pikacuuuuuuu

if your wondering why your tagged, its either because you expressed interest in a part two or are otherwise a homie or I would like you to be a homie and this is my olive branch

[creativeashproductions]

What If...? II // Alive!Luke Patterson

Summary: After playing The Orpheum things were looking up, Sunset Curve bought the house that owned the studio the band used. Alex lived in a safe environment will only love, Reggie didn’t feel like a ghost in his house and Luke was no longer sleeping on a couch. Life is good until it isn’t.

Warnings: Swearing, accident, injuries, angst, car accident (this was written before If I Stay)

Words: 2.7k

Requested: By @beautifulblogsblog . There will be more parts, total coincidence that it has a car accident. Also appears when I try solely fluff it turns into painful angst. My apologies, the next part will be better but also prepare for it too.

A/N: Sorry for disappearing. I have Lost Time Part 2 finished, If I Stay Part 2 is also finished but I really want to put a new part out for What If...? so here you go!

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

Hollywood, 1996

A hot cup of your morning brew cradled in your hand you stared out the window to the garage where Sunset Curve had practiced for years. A year had passed since The Orpheum; the band got signed to a label with an EP being dropped. The moment money came to the band Luke, Alex and Reggie had pooled money to buy the house the garage belonged to. You just happened to be over a lot still being seventeen.

“Hey,” Luke spoke, wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing his body tight against yours. His chin resting on your shoulder as his hand swiped the mug to take a swig from it.

“Hey!”

“Don’t sound so offended.” Luke chuckled, “I’ve tasted other things that belong to you.”

“Disgusting.” Alex gagged walking by the couple with distaste written clearly all over his face. He adored you two together, but he didn’t like the activities that you frequently did behind closed doors.

“Yeah, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t play wrestle in the middle of the night.” Reggie scoffed heading up the stairs to his room while Alex blinked after him.

“I- and he wonders why he’s still single.” Alex sighed, heading to the living room to watch a film whereas Bobby was grabbing a quick drink before leaving. The only member of the band that didn’t live in the house but then again, he didn’t have issues with his parents; well if he did, he never told anyone else.

A snicker fell from your lips as a deep chuckled vibrated through the body courtesy of Luke’s close quarters with you. His arms tightened when you shifted in his arms, glancing at his watch before you pushed the mug back into his hand.

“Gotta go.” You sighed, pressing a kiss to Luke’s cheek and freeing yourself from his warm embrace to nab the bag from the chair. Luke released a whine detesting the emptiness in his arms, “As much as I would have to stay and cuddle all day, I have plans.”

Luke released a long sigh with a nod glancing as Bobby’s gaze fixated your form heading for the front door. He snapped out of it when Luke hit his chest.

“C’mon man! That’s my girl.” Luke scoffed, making his way for the stairs, “Go, home, dude.”

Bobby did as he was told glancing up at the ceiling where each boy would be in their bedrooms until practice later that night. Bobby couldn’t help that he found you attractive, but he would never step over the line with his bandmate. You were already gone when Bobby got outside and the harsh glare on the back of his head from Luke.

Lance had picked up his daughter itching to play you the bones of the new song he had recorded with the band. It was by far his favourite one given that it was centered on you growing up which he both hated and loved. He had missed more of your life than he cared to admit so it is the last year before you would leave the house, he had taken a break from touring.

“It’s not fully finished. The working title is Bittersweet.” Your father spoke glancing over, “It’s slower than our usual song, but I have ideas.”

“What was the inspiration?” You questioned leaning your head back to glance over at him. A small smile tugged at the rock star in the driver’s seat.

“Almost twenty-years ago a struggling musician snuck into a concert he couldn’t afford. A struck of luck had a pretty ballet dancer attending too. It was an odd love story, and that musician had a double miracle. Eighteen years ago, he met the second love of his life.” Lance had a way with words that entranced anyone, whether it be musically or not.

“That musician was you.” You took a guess that ended up being right when Lance nodded, “Dad.”

“I was hoping you would harmonize on it with me? My sound guy is incorporating your voice as a baby, and in the ending, I want you to say something.”

A bright smile turned the corners of your mouth up while silent tears rolled down your cheeks at the idea he had. At that moment, you also decided to keep the collaboration and song a secret from your boyfriend and friends.

“I’d love to.” You spoke swiftly hugging his arm before he was shoving you back to your seat and his arm slung in front of you.

A blindly light made its presence known for a second before a loud crack shattered around you and your body was slammed the dash—a scream coming from your father before everything went quiet. You prone form slumped onto the crushed door unaware of the cries taking place outside the car.

Lance moaned fluttering his eyelids as consciousness brought him into the world again. His brain struggling to make sense of why the car was on its side. It connected when his first thought was his daughter.

“Sweetheart.” Lance’s tongue caught the copper taste in his mouth, but it was the petrifying taste fear that lingered as he received no response.

Straining his neck, he could see now you were laying against the crushed passenger door of the car; the car on its side with Lance strapped to the seat. A sharp cry released as he caught the blood coating the profile of his little girl. A haunting sound of Bittersweet filled the car among Lance’s sobs.

In the home of Sunset Curve, it was notoriously known that the only channel on TV was MTV, never the news. As usual, the guys were fighting over what kind of pizzas, they should order unaware of the countless news reports on a car crash. It wouldn’t be under hours later that they found out.

“Guys!” Alex’s head snapped up as Bobby struggled to breathe in the entrance of the kitchen, leaving the front door wide open.

“Mushrooms Bobby?” Reggie inquired oblivious to the tension radiating off the rhythm guitarist. Bobby had enough sweat it was like they had just finished a fifteen song setlist under boiling lights.

“Have you guys seen MTV?” Bobby demanded gaining the attention of his three bandmates as looking lost at the uncharacteristic anxious boy.

“Is our song playing?” Luke spoke, leaning over the island with a grin. His messy hair almost covering his hazel eyes.

Bobby didn’t reply other than to rush over to the tv to get to MTV. Instead of music blasting the house, a somber person was sitting on a chair.

“The musical world is struggling as the world waits for news on musician Lancaster Jameson following a car accident early this afternoon. Little news has been released on the circumstances leading to the crash on the occupants with both vehicles.” The man spoke sitting on a stool behind a makeshift desk.

Luke’s heart dropped at the words that rocked him to the core. His body working on autopilot was already moving to the door, he needed to be there for you. You must be terrified for your father. Luke had to be there for you. He just didn’t know you were in the car as well.

“An emergency response official revealed, however, that as they used the jaws of life, a song was still playing. A song very unlike anything Lancaster’s band has released before.”

A taxi, courtesy of Alex, pulled up beside the lead singer with his friend helping him into the backseat before joining him as well. Little did they know about the scene at the hospital.

Your mother, Nancy, sat silently ripping apart a Kleenex a nurse had graciously given the woman as she waited with bated breath. Her pallor pale and gaunt under the harsh hospital lights where she waited to hear the news for her family. Her tears began to fall as Luke, and his bandmate appeared in the ER.

“Mrs. Y/L/N.” Alex spoke, heading straight for the woman pushing the fears and anxious feelings to be dealt with at another time.

The woman couldn’t look Luke in the eye, knowing that the media had been issued legal documents to ensure you were kept out of the news. The lawyers had swiftly jumped on that part of the accident while your mother worried herself with the what-ifs swirling in her head.

“Luke.” She breathed, leaning to pull the teenager into a hug, “I’m sorry I couldn’t call.”

“I understand. You need to focus on Lance.” Luke supplied, stepping back to look around the room for you. His brows furrowed at the lack of evidence you were there, “Where’s Y/N?”

Nancy’s eyes watered further at the mention of her daughter still in surgery looking over to Alex, who collapsed into the chair understanding the look. Luke didn’t see it.

“I suppose the lawyers did an excellent job.” Nancy sighed, digging deep inside herself to lead the teenage boy to the chairs be had settled into, “I’m very sorry, Luke. Our lawyers reacted to the accident, but Lance’s name was already released. He wasn’t alone.”

“Y/N-“

“She’s in surgery right now.” Nancy’s voice broke slumping into the chair, returning to shredding the Kleenex in her hand. Alex was stock still in his chair, “I’ve been told she was lucky. There hasn’t been news on Lance yet.”

“Oh my god.” Luke breathed, staring at the scuffed shoes he had had for years by now with a little doodle you had done one night. The world faded as Luke went over a single moment, he had shared with you, and something burned; something he had carried for months now felt heavier than ever before.

Hours went by for Luke, Alex and your mother slowly the ER waiting room grew to have Reggie for support. He was the most serious he had been in his entire life; he had contacted the Patterson family but pleaded they wait for news at home. Reggie knew Luke wouldn’t be able to deal with his unresolved issues with his parents and the grief.

“Mrs. Y/L/N.” A doctor wearing scrubs called outgaining the attention of Nancy who rushed up to the older doctor, “Please follow me.”

Nancy wavered in her steps as the doctor brought the middle-aged woman to a quiet room where the sound of a heart monitor beeped. Nancy was quick to rush over to the body, resting still out from the medication.

“Y/N.” Your mother breathed collapsing into a chair where she grasped your hand tightly. Her eyes took in the superficial cuts on your face and the brace on your wrist.

“She’s miraculously lucky for the severe car accident, she has a minor concussion along with a broken wrist. We had to remove her appendix or spleen, but she’ll be fine. The seat belt, however, snapped upon impact.” The doctor spoke facing the sobbing woman with pity in his eyes, “By the bruise across her chest we can see that your husband protected her, the media calls with ‘being soccer mom’d’ or my daughter does. Had he not done that the injuries would have been too severe to survive or she would have been in a vegetative state for the rest of her life.”

“Lance. Is he okay?”

“We need to talk about that. If you could follow me, we’ll let your daughter rest.”

Sunset Curve came to an early hiatus in their music career as Luke refused to leave your room from the moment he was allowed. When visitor hours were up, you could find him in his car struggling from sneaking into your room, but the warning of charges from the guard kept him in his place. For the first time in his life, Luke had no urge to put pen to paper or strum a single tune on his guitar.

He would stay silent in the chair beside your bed, holding tight to your hand in despair and guilt. He would, of course, visit Lance when your mother came to see you, they traded off not wanting either one to be alone.

A moan from the bed brought the attention of Luke and Alex, who had visited today to convince his best friend to come home for a shower.

“Baby?” Luke lunged closer as your eye fluttered open scanning the room with bleary eyes and sadness, “Hey.”

“Why are you holding my hand?” You questioned glancing at the hand intertwined with yours. Luke’s face dropped stumbling back at the look you cast him.

 “You don’t-“

“I woke up from an accident, and you can’t hug me?” You finished staring at the boy down, unaware the delivery of the question could very well be better than it was. Luke heaved a sigh gently, pulling you into a hug.

“That was cruel. I thought you didn’t remember me.”

“Luke forgetting you is like forgetting what the moon is.” You spoke wincing as you leaned back, “What’s the damage?”

Luke’s eyes glared at the nonchalant behaviour you displayed. At the same time, he was an utter mess from a week of sleeplessness and crippling fear. Alex’s deep sigh as he pushed down on Luke’s shoulders to place him back in the chair.

“The damage is you’ve been unconscious for a week with a minor concussion, a broken wrist, a bruised knee that was recently diagnosed, you are one spleen less, and you won’t have to worry about getting appendicitis. You will be incredibly sore from the bruises as well.” Alex supplied leaning to gently hug your form for even if you were dating his ex you had quickly grown to be a surrogate little sister.

“Oh.” You blinked, turning to stare at the wall, “What about my Dad?”

“He’s fine. He’s been struggling with orderlies every day to escape to check on you.” Luke spoke, “Your mom and I have had to do shifts between rooms during visitation hours. Security wasn’t happy to find me in here after hours.”

“Good.” You nodded leaning back in the bed staring up at the ceiling muttering a reply when Alex murmured, he would head to tell your parents you were awake.

Luke once had romantic plans before the accident, but when he found out about your accident, everything hit him. What-ifs of never living his dreams with you, of the things he might never get to do.

“Your hand better heal fast so that brace can come off.” Luke spoke, keeping his gaze on your face entirely in love with you. Your look of confusion amusing him, “Well how will the ring fit?”

“Ring?” You questioned becoming owl-eyed when Luke pulled out a stunning ring from his pocket, “Oh my god.”

“You tend to change my plans with everything you do. I was going to have this big speech and a romantic dinner, but I can’t wait.” Luke spoke, leaning to wipe away a tear from your eye, “I never want to be that scared again so until I can blow your socks off with a better proposal will you marry me?”

Your hand cupped the smooth cheek of the boy you loved more than words could ever say, “No.”

Luke’s heart broke at the words he never anticipated to hear, “What?”

“I say this because I love you, but I don’t want to go into an engagement with bad blood between you and your parents. You’ve shown them that your dream was worth it, but now you have to reach out. I want only happiness when we get engaged.”

Luke nodded his head, putting the ring back in his pocket, disappointed in the response, but what could he do? You gave a reason, and while definitely annoyed him he couldn’t fault your compassionate nature. For once in your entire relationship, the silence was awkward.

“So…” You trailed off, avoiding looking at Luke, “Have you decided on a tracklist for the album?”

“Huh? Oh, no.” Luke shook his head only to be relieved when your parents came into the room. Nancy was already crying as she collapsed into the chair.

“Oh baby.” Nancy spoke, pressing a kiss to the bruised forehead you currently rocked. Lance scowled as he was rolled closer to the bed by the orderly.

“I’m fine.” You grumbled as your mom scanned every part of you, “Seriously!”

“I almost lost my baby.” Your mom snapped before apologizing at raising her tone, “Let me coddle you.”

You resigned yourself, but there was a sadness inside as Luke shared a goodbye before leaving you alone with your parents. You really wished you hadn’t been wrong in your decision.

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[yee-fxcking-haw]

Do Your Worst

A/N: This is literally 8,640 words of self indulgent smut. Just want the Winter Soldier to beat the shit outta me, ya know? As far as tagging I just tagged whoever liked the post I made about finishing this chapter, if I missed you or you want added/removed just let me know!❤️

Warnings: Violence, bloodplay if you squint, knifeplay if you squint, choking, hitting, degredation, rough sex, violent sex, name calling, I think that's all of them??

Summary: Your purpose is to fight, to be used as a weapon. During a training session at the Red Room facility, you come face to face with the ominous man they call "The Weapon." Unexpected tension is developed during your match, that is later unleashed when you learn what the Winter Soldier's true mission is... To train you to be a weapon just like him.

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  You kneel on all fours, your own blood and sweat dripping onto the floor in front of you. You don't even know where all the blood is coming from at this point. This fight has been going on for who knows how long. Your muscles scream and you feel your bones are begging you to surrender. You take in a deep shuddering breath when you see your opponent's large black boots shuffle out of your peripheral vision. You jump to your feet with all the coordination of a drunken grizzly. You glance quickly at the other girls watching your match, all of their faces blank while they observe you getting your ass handed to you. They sit in a sea of grey uniforms, everyone's hair all braided back the same way. The room you're in is set up like a small gymnasium, seats set up in rows on the sides with a large sparring area in the center. The design makes it easy for everyone in the room to see every detail of your pathetic attempt to fight off your enemy.

  This is your first fight with the man they call "The Weapon" and he's kicking your ass. In your many years at the Red Room training facility, you've fought plenty of men and women here, beating most of them rather quickly. You were sent here very young after your incredible ability to heal rapidly was discovered. Basically, you're really good at taking a beating, making you nearly impossible to best in combat. You don't remember your life before your time here, not even your own parents. Your purpose is to fight, so that's all you remember doing. That's what brings you here, fighting the Winter Soldier.

 You look back to him to see he's already coming at you again. A blur of black and silver, the only distinguishable feature are his furious blue eyes that peak out above a black mouth covering. You scan his body, looking for any sign of weakness, willing there to be one with every cell in your body. His stance is too wide, he's stalking towards you now as if he's almost frustrated. Your body reacts to the opening before your mind tells it to. Once he's about two feet from you, you launch forward into a somersault. Your torso lands between his legs, you quickly let your legs fly up, hooking the backs of your knees around the tops of his thighs. Using every ounce of strength you have left you push your torso off the ground to bring him slamming down with a thunderous thump.

  You press your hips into his, then you throw your torso forward so you can straddle him. His left hand comes up to grasp your throat and your chest seizes up with fear. Your hands fly to his wrist, gripping the cold metal as if it will somehow get him to release. This is why they call him "The Weapon". His left arm is made entirely of metal, built exactly like a regular human arm, but it possesses superhuman strength and dexterity. The metal plates pinch the skin of your throat, causing you to panic slightly. No, you can't fucking panic, that's what they're watching for.

  Your right hand flies to your thigh, quickly unclipping your knife from it's holster. He's too focused on squeezing the life out of you to notice your actions. Just as you start to see white stars dance in your vision you bring the knife to his throat. His grip on you loosens slightly, anger dancing in his piercing eyes. You see his right hand move to grab the knife, but you bring your foot up to trap his wrist under your boot, thankful for your flexibility. You press the blade against his throat.

  "Yield." You choke out.

  His eyes go wild, pieces of unkempt brown hair falling over his forehead and shoulders, adding to his feral appearance. His metal hand tightens around your throat again, he's challenging you. You sneer at him then apply more pressure with your knife, seeing his skin split slightly, a small trickle of blood seeps out onto your blade. Unfortunately, he seems completely unbothered by the action. There's no victory from this position, you have to find another way. You hike your right foot up then plant it on his chest, earning a deep grunt from him. You throw your body over his, freeing yourself from his grip, keeping your knife on his throat the whole time.

  You quickly throw your legs over his shoulders so you can straddle his chest this time, your feet hook into his armpits as your knees cage his head. You flip your knife in your hand to bring the point down against his jugular. His hands fly to your thighs as you use them to grip the sides of his throat. His fingers dig into your skin, the pain of his fingertips bruising you only fuels you now. You feel his flesh hand leave your thigh, you read him like a book and beat him to his next move. Your free hand flies back and rips his own knife away from it's home on his thigh. You bring the knife up and throw it into the wall across from you, it sinks into the wood with a satisfying sound.

  With a roar he uses his metal arm to push off the mat, flipping you both over so your back is pressed against the ground. He has your right leg hooked over his shoulder, metal hand around your throat again. You have somehow managed to keep your knife against his throat, holding onto it like it's your lifeline. You try to move your left leg to kick, then realize he's got you pinned. His hips are pressing harshly between your legs, in another context the position would look positively erotic. You hate yourself for the way the heat spreads through your body when he presses into you further. He only makes it worse by bringing his right arm up to yank your braids from the roots. You let out a cry, cursing yourself for how wantan the noise sounds. You look into his eyes, letting your knife push into his throat further.

  You're both trembling with rage, furious with each other for not yielding. There's blood slowly pulsing out of his throat while your vision goes blurry, but neither of you are willing to admit defeat. A drop of blood falls from the handle of your knife to land on your lips. His eyes snap to your mouth, suddenly transfixed. That's it. That's the weakness you've been waiting for. You lick your lips slowly, welcoming the metallic taste. His eyebrows pinch together and he lets out a trembling breath, his eyes snap back to yours then and you feel something pulse against your center.

  "Horny bastard." You whisper, so quiet only he can hear it.

  His eyebrows furrow and his eyes light up with blind rage. His metal hand squeezes around your throat with malice, causing you to gasp and sputter. This is your window, don't fuck it up. His torso presses against the leg he has hooked on his shoulder, bringing the top of your thigh flush against your chest.

  Perfect.

  You bring your other leg up, plant your foot on the ground and kick off. With him practically laying on top of you, he isn't well grounded enough to fight off the leverage you have. You use the leg on his shoulder to twist his torso so that his back is pressed against the mat once again. You quickly scramble up his body and twist yourself rapidly, then throw your legs over his shoulders to trap his head between your thighs again. The back of his head is pressed hard against your core, you ignore the friction and the proximity of his mouth to your inner thighs. He's the horny bastard, not you. You suck air into your lungs, desperate for the oxygen to fill you again. Your legs are pressed against his torso, pinning him against the ground. If he rolls he'll only smother himself against the ground, and in the position he can't gain enough leverage to lift you off the ground.

  You sit up, letting your thighs squeeze his throat even more, his silvery eyes are strained as he looks up at you. His hands are gripping at your thighs again, you feel his metal fingertips break your skin, but you pay no mind. You just bring your knife up to his face, in one swift movement you cut off his mask, exposing a pair of full lips and a sharp jaw line. You're shocked by how handsome he is, but you quickly shove the thought out of your mind. This is no time for any sort of admiration. You flip you knife around then bring the tip up to the soft spot under his chin, letting it puncture the skin slightly.

  "Yield." You repeat harshly, voice hoarse from all the choking.

  He glares at you with hate and disdain, obviously desperate to end your life. That's the one thing he can't do though. During these spars you are given one rule, you are not to kill your opponent. You can beat them within an inch of their life, but you cannot take it.

  His flesh hand loosens on your thigh, and then he gives you three harsh pats. Signifying that he has admitted defeat. Neither of you moves an inch, eyes still locked. You're trapped by adrenaline and the carnal need to survive, both full of feral bloodlust. Your body will not release his until an instructor tells you to do so. You're both locked in place by each other, bodies trembling, covered in each other's and your own blood and sweat. His face settles back into his usual blank stare, but his eyes are clouded slightly, lips still quivering. For a moment he looks like he did when his blood trickled from his throat to your mouth, he looks starved, desperate, animalistic.

  Sickening attraction shoots through your veins. Images of his hard body working against yours fill your mind, you can't help but wonder how brutal he would be in the bedroom. His body is designed to destroy others, you're filled with a dark and shameful desire to let him destroy your body however he pleases. It's just the adrenaline, that's the only reason your core pulses when you see that look in his eyes. At least, that's what you tell yourself.

  "Release." A woman's harsh voice echoes behind you.

  Slowly, like two machines being turned off, your bodies loosen their holds on each other. He slides out from between your thighs, using his hands to push you off like you're some hideous garment he can't wait to rid himself of. You slowly stand up, every part of your body crying out in pain as you do. You place your knife back in its holster. Despite the burn in your shoulders, you bring your hands back to hold each other behind your back, then turn stiffly to face your instructor.

  She's a terrifying old woman, muscular and rigid. She keeps her silver hair in an immaculate bun. Her wrinkled face always pulled taught in a harsh grimace. She always looks like she's ready to sentence someone to death, which for all you know, might be true. She sits in her chair with one long leg crossed over the other, she's seated at a solitary stool that's placed in front of the rows of other girls. You don't know her name, and you never will. You have been instructed to refer to her as "Madame Widow".

  "Ready for assessment, Madame Widow." You say, trying to keep your damaged voice as monotone as possible.

  "And you, Soldier?" She asks your opponent pointedly.

  He's standing beside you, a rigid mountain imposing fear on every young woman in the room. Every young woman except you, that is. You got him to yield. You push the pride deep down, it's not an emotion you're permitted to feel.

  "Ready for assessment." He states. He doesn't need to refer to her as Madame Widow, since he's not a pupil of hers. He's simply a weapon used to make you and every girl here a formidable opponent for any enemy.

  "Soldier, you were strong at the beginning." She starts, you feel his energy shift at her words. Shoulders drawing up as he takes a deep, tense breath.

  "You had me convinced it would be a quick and easy victory. You had an opportunity to strangle her within the first thirty seconds but you missed it. This gave her all the information she needed about your fighting style." She glances down at her notepad, her stiletto shaped nails thrum against the paper.

  "Then of course, you had her pinned, but you were… distracted." Her voice is dripping condescension.

  Your heart falls to the floor, she knew. Of course she knew, it's her job to know. You quickly settle yourself. She will see it as a victory on your part, a weakness is a weakness. You have even been taught that as a woman, when you face a male opponent, their greatest weakness will always be their physical desire for you. You had harnessed that in the fight and used it to acquire a victory.

  "Your distraction cost you the match, Soldier. Naturally, she spotted your desire for her immediately and used it to gain the leverage she needed to get you to admit defeat." She says, her tone cold and calculating.

 You hear the metal plates of his arm scrape together and assume his balling up his hand into a fist. You don't dare look over, you're not allowed to look away from your instructor when she's addressing you. You want to see him though, you want to see the blood painting his thick neck where your knife pierced his skin, you want to see him ripping you apart with his eyes in all of their animalistic rage. The thought makes your chest burn with a dreadful desire, a desire that you know you have to kill.

  "You." She says harshly. She angles her head back slightly so she can look down her nose at you.

  "At the start, your fighting was pitiful. You were flustered, panicked, and emotional. You must never show that to an opponent, no matter how outmatched you may be." She chastises you, disgust evident in her voice.

  "However, despite your haphazard style, you were terribly clever. Even when you were losing consciousness you kept your wits about you. You used leverage instead of strength to make your opponent submit more than once. Your ability to manipulate his desire for you was exemplary, and should be incorporated into your sparring more often." She closes her notepad with a harsh snap, straightens her jacket as she stands up with impeccable posture then strides to the front of the room.

  "You two, clean yourselves at the medical station, the rest of you are dismissed." She says curtly, then exits the room, letting the heavy wooden door slam behind her. The girls all move hastily with their heads down, gathering their belongings silently, one by one ducking out of the room not daring to look at you or the Soldier beside you.

  You turn slowly to limp towards the medical station at the other side of the room. It's required that you tend to any wounds inflicted upon you by yourself. It's supposed to teach you to be self-sufficient in the field, since most of your missions will be done as solo operations.

  Once all the girls are gone, you place your hands on either side of the sink then slowly lift your hand to turn the faucet on, but before you can reach it your wrist is seized by a harsh metal grasp. Before you can react, he's got you twisted around, back pressed into the wall beside the sink. He bars you against the wall with his mechanical arm, he presses his mechanical forearm into your chest and you can't help but let out a whimper. He lets out a ragged breath through his nose, you look up into his eyes and your blood freezes. His eyes are an inferno of pure fury. His dark brows are pinched together, his upper lip is pulled up slightly exposing teeth smeared with blood. He has the appearance of a wolf that just got caught tearing out the throat of his prey.

  "You listen to me." He snarls, his voice trembling.

  You can't stop yourself from glancing down at his neck, desperate to see where you wounded him. You're always so morbidly curious about the damage you inflict on others, you hate yourself for it, but you can't get enough of making others bleed. He snaps you out of your trance by practically growling at you.

  "You pathetic bitch. You're too thirsty for blood to even pay attention to the danger you're in." He spits, bringing his knife up to your throat with his other hand. You let your head fall back, without the prying eyes of your instructor and the other girls you can welcome the sharp metal against your skin. You let the veil slip while you revel in the sharp kiss against the soft skin of your throat. That familiar taboo longing fills your chest. You can only guess that he shares your same twisted desires. After the way he reacted to you tasting his blood, you're relatively confident he does.

  You look up at him through your lashes, letting your mouth twist into a teasing smirk.

  "Do it, I fucking want it." You spit the words at him, challenging him with your lewd implications.

  He glares at you with furious eyes, then he lets a shaking breath fall from his lips.

  "You're disgusting." He says with venom. Almost as soon as he's insulted you, he's released you. He turns and stalks towards the exit of the door, broad shoulders swaying in a menacing way as he does. Your hand slides up to feel where his knife had been pressed against your throat, already missing the exhilarating sting. Longing takes over your body and you try to shake it off, identifying it as a weakness immediately. He can want you, because you can use that against him. If you want him though, you're weak and vulnerable.

  You shake your head and rip your hand away from your throat. You have to kill these feelings, you are not allowed to have such a weakness. There's no room for it, it will only cost you dearly in the end. You spin slowly to face the medical station once again, placing your hands back on the sides of the sink. You're shaking like a damn leaf.

  A timid glance at your reflection shows that you're much more beat up than you thought. Your lip is split and caked in blood, your left cheekbone has an angry welt growing on it, and your neck looks like it's been through a meat grinder. Deep purple bruises are already blooming over the skin, the places where his fingers dug in have small patches of blood peaking through the skin. Your heart flutters at the way he's marked you, but it's short lived. The feeling is stuffed deep down inside you, forced to join any other weaknesses he might bring out of you.

  "Fuckin' hell." You huff to yourself.

  None of your wounds are big enough for any bandages, so you'll have to just clean them and let them be. Your overused muscles are producing most of the pain, you'll just have to stretch and rest well tonight. Thanks to your freakish ability to heal, you'll be back to normal by morning. You turn the cold water on so you can give your face an icey splash. The sensation clears your mind slightly and you realize just how much trouble you're in.

  The Winter Soldier is only here temporarily, his mission is to train you and the other girls here then leave. In the few weeks that he's been here you've only seen him for brief moments, stalking around the facility like a ghost. He's an assassin, a weapon, nothing more. He's especially not supposed to be such a source of desire for somebody like you. You have a job to do, and it in no way includes wanting him to fuck your brains out. You blame it on the adrenaline, on natural physical responses. Any woman would be aroused by a man like that pressing himself between their legs. You're not any woman though, you're supposed to be a cold blooded assassin, you're supposed to be a vengeful weapon. You are not meant to have weaknesses like normal women. Your weaknesses aren't those of a normal woman though. Yours are much more sinister...

That Night

  You toss around on your small bed, desperate for sleep that won't come. You skipped dinner and went straight to your room, wanting to avoid everyone, especially him. The longer the day has gone on, the more the soldier is creeping under your skin. The longer you have to reflect on your encounter, the longer the desire you felt wraps its skeletal fingers around your heart. Of all of the fights you've had, you've never been so evenly matched. Yes, you technically beat him, but you hate how close he got to beating you. You don't really have wit like the other girls, or a distracting amount of beauty, but you can fight. You have been the best in hand to hand combat for years and you absolutely hate that somebody came close to taking that title. You haven't lost a fight since you were a child.

  You try to find comfort in the fact that he is a genetically engineered super soldier with a hunk of metal for an arm. You can't beat yourself up for having to fight as hard as you did, you could even find a little pride in it if you wanted to. The thing that you can't seem to escape is the heat that pools between your legs when you think about his metal hand around your throat, the sharp taste of his blood, the way he crushed your chest when he pushed you against the wall. He could have killed you so easily, he had his knife right there. With one swift flick of his powerful wrist he could have slit your throat and left you to die. The thought is positively exhilarating in the most horrible way. Your body erupts in goosebumps as you remember the way his rigid form trembled with rage. Your thighs press together when you think about him hovering above you, drenched in sweat as he bled into your mouth.

  You're not going to fucking sleep. You huff and throw your blankets off, angrily turning on your light. Your pathetic little room has no comforting elements, it just looks like a shitty hotel room. No decorations, just one generic landscape painting on the wall. Your only furniture is your bed, your night stand, and a small rickety dresser for your uniforms. All of it is a plain dark wood, the walls a bland grey much like your blankets and everything else in your life. The style of the room is intentionally designed to look like a hotel room, it's a psychological thing. The intent is to take away any feeling of a home, you're supposed to live on the move, never settle, and never feel safe.

  You quickly change out of your night clothes and throw on a clean uniform, a tight grey shirt with matching cargo pants. A glance at your watch tells you it's a little after midnight. You snatch your knife off the table and examine the blade. The metal is the same black as the handle, it's lines are sleek and deadly. Your eye is caught by a small amount of blood that remains on the edge of the blade. You wipe it on your pants, ignoring the irritating shiver that goes down your spine at the thought of making him bleed. You shove the knife into its holster then turn to check yourself in the pitiful mirror above your dresser.

  Your body has already begun to recover, your bruises fading as if they're weeks old. Your busted lip is hardly noticeable and your muscles are no longer screaming. There's no longer a welt on your cheek and you look like you've had at least ten hours of restful sleep. As much as you detest your healing abilities for ruining any chance you've ever had at living a normal life, it is incredibly convenient. You had been ripped from your family because of it, never even given a chance to develop a bond to know or miss the individuals that gave you life. You suppose it's easier like this though. If you had known them, you'd be susceptible to the pain of living without them. Instead you're filled with rage towards those who stole you from them. You can't afford to feel the weight of mourning, you don't have time for it. Instead you're propelled forward by anger and hatred, mostly for yourself, but also for those that have forced you to live your life as a tool for their own purposes here at this God forsaken Red Room facility.

  You tear yourself from the destructive train of thought as you turn to stalk out of your room. You close your door silently so you don't disturb the other girls on your hall. You chew the inside of your lip as you move down the halls of the barracks. The awful lighting casts a sickening yellow glow on the slate colored walls lined with plain white doors. You finally reach a large steel door at the end of the hall on the right. It has a poorly painted red mark on the door in the shape of a knife. You slide into the room quietly and let your shoulders drop once you're inside and hear the door close behind you. Of course it's empty at this hour, meaning you can release all of your rage without any judgement.

  The knife room, set up much like an indoor shooting range. Every assassin here is trained in close hand to hand combat, making knife handling an essential skill. You stomp into one of the stalls, desperate to relieve your frustrations. You roll your shoulders back and draw in a shaking breath. You wind your arm back and throw the knife at the human shaped target across from you, imagining it's that bastard the Winter Soldier. The handle of the knife pings off the it's thigh then clatters onto the ground, the sight fills you with burning self hatred. You let out a frustrated groan then take off to pick up your knife. You hear something shift in the corner and immediately dive for your knife, quickly returning to your feet to turn towards the noise.

  "You're too angry." Says a cold, deep voice.

  The owner of the voice steps out of the dark corner he's been hiding in. Of course it's him.

  You roll your eyes then walk back to your station.

  "I wonder why that is." You say, you try to still your racing heart as you hear his heavy footsteps moving towards you.

  "It makes you sloppy." You whip your head to face him where he's now stood behind you. His massive arms are crossed over each other, and you notice that he's wearing the same thing he wore at the fight. A strappy leather vest with heavy black pants to match and thick leather boots to tie it all together. Without his black mask to cover his mouth, his handsome features are on display. Except his beauty is shrouded by a scowl that makes his feature dark and menacing. Over all, he looks terrifying. His eyes are nearly the same cold silver as his arm. Your chest burns as his frozen gaze pierces through you, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth and let a huff out through your nose.

  "I didn't ask." You say, trying your best to sound disinterested.

  In one beautiful, fluid motion he pulls his knife out and sends it flying at the target. The knife lands right in the throat of the man shaped target, the sound of the impact echoes gently off the walls.

  "My mission is to improve your skills, so I don't need you to ask. I'm telling you something, so you should listen." He says, sauntering over to retrieve his weapon. His tone is that of an overworked teacher that's been reprimanding his student for making the same mistake over and over.

  "Your mission is to improve everyone's skills, so I don't understand why you're-"

  "Are you really that stupid?" He cuts you off, visibly irritated by your statement. He comes to stand directly across from you, not even a foot apart, much too close for your liking.

  "I would have killed every one of those girls within the first five seconds of a match. There's a reason you were fighting me and not them. You have a weapon that none of them have, you are a weapon. My mission is to improve your skills. Your mutation makes you unique, it makes you valuable, they have asked me to train you." He says it slowly, like he's talking to someone hard of hearing. His patronization makes your blood boil and your fists clench.

  "There are plenty of girls here that could have held their own in that fight. Yeah, I can take a beating more than any of them, but they can all fight like hell no different than me." You say, your voice sharp.

  "You really are stupid, aren't you?" He sneers down at you.

  "You just said it yourself, you can take a beating. Yes, your fighting skills are questionable at best, but you can out fight anyone if you can exhaust them." He explains it like you're a stupid child, which only makes your rage burn hotter.

  "Is that what happened with you?" You ask, poking at his defeat earlier.

  He chuckles, his voice low and dark.

  "Oh no." He says, moving even closer to you. You can feel his hot breath on your cheeks, the sensation makes your head swim.

  "You just found a weakness, well done by the way. Except in doing so, you exposed your own weakness." His voice is absolutely sinful by the end of his sentence. You're so distracted by his seductive tone that you don't even notice his right arm reach up behind you, he grabs your hair by the roots and cranks your neck back, exposing your throat to him.

  Normally, you would fight back, but you don't want to, you can't. You let out a pathetic little noise, making him let out another deep chuckle.

  "You're pitiful." He says it almost affectionately, the gravely tone of his voice makes your legs turn to jelly.

 "I could kill you right now, but you're not even afraid, you're probably getting wet thinking about my knife against your throat." He's growling again, like he did after the fight. You hate how right he is, your core is igniting with heat. You don't even want to think about how you must be absolutely soaking your underwear.

  "What about you soldier, I think I remember you gettin' all hot and bothered when you finally got me underneath you." You tease, his advances give you the confidence to bring your hand up to ghost your fingers along the inside of his thigh.

  He laughs in disbelief, eyebrows shooting up as his lips twist into a wolfish grin.

  "Where the hell did they find you?" He says it like he's thinking out loud.

  All you can do is moan pitifully when he tightens his grip on your hair, you look up at him and let your hands fly to his chest. His eyes have that animalistic look to them, like he wants to literally rip you to shreds. Your walls flutter at the idea and you take in a sharp breath, so desperate for him to drop the teasing act and just have his way with you.

  "So fuckin' needy." He says as he lets his eyes flicker to your parted lips.

  You let your own eyes drop to his throat, your mouth waters at the site of the large red line that your knife created. You did that, you marked him. The thought makes your stomach flip, darkness fills your chest and spurs on your twisted desires. You absentmindedly lick your lips at the sight, an action that he obviously catches.

  "I knew it." He sighs out, his metal hand slides around to spank you harshly, his eyes still burning into yours. You moan against your will and let your nails dig into his vest. The impact of the metal makes your skin sting in a delightful way, and you only want more, so much more.

  "You're a blood thirsty slut." He punctuates his words with another harsh swat, "-and you can take a hit." His voice is starting to sound shakey, like he's holding something back.

  "Beg for me." He gives you another harsh swat.

  You seal your lips. You can't beg for him, this isn't supposed to happen. You refuse to let this asshole create any weakness within you. This has to be a test, if he's truly supposed to train you, this has to be some sick experiment to see if you're as depraved as he thinks you are. He can't win, you didn't give him a victory earlier and you sure as hell won't give him one now. You rip your eyes away from him and glare at the floor, you take a trembling breath and force yourself to deny him.

  "No." Your voice is a pathetic whisper, small and meek.

  "Wrong answer bitch." He snaps with a menacing tone. He forces your body back, walking you into the wall behind you. He presses your body against it then moves his right thigh to spread your legs so you're straddling his thick, muscular leg. His right hand is still holding fast to your hair, but his left is starting to slowly trail up your side. He lets it trace over your breast before ghosting over your collar bone. Your eyes lock with his as soon as his cold metal fingers snake around your throat. Your breath completely stops, your body frozen under his ravenous gaze. You instantly buckle under the weight of your desire for him to destroy you. The dam finally breaks and you drown in the waves of lust, all it takes is one firm squeeze from his inhuman appendage and you're a goner.

  "Fuck- please, please fucking use me." You gasp as he tightens his grip on your throat, you grind down against his thigh again, desperate for any form of friction against your aching center.

  "You've got a filthy little mouth on you." He says, finally releasing your hair.

  "Let's give it something to do." He brings his middle finger up to your lips as he relaxes his hold on your throat, you open your mouth instantly to welcome his thick finger inside.

  "Suck, darlin'." His eyebrows furrow slightly when you slide your tongue over the pad of his finger, sucking him further into your mouth. This can't be happening, you can't let yourself be this weak.

  He quickly pulls his hand out then cups your cheek, placing his thumb under your chin so he can angle your face up towards him.

  "Will you be a good girl for me?" He asks, raising his eyebrows in a challenging way, the question makes you shiver and your mind is flooded with images of him defiling you. Ok, maybe you can be this weak.

  You nod slowly, you feel adrenaline pump through your veins. Your heart is thundering in your chest and your cunt is absolutely aching with need.

  "Use your words." He says harshly, "-you know what I want to hear."

  "Yes sir." You breathe out as he slides his cold metal hand around your throat again. You sigh at the sensation and let your eyes flutter shut.

  "Now, what do you need." He asks, sliding his thumb over your pulse.

  "I need you to use me." You let your voice drop to a raspy tone as you repeat your request from moments ago, you open your eyes to see an almost disturbing look in his.

  His fingers tighten around your throat and he pulls you closer to him until his lips brush against yours, the feeling makes your chest burn.

  "Get on your back, you should be good at that." He huffs against your lips then rips himself away from you. He pulls you off of the wall by your throat and pushes you back into the middle of the room. You drop to your knees like it's second nature, you reach out to run your hands up his strong thighs and you steal a glance at the massive bulge in his pants.

  "You don't fucking listen." He growls, he hikes his large right leg up and plants his boot in the middle of your chest, he sneers down at you while he kicks you back with force. You catch yourself on your elbows and look up at him helplessly. He sinks down to his knees so he's somewhat straddling you, but mostly caging you with his body. He grabs your jaw with his right hand, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

  "When I tell you to do something, you do that thing exactly or I will make you sorry you didn't fucking listen." He spits the words at you, eyes ablaze with fury.

  "What if that's what I want?" You ask, testing the waters for how much patience he has for your attitude.

  His grip tightens on your jaw, inevitably leaving bruises now.

  "You want me to hurt you?" He glares down at you while he talks, he looks angry enough to snap your neck, but the lust raging in his eyes reveals his true desires.

  "Do your worst." You fire back at him.

  Then he's on you, lunging at you like a wild beast. He's pushing you into the ground by your throat, he wedges himself between your legs, pressing his hard length into your center.

  "Sweetheart, my worst would kill you." He groans into your ear. His words pull another moan out of you, your hands claw at his back when he grinds down against you rather roughly.

  "Hands and knees, now." He says then pushes off of you to kneel between your legs. A flame of defiance ignites inside you, it spreads and burns all of your common sense.

  "Fucking make me." You say, the idea of him forcing you to your hands and knees sends a rush of exhilaration through you. Your moment of thrilling defiance is cut short by the feeling of the back of his right hand cracking across your face. Your head jerks to the side as his hand connects with your jaw. You let out an indignant cry, too shocked to do anything else. As soon as he's smacked you, his hand is latched back onto your jaw, he jerks your face towards him, forcing you to scramble to your knees while your hands cling to his wrist.

  "You think you're cute, don't you?" You can feel him shaking with rage as he holds you in place. The sharp pain from his knuckles hitting your face makes your cunt clench, you have to be absolutely dripping at this point. Your entire core is throbbing, desperate to be filled by him.

  "Answer me." He barks.

  "I think -oh shit." You're cut short by the feeling of him running two metal fingers rubbing your clit through your pants. Your body responds instantly to his rough touch, hips bucking against his hand.

  "What do you think?" He teases, pulling his fingers aware from where you need them most.

  "I think you're doing too much talking, not enough fucking." You snap.

  That does it, that pushes his last button. It all happens far too quickly for you to even process everything he does. You feel a sharp pain under your arms, then feel your back hit the hard cement wall. He rips your pants down your legs, bringing himself to his knees so he can rip each of your feet out of the pant legs. You're completely exposed to him now, the cold air hits your pussy and you shiver at the pleasant shock. You glance down at him as he slowly slides the knuckles of his right hand up the inside of your right leg. His cold eyes follow his hand's movement all the way up to where you're desperate for him.

  He uses his knuckles to tease your clit, earning a hiss from you. The sound seems to snap him out of his lustful trance, his body shoots up to loom over you. He glares down at you as his hands move to undo his belt. Your mouth waters at the sight, eager to finally see him exposed.

  "I'm gonna fuck you." He breathes, pulling his belt from the loops of his pants.

  "I'm gonna fuck you like the whore you are, and it's gonna hurt. You're gonna keep that fucking mouth shut, you're gonna take it like a good girl, and you're not going to cum until I say so, do you understand?" He unbuttons his pants, pulls his zipper down, then he pulls out his painfully hard cock. His tip is already dripping with precum, you reach out to touch him, wanting to feel all that girth in your hand. To say he's well endowed would be an understatement, the soldier is fucking massive.

  He snatches your wrist and throws it to the side.

  "Do. You. Understand?" He says, his voice is strained and impatient.

  "Yes sir, I understand." You say weakly, even you're growing tired of the teasing. You're so fucking desperate at this point you don't even have the energy to quip back at him. You're completely pliant now, nothing but putty in his rough and capable hands.

  "Good girl. Now jump." He grabs you by the backs of your thighs, you oblige eagerly. You wrap your arms around his neck and jump off of the floor. He presses you against the wall, he uses his metal hand to hold you around your waist, the other to brace himself against the wall. You help him by wrapping your legs around his hips, pressing your dripping folds against his solid cock, trapping his length between your hot bodies.

  "Fuck." He breathes, letting his head fall to your shoulder.

  "Please, let me put it in." You beg, then press your lips into the side of his head.

  "Since you asked so nicely." He huffs against your neck, his voice has lost most of its rough edge, he sounds much less stable now and much more desperate.

  You reach down between your bodies and grab his length by the base, giving him one long stroke before sliding his tip along your folds, gathering your slick as you line him up at your entrance. He doesn't give you a single second to do anything else before he snaps his hips up, shoving himself into you. He was definitely right about it hurting, you bite into his leather clad shoulder to muffle your cry. He presses himself into you and you feel tears prick your eyes as he stretches you painfully. He brings his head away from your neck to rest his forehead against your own. Your eyes lock with suffocating intensity and your cunt immediately clenches around his cock, now completely inside of you. He hisses at the sensation, then he presses his lips against yours with bruising force.

  You moan into the kiss, letting your fingers dig through his messy brown hair. He presses his tongue against your lips and you open wide for him. The way he's kissing only makes you want more of him, your chest fills with the shameful desire to be used by him. The way he moves against you is flawless, he's rough and precise, like he's already known your body for years. He bites your bottom lip then slowly pulls his hips back just to thrust himself back inside you.

  "Shit!" You sob against his mouth, pulling his hair a little as the broken sound leaves your throat. He's stretching you out and filling you up, he's absolutely ruining you. The sharp pain of his cock opening you up is something you only want more of.

  "You've got such a tight little cunt." He sighs pulling back again then sliding in at a torturous pace.

  "Tell me again, what do you need?" He asks, voice catching when your walls flutter around him.

  "I need you to use me, hurt me, fuck me. Please- shit- please fucking ruin me." Your voice is broken and full of lust, you look him dead in the eyes while you confess your needs to him. Hot tears fall down your cheeks as you beg. He's barely even started, and you're already a moaning mess for him.

 With a growl and a wild look in his eyes he pulls out slowly one last time, then he starts ramming into you suddenly and relentlessly. Your jaw drops and you grab onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck completely, your head falls back against the wall and a moan rips out of your throat.

  "You fucking whore, you're dripping. You like it when I hurt you? Does that make this pussy wet?" He says with a mocking tone.

  "Yes sir." You cry, your thighs squeeze his hips, his words stoke a familiar flame inside you.

  If at all possible, he snaps his hips into you even harder, the obscene sounds of his skin meeting yours fill the room, you can even hear how soaked you are as he pumps in and out of you.

  "I knew this is what you wanted." He huffs, he presses a sloppy kiss against your lips.

  "As soon as you licked my blood off of your lips, I knew you were a nasty little pain slut." He ends his sentence with a harsh moan.

  Your back is being rubbed raw by the concrete of the wall, your cunt is being split open by his brutal pace, but you welcome all the pain. You fucking love it, it makes everything so much more thrilling. His thrusts halt for just a brief moment, just long enough for him to pull you off of the wall with a growl. He falls back onto the ground, landing so you're straddling him, your hands plant on either side of his head, knees aching from the impact. He throws his arms around your waist then he starts snapping his hips up, drilling himself into your pussy. The new angle allows him to rut into you so hard that the head of his dick pounds into your cervix with every brutal thrust. You sob into his shoulder, your arms give out and you collapse against his chest. You can feel his cock so fucking deep, this new position is more incredible than anything you've ever felt. You're fully sobbing now, hands gripping at him wherever they can't find purchase. You moan out broken sentences, begging for more and more of his addicting thrusts.

  "How's that feel, bitch?" He says with a ragged voice. He brings his metal hand down against your ass, smacking it so hard you're certain he breaks the skin. It only makes you clench around him even tighter, the exhilarating sensation pushes more years from your eyes as you all but scream out.

  "Good girl, fuckin' take it." He groans.

  His words make your abs seize up, you feel your legs start to shake and your cunt start tighten, electricity settles in your lower belly and your walls start to flutter.

  He smacks your ass again, so fucking hard.

  "I didn't say you could cum yet." He sinks his teeth into your neck with a harsh groan. The sting only brings you closer to the edge.

  "Please sir, please I'm so fucking close. Let me cum on your cock. Please please please." You sound absolutely pathetic, you feel drool drip out of your open mouth as he drills into you mercilessly.

  "Look at you, you're such a fuckin' mess." He gives you a particularly rough thrust, absolutely nailing your cervix much harder than he has been. The delicious sting makes your entire body tremble.

  "Please let me cum sir, I'll be a good girl I swear please just let me cum. I wanna be so fuckin' good for you, I'll do anything." You beg like you're pleading for your life, your body is so painfully close to release, but you don't dare reach down to play with your clit, you know better.

  "Tell me what you need, sweetheart." He moans against your neck. The gentle nature of the name he's just moaned contrasts harshly with the previous degrading terms, it strokes your ego in a delicious way.

  "My clit, please, please rub my clit." Your voice is completely shredded, thankfully, he seems to finally give you what you want.

  His flesh hand shoots down between your bodies, finding your clit immediately. The contact sends electric shocks through your cunt and down your legs. You bite onto his shoulder again to quiet your screaming.

  "No." He growls, his free hand snatches you by your roots and rips your mouth from his shoulder, the sharp pain makes you cry out from the back of your throat.

  "I better fuckin' hear it when you cum- fuck- do it now, be a good girl like you promised and let me feel you cum." That's all it takes, his fingers working at your clit as his rough voice grants you permission. You tremble violently against him as you finally let your orgasm rip through you. White hot pleasure shreds every nerve in your body. An inhuman scream leaves your throat as your walls contract around his dick. He just keeps fucking you through it, not stopping his destructive pace for even a second.

  "Cum inside me." You moan out against the side of his head while your nails dig into his shoulders. His hips stutter slightly and he lets out a high pitched moan that only makes your walls squeeze tighter.

  "Yeah? You want me to come inside your slutty little cunt?" He asks, voice laced with a desperate edge that makes your eyes roll back in your head.

  "Please, I want you to ruin this cunt, I want you to ruin me." You beg, and he finally fucking breaks.

  With a deep, ragged moan he buries himself inside you, stilling as he spills his load deep within your walls. You gasp as you feel his thick cock pulse inside you, painting your insides white with his hot cum.

  "Fucking shit- good girl, such a good girl." He chants against your neck, nipping the skin between moans. You're both panting heavily, hands clinging to each other without any desire to let go. You lift your head slightly to gaze down at him. He stares up at you with lust blown pupils, the silvery blue of his irises nearly overtaken by the dark centers. Neither of you say a word, you just lay there and drink each other in. Whatever you've unlocked with each other tonight isn't something you could even begin to talk about. Your bodies twitch against each other, both of you riding out your aftershocks, coming down from your frantic highs. You let your forehead drop to meet his as a dopey smile spreads across your face.

  His flesh hand comes up to cradle your face gently, the tenderness of it makes you jump slightly. He takes a deep breath in before uttering his next words with a deep, warning voice.

  "Do you still want me to do my worst?"

@b-o-n-e-daddy @can-i-sin-right-now @confused-racoon @lostsoul23 @buckysbbygirl @perksofbeingabookworm @peace-love-hobbitness @buckyshenley16 @brownlee-22 @deardiarylovegale @upsettispagettii @supernaturalbaesduh @delightfulbakeryaliendeputy @blowing-mikey @littlegasps

[peachyteabuck]

i’m a money symbol

summary: when ransom finds out he’s been cut from the will, there’s a different reason he flies into a murderous rage 

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

words: 1655

trigger warnings: degradation, findom/sub dynamics, sex work, 

notes: thank you to @helahades​ for talking to me about this concept when i was still debating writing it. ur an enabler but i love u very much

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

Ransom stares at you with eyes that rival that of pleading puppies - large and watery and a deep, deep blue. His clean-shaved face, tear-stained and reddened from the sobs that still riddle his body, is equally as pathetic.

“I-I promise I-I can pay you s-”

You cut him off with the raise of a single sculpted eyebrow, looking down at him as he falls to his knees - body folded and hands clasped together like a fervent believer praying for forgiveness after committing some heinous sin, or a servant begging their superior to let them keep their lowly position. Either analogy seems fitting given the circumstances, given his lack of inheritance and the slowly declining numbers in his bank account.

“One thing,” you hiss, lifting one of your expensive Louboutin heels so that it presses into the base of his neck, forcing his body into an even more unnatural position. He groans just a little at the pain - ass (and much more of him, probably) still sore from last night’s session. You ignore him. “I ask for one thing. It’s not hard. In fact, it was the one thing you could do quite well. Any now, what, you have none?”

Ransom gulps, nearly out of breath. “I-I have money it’s just that I-, I’m cut off right now I sw-”

The pointed heel presses further, his legs spreading underneath him to make room as his nose nearly touches the recently cleaned red oak flooring.

“Shut the fuck up,” you hiss, practically spitting as you glare down at him. “Only good little boys who pay me to earn the right to speak to me are allowed to blubber like children.”

He whimpers as the sharp pain from your expensive shoe merges with the clumsy position of his limbs to settle in his blood – his whole body screaming like a banshee as his cock strains in his years-old designer skinny jeans.

“The worst part is,” you sigh, watching his muscles strain just as heat settles in your stomach. Slowly, but surely, it moves to your core. “I was looking forward to seeing you again. Can you imagine such a thing? Me, looking forward to seeing one of you stupid little pay pigs…”

A dry laugh fills the air that sense another wave of arousal through his nervous system, his muscles and brain screaming at him to get up and walk the Hell out of there while his cock pleads with him to stay in place.

“Now get naked,” you sigh, swishing the sweet cocktail in one of the glasses monogrammed with your initials you had gotten as a gift (again, not from Ransom) last year. “I know of a way you can be of use to me.”

Immediately he strips, your gaze heated and targeted as he peels that damned sweater he refuses to replace from his toned body. He sucks in a sharp breath as the air – cool despite the roaring fire – hits his bare skin, goosebumps erupting all over as he shivers under your heated gaze.

It’s amusing, to say the least, to watch his clothes hit the floor, kicked aside as if they were something worse than trash despite their designer tags. Money means nothing to Ransom Drysdale-Thrombey if it’s not being spent on you.

Without preamble, you kick him with a single heeled foot so that he’s knocked to his knees, hands strained at his sides as he desperately attempts to obey the rules that accompany punishments. As his eyes screw shut in pain, you take the few seconds to grab the worst thing you keep in the drawer of the small table next to your plush, deep purple velvet armchair. It’s the thing Ransom hates the most in this world – even more than his family or their stupid maid or being broke or even disappointing you.

Just as his eyes open, you lean down to lock his cock in the pink plastic cage with a wince-inducing click, depositing the key in the space between your chest and the baby pink fabric of your bralette. It’s simple, mostly sheer with embroidered flowers spanning over the length of each breast while barely concealing your hardened nipples. The matching panties show off your tummy and thighs – cutting you in just the right places so that you look even more heavenly than usual.

“Fu-uck,” he moans when he realizes what’s happened, what you’ve done to him. It’s almost cute in how pathetic it is, the sound he makes and the precum that gathers at the tip and how his stomach tightens with each breath. It’s cute how pathetic he is – how his face scrunches up and he bites his lips until they’re beautiful and plump. Ransom Drysdale-Thrombey may be a chauvinist asshole with an ego bigger than his trust fund (or, what he trust fund used to be), but damn can he be so pretty it hurts.

“Down,” is all you say, giving him a small hmm as he falls to all fours. His eyes remain focused on the ground as you haven’t given him permission to keep anything else in his eyeline. He doesn’t need to be told to keep his back straight, body barely flinching as you sit back down and plant your feet in the center of his spine, your authentic red bottoms a beautiful contrast to his milky skin.

“You like my shoes, baby?” you ask, rolling them back in forth against the ridges of his spine. “You got them for me when you had money—you weren’t as useless then…”

Ransom’s back is parallel to the plush white throw you’d placed on the ground for him, his palms, knees, and the front of his feet warming the fur as you rest your own feet in the center of his spine. He can’t see you as he faces your fireplace, doesn’t have the pleasure of watching you as you talk with other clients - other men with millions, maybe even billions more than him not only in their bank accounts, but in their futures. Your long acrylic nails, ones it pains him to think he didn’t pay for, taptaptap against your phone screen as messages are typed. Judging by the click he hears every so often (in combination with your shifting in your seat) Ransom assumes you’re also taking photos – but whether they’re of you to send to customers or of him to use as blackmail, he may never know.

It's painful in a plethora of ways – but the playboy can’t tell if the pit in his chest, the aching of his cock, or the sharp pain in his back hurts worse. None of these things improve with time, either, the hours marked by glasses of champagned downed and Venmo transfers made.

The only thing that makes it better is the familiar sound of your phone being locked and placed in the side table screen-down before your feet are planted back on the floor with two sharp clacks. Sounds that would normally make Ransom’s cock jump if not for the plastic that was locked around him.

“Get in position, you useless slut,” you hiss, your hand flying to this throat so you could squeeze a warning against his skin. “You’re going to pleasure me until I say you can stop.”

Ransom gulps, his eyes wide with fear and pupils blown from lust. He gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing in a way that reminds you of when he deepthroats one of your many, many straps, and bows his head in submission. “Y-yes Mistress,” he moans deep, his eyes fluttering shut as the sheer memory of your dripping cunt floods his mind. It’s been so long – too long – since he’s been with you, been inside you; and he’s desperate as you push your panties to the side to reveal your soaked lips.

Ransom waits for your nod of approval before he launches himself forward, placing wet kisses wherever he can reach. You’re sensitive already, little gasps falling past your lips when he takes your clit between his teeth and sucks.

You don’t do a lot of sex work that involves service clients – it’s exhausting, to say the least, requires a lot of set up and take down and the like. For a long while you did no contact work, but it was a few clients – Ransom included – that convinced you to break into it.

And, fuck does he make all the work worth it. His fingers slide into you with confidence and expertise, finding that special spot inside of you with ease, groaning into your dripping cunt each time you cry out his name.

“Jesus, baby boy,” you cry out between guttural moans. “You’re so fucking good for your Mistress aren’t you?”

He nods, flatting his tongue as his face moves up and down and that-

That is what breaks you.

You come on his face as your thighs nearly choke him – his hands digging into the insides of your thighs. Ransom himself can’t tell if he’s trying to pull him apart – desperate for air as his whole body goes cold from lack of oxygen – or if his arms holding them in place so he has the honor to die while experiencing pure euphoria. As your pussy pulses on his tongue Ransom wonders if he’s already passed over, if Heaven is the space between your legs and why he’s been allowed there despite his many, many sins.

It doesn’t take long before his movements slow for a moment, causing you to groan in frustration before grabbing his previously-impeccably styled hair.

“Did I tell you to stop, slut?”

He gives you a small whine before shaking his head, eyes large and jaw soaked.

You smile at his obedience. “Then get down there and eat me out until I’m crying.”

Ransom smiles before moving his head back down, returning to his position below you.

God, you think. This really is the best job ever.

[thepoppypress]

An Apple A Day Keeps The Doctor Away (If Thrown Hard Enough)

Synopsis: 

Alternatively,

5 times Dr. Peter Parker took care of the Bat Family.

+1 time they took care of him.

Peter rued the day he became a doctor. He should’ve listened to Mr. Stark and went to MIT like the genius had wanted him to. No. No, instead, he had to go to medical school. He wanted to ‘help people’ and ‘heal them,’ like Dr. Strange. What a fucking joke.

(On the other hand, Dr. Strange was near tears when Peter told him he had gotten accepted into medical school.)

And then, he gets hired by one of the richest, if not the most wealthy bachelor in Gotham City (a city that Mr. Stark hadn’t wanted him to move to in the first place) and his multiple children (most of whom are not related to him) through a mutual acquaintance, Dr. Leslie Thompkins, to be their in-home family doctor. He was on top of the world. If only he knew it was all downhill from there.

-----

1) Bruce:

Peter stared at the handsome man sitting atop the bed in incredulity. Everyone else in the room was silent. Very much so silent. Even Alfred kept himself out of this. He knew better.

‘They should all know better by now,’ Peter thought bitterly.

“So let me get this straight,” Peter said, breaking out of his disbelieving stare and pinching the bridge of his nose. Bruce cut in before the doctor could continue.

“There’s not much to get straight, Dr. Parker.” Peter gave his boss a deadpan stare.

“So you’re saying that you currently have three, three holes in you because of a horseback riding incident?”

“Exactly, Doctor.” Bruce nodded sagely, completely serious. Well, at least that’s what he seemed like. Peter’s expression did not change.

“And that I had to dig the bullets of said three holes because yOU WERE SHOT DURING A HORSEBACK RIDING INCIDENT?! DO YOU KNOW HOW RIDICULOUS YOU SOUND?!” The five other men in the background winced as the doctor started chewing out the head of the household, boss or not.

‘Master Bruce, you loveable and absolute moron,’ Alfred thought while Peter was still flailing his arms about, lecturing Bruce Wayne like it was his place. And Bruce was letting him.

“IS THERE ANYTHING YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF?!” A beat of silence dropped before Bruce’s deep baritone said something, eyes entirely too innocent.

“It was an accident?” It was said as a question. Peter stared in absolute mortification. Slowly, the pale skin of his face turned a lovely shade of pink as a flush of anger slowly made its way towards the roots of his hair.

‘Bruce,’ his sons collectively thought with a flinch. The doctor would not like that answer.

“ARE YOU FU-” Peter seemed to burst outward like an explosion.

‘Oh dear,’ Alfred thought while sweating lightly, ‘it looks as though we’ll be there for a while.’ Afterall, it was an official rule. No one interrupted when the good doctor was lecturing.

(It also seemed like Dr. Parker knew. Oh damn it all to hell.)

-----

2) Dick:

“I want you to stay off of that for a few weeks Dick. I know it’s a sprain but I don’t want any lasting damage. Promise me you will.” It was a demand, plain and simple.

“I promise.” The statement was said with a beaming smile. Peter gave a terse one back and sent the first son on his way. After he was gone, Peter thought a bit.

It was entirely too innocent and convincing enough, he supposed. But he knew better. Dr. Peter Parker sighed in frustration.

‘Like father, like son, it seems.’

------

Dick collapsed onto the couch, Damian grunting as he drops his eldest brother unceremoniously. He then slumped down next to his brother as they groaned in unison. The Riddler. Again.

Bruce, Tim, and Jason were also in the room, slouching in their own chairs, licking their own wounds that really shouldn’t have gotten. If only they hadn’t started playing that damn game in the middle of the battle, despite Bruce’s good efforts to stop it halfway through once he realized what his sons were doing.

The oldest Wayne son fidgeted a bit before hissing in pain, clutching his leg. The same one that was injured about a week ago. Damian’s eyes lit up in mild alarm.

“Grayson, is that not the leg that Dr. Parker told you to stay off?” Cobalt blue eyes swiveled to meet jade green before a sheepish smile filled out Dick’s face. Three other sets of eyes came to stare at their oldest brother expectedly.

“Well-” A voice seemed to come from nowhere.

“Why yes it is, Damian. How keen of you to notice.” Said doctor melted out of the shadows. The sons startled and even Bruce seemed to be slightly panicked. Sometimes, it was as if he was better than them at going places undetected.

“P-Peter.” Dick was the first to snap out of it and instantly knew what position he was put in. “Look, I-I know I shouldn’t have-” Dick stopped mid-sentence, realizing his mistake.

“Shouldn’t have what, Dick?” Peter waited for his patient to self incriminate himself. “It’s okay, I’m not mad. I just want to know what you shouldn’t have done.” It was a siren’s croon, lulling them into a false sense of security. It was dangerous, they all knew. Oh, did they know. Dick gulped.

“I actually have no idea what you’re talking about.” The others seemed to shrink back into their chairs as the dark aura around the doctor grew.

‘Oh shit,’ they all thought.

“Oh,” it was said mildly enough, but the murderous intent behind it was obvious. “Is that so?” Dick pressed closer to Damian as Peter stalked forward, procuring a wheelchair from seemingly nowhere.

Positioning it in front of the couch, Peter reached forward and lifted Dick like he weighed nothing (as if he didn’t have five inches and about 40 pounds on him) and deposited him onto the seat. Before the acrobat could wriggle and squirm about, Peter pressed a button that released restraints on the oldest, holding him in place. Horror was evident on Dick’s face.

“B! B! Help me!” He pleaded to his adoptive father as he sat at the desk. Bruce only stared at the wood beneath his elbows, back and shoulders tense. It seemed that he would not be helping him tonight.

“Shall we go now? It seems we need to revisit some old lessons.” The smile on Peter’s face was sweet, but his teeth gleamed white and sharp, eyes even sharper. Dick wailed as Peter forcibly removed him from the room. They were gone all of three seconds before Jason burst out laughing.

“Oh shit! May he rest in peace! Good luck Dickiebird! You’re gonna need it!” The man convulsed with laughter, a sentiment neither of his other brother’s shared for they both felt the dark aura moving towards the room once again.

Peter poked his head back in, Dick still struggling against the restraints with the force of a wildman. Jason, once he caught sight of the good doctor, stopped laughing immediately.

“Don’t think you guys are off the hook.” There it was. That entirely too-sweet smile. “I’m coming back for you all. We’ll be talking about that game of Hide-And-Go-Seek-Tag in the middle of a mission..”

He disappeared again, dragging Dick off to his quarters, leaving the remaining brothers and their father with one thought in their heads, and while they would’ve escaped while they could if it was someone else, they knew better than that. It was Peter after all.

‘Fuck,’ was the collective thought.

-----

3) Jason:

Alfred sipped his tea quietly, content to the core as Bruce read the weekly newspaper and Damian buttered some toast for himself. It was a beautiful Monday morning in the Wayne Manor in the middle of May. The butler’s expression didn’t change one bit as a resounding crash was heard above them.

“GET BACK IN THE BED, JASON PETER TODD!”

“NO, FUCK YOU!” More thumps occurred as Alfred continued to drink his hot beverage. There was a struggle before Dr. Peter Parker’s strangled voice demanded,

“DICK! GO GET THE TRANQUILIZER!”

“YESSIR!” Loud footsteps trailed away. The three in the dining room did not pause in their activities. Alfred continued to sip, Bruce continued to read, and Damian bit into the toast.

“TIM! THE ROPES!” More footsteps amongst the loud struggle.

“FUCK OFF! YOU’RE NOT MY MOM!”

“I’M YOUR DOCTOR. I’M WORSE!”

“HERE’S THE TRANQ! AND THE ROPES!”

“WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?! AN INVITATION?! FUCKING SHOOT HIM ALREADY!” Another struggle on the floor before a loud thump and the mansion quieted. Bruce paused in reading, looking up to the ceiling.

“Seems like they finally got Jason back into bed.”

“It would seem that way, sir.”

“Tt.”

‘How peaceful,’ Alfred thinks.

-----

4) Tim:

Paranoia swept through Tim as the family doctor watched him bring his coffee to his lips. Said doctor had brought said coffee and said doctor’s eyes were on said coffee. Tim’s eyes widened. There was something wrong with the coffee. Hurriedly, he brought his favorite drink the whole wide world into the nearest bathroom to pour it out, tears in his eyes as he did so.

‘Such a waste,’ he bemoaned. Tim trudged back into the hallway, bypassing Peter who had followed him to make another cup of coffee, on his own so he was sure there was nothing in it. Like prescribed sleeping pills.

Even as he did make it, Peter’s doe brown eyes never left him. More waves of paranoia crashed into Tim, even more than the tiredness. Peter’s eyes were still on the cup. Tim’s mental voice was screaming with outrage and loss.

There must’ve been something in the coffee beans. Tim took a sip and instantly spit it back out. It tasted fine but there must be something wrong. There had to be.

The process repeated five more times. Each time Tim remade the coffee, Peter eyed it and it made Tim spit it back out and remake another one, insisting within his own mind that there was something wrong with it.

Eventually, Tim gave up on coffee for the day and went back up to his office, coffee-less. Peter followed him there too.

Thirty minutes later, Tim could barely keep his eyes open. Squinting up at the figure leaning against the doorway, he screeched out.

“Why?! What did I do to you?!” The figure said nothing. They only waved. Two larger figures joined the lone one. “WHY?!” A deep voice shushed him.

“Relax, Replacement. This was a long time coming. You’re lucky the doc held out until now.” Tim dry-heaved, head dizzy with the need to sleep.

But Tim couldn’t sleep.

“I have work to do!” He wailed desperately.

“We know, babybird. That’s why Damian’s going to help out.” The second youngest son sobbed at the name.

“He’s going to ruin everything!” A voice scoffed.

“I appreciate your faith in me, Drake.”

“Alright,” Peter’s voice cut through, and was soft but no less commanding, “take him away, boys. Do whatever it takes to keep him in bed.” Tim could hear the smirk in Jason’s voice as he turned to plead helplessly at Peter’s kind, beautiful face. If only that face matched the personality.

“Will do, doc.” With that, Dick and Jason dragged their little brother away for some much needed sleep.

Tim’s screams echoed through the mansion.

(Frankly, Damian thought they were a rather beautiful sound. One he could definitely fall asleep to.)

-----

5) Damian:

Jason waited with an evil grin on his face, waiting for his youngest brother to get out of the operation room. Damian Al Ghul-Wayne, Ibn al Xu Ffasch, had just gotten his wisdom teeth removed. Already 18 years old, Damian had insisted that he not needed them taken out but was left in pain for the past few days. It turns out that one of them had gotten infected somehow and they needed to be removed post-haste.

Peter waited with the rest of the Wayne family (being a doctor, he didn’t know the first thing about teeth. He was no expert in that field. But when Damian had insisted that he get them out himself, he suddenly became an expert at wrestling a scalpel away from a trained child-assassin while simultaneously holding a conversation with a colleague of his on rushing the surgery. Thank God for rich people.) while Damian was in surgery.

About an hour later, they had successfully removed the abscess and Damian’s wisdom teeth while doping him on a lot of anesthesia. Jason rubbed his hands together gleefully, itching to get to his phone to start recording. Blondie would love this one.

-----

By the time they got home, Damian was still asleep. Dick and Bruce carried Damian (for an 18 year old, he sure was large) into Peter’s office, laying him down on the bed for monitoring. While it was only wisdom teeth removal, Peter had to make sure the stitches were cleaned thoroughly and rinsed out with salt water.

Only thirty minutes had passed when Damian groggily woke and evidently, high on the anesthesia. Tim, who was sitting right next to the bed, quietly engaging Peter in an interesting conversation about the theory of time and relativity, was instantly at attention.

“Damian?” Tim whispered and Damian’s eyes popped right open, staring up at Tim in disbelief. “Damian?”

“Oh my God.” Tim glanced at Peter, who was also slightly confused and a bit amused. “This is Heaven. Hi Dr. Parker.” Peter chuckled.

“Hello Damian.” Said man smiled dopily (at which point Tim started recording), before turning back to his brother with puzzlement.

“Wait, if this is Heaven, why are you here?” A moment of silence passed before Tim’s expression became deadpan and Peter’s shoulders shook with laughter.

“It’s part of an exchange program. Gandhi’s down there at a strip club with Mussolini.” That made Peter laugh outright. It wasn’t much longer before Damian went back to sleep.

-----

“Hey Jason.”

“Hmm?”

“Wake up your brother so I can take care of his gums.”

“Okay.”

“...”

“...”

“I SWEAR TO GOD, IF YOU HIT HIM-”

“Okay, okay! Jeez!”

-----

+1) Peter:

“ACHOO!” Dick winced as the doctor of the house sniffled into the tissue. Warm temperature, runny nose, and bad cough meant a sick Dr. Peter Parker.

“You need to relax, Pete.” Dick’s tone was pleading. For someone who took such good care of others, he was a bad patient when it came to himself.

“Ugh,” Peter’s nasally tone broke through, obviously horribly congested. “I’m fine, Dick. I just need to walk it off.” Disbelief showed on the eldest Wayne sibling’s face as Peter attempted to get out of his bed. A calloused hand pushed him back down and even while sitting on the bed, he swayed dangerously. Dick was very concerned.

“Nope. I can’t do this alone. I’m getting Alfred.”

Not five minutes later, Alfred arrived with warm, spicy soup (cooked about an hour ago when Alfred had heard the telltale signs of a cold), a damp rag, and some medicine.

“Here, Dr. Parker. Eat some soup before drinking the medicine.” The spice cleared his sinuses well and the medicine made him very sleepy. It wasn’t long before he was out like a light, unaware of the adoring looks sent his way.

-----

Come early morning, Peter woke up well rested and feeling better than ever. The only problem was he couldn’t move. Turning his head to his right, he found Damian, in his tall and well muscled form clinging to his arm like a child.

It made Peter coo internally.

Dick was on his left, cradling Peter to his side and Tim snuggled on Dick’s chest, a blanket draped over all four of them.

All three brothers were positioned so that the doctor wouldn’t be able to escape without alerting any of the others.

He couldn’t move his legs either, Peter realized. Looking down, he noticed Jason’s head pillowed on the meat of his calf, arresting his movement and trapping him in a very comfortable and warm prison.

Bruce was beside the bed, sitting in a chair in an uncomfortable looking position that would surely put a crick in his neck.

‘Oh well,’ Peter thinks with a smile on his face, halfway back to sleep already, ‘it’s not like I can move any time soon.’

The ‘just the way I like it,’ was unsaid but unconsciously there.

[itstheimpossibledream]

Merry Christmas Pal

Merry Christmas, Happy New Year all the things! This fic was written specifically for @writethelifeyouwant as part of the SPN secret santa gift exchange but I hope we can all enjoy a little bit of smut this holiday! They said I had the freedom to write whatever I choose so enjoy this slightly wincestiel project! Also shout out to @negans-lucille-tblr for suggesting this great idea!

Word Count: 2,649

"Dean?"Cas called out as he grappled with the seatbelt. They had just pulled up to Madeline's house, Dean was already practically up the stairs, Sam stopped short and helped Castiel from the Impala. The street was decorated neatly for the holidays and Madeline’s small house specifically was lit to perfection.The boys quickly hurried behind Dean,reaching your steps just in time to pick an unassumingly provocative pose as you opened the door.  

The men were dimly lit by the lantern on your porch but you were not at all surprised by the rag-tag group the night had brought in. You had often opened your home to fellow hunters but, very few marked as memorable as the Winchesters. 

"Who's the friend?" you ask calmly motioning toward the trench coat. 

"Hi. I'm Castiel" the man stepped forward with him arm outstretched. Your eyes bounced from Dean to Sam and then back to Dean again. 

"Come in." you say turning your back to them and moving through the doorway into your home. 

"We really didn't mean to barge in on you like this Mads. We just had the craziest couple of days and really need a place to crash."

The boys looked like they had been through hell. It had been a while since the last time you saw them, and if we're being honest you were doing your best to contain the excitement. The last time the boys were here you had all stayed up drinking, and reminiscing which had led to a confusing yet thrilling three-way in the middle of your living room. 

Infact, everytime a Winchester had stayed in your home an encounter was bound to happen. Years ago when John had visited you for the second time, after hunting down a particular ghoul was the first night with a Winchester for you. God, just thinking of John's deep silky voice now makes your toes curl. The way he'd emphasized the slowness of that night. you must've had sex for hours and it still hadn't seemed like enough. John was brilliant at dragging out your orgasm, building it in you until you called out his name. That night he had you pressed up against your fridge, jeans around your ankles as he slammed into you, asking you over and over again 'who's your daddy?'. You didn't peg him for liking the daddy kink. I mean, he so obviously was one but, most hunters tended not to go for the obvious bent. You had found most hunters wanted to cry, make love and play house for a few hours before returning to their sad motels and continuing with their even sadder lives usually in a quest for revenge and usually you never saw them again. But John was different , John would visit you often and when his boys began looking for him , your address was a prominent stop in the state. Apparently, he had left behind proof that the two of you had been together.Strangely sentimental for a very mature man who's surety of himself caused him to remain a mystery. He was a good amount older than you but that never seemed to matter.The few minutes of reminiscing had caused a wetness to pool in your panties and you already felt yourself gearing up for whatever the younger Winchesters could possibly have in store. But, what was this third man doing here?

You had invited the men to sit in the living room while you heated up leftovers and prepared drinks. The new one preferred not to eat but he drank in time with the boys. As you served Dean he wrapped an arm around your waist,Sam was overflowing with compliments of your food but,Cas sat there nodding lightly as Sam and Dean filled you in on their latest hunts. As the night wore on, after your fourth or fifth trip to the fridge to freshen someone's beer you sat down next Castiel. He seemed so nervous and cold. When Sam and Dean excused themselves to bring in bags from the car and lock up the Impala for the night you found yourself unable to sit in the sullen silence anymore. You found yourself standing in front of the sink, washing dishes and looking for the right words. 

"So Castiel?" you asked, turning all your attention toward him as he helped you finish with the dishes. "How did the boys talk you into spending your holiday here?"

"Well, Dean says your food makes it the best place to stay, especially around christmas time. And I think he's also hoping you will decide to have sex with me."

You whirled from the sink to face him setting your mug on the counter. 

"And what makes him think that?"

"No idea, I told him I haven't had much luck with human women." he shrugged completely unembarrassed.

" And why do you think that is ?" you said more sarcastic than interested

" Because I'm a virgin, and Dean says no man should die a virgin.And also it's apparently great after a hunt." he sighed, shaking his head. At this moment Dean and Sam came back through the door carrying bags, one small pink gift bag caused your eyebrows to crease. Dean dropped the bags by the door as Sam came over to you with the small one. 

"A token of our gratitude for allowing us to spend the holidays with you." You looked quizzically from Sam to Dean, then to Cas.

" I promise it's not truck stop food." Cas said. That caught you by surprise that you laughed out loud at one of his jokes. It was an evergreen candle. Basic but, it was nice to know that the boys were thinking of you. "Thank you guys." you smiled as Sam stepped in for a hug. He was obviously the one who had picked out the candle. You came down from the hug and you turned to Dean to ask "So, what's this about Cas coming to my house to lose his virginity?" Dean turned to look at Cas, Sam's jaw dropped open. 

"You told her?" Dean was obviously frustrated with his friend, I guess he was nervous it would make you not want to hook up at all. 

"Well I was going to have to find out at some point right ?" you laugh trying to lift the mood.

"Dean wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable" Sam quickly jumped to the rescue "We just want Cas to have an interaction with a woman he can trust you know when we're working anyone could be a demon or a monster it's not a popular line of work and - and-" 

"I didn't say I wouldn't do it ." You reply looking directly at Cas " If I'm being honest it's always been a bit of a kink of mine to be someone's first."

Now it was Dean's turn to have his mouth hang open. 

"Great! So should we go upstairs?" Cas exclaimed. 

"Wait Cas, are you sure that like- you're ready now?" Sam's face was so earnest 

"Yup!" Cas said making his way towards the stairs. You stepped towards him.

"Hold on" you said, reaching for the lapels of his jacket. He allowed you to slide it off of his shoulders. the boys watched in silence as you draped the coat over the bannister and slowly undid his tie. You added his tie to the bannister and stepped in closer, sharing the air with him. He immediately leaned in and kissed you. You were slightly stunned by the confidence but also intrigued. He was a sweet kisser, smooth and calm, his tongue moved, calculated. A hand lightly caressed the curve of your lower back into your butt. You could tell it wasn't Cas's hand,this hand was larger and rougher. The hand moved to the front of your body and you could feel it working it's way toward your core. As nervous as you were, you couldn't get over the excitement of having multiple men at once. 

"Get on your knees" the man behind you was definitely Dean,you do as he says. You situate yourself on the floor as Dean reaches over you and undoes Cas's pants. His cock spills out and you watch as Dean slowly jerks him. You turn your head to find Sam sitting in the living room a few steps away with his pants around his ankles, watching. His strokes were different from Dean's; they were long, slow strokes. He catches you staring at him and smiles.

"I think you're supposed to be focused on Cas." Sam says smoothly , you turn your head back to face Cas."Open your mouth." Dean directs, Cas lays himself lightly on your tongue .

"She's so pretty like this Dean." Cas says staring down at you. You close your lips around him and begin to suck him off, he moans loudly.

"Even better than you thought it would be huh?" Sam laughs. You look up to see Dean kissing Cas above you and are instantly more turned on than you expected to be. You didn't know Dean was even remotely interested in men. Something about being completely unaware of his preferences made you so intrigued, he was like his father, unknowable but, in this way you knew more about him than any other hunter. You sped up on Cas's member and he moaned into Dean's lips. He couldn't take the pressure anymore, he explodes into your mouth with cries of "I'm cumming". Dean smiles at him but directs you to “stand up. I wanna taste him.” You get up and Dean immediately whirls you around shoving his tongue down your throat.He pulls away saying  "Give Cas sometime to recover sweetheart, go ride Sammy's dick." he smacks you on the ass as you saunter towards Sam. By this point he has completely undressed on your couch, he extends a hand towards you and helps you settle yourself on top of him. He runs a hand up your thigh and you see his eyes widen. 

" You're so wet from sucking Cas. Why is that?" he smiles, slowly narrowing his eyes. 

"Because she's a slut" Dean says as Sam sinks two fingers into you. Your breath hitches in your throat as you stare at Sam. 

"Is that what it is?" he asks, pulling his fingers out and lightly smacking your pussy."Are you a little slut?" He smacks again, harder this time." Yes-yes I'm little slut ." you voice says shakily, betraying you. "Come here." he motions, lowering you onto him. He gasps as you ride him, his fingers digging in deeper into your hips. You press down,staring into his eyes. He flips some hair from his face, and begins pushing into you faster. He brings a hand up to your face "You feel so good....wow." That was enough to send you over the edge, into spasm on Sam’s dick. 

"Can't keep it all to yourself Sammy." Dean growled from behind you. "Sam grabbed your hair, bringing your face closer to his "Say you want more." You moaned and nodded in response. "I said it." he pressed, you managed to get more of a grasp on your voice and said "I want more!" 

"Come here sweetheart." Dean called out from across the room, Sam pumped into you once more as hard as he could and then lifted you off of him, your legs were so wobbly you could barely stand. And you could fill the mix of the two of you sliding down your thighs. Dean must've noticed your unsteadiness and said "Don't walk''. You froze, looking up at him.Trying to follow the rules but, also knowing the need for your next orgasm would outweigh the want of the command especially, with the added bonus of bucking against Dean's dominance. His eyes looked from Sam, sweaty and spread out on the couch to Cas,who had barely managed to get himself back together after his last orgasm.

"See that's why I always liked you baby. You let the boys have their fun but, you know who's always gonna give you what you want." Your pupils blow out at that praise.He sets his eyes on you with a cold gaze.

”Crawl." he commands clear as day. Your body wanted to go to the floor anyway. You settle on your hands and knees and move slowly towards Dean. Placing one hand in front of the other, your knees dragging on the hardwood as you pass the skirt of your own christmas tree. "See that ass moving Sammy.That's why we love Mads, Cas. That's why."  You reached the space in front of Dean "Turn around."

You did as you were told so that your hands were laying flat on your rug on all fours, and you could feel as he got on his knees behind you and entered. You cried out immediately, his hand curled around your throat and as he lifted your chin Cas's dick came into view.Cas got on his knees in front of you Dean used his other hand to steady you and pull your hair turning your face up to meet Cas. "Kiss his it sweetheart" you lightly lay a peck on Cas's member, knowing it would immediately cause a rise in Dean. "Put your mouth around his pretty cock"he says lightly. You do as he says, Cas holding the back of your head as he pushes himself down your throat. "O you take him so good sweetheart. Swallow him.” he breathed“ You're such a good girl." You saw Sam's tall body come into frame,next to Cas."You're so good babygirl, you're taking me so well" he cooes. You can feel your core tightening and you worried that if you come another time you might break. Dean is fucking you hard now, strong , lustfilled pumps. "Cas come here." Dean calls"I want to watch you inside her.Dean pulls out of you only to be immediately replaced by Castiel's slow, agonizing strokes. Sam is smiling down on you and taking in the expanse of his naked body is enough to send you over the edge. You feel yourself clamping down on Cas and you cry out telling Dean that you can’t hold it any longer. "Cum for me baby." he commands "Come all over Cass, show him how much you like it." You scream out shivering over Cas's cock. The men give you a moment to recover then you feel Dean pulling you up. "Sit on your knees baby." his voice has softened now. "We're gonna come on you okay? Be a good girl and play with your tits for us. You follow his directions and before you know it all three are springing thick ropes of cum from their cocks, moaning in unison and screaming your name. The room falls quiet for a moment and all you can see are the warm lights of the christmas tree,your body immobilized and your brain flooding with serotonin. Dean gathers you in his arms and sits there holding you, telling you what a beautiful girl you are. Eventually, Sam emerges from your bathroom with a towel and both Sam and Cas clean you up wiping the sticky liquid from your body. Sam and Cas laid sprawled out on the floor, you curled in Dean's arms. Sam was propped against the foot of the couch, his hands in his hair as he stared up at the ceiling painting, Cas laid closer to you, his stomach facing the floor and his arms wrapped around a pillow as he looked up at Dean.  "Hey Cas." Dean gruffs looking in the direction of the floor.``Yeah?" Cas asks "Merry Christmas pal" Dean says extending an arm to slap Cas on the ass.  The room immediately erupts in laughter. I guess this really was all any of you had wished for.

[geesaotblog]

R E D

Levi Ackerman x Reader x Eren Jaeger (Implied) Levi Ackerman x Reader

Tags: Fingering, Back seat fraternization. CEO Levi Ackerman COO Eren Jaeger. Personal Assistant Reader. 18+. 

         “Oh, now that’s not fair.” Eren’s own dark voice practically rang through your ear while Levi’s hands trailed up your thighs, fingertips slipping past your dress. “Levi, do enough for the both of us.”

          “I do what I want,” Levi answered back haughtily, pupils blown out as he watched your lips part with heavy breaths.

           You couldn’t really blame Floch for his current actions. After all, this was a rather huge company party, and the opportunities that came with such an event were overflowing. First of all, the networking possibilities were endless. The big named corporate goons were flooding the large Victorian banquet hall that had been rented out and hosted by Ackerman Co., the second largest technological corporation in the states. Everyone who was anyone had attended, ready to mooch off of the billionaires that walked through those lavish ornate doors.

           Second of all, employees of Ackerman Co. were all invited, as per request from their generous CEO, Levi Ackerman. You hid a scoff behind the pristine wine glass that touched your painted red lips. Levi Ackerman. The man was anything but generous. He was short, rude, and irrationally anal about the most particular things. You should know—after all, you are his personal assistant.

           More like glorified cleaning monkey but you digress.

           Then there was Eren Jaeger, Levi’s own little pet project. Eren was a few years younger than Levi but was already being groomed to succeed the company. The two were around each other, practically feeding each other’s egos like the little power hungry mongrels they were.

           Well, Eren was feeding Levi’s ego. Levi’s only words of praise being thrown towards anyone were ‘Nice job, not fucking up the data transfer you complete walking pile of shit stains.’

           Isn’t he absolutely charming?

           The two were also unfairly gorgeous; Levi’s sharp chiseled face and built frame making up for the slight height imparity as well as Eren’s other worldly iridescent viridian eyes and long brunette locks that looked soft to the touch.

           God, what those eyes did to you.

           Being Levi’s personal assistant basically meant being Eren’s as well. Regardless of just how handsome those two were, it wouldn’t make up for the absolute hell they rained down on you with the way they overloaded you with work.

           Maybe you can blame Floch for trying to kiss up to Levi right now. It was pathetic, really. The bumbling idiot’s rambles were only irritating Levi and pissing Eren off which meant four glasses of wine for you to be able to deal with their moods.

           Then Eren’s eyes locked onto your frame from across the floor. You wanted to narrow your eyes in distaste, to scoff and turn away, to pretend you didn’t see him—but it was hard to when his towering frame looked so unfairly good in that black tux. That was another thing that wasn’t fair when it came to the way Levi and Eren treated you; the sharp gazes that promised unbearable pleasure every time they laid their eyes upon you were inappropriate. You should be more upset, angrier at the way they looked at you with such possessive fervent hunger within their eyes. But in the end, it only served to burn embers deep within the core of your stomach.

           You’ve spent countless nights alone in your bed getting off at the memory of those looks, off at the memory of Levi and Eren. It just wasn’t fair.

           If there was a better time to say eat the rich, it would be now.

           Before you could comprehend the slight gasps of the awestruck women beside you, Levi and Eren had walked across the floor standing right in front of you, ready to give you a migraine that would last a century.

           “, Well don’t you look pleasant, this evening.” Levi snarked, your last name pouring out of his mouth like sweet, warmed honey, dripping down the octave of his voice that continued to lower as he spoke to you. “Usually you look like you’re contemplating murdering us, brat.”

           Bristling immediately, you pursed your lips in a tight smile and tried to calm down. He always just got under your skin so quickly.

           “Mr. Ackerman, I’d rather not discuss such grim topics in the middle of a party.” You brought the glass up to your lips again, not once breaking eye contact with that gun-metal gaze and took a sip. “Let’s keep that within work hours.”

           Eren’s sudden airy laugh broke your staring contest with Levi, garnering attention from both you and the ebony haired man in front of you.

           “Now that’s the bite we remember,” Eren murmured, smile softening and eyes glazing over with something more primal. “I was almost worried the atmosphere was affecting your mood.”

           “You’re rather confident if you think that the atmosphere you two provide with your money has any effect on what my mood is.” You quipped back, feeling heat rise to your cheeks at the tone.

           “Oh, we’re positive that we can provide an entertaining atmosphere, definitely something that’ll keep you…coming back for more,” Levi said, tone husky and guttural feeding the warmth in your stomach a little more. You swallowed thickly, ignoring their desire filled expressions and reached down to tug at the bottom of your dress, hoping to cover a little more of your thighs and hide the any evidence of the arousal that came when you were in contact with the two.

           Eren’s hair, though pulled back into a slightly messy bun, still had a few strands peak out of the tie, framing his already symmetrical face and bringing out his prominent features. He ran a hand through those locks, pushing them back as he looked down at you like some sort of animal ready to strike down on its prey.

           Levi was no different, more reserved than Eren, but his eyes held a deep promise of toe-curling ecstasy.

           You hated those two.

           Finishing your glass of wine as quickly as you could, you placed the empty cup on a passing waiter’s tray, fumbling with a hasty response and trying your damned best to get the fuck out of there. “Well, this was a lovely conversation, but I really should head back home for the night. I wouldn’t want to be late to work because of—”

           “Because of us.” Levi cut off. You pursed your lips at the implication behind his words and slowly nodded, unable to deny them.

           “Yes, because of you two.” You cleared your throat and tightened your grip on your clutch. “Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

           “Let us drop you off.” Eren offered, smiling almost childishly, throwing you off completely from the tension that had been building up between you three. “It wouldn’t be right to just let you take a cab on your own. And it seems like you had a little too much to drink so driving is out of the question.”

           Alone. Inside of a car. With Eren and Levi. You were slightly tipsy, but you also weren’t stupid.

           “No, I couldn’t impose—”

           “You’re not imposing, brat.” Levi tutted out, digging through his jacket pocket for his keys before tossing them at Eren who caught them easily. “Come on. We’re driving you home.”

           Eren sent another smile your way before gently laying a hand on the small of your back, the large encompassing palm warming the bare skin there but not at all inching any lower as to respect your boundaries. Him and Levi led you out before you could utter another word of protest and your mind was reeling with so many possibilities of just where this drive could end up.

           No, you stated sternly in your mind, chastising yourself for your indecent thoughts. You are not sleeping with the boss and the boss’s protégé. Or one. Or the other. Or—why has god forsaken me.

           You wanted to throw a tantrum at the fact that two delectable pieces of meat were hanging right there, right in front of you, but morally you understood that wouldn’t be right at all.

           Accepting your fate, you decided to just be pressed against the side door in the back seat of the car for the entire ride, hoping to avoid any inappropriate interaction with the two. As you walked between them outside into the slightly chilly night air, you saw Floch standing by the drink table, looking absolutely furious as if he was trying to bore holes into your very innocent skull.

           Hiding a smirk, you straightened your back and walked towards the black lavish vehicle, feeling much better from seeing Floch’s annoying little gerbil face scrunch up in envy.

           Oh yeah, that was nice.

           Rather chivalrously, Eren opened the back door for you, sending you another cute smile—damn him—before shutting it and stepping to the driver’s seat. You let out a small breath of relief. Good, this way Levi and Eren can sit in the front and you would be content, unbothered and definitely not sexually frustrated in the back.

           But then the sound of the door on your other side closing was heard and you turned to see Levi right next to you instead of in the passenger’s side like he should have been.

           “Um, sir.” You inhaled shakily. “I’ll be alright in the back alone, you don’t need to sit beside me—”

           “Oh, I don’t ever remembering doing something I didn’t want to.” Levi hummed back sarcastically, raising an arched brow at you cockily. If you hadn’t found the look to be so attractive, you would have shoved his face in the car seat in front of you.

           Saying nothing back, you sat still, hand curled in your lap and knees tucked together as you watched Eren start the car and begin driving to your destination.

           It was almost too quiet, only Eren’s off tune humming filling the tense heavy air while you tried to ignore Levi’s body heat radiating off to your side. Ignore him, ignore him, ignore him—you continued to chant that mantra in your head, thinking of anything but the fact that Levi’s hands were laying so close to your bare thighs. The scent of heady, almost sweet black tea touched the tips of your taste buds, the aroma of Levi’s cologne so strong it was enveloping more than one of your senses and it was addicting.

           No, you scolded yourself immediately, biting hard on your bottom lip as you clutched the ends of your dress unforgivingly. Do not go there.

           Unfortunately, because you were chewing so harshly onto the abused appendage, the sudden pothole that Eren ran through caused you to jump and bite down on your lip harder than before making you gasp in pain. You let the plush, swollen skin fall out from between your teeth, touching it tenderly and wincing in pain.

           “You fucking idiot.” Levi hissed towards Eren, grabbing your waist seeing as you had also unintentionally leaned onto him at the same time. “Watch where you’re fucking driving!”

           “Hey, don’t get mad at me! Get mad at city funding!”

           You giggled at Eren’s indignant remark, not minding the soothing rubs of Levi’s surprisingly large hands that grazed your back. “I’m okay.” You sighed out. “Definitely city funding’s fault.”

           Eren shot you an apologetic smile through the rear view mirror before looking back at the road and driving much slower than before.

           “Here let me see,” Levi murmured your name softly, uncharacteristically gentler than you thought was possible, and pinched your chin between his thumb and index finger. He turned your face towards him, nose only inches away from your own but not at all seeming to mind it as he ran his calloused thumb across the bruised skin of your bottom lip.

           “You shouldn’t be biting on it.” Levi mumbled, voice low and filled with something you couldn’t describe. His eyes trailed back up to lock with your own and you held your breath, those silver irises always muddling your brain and turning your head into mush. “Look how red it is.”

           “I-It’s fine—” You gasped as Levi practically yanked you onto his lap, your knees resting on either side of his waist. “Mr. Ackerman!” You yelled affronted, blush painting your skin as his breath fanned the sides of your neck making you tremble in unprecedented delight.

           “Oh, now that’s not fair.” Eren’s own dark voice practically rang through your ear while Levi’s hands trailed up your thighs, fingertips slipping past your dress. “Levi, do enough for the both of us.”

           “I do what I want,” Levi answered back haughtily, pupils blown out as he watched your lips part with heavy breaths. You squirmed on his lap, trying to simultaneously get away from his ministrations as well as provide friction to your slick cunt.

           “Mr. Ackerman we can’t.” You whined out, rather embarrassingly loud as Levi began to lay wet open mouthed, strategic, kisses onto the supple skin of your exposed neck.

           “I don’t tend to take orders really well,” He sneered huskily, your last name added with the formal ‘Ms.’ prefix making your already racing heartbeat against your chest. He pushed the edges of your dress past your hips, exposing your black lace panties that were damp with arousal.

           The alcohol must be getting to you because this can’t be okay.

           His thumbs traced the edges of you’re the lace frills that your panties had adorned on them—they were cheap and cute from Burlington. You had no idea that anyone, let alone your boss would be seeing you in them. But here you are. You were really thanking your past self for thinking of you now.

           “Do you want me to make you feel good?” Levi asked, teasing the edges of your inner thighs but never reaching that one place, making your pussy throb in need. “Answer me,”

           “Yes,” You choked out desperately, moving your hips in slow deliberate circles, grinding your wet heat onto his slacks, dampening them with your slick. You were so shameless, but it didn’t seem like Levi minded. In fact, judging by the cruel smirk on his face, he was having the time of his life.

           “Beg.”

           You stopped immediately, eyes widened as you looked down at Levi to see if there were any signs of him joking anywhere. But he only stared back at you, stern and unmoving, hands slowly inching away from where you needed him most. You could feel your eyes dampen in embarrassment and desperation, a tiny mewl escaping your lips as you tried to grab his hands and bring them back. But his strength was unmatched, arms unmoving even with your insistent budging.

           “You heard him, baby,” Eren’s heavy voice sending shivers down your spine. “Beg.” The command wasn’t any less powerful even though you couldn’t see him, and you let out a whimper, grinding your hips in slow circles, hoping to entice Levi into taking action.

           “P-Please,” You gasped out, face heating up at the admission. All this time you had sworn you would never bow down to money or reputation, but this kind of power was something that Levi and Eren were born with—you were sure of it. “Please, touch me.”

           “Touch you where?” Levi’s hands moved back to cup your aching folds, making you gasp and thrust your hips into the touch. “Tell me.”

           “Fuck—Levi, please just—make me cum with your fingers, touch my cunt please.” You sobbed, pressing your lips together at the humiliation and arousal that came with submitting to such a man.

           “Good girl.” Levi husked out appraisingly, finally, finally, pulling the fabric of your panties aside and pushing his thumb to rub up against your folds towards your clit, rubbing the throbbing area with slow deliberate pressure. You moaned, the sounds coming out of you so wanton and erotic, you almost couldn’t believe that they came out of you. Your eyes fluttered shut at the pleasure of Levi’s skilled fingers, pressing in and out of you, rubbing your damp walls and eliciting more of your slick out of you, dampening your inner thighs with the obscene liquid.

           Each heavy thrust, each beckoning motion that he did inside of you, only served to abuse that one spot, making you see stars behind your eyelids.

           “Yeah,” You moaned out, leaning your forehead against his as he continued to play with your soaked pussy. “That’s so…ah…good—!” You cut yourself off, a sudden shriek spilling from your lips as Levi curled his fingers, pressing hard against your bundle of nerves while pressing his wet thumb against your abused clit. It was electrifying, the heat boiling from your legs, up to your stomach and straight to your head making you unable to think properly let alone comprehend the salacious praises that you cried out towards Levi.

           You wanted to rip away from that feeling. It was so terrifying the way that sharp coil tightened your insides and tore you apart with each push and pull of Levi’s skilled hands. It wasn’t fair. You had never reached the brink so quickly with someone before but within seconds you were putty in Levi’s hands.

           “Look at me,” Levi ordered, sharply using your name in his command and using his free hand to pull your face towards him. “Look at me when you cum.”

           You must have made such a sight. Debauched and ruined at the hands of your boss. But you couldn’t say you minded as one final purposeful shove of his fingers going knuckle deep inside of you sent you over the edge and into euphoria.

           Your thighs quacked in overstimulation as you tried to muffle a scream by crashing your lips against Levi’s who met your desperation with his own starved mouth. The messy kiss helped ease your orgasm and ride the pleasurable waves down to a dwindling content buzz.

           Pulling out his fingers with an almost sickening squelch, Levi eyed them with disgust mixed with a bit of arousal, before moving them towards your lips. He pried your lips open with his slick covered fingers, making you taste your own essence, shoving them inside your mouth unforgivingly. You shuddered at the strong taste but made no effort to disobey his unspoken orders, licking each appendage clean with your tongue.

           “If you think we’re done with you, you got another thing coming.” Levi growled darkly, groping and massaging your thigh while trailing his fingers out of your mouth down your chin, creating a thin line of saliva mixed with come down your jaw.

           “By the way,” Eren turned in his seat, facing both you and Levi with a sharp, toothy smirk. “We’re here. It’s my turn.”

           Judging by the look on Eren’s face, the night was far from over.

[twokinkybeans]

Daddy Ain’t So Tough [Starker]

Summary: Sometimes, the word Daddy doesn't necessarily mean you're the one in charge. Or: In which Peter and Tony explore their new little fantasies. Warnings/tags: Nff, smut, incest play/kink, daddy kink, daddy!Tony, bottom!Tony, sub!Tony, top!Peter, dom!Peter, restraints / light bondage, begging & teasing. Notes: HI DEARS! This idea has been in my head for quite a while now and I am so excited that I finally wrote it! PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS/TAGS CAREFULLY. There's some kinks in there not everyone might enjoy. If you do like it, please do continue :) :) <3 And thank y'all for your neverending support! -Kim

Read here on AO3!!

-

“Daddy,” Peter giggles as he straddles Tony’s hips. He trails his fingers down the man’s gorgeous chest. It’s everything Peter could’ve ever dreamed about- even if he hadn’t done it consciously so. The arc reactor is fascinating to him, as are the scars scattered around it. Obviously, the hard lines of the man’s abs are very welcome too. God, he looks so handsome and strong.

“Peter, fuck-” Tony mutters under his breath. Peter simply smirks and he lowers his full weight onto the man’s crotch, causing Tony’s lips to part in a silent gasp. Yeah. Handsome, strong, and entirely Peter’s

It’s only very recently that they made this, eh, discovery. It’s a weird power shift. Contradictory, even. Yet, the shared pleasure shortcircuits their minds more than they’ve ever experienced before. Nothing’s ever been missing, but this? This is a whole new layer Peter aches to delve into.

“‘M gonna fuck you so good, Daddy. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To be ruined by me?” “Yes, baby boy,” Tony lets out a breathy moan. “I’m so ready for you.” The older man tugs on his restraints in a desperate attempt to lay his hands on the striking, youthful body on top of him. With his 22 years old, Peter is absolutely breathtaking. Strong, ripped muscles to hold him down as no one else ever had. His legs tremble at the mere thought. “Petey- please.”

“Mmmmmh- that’s more like it.” Peter puts his hands down right next to Tony’s head and leans in to kiss the man’s warm lips. Peter moans when Tony is eager enough to immediately take a chance and suck Peter’s lower lip into his mouth. His cock twitches against Tony’s stomach and a hot surge of arousal courses right through him. Fuck. Fuck. Tony - ever-in-control-I’ll-handle-this-myself-Tony - is the neediest sub Peter ever imagined possible. “Nu-uh, Daddy, don’t get ahead of yourself now-” Peter murmurs and pulls back, smirking at Tony’s subconscious attempt to sneak in one more chaste kiss. Peter sits up straight, his hands finding their way to Tony’s hard chest again. His fingertips brush past the man’s soft nipples, earning him a loud groan. “So hot,” Peter whispers gently. He scoots down a little, now sitting on the man’s thighs, and he leans in again. “Bet you’ve been thinking about my dick in your ass all day, uh?” He sucks Tony’s right nipple into his mouth. No longer soft, nor gentle, but sucking harshly. Tony’s hips buck up wildly.  “God-fucking-” “Now, now,” Peter laughs, letting go of the nipple and hovering over the left one. Still awfully untouched. “Didn’t think you’d be this filthy when you raised me.”

There. He did it. He crossed the line again.

Peter looks up and swallows, checking quickly if Tony’s still up for- well… This. Tony’s cheeks flush a bright red and he bites down his bottom lip. He stares right back at Peter- also checking up on the younger boy. They’re still treading new grounds, new fantasies, something neither of them dares to admit out loud just yet. “Well? Did you think you’d be laying here, legs spread wide, for me? What would people think uh?” “Peter-” “Well?” “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck.” Tony babbles, his fingers trembling as he clenches them together. Tony is aware that he has to cue Peter to go on. That he wants in fact pretend to be Peter’s actual Daddy. It’s so hard to say it, though. It’s so awfully wrong and yet his dick aches with want. Peter looks down at him, eyes dark and expectant- waiting for a sign.

“If I raised you so well,” he breathes shakingly, “-then why aren’t your fucking your old man just yet?” Peter scoffs, cocking an eyebrow at him. His eyes are twinkling though, teasing and cunning and Tony whimpers quietly.  “You need it that bad, eh?” “Yes. Baby yes.” 

After that everything turns hazy for Peter. He growls low in his throat and crawls even further down, kneeling in between Tony’s legs and spreading them apart until the tip of his cock brushes against Tony’s already slick and prepped hole.  “All those times you punished me,” Peter rushes out, not knowing where the words come from but they feel so right. “Now you ain’t so tough.” “Just take me, kid.”

Peter doesn’t waste a damn second and he pushes inside without remorse, replacing the heat his fingers had been at a few minutes before. Tony’s eyes screw shut and Peter relishes in the feeling of this handsome, powerful man becoming such a proud bottom underneath his touch. He digs his fingers into Tony’s thighs, lifting his boyfriend’s legs up until they’re wrapped around his waist. God, Tony’s so warm and soft and tight and Peter bites back a pathetic whimper as he inches forward even more- the new position allowing him to slide in deeper.  “Call me that again,” Peter groans demandingly. “Wanna hear you lose it for me.” He draws back slightly, now gripping at Tony’s round ass and pushes in again with such force that Tony shifts upwards in the sheets. Peter’s still holding back, not using all his Spider powers, but some. Enough to make Tony’s eyes roll back. “Please, please kiddo, fuck your Daddy.” This time, Peter can’t help the high-pitched noise escaping his throat. He thrusts forward harsh- again and again and again. His movements accompanied by the loud and suspicious creaking of his small single bed and Tony’s choked off moans as pleasure washes over his lover’s face. Peter’s cock almost hurts with how badly he wants to release himself. Fill up the man’s ass with his cum. He wants to claim him, take charge.

Every single drag back and forth has him see stars. Peter’s breath hitches in his throat and he ignores the light burn at his knees where it creates friction with the sheets. It only makes him more feral. More possessive. More… In charge. Nothing else matters right now. All that matters is the sweet melody of Peter’s name falling from Tony’s lips over and over again. The burning pit deep in his stomach grows higher and bigger- warning Peter he’s going tip over that very edge soon. “Daddy, f- ah! Look at you, legs spread wide for your own blood. Fucking filthy, and you even like it- don’t you?” Peter chokes out. “Does it feel good knowing that you no longer own me?” “K-kid-” “Not anymore, not anymore. Tony.” 

Peter reaches down and curls his fingers around the thick, hot shaft of Tony’s cock. He squeezes, wants to drag his hand down and- “Aaah! P-Peter! Fuck don’t stop don’t stop dont-” Tony’s words turn into an incomprehensible string of syllables as white-hot come rains down onto his own chest. Peter watches in awe how the man’s face contorts with pleasure and a hint of blissful shame. His tight hole clenches around Peter’s still aching cock- and every fiber of his being wants to enjoy the same overwhelming euphoria. He quickly scans Tony’s face once, not sensing a hint of discomfort as he speeds up his thrusts. Not in the slightest. “Peter yes please fuck me through it. Show your Daddy how it’s done.”

Peter whines and drops his head forward. Curls stick to his forward where a sheen of sweat had gathered. He’s gonna burst. He can’t hold it back. Not even if he wanted to. His primal instincts have taken full charge of his body and he pounds into the slick heat beneath him until finally, his mind blanks out when filthily sweet sensations shake him to his core. He spills inside of Tony, feels how his cum mixes with the now warm lube. How Tony clenches around him to not lose a single fucking drop.  Peter lets out a shaky laugh, in complete wonderment of how good this can feel. How much better this is than his own hand ever had been. And when finally, after what seems to be infinity, his eyes flutter open; he’s met with the deep, loving brown eyes of the man he’s been able to call his lover for the past three and a half years. 

“Peter,” Tony whispers, body limp and soft and spent. Arching into Peter’s warmth. Peter cracks a smile and carefully lets go of Tony’s legs, leaning down to cover the man’s body with his own. Their legs tangle together while Peter’s cock softens inside of the man. He doesn’t care it’ll make a mess. Peter hums quietly and grabs his blanket to pull it on top of them.  “Tony,” Peter whispers back. Tony smiles, suddenly shy. A feature that will always leave Peter amazed. “Was that too much?” Peter asks. Not out of insecurity, but because he wants to gauge how his boyfriend has experienced it. Tony chuckles, turning his gaze sideways. “No.” He pauses and shakes his head. “That was… Perfect.” “Yes,” Peter agrees. His hands gently massaging their way up Tony’s arms to undo the restraints. “I really, really, liked it too.” “The whole kid thing hit home, uh?” “Fuck yes,” Peter grins. “It’s so… You. But also a good different. It makes it feel natural even when it’s play.” “Agreed.”

Tony groans when he finally lowers his arms now that he is no longer tied to the headboard. His arms wrap around Peter’s shoulders, gently caressing him. Peter smiles, his cock now slipping out of Tony fully, and he nuzzles his face against the man’s neck to nib at the skin there. “You sore?” “If I say yes, will you treat me with a back rub and hot chocolate later?” “Of course,” Peter teases along. Tony beams and nods. “Yes. Very, very sore.” “Turn around then.” “Yes, kid.”

[btswishes]

Love me for who I am now

Bucky x Reader ( Chapter 3)

Previous / Next (4)

Summary: You apply for the Stark internship and end up getting it, so now you have 5 months to make a good impression to continue working with the Avengers.

A/N: Ok Chapter 3 here we go, things are moving 10 000+ words later XD. Sorry for any mistakes made, hope you enjoy it even a tiny bit.

Word count:  3,997

Warmings: fights, harsh language, not part of the original MCU

Y/N- Your name

Y/L/N- Your Last Name

Tag list: @vicmc624​

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

   Two men dressed in dark fancy suits helped Captain America sit on the bench next to Dr. Banner, while one more presumably, also an agent rolled in 2 stretchers. From the voices you could distinguish Natasha Romanoff and Sergeant James Barnes. Not too far, with a confidant step followed Tony Stark keeping the splint around his left hand, covered slightly by the expensive material of his jacket - throw casually over his shoulders. Poor Pepper having her husband come home almost dead all the time- must be just awful.

“What happened?” Bruce barked out intensely checking Natasha in a hastily manner, making sure there wasn’t anything too major

 “HYDRA fed us the wrong information, long story short caught the link in time and no one died.” Tony explained, pulling a squished protein bar from the inside of his pant pocket

“I almost saw the light for a second time Tony.” Captain hissed when you began disinfecting his wounds, reacting to the cold cooling yet irritating feeling of the clear liquid on the cotton ball.

“I am sure that was the explosion.” Natasha snickered at the blond man. ”Next time don’t look at it, ok?” One after the other injured agents flooded the lab making motion difficult. Most of the equipment was on the other end of the packed room. Talking and a mix of incoherent sounds filled your head, causing you to go into overdrive. You had no idea how people could work in such an environment. Hospital work was part of your curriculum, as weird as it sounded, since you were dabbling in human body functions. Even there you never had so many people on your head, there was order- obviously lacking here.

  Some were very badly injured, near-death was a correct way to say it, but for sure not 90%. Looking around you couldn’t find a shorter way towards the bandages and irrigation solution. Tables and people were placed like chess pieces in a game you were losing because of panic. Tony kept his eyes on you, biting down on the crumpling snack, waiting to see what you would do. It could have been all a test for what you knew, yet it flew over your head.

“Dr. Banner.” You yelled out patching up the Cap and moving onto one of the stretchers “Can you pass me the small bag behind you please?” he nodded and did it all without even taking a look away from Natasha’s wounds. Professional or just slightly overconfident?

  Rising your right hand you caught the bag making its way towards you. The flap flung open and you pulled out the 4 bottles of vibranium dust onto the table, right next to you. A hair tie emerged from the same place shortly after. Bucky looked up at the changing expression on your face, interested in silence maybe also in a bit of pain. Your fingers raked up your scalp, gathering as much hair as possible to imprison with the elastic. Tony ever so silent but focused, a good judge of character.

  The lids of the bottles rolled onto the desk, discarded without a thought. Your hands cupped all of them and spilling piles of metallic dust on the floor. Stark rose an eyebrow and stopped chewing for a second. Taking a deep breath the oxygen gathered all your thoughts into an anxiety suppressing pill, shooting in waves through your bloodstream. You didn’t waste any time, your eyelids swung up letting your lashes almost hit your brows. Both your elbows bent in, positioning themselves next to your waist line snugly. You could feel your back muscles clench and tighten before extending. They shot your arms to the sides, dust cloud forming two plates pushing agents to the side. 

“SILANCE!” the room granted your wish, even the atoms could be heard moving with the shock engulfing the field “This is a lab NOT a playground! If you are able to cause such ruckus you aren’t hurt enough to be here. If any of you insist on doing this, I will give you a reason to scream. If you are patched up leave! Got a paper cut or bruise- leave! Unless you crawl to me, I don’t want to see you.” hunched over your body didn’t move from its metal bending pose, arms spread like a bird in flight, eyes looking forward “Now, out.” the words vibrated fearless in your throat

  It wasn’t surprising that almost all people in black suits left in a rush, accept some that were actually getting treated from the mission. Sergeant Barnes was still laying on the stretcher waiting for his turn, taken back from the scene that unraveled above him. Almost in a Dr. Strange hand motion you pulled the vibranium back.

  The silence continued making your confidence evaporate and let the anxiety condensate back into you. Eyes roaming around the room till a loud and audible clap pulled the strings of your head towards it. Tony was doing his best not to mess his arm up more, but to him this deserved praise.

“Well done Miss inter, I am pleasantly surprised with your actions…” his footsteps creeped up, letting his body lean onto Bucky’s current bed, ignoring the man’s grunt of discomfort “…and that.” his finger made circles pointing at your arms covered with the metallic dust shaped slightly like a gauntlet

“It’s amazing isn’t it?” Banner, back still facing the rest of the room, scoffed proud like a father witnessing his child’s grades 

“You know about it?” Tony crushed up the plastic of the protein bar, tossing it in the trash in the corner of the room

“Yeah.” The doctor was finishing up with Natasha “We were actually talking about that with her before you rushed in. I was lucky enough to get a special demonstration as well.”

“So what is it Miss intern ?” his head tilted, showing a new angle of his goatee

  It didn’t take you long to notice that the sergeant couldn’t get up because he was shot pretty badly. Your desk had turned into a makeshift surgical table with all kinds of things on it - soon to be used. One of the gauntlets flew off your soft skin and pulled up the soldier like he was made of feathers. The wound seemed to be closing up fast, the super serum did give him abnormal healing. This was proof that not everything is a good thing. The bullet was still lodged inside his body, which wasn’t the optimal place for foreign matter.

“It’s vibranium dust. I am sure Mr. Stark knows about it. It was in my application papers.” You began disinfecting the area, applying a small dose of lidocaine onto the open cut, just to numb it as much as possible. Somehow you didn’t want this man to feel any more pain that he already had endured, past or present moment.

“You did, about it being inside the body not throwing it like the pissed off Sand man.” The ever so playful with words Tony ladies and gentlemen 

“I might have skipped one or two parts, but they were something I was experimenting with on the side and not on the subject I was offering.” The vibranium took the elegant shape of a sharp scalpel. With a light hand, the pressure made the blade disappear into Bucky’s skin, making a big enough incision. Tweezers fit inside snugly, pulling out the bullet that looked almost destroyed in his body. “ This batch is under my willful control.”

“Transmitter?” Tony’s eyes went over your whole body trying to find something, still consciously making a mental mark, on the little knife you manifested from basically a pile of metal “Doesn’t look like they are voice triggered .”

“The only transmitter is my brain waves.” Placing your fingers over a cup of rubbing alcohol, you dropped in the tweezers and the scalpel, now turned into the same shiny mass as it was originally in its own jar “ Quantum engineered with quarks made from my own tissues.”

“Ssss.” The hissing sound that came out from in-between Tony’s teeth as he took a sharp breath in, send chills down his own back “Masochist aren’t you. Hey, we don’t kink shame here sweetie, don’t worry.” A playful wink flew towards you “Y/N right?” your head nodded, hands putting things in their original place, trying to give the room back its original look “Nice nice. Welcome to the team, glad to have you. Seems like you chose Banner to start off your training. I am deeply offended .” a big hand grabbed onto the fabric over his heart, in the most theatrical way possible “Most people go for the playboy billionaire. I guess not everyone has good taste, don’t worry I will fix it.” 

“Excuse me?” training? Well that definitely was NOT in the list of activities for you internship “Ugh…”

“Sweet cheeks, you didn’t thought I would give access to Avengers information just like that to an intern?” he scoffed at exactly what you were thinking. The rest of the members were observing the situation from the sidelines. It wasn’t yet their time to jump in.

“Look.” His thigh went over the desk, sitting half way onto it, head crooked at you. Tony was focused on the ever so slightly changing lines of your face. He wasn’t the only one holding a breath in in expectation “I went over you application, I was taken back by your idea. It was so outside the box I am kinda jelly I didn’t come up with it. Some more digging here and there... turns out joining my university was done on a whim - second shot to the heart sweetie.” his fingers back onto his chest next to the reactor core “ Lack of history before that, no future ambitions whatsoever. Heck -” Tony’s body slid off the hard flat surface, fixing the jacket slipping off his shoulder. His back was facing you as he began walking towards the exit “ Even your professors were worried about you- gave them a lil call. I just saw a bright cookie I wanted, so I got you.” With a sideways, look he smirked almost like a cat playing with a mouse

“And I plan to keep you here one way or the other, so I offer you this.” Arms spread sideways, garment now resting on the floor, gathering the dust and dirt from all the shoes in here previously “Training, knowledge and access to tech you would never have even in university or the government. Your choice. Become someone who you used to look up to, or go back after the end of your internship.”

  Your eyes moved from the floor, slowly towards his jacket, over it and straight up his body. The breath lodged inside your throat began moving in and out unnoticeable. The two super soldiers could practically hear you inhaling a storm around yourself and Natasha read your body language. To all of them you were as simple as an open brochure. Tony knew, he was just waiting for the moment you crack under. You were but a pile of clay with astonishing properties, ready to be turned into anything.

“I did apply to Stark university as a last choice. BUT! I applied to this internship for the sole reason of doing nothing but the best to build up a reputation and secure a position in the future.” Your voice snuck out from between your soft lips as a rising in octaves whisper. As confidence began to accumulate so did the need for you to prove your qualities “Even if you didn’t tell me this Mr. Stark, I would have still whipped my success onto your face. There is something I just gotta know.”

  The loud laugh echoing from inside his voice box made your whole body flinch, a blink opening your eyes wide simultaneously. “That is my girl! Exactly what I wanted to hear from you. I knew I chose you very very well. And call me Tony, I am not that old yet for Mr.” his heels swung his body like a ballerina to face you for a bit “ First round you have with green angry guy over there. Banner seems to like you already, but I want to see how true those PE grades of yours are. I expect you to take the gym in the building as serious as the rest do, little smarty pants. I would say don’t disappoint, but that look in your eyes shows me you don’t need cheesy lines. ”

  It felt like time froze the moment the owner of the building stepped out of the lab. The heartbeat in your ears was the only thing counting down the seconds passing by you, before a big and firm arm rested onto your right shoulder. Neck cracked a bit looking up at the huge yet gentle owner. He flashed you a smile almost as bright as his blonde hair.

“He tends to mess with newcomers, don’t worry your head about it too much. Was like that with me too.” Captain America looked down at Bucky and then back at you “I leave my oldie here with you, make sure you take good care of him. “

“Thank you sir.” You blurred out, out of respect towards your childhood hero and probably one of the few people who you felt you could talk casually with out side of ‘work’

“Please, call me Steve. Even if you are a baby to the group, you are still an Avenger in training so, no need for formalities with us.”  With a gentle patting motion he pushed himself off you and in the direction of his own room. ”Don’t stay too long and forget to eat, I know how you science people get.”

  Natasha jumped off the stretcher and groaned out, trying to reposition the shoulder that once more was part of her body and not just hanging by muscles and tissues.

“See you later.” She flashed you a smile, red locks of hair dancing like fire around her “Neighbor.” The word sung out playfully, in a teasing big sister manner

“You staying behind for the usual check up?” Bruce’s voice cracked, waves directed towards the super soldier sitting on the stretcher next to you.

“Yeah.” The word bass low almost pushed his head to the side, but he stopped half way- direction opposite from you

“Y/N would you be a dear and do it for me? I have to go and get Clint his meds.” His thin figure skillfully snaked around tables, chairs and desks out of the room - door sliding closed behind him. You could hear the pressured air whistled inside from the movement.

  Pushing the screen over to the Sergeant’s body made you paused. The scanner caught easily the interference caused by his weapons, plastered over his body in bondage style belts and bags.

“Um, you will have to take those off. Sorry.” Your voice but a whisper that only his super senses could catch. With a nod he reach up to the clasp. The straps were pushing into his strong and muscular body so much, the moment he pressed the button they popped off with a jump, landing onto this pectorals seconds later. As much as you tried to stay professional, your eyes kept drifting over his body. Bucky looked huge compared to the TV version of him. Everyone knew he was experimented on by HYDRA and made into an enhanced human, but this man was a walking tank. His biceps and thighs waiting to just bust out of the fabric. Going wide, your eyes connected with your brain, realizing you were practically having weird thoughts over an injured person. Shaking out of it, you pulled back.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. ?” calling out, the interface answered practically before you could finish saying the name

Yes Miss.

“Do a standard scan and a nerve check please.”

Shall I send the results to your tablet?

“Yes, thank you.” The sound of the machine turning on led you to pull the flat screen and look at the image developing as pixels. Bucky’s body didn’t move, a bolder just sitting there and waiting. Yet his eyes caught a glimpse of your body slowly leaning onto the desk, focused on your work, unintentionally exposing your neck to him - the shapes your curves made. Somehow he couldn’t avert his gaze even if his head was empty from thoughts.

Done

“Ok...” the letters were prolonged. Biting your nail you noticed the inflamed nerve on his shoulder, pinched between his metal arm and the flesh of his body. “ Any shoulder pain?” you wanted him to say it, not you showing it

“None that I know of.” He responded, voice like thick caramel- sweet. Breathy as it was, the sigh left your mouth open, pulling your eyelids down over your irises. Your hips pushed you away from the desk and over to his left side. The cold vibranium under your touch felt refreshing. Soon as you found the spot, just the slightest pressure made him grunt.

“Hm.”an amused smirk followed the huff of air through your nose “Well I am sure this is something you know of.” Bucky kept his serious face, looking forward and not acknowledging the pain you pulled out of his extremity “Sergeant Barnes, come on.” He didn’t budge nor would he any time soon and you knew that without a verbal answer or marker

 Inhaling some air, you prepared yourself for a conversation that might just jab at more than his inflamed nerve. It could or couldn’t end up with you dead, but you weren’t getting anywhere with this. Pulling the chair on one leg, you swung it over standing directly in front of the tense man. It was time for a confrontation that no one wanted. With a push of your coat you sat down, crossing your legs and leaning onto the knee, elbow to palm.

“Look, I may not be the best person to have this conversation with or anywhere close to that, but you really need to start opening up at least to the people that care about you. Steve ‘cough cough’.”

  Bucky was still jumping from object to object but staying away from you “Keep your secrets to yourself soldier. Fighting inner demons and past trauma that you don’t even remember is hell, but that doesn’t mean you have to suffer on the outside too. No one would think of you any less if you said ‘hey my shoulder hurt’.” Leaning onto the chair’s back you let your head fall towards the wood behind . Diverting your physical eye contact let him eye you comfortably.

“What would you know about that?” ok he spoke, defensive and aggressive but progress- we are making it

“I don’t, I never said I did. If I could experience what you have, I would do it to understand you.” Side to side your head rubbed over the backrest, little splints tugging on your hair “Trust me, I would make this whole situation a lot better.”

“Is this part of your internship or something?” his words pulled your teeth to your bottom lip, squeezing away gently the remark you wished to make. Maybe a bit of Tony was rubbing off onto you.

“Babysitting problematic kids?” head shot up, as your fingers found your chin, placing your whole demeanor into a thinking position “No, I don’t think so.I don’t tend to brats, not my forte.”

“You seem to let your lips lose in bad situations.” Oh now, now he was mad. “Might end up biting you in the ass later.” You didn’t need superpowers or the bp of his heart to deduce it. Since we jumped over the acceptable line by a mile, no need to turn back now. There is one way to deal with an ass and that was bite back harder.

“Sorry for not walking on eggshells around you. Sergeant Barnes.” You saluted him in a mocking way, leaning back in the chair, basically feeling the waves of anger directed towards you. If this was the Winter Soldier he would have bitten off my throat, disgraceful. - the contractions of your lungs stopped at that thought, so rude...so you? Almost like you knew him personally. Ok, ok time to cool down before something happens.

“How do you expect me to help you if you don’t throw me a bone?” you sighed, feeling still how angry Bucky was about the whole conversation and situation in general. You were in the same headspace, if not in a weird yet familiar one” If the arm hurts, let people help, heck ask Dr. Banner or Tony.” It still felt weird using their first names - energizing no doubt

“They don’t understand, never will, nor will you.” This grown man was acting like a child, like the world didn’t have people who had similar levels of stress in their life. It was slowly crawling up your nerves and igniting a fire that could, if unleashed, burn him down so fast, only the metal arm would be left. But you tried to stay cool and calm, be the adult.

“Fine, do what you want.” Your body shot up as you threw your hands even higher. The lab coat fixed itself back onto you, fingers rubbing the back of your neck. The man sat there hunched over, arm stinging with the most dumbfounded look he could plaster over his stoic façade. “You can go, but if you don’t fix it you will be a burden on the next mission.” And you threw the hook, now all good ol’Bucky had to do is bite and this would be all over in the nick of time. There was a room with your name on it, calling.

  You waited and waited till you noticed the stars pocking inside from the window. Head moving towards your clock made you realize that it was already 9pm. With a jump in your step you pulled all the vibranium back in its original comfy home and inside the space in your new desk. Whipping dust off tech and trying to organize your papers, completely ignoring the tantrum little boy pretty close by.

“Fine.” Bucky’s voice was louder and deeper than before

“What?” your neck tugged on the muscles, letting you look at him with an unbothered look swimming around in your eyes.

“I said fine.Do what you gotta do.” And the verbal consent was given on a whim. Joy filled you up knowing you wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore. All happened in a blink of an eye - arms wrapping around his, a sudden loud and painful swing leading to the crack of his whole metallic prosthetic. This was probably the first time you saw such an expression on his face. His brain now activated to deference mode, reached to grab your neck. Any normal person would piss their pants, but you tried to stay calm. Tapping his wrist you played a small echoing sound, when his eyes landed on the full extension and rotation of his arm.

  The accumulating pressure left his muscles as it showed on his face. Bucky’s eyes were wide, roaming over his arm with the speed of light, pulling a light cough out of your throat.

“Sorry. “ he pulled back instantly.

“I just repositioned your arm you big brute. Next time swing gentle, no need to go through walls.” Palming your neck you pointed at the door

“Now leave me to my work.” A light jump and he was on his legs again doing as you requested, not being able to say anything. Leaning onto the door frame he mumbled something and left.

Sergeant Barnes was thankful Miss.

F.R.I.D.A.Y. informed you, pulling a smirk from deep inside. “Yeah yeah, I know. Tough nut that James Barnes. Such a kid.” One more giggle and it was off to finishing up for you.

[omg-imagine]

⊱ Dirty Dancing ⊰

Pairing: Keanu Reeves x Reader

Request: Please I'd like a Ke smut fic where he arrives home while Reader is listening music and doing a sexy dance (she wears a beautiful dress) and stares at her watching her dance moves, she notices him and they end up making love  -Anon

Warnings: Smut

Words: 1.6k

A/N: Yiiikes I’ve neglected my requests for too long and I’m super sorry about that! I’ll be working on the two remaining in the upcoming weeks. Also, I added another anon’s request for neck kisses on here too. Hope you enjoy!

Shutting off the car’s engine, the sheer exhaustion from shooting long, grueling hours for the last three months was finally catching up to Keanu. Though his body desperately craved hours of fitful sleep, he chose to ignore it and prepared himself to see you instead.

In a state of utter weariness, he managed to drive across the city during rush hour just to have dinner with you tonight. He had missed you dearly throughout the entire time he was away and could no longer bear being apart from you, the most precious person in the world who ultimately held his heart.

Arriving at your house a half an hour early, Keanu wanted to surprise you. With a fresh bouquet of flowers in his hand and a bottle of your favorite red tucked securely under his arm, he quietly let himself in through the front door using the spare key you had given him.

From the foyer, he could already smell the enticing aroma of food wafting in the air. Stomach grumbling, he padded down the hall leading to the kitchen where the sound of music grew louder with his approach. Keanu’s lips quirked into a delighted smile as he rounded the corner, and his eyes widened at the surprising sight of you dancing to the lively beat.

For now, he decided to stay hidden in the shadows, his mind rapt at the way your hips sashayed to the seductive song blasting in the background. Donning a sexy, figure-hugging red dress which he hadn’t seen you wear previously, Keanu couldn’t tear his gaze away as the deep bass thudded through the walls. Still unaware of his presence, you exuded utter confidence with every rhythmic sway and dip of your alluring body, the sensual scene sending jolts of arousal through him.

Breath hitched in his throat, Keanu could feel his trousers tightening when he noticed the skirt of your dress had ridden up a little higher on your thighs, exposing more of your soft and supple skin. All he could think of at that very second was ripping your clothes off and taking you right then and there. Three months without having you had made him very impatient and very desperate.

Eyes devouring every inch of your beauty, Keanu thought about how dinner would surely be off the table for the next hour. He had forgotten how tired and hungry he was, a surge of energy and desire taking over as a result of watching your enticing show. Presently, his burning need inside was reserved for you and you only.

“Holy shit!” you gasped after you finally glanced over to where Keanu was and caught him standing there, an irrepressible smirk flashing across his face. “God, Ke. You scared me.”

“Don’t stop on my account,” he chuckled lowly while sauntering into the kitchen, placing the items he brought on the table.

Lowering the volume of the music, you then smiled at him once he reached you. “You’re here early. The chicken is still in the oven cooking.”

“I wanted to surprise my best girl,” Keanu replied, leaning down briefly to peck your lips. His hands slowly ran down the side of your body before settling on your hips. “Is this dress new?”

“I got it this morning,” you answered sweetly. “You like it?”

Keanu nodded, mouth ghosting down your neck. His breath tickled your skin as you released a soft moan when he pressed his body against yours, letting you feel the hardness between his legs. “I love it, and seeing the way you dance in it? That was very hot and entertaining as you can tell.”

“How much did you see?” You questioned, slipping your palms under Keanu’s shirt and noticing the glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

“Most of it. You’re a damn good dancer, baby. An incredibly sexy one, too.”

“Perhaps I should give you a private show next time,” you suggested with a sly wink, fingers rising to tangle themselves in his hair. You tugged on them the slightest bit, just enough to elicit a reaction from him.

Abruptly, Keanu then smoothly lifted you up in his arms, placing you on the cold, granite countertop of the kitchen island. He stood in between your spread legs, leaning down and trailing moist kisses along your jaw and collarbone. His hand began to hike your dress up, revealing your laced panties to him as his mouth moved to that sensitive spot behind your ear.

Keanu’s breath was warm and ragged on your skin as he whispered, “Definitely next time. Right now, I’m going to show you how much I enjoyed that little show of yours.”

Lips locked in a deep, fervent kiss, Keanu wasted no time touching you wherever he pleased. Hearing your hum of approval, his long digits skimmed up your inner thigh agonizingly, swallowing the airy moans escaping your throat. You cried out the moment he pulled your underwear to the side and slid his fingers inside your dripping cunt, your wet walls instantly squeezing around them with a vice-like grip.

It had been far too long.

Pulling back, Keanu’s dark, lust-blown eyes held your half-lidded gaze as he pushed in his dexterous digits until he was knuckle-deep before drawing them out almost teasingly, causing you to whine and writhe underneath him uncontrollably. Eventually, he gained speed, alternating between finger-fucking and stroking your clit as you quickly came apart with his hand alone.

Your eyes were clamped shut, chest heaving unsteadily as Keanu retracted his thick fingers from your core. Smiling, he licked the slick essence coating his fingers, its divine taste both tangy and sweet on his tongue, a flavor that was uniquely and delectably yours. Still lost in your post-orgasmic haze, he deftly unzipped the back of your dress, allowing him to easily remove it from your limp body.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, drinking in the bare sight of you. “You’re so beautiful, baby. I’m a lucky man knowing that you are all mine.”

“I’m yours,” you breathlessly added. “Please, Ke...”

Peeling off his shirt, Keanu stepped back, and then asked huskily, “What do you need, sweetheart?”

“You…” you sighed, watching as he unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants along with his boxers down, freeing his hard, pulsing cock. “I need you, Ke. I need you inside me.”

Giving himself a few languid pumps with one hand, Keanu swiftly slid your panties down your legs using the other and tossed it somewhere in the room. Sitting up, your hands gripped the edge of the counter, waiting in anticipation as he guided his tip to your heat. Slowly, he sheathed his cock inside of your pussy, and immediately it stretched to accommodate his girth.

As he bottomed out, you placed delicate kisses down the column of his neck, and he nearly purred at the sensation. No matter how many times you and Keanu made love, he surely could never get enough of you. He would cherish each moment of it, whether it would be rough and fast or sweet and slow. What he most cared about was simply you and making sure you felt loved and adored with every fiber of his being.

You lied back down on the counter as Keanu hovered over you, his hips beginning a delicious rhythm that had you mewling in seconds. He knew the two of you wouldn’t last long, not when this was your first time together in months. Soft grunts filled your ears as he thrust in and out of you, his control gradually slipping the more you whimpered out his name.

“P-Please, Ke,” you begged, digging your fingernails into his back as he lowered his lips to yours. The pleasure was becoming too overwhelming, leaving you unable to form a coherent word, but Keanu knew precisely what you needed.

“I-I’m close, baby,” he warned, his movements faltering as the tightly-wound up coil in his stomach began to unravel much like yours. “Come with me. Go ahead, let go. Let go for me.”

With a shuddering breath, you shook in pure ecstasy while you came around Keanu’s cock. You managed to keep your eyes open long enough to watch him reach his own high, his face contorting with bliss as he released hot spurts of his cum deep inside of you. Satiated, Keanu slumped forward, carefully not to crush you as you both tried to regain your senses.  

After some time had passed, he gently withdrew his softening cock from you before grabbing paper towels to clean yourselves up. Keanu then helped you hop down from the counter, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him into a passionate kiss once your feet touched the tile floors. You only broke away when the oven timer suddenly dinged behind him, reminding you of the dinner you were prepping before his arrival.

“Chicken’s ready,” you mumbled against his lips. “Are you still hungry?”

“Starving,” Keanu laughed before reaching down and retrieving your discarded red dress from the ground. “You should probably hang this up for later.”

“Later?” Your brows rose in curiosity. “You want me to wear it again later?”

“Yes,” he stated, dipping down to kiss you breathlessly again. “You did promise me a private show, and I want to see you dance with this on again.”

“What if I danced with nothing on?” You proposed with a teasing tone. “How would you like that instead?”

Nodding, Keanu’s lips curved upwards, already feeling himself harden by the mere thought of it. “I’m really glad to be back home.”

“Me too,” you agreed before stepping in to close the distance, your lips connecting one more time.

Permanent Tags: @penwieldingdreamer​ @keandrews​ @feminine-machinegun​ @fanficsrusz​ @thehumanistsdiary​ @rdjloverxxx​ @flaminasteroid​ @lussdew​

[frenemies-to-lovers]

A Tether, A Bond | A Jude/Cardan Conversation The Morning After QoN

Tags: Canon-Compliant, Post-QoN, Rating: T+, maybe verging on M? I don’t know, Heat Level: Medium | Word count: 3646

Wherein they discuss the benefits of not having to rule alone and try to work through what it means to be married. Also a small argument because it's just who they are as people. Also things get a little spicy. Because honestly, WHY DIDN’T WE GET A FULL DEBRIEFING CONVERSATION BETWEEN THE TWO OF THEM?! 

----

Preview: "I fear that I also have not found ruling alone to be to my taste,” Cardan says.

I am a little overwhelmed by that. By how sincere that admission feels.

“Lucky for both of us that we don’t have to,” I say with a wry smile.

“How fortunate, indeed, that we are bound to each other for at least as long as we reign,” he says quietly, turning his face to press a kiss to the rounded top of my ear.

Read on AO3 or below the cut.

I find myself waking with difficulty from a very deep sleep. I feel as though I’ve slept for a hundred years, but the stiffness through my body also makes me want to sleep for a hundred more. I open my eyes slowly, reaching out a hand toward the other side of the bed. . . only to find it empty. 

Empty. 

My chest lurches in panic as I throw off the covers and launch myself out of bed, all thoughts of soreness forgotten. 

“Jude?” Cardan says softly as I whirl around. I put a hand over my thundering heart, relieved to see him sitting in a chair by the fire, a dressing gown draped around him. There is a tray of food and tea things on a low table beside him, and a mug steaming in his elegant hands. 

My knees nearly buckle at the sight and I plop ungracefully onto the edge of the bed, still grasping at the front of my night shirt. His shirt. That I wore to sleep in. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, giving me a concerned look, and I wonder if he can hear my heartbeat. 

“Yeah, I just…” I resist the impulse to deflect, or to lie and say it was a nightmare. We’ve been through too much for me to be embarrassed by the truth, or to feel like he’ll somehow hold this vulnerability against me. He already knows how I feel. “I thought for a second that maybe yesterday hadn’t happened at all. That I had dreamed it all up, and you were still cursed.”

“I really am pleased that you prefer me alive, despite the unbridled power you would have if I were otherwise,” he says, giving me a sly smile. 

I roll my eyes. “We’ve already had this conversation. I much prefer you both alive and not as a giant snake. And besides, ruling alone was awful.”

“Is that so?” he asks. His black eyes lock on mine, one eyebrow quirked up. He looks beautiful with his face bare and his hair rumpled from sleep. “I had thought that you would like being fully in charge, not having to share your power with me or worry about whatever nonsense I might be up to that wasn’t in line with your schemes. I am surprised that it wasn’t to your taste.” 

He looks equal parts sincere and bemused, and I’m not quite sure what to make of him right now. I am unsure if I will ever fully get used to the idea that we are working together.  That we are . . what? A team? 

“I’m sure you’ve noticed that I’m not exactly practiced in the art of diplomacy.  You’re much better than I am at charming the folk and putting them at ease.  Not to mention that I’m widely known to be a liar. And a murderer.”

As I’m speaking, Cardan crosses the floor and sits down next to me, close enough for the length of his thigh to press gently against mine. He rests a hand on the bed behind me, casually leaning in.  His warmth beside me, this close, feels comforting in a way I am unaccustomed to.  I wonder if he is as aware of every point where our bodies are touching as I am.

“I think those are both strengths for a mortal queen,” he says.

“Perhaps. But I’m afraid I don’t quite have the skillset for ruling alone -- murderous, mortal queen that I am,” I return. 

That elicits a soft laugh from him. “Perhaps now you understand some of what I felt when you were prisoner of the Undersea.  Only I was foolish enough that I had not considered, even for a moment, that I would truly make a poor king without you running the kingdom for me.”

Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Of course you hadn’t.”

“Truly, I had not realized how much easier my job as High King was with you making all of the decisions and whispering them in my ear. I learned much about ruling while you were prisoner of the Undersea, and more still while you were in the mortal world. Even so, I fear that I also have not found ruling alone to be to my taste.”

I am a little overwhelmed by that. By how sincere that admission feels. 

“Lucky for both of us that we don’t have to,” I say with a wry smile.

“How fortunate, indeed, that we are bound to each other for at least as long as we reign,” he says quietly, turning his face to press a kiss to the rounded top of my ear. The brush of his lips and the tickle of his breath on my skin makes me shiver. 

I feel his mouth hovering so close to me, feel it pulling me like gravity, and I turn my head to bring my lips to his. He kisses me back — gently and slowly at first, then more deeply and thoroughly. He pushes my hair out of my face and threads his fingers in it, cupping the back of my head. I bring one of my hands to his neck, trailing my fingers down his chest as our mouths continue sliding together, again and again. I want to grab him tighter, or maybe push him down on the bed. 

I pull away for a moment, assessing, and Cardan smiles with some satisfaction at the flush on my face. I pivot onto his lap, straddling him and bringing his mouth back to mine greedily as I tangle my fingers into his curls.  I expect him to grab me with equal force, but he runs his hands over my back gently.  I try to kiss him with more urgency, to tell him what I want, but he remains gentle, slow. 

“There’s no need to rush, Jude,” he whispers, pulling his mouth away and resting his forehead against mine.  He traces a finger down the mostly open collar of my shirt. The touch down my chest, all the way to my sternum, makes my breath catch.  He rests his palm gently over my thundering heart. “I like seeing you in my clothes. In my bed.” 

My cheeks heat and I keep my eyes closed, unsure if I can bear whatever is on his face as he watches the effect his words have on me. I am overwhelmed by his touch, as he brushes a hand gently down the length of my spine then trails the outside of my thigh.  As he crosses from touching fabric to touching bare skin, I feel a sharp spike of heat through my core. I am completely unaware of what my own hands are doing, only that they are on him.  He begins tracing slow circles on my leg, the touch of his fingertips feeling charged with electricity. 

I can hear my breathing grow ragged and audible, but I no longer have control of it. I can feel myself clenching my thighs around him, can feel myself arching into him and my head drifting back as he presses a gentle kiss to the hollow of my throat.  I have slid into a sense of unreality many times with Cardan, but this feels particularly intoxicating.  I am not sure I know how to surrender to this.  To his lazy, gentle touches.  To the idea that we have all the time in the world.

“This is weird, right?” I say breathlessly, unable to hold it in, to give myself over to the feeling. 

“I believe you started it,” he murmurs, and I can feel him grinning into the skin of my neck.  My breath hitches as his hand flattens up my thigh, his fingertips sneaking under the hem of my shirt.

“Not this.” I dig the nails of one hand into the fabric of his dressing gown with a squeeze.  “Just. Being on the same side, not fighting, and not in any immediate danger.”

“You realize that’s exactly what I am trying to enjoy right now, right?” His mouth is still at my throat, and each gentle touch of his lips as he speaks sends a shock through my whole body. My hand in his hair clenches into a fist, the tension beginning to overtake me.

“We can find something to fight about, if that would make you feel more comfortable,” he says, the tip of his nose dragging with deliberate, agonizing slowness from my collarbone to my ear.

“That’s not. . .” I begin, but he interrupts me.

“We’ve already discussed your exile at length, but you’re welcome to yell at me again. I haven’t brought up your killing Balekin, against my wishes, because I think perhaps your anger at the exile far outweighed my own.”

His words wash over me like a bucket of ice water, snuffing out that heat that had been building, and I suddenly do want to fight.  I pull away far enough to cross my arms in front of my chest and stare him in the face. Does he really think that Balekin gave me any other choice? 

“Balekin poisoned you,” I say sharply. “He would have kept trying to kill you. And he was going to kill me if I didn’t kill him first. And it settled our debt with the Court of Termites.”

I expect him to rise to the bait, to argue back, but he just gives me a steady look. Both of his hands now rest on my bare knees, my legs still bracketing his body.  “Did you enjoy it?” He asks, a little coldness creeping into his voice. 

I withdraw myself from his lap and take a step back, staring down at him with as much indignation as I can muster while wearing nothing but his ridiculous shirt. I am very nearly furious, but his eyes seem sincere. As though this is something he’s wondered for a long time. 

“He deserved to die, you know. And not just for poisoning you,” I say defensively. 

He is still looking at me, assessing. I take a steadying breath, trying to tamp down my anger.  Trying to sort out how I actually feel about killing Balekin, without wearing that defensiveness as my armor.  This -- learning to be unguarded with him -- is going to take practice.  

“I wasn’t sorry to see him dead, but I didn’t relish the killing,” I add, my voice a little steadier.

We stare each other down for a long, tense moment.  

“I suppose I would have been even angrier at you for losing that duel than winning it,” he responds, with a softness in his voice that I have heard a few times before.  A softness that I want more of. He reaches out a hand and I let him take my fingers in his, although I still stand and study his face.

“Wait … did you . . .?” I whisper, some knowledge shimmering just outside of my grasp, something I want to believe but can’t quite accept.

“Already love you? Yes.” How he knows precisely what I meant to ask, I have no idea.  Perhaps he knows exactly what is written on his face as he looks at me now. “I knew when you were taken by the Undersea. Imagine my surprise when I realized that I was even more anxious than Madoc to secure your return.  Imagine my surprise when I missed you.  Not just you running the kingdom for me, but being near you. Arguing with you, provoking you, flirting with you, watching you. All of it.”

My heart stops, and I feel I owe him more.  Not an apology, exactly, but as close as I can get to one without lying. 

“I didn’t intend to kill Balekin when I left to meet him that night. I didn’t even have Nightfell with me. Or a sword at all, for that matter. I know you didn’t exactly have a great relationship, but I didn’t want to have to kill him. He was the person who raised you, after all. And the last living member of your family. Other than Oak, I suppose.”

He squeezes my hand at that, maybe relieved that I didn’t seek out his brother in cold blood. I can see how it would be easy to believe I had. 

“You’re forgetting my mother,” he grins. I grimace. I am trying to forget his mother. “Although, as my wife, technically you are now my family.” 

My heart stutters. Oh. Oh. I haven’t thought it through this way. 

“Wait… that means Lady Asha is my mother in law. And Madoc, who tried to take the crown from you…”

“From both of us,” he corrects me, his face entirely lit with mischief. It is clear to me that he is enjoying witnessing me stumble upon this little revelation — something he has clearly already considered. 

“... is your father in law,” I finish, feeling both indignant and somehow awed. 

“Yes, I do believe that is how marriage works,” he says dryly. I want to wipe that stupid, mocking smile right off his beautiful face. 

“But… Taryn and Vivi are your sisters. And Oak is your brother now, as well as your nephew.”

“Are you really just realizing this?” he teases, his face now full of mock innocence.

“Yes. Obviously,” I grumble. 

“You haven’t thought of me once, this entire time, as your husband,” he says, voice soft, all teasing gone. It isn’t a question.  

“I couldn’t think of you as my anything,” I snap, feeling suddenly defensive again. “I thought of you as the High King. And a jerk. And I thought of myself as the Queen. But not of you as…” I trail off. I’m the one who feels like a jerk. 

“Say it, Jude,” he whispers. He tugs me back toward him, bringing me to stand between his legs as his hands go to my waist.  I look down into his black eyes, suddenly feeling unable to speak.  My mind is still whirling, rewriting everything I had thought I understood.  I feel a little as though the earth is shifting beneath my feet as everything that has happened over the last days, weeks, and months reframes itself through his eyes.

He had told me that the letters he’d written were full of pleading for me to come back.  I am so used to being tricked by the folk, that I hadn’t really considered that he had truly meant it, that he wasn’t still just toying with me.  I had not thought of him willing me to come back not just to Elfhame, but to come back to him.

Each memory makes me feel as though I am being pummeled by waves, unable to regain my bearings before being knocked down by the next. The way he had spoken to me when I was pretending to be Taryn and he knew it was me. How he had tried to keep Madoc from taking me. The fact that he went to my sisters, to the mortal world, to find me. Vivi said he’d been desperate to find me, but I could not believe that his motives had anything to do with his feelings for me. He himself, Cardan, had come with the Roach to Madoc’s camp to get me out.  He had shielded me and given me Mother Marrow’s cloak.  He had nearly watched me die, and then let me bleed out onto his sheets for days.  

And the whole time, he had loved me.  

I feel both wholly unmoored and more steadily anchored than I have ever felt before.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he says, scanning my face. I have no idea what he sees there.  

I realize I have been frozen for a few moments and bring one hand up to cup his face, the other tracing the top of his pointed ear.  He leans his cheek into my palm, and I feel my heart speed, feel as though there is not enough room inside my chest for what I am feeling. I still cannot speak.

“Please, Jude,” he whispers, his eyes still on mine.  

“I am so used to being tricked by the folk that I didn’t consider you had meant it. That you had wanted anything more than just your freedom from your vow of obedience. And that you used my desire for power to get it in the only way you could,” I finally reply, the words coming out more softly than I intend.

His fingers dig into my waist, and he continues to look up into my face as he says, “Then let me say that I did trick you, but perhaps not in the way you thought.  I had begun to fear what would happen when my vow of obedience was up and I was no longer useful to you.  If you would depose me from the throne and not ever have need of me again.  If you would not make me abdicate before my vow was up, if you would bide your time and join Madoc in finding another way to get Oak on the throne when he was older.  I did use your desire for power. Not just to convince you to rescind your power over me, but also to convince you to tether yourself to me for longer than a year and a day.  To rule beside me, and to grant me what I hoped would be enough time to win your trust. And perhaps, eventually, your heart as well.”

I lean down and kiss him then, soft and sweet. I know that nothing I say in return could possibly be an adequate response to what he just confessed.  So I settle for a confession of my own.

“When I agreed to marry you, I had hoped that it meant I could stop being afraid to love you,” I say.

The way he kisses me in response makes me glad I told him.  Although I don’t think either of us knows what to do with this much sincerity, this much trust.  All of this is going to take some getting used to.  

“I am certain we have many conflicts ahead of us, but I hope never to make you afraid to love me again.  I am yours, Jude.  I would like for you to think of me as such.”

“As my husband?” I ask, unable to stop the shy smile that is breaking across my face. It’s impossible not to be affected by his words, by the truth of them. “I guess after that little speech, I can do that.”

He pulls me to him and I oblige, ready to climb back onto his lap.  But he moves until we are lying on the bed. One of his hands makes its way back into my hair as he brings his mouth to mine again, this time with some of the urgency I was looking for earlier.  He is touching me gently, though, one of his hands tracing up the curve of my hip. I clutch him tightly, wanting to feel the press of his body against mine. It is simultaneously too much and not nearly enough, the way he is kissing me over and over again. The heat of him and the weight of him as he rolls me onto my back and settles his body between my legs.  

I feel his warm palm drag up the side of my thigh and am dimly aware that the hem of my shirt has ridden up dangerously high.  I slip one of my hands inside his dressing gown, which has fallen mostly open, and dig my fingernails into his back as he brings his mouth to my neck. I arch into him.

“Tell me again,” he whispers.

I am about to ask him what he means when I am hit with the memory of the first time his hands were on me like this.  

“I hate you,” I say softly into his ear with a smirk.  He nips my earlobe in a way that sends a shock of pleasure through my whole body.

“The truth this time, Jude. Please,” he says.  But I see that he is smirking, too, as he pulls his face away to look at me.  It still feels too intimate to say to him, this close, his gold-rimmed eyes burning with hope and desire.  So I close my eyes and close the distance between us again, our mouths sliding together. 

“I love you,” I breathe into his mouth between kisses. He stills for a moment, his fingers digging more firmly into my skin. 

“I love you,” he returns with equal softness. Then he continues kissing me. My mouth, my ear, my throat. I feel like I am burning up, overcome with a heady combination of affection and desire.  It is too much. 

I try not to shy away from the feeling, try not to push it down.  Instead, I think about how I can feel his heart beating with his body pressed on top of mine. I think about his mouth moving along my throat, my collarbone. I untie his robe and think about his warm skin under my callouses as I drag a hand down his chest, his abdomen, lower. I think about his sharp intake of breath, his low moan against my skin as I touch him. 

I think about his hands and nothing else. One is still tangling in my hair. He sweeps the other underneath my clothes quickly, the shirt gathering around my ribs. He traces a slow burning trail down my throat, my chest, my stomach, making his way down, down, down.

I think about how much I have wanted this, and how much more it is than I even allowed myself to want. To be wanted. To be loved.

Then suddenly, blissfully, and without my notice, I am no longer thinking at all.

[snarkwrites]

omg angel! my next ✨thot✨ was going to be about tying tim up but we can hold off on that cause you gave me a gem to run with and ask very kindly for more! (also you are amazing for just indulging me and i’m crying cause omg you totally get me and i’m glad we can fawn over tim together)

so i am asking for a very much needed continuation of officer tim using his cuffs and what his punishment is! please! i beg of you! - ❤️

Oooh, yes. Yes, save that for another time because I’d absolutely love to discuss that further. You’re the amazing one because you don’t know how much this indulges me and i love fawning over Tim with you! <3

A continuation, yes? Here we go. Let’s do this.

Warnings:

I preface in saying that the content below the cut -yes, there will be one, I already know I’m going to go on a tangent and I damn well know it’s gonna be filthy as hell, is absolutely not meant for minors. So if you’re under 18+, you need to click away from this. Don’t read any further. If you choose to stay beyond this warning, this is now officially your own problem/fault. I warned you.

If you are going to stick around, first of all, yay!  <3!!, Secondly, these things may be present... Use of handcuffs. Body fluids. Oral sex; male giving. Oral sex ; face fucking, female giving.

Tagging:

@chasingeverybreakingwave 

@twistnet 

Tim Speedle + teasing, a continuation;

You knew you were in for it; that didn’t stop you at all. Your hand wandered down between the two of you and he groaned quietly, bucking against it as you worked your hand down his pants, wrapped them around his growing bulge. His fingers dug into your ass, squeezing and he growled against your mouth, “You’re really in for it now, doll.” and his eyes met yours, pupils nearly blacked out with lust. He rubbed you against him, the friction just wasn’t enough. His tongue dragged slowly round the shell of your ear and he gave the lusty whisper, “ It’s all fun and games until you’re handcuffed to our bed and my head’s buried between your thighs.” and as he said it, his fingers dug against your jeans even more, rubbing you against him all over again more roughly. 

As soon as you two could slip out of Eric and Calleigh’s, you were hurrying to his motorcycle. The trip back to Tim’s felt as if it took forever, but he made it interesting every single time he saw fit to really lay into the gas, making the powerful engine you currently straddled roar and as a direct result, vibrate. He was scooping you off of the Ducati as soon as it was fully stopped in the parking lot. His mouth devouring yours, rough and biting. A frantic and needy kiss that left you whimpering and squirming in his arms, because you just couldn’t wait a second longer. As soon as the door was unlocked, the fuse was lit. Clothing was torn free from your body before you could even really bat a lash -and definitely before Tim got the door closed fully behind you two, fyi. Once the door to Tim’s apartment was closed behind the two of you and locked, Tim was carrying you straight back to his bedroom. Your back hit the mattress and his mouth never left yours. Now his free hand was wandering all over your bare body. He dug around, finally locating the handcuffs. He pressed into you and muttered against your mouth in a low growl, “Get comfortable doll. You really earned this.” as he licked his lips, letting his eyes roam over your naked body slowly.

The cold metal against your warm skin had you hissing and you found your hands cuffed, rendering them useless. You had to lie there and watch as he stripped off his shirt, letting it fall to the floor in the room behind him. And then he went for the jeans. Slowly. Teasing you. As they pooled at his ankle and he kicked his shoes off, he licked his lips and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Pretending he didn’t know exactly what he was about to do. He stepped closer. “Is there something you wanna do right now, doll?” -oh god, that shit eating tease tone he took.. If you were dripping back at the party, you were three times that now. Your eyes settled on his thick length, standing at attention. When his hand wandered down, circling it, you whimpered. “Not fair.” you squirmed, dying to at least be able to do something. Your cunt was throbbing. Between all the teasing earlier in the night and the entire ride back here to now, you were beyond ready.

“I asked you a question doll.”  Tim’s voice went more firm. More like a true authority figure. You’d seen this flip switch a time or two before when he was working.. It never failed to leave you all worked up. His hand continued to pump his thick and hardened length, knowing that unless you spoke up, all you could do was watch.. Squirm.. Beg for it.

You couldn’t take anymore. “C’mon, Tim, please.. You know what I want.” you whimpered out. “I wanna suck your cock.”

Your words and your begging tone flipped the switch within the man even more. He stood, helping you sit up so you could reach him a little easier. But those cuffs? Those stayed on. You got the feeling that it might be quite a while before they came off tonight and just the thought of it had your thighs absolutely flooded with slick, dripping. One of his hands wandered down, gripping your sex, squeezing and rubbing the heel of his palm right against your mound, putting indirect pressure on your clit and you arched your back away from the bed. His other hand remained wrapped around his cock and he teased it against your mouth. You begged him to let you have your hands but he shook his head no. “Don’t let me get too rough, baby girl.” he muttered against your mouth as his fingers worked you open and he stole one last deep and biting kiss. HIs mouth was replaced with his cock and as you took him as deep in your throat as you could take him, his fingers tangled in your hair. His hips thrust against your mouth, the suction of it making him tense and growl quietly. Making his fingers bury deeper in your dripping core, the wet slosh seeming to echo through the room and shatter the silence.  “Louder, doll.” he muttered in a daze, his fingers striking against your spot as you really latched onto his cock, raising your head, only to lower your mouth all over again and repeat. His fingers tangled in your hair urging you to go faster, controlling the pace. You could feel yourself starting to shake, your orgasm was dangerously close. He seemed to pick up on it, his fingers slowed to a more deliberate crawl inside you and his thumb pressed into your clit, making you moan out and squirm as you worked your mouth over his length faster. Determined to make him abandon his little plan of teasing you.

But he’s not one of those guys who changes his mind easily. ANd his mind was currently fixed on teasing you just as much as you’d been teasing him nearly all night.

“Fuck.” he growled out quietly as his hips and his fingers both came to a stop and you pouted. You’d been right on the edge. A breath away from going over it. He drew his fingers out of your dripping heat and stepped away from you, making you pout even more, begging him not to stop. He chuckled quietly. His fingers passed between his lips and he groaned as the taste of your juices filled his mouth. When he locked eyes with you again, you KNEW you were in for it.

He lowered himself down onto the bed. Using his body to spread your legs as his mouth began to work up the slippery insides, teeth latching on here and there. His eyes met yours once more and you knew by the gleam in them that he was only just getting started. His tongue  rolled over and around your clit all over again as his fingers buried inside. When his mouth latched onto your folds, sucking, you arched away from the bed, your toes digging into the mattress and your moans shattered the silence and competed with the sounds of Tim, head buried between your thighs. Tongue slurping greedily as he buried it inside of you with his fingers, drumming against your spot. Sending you speeding right towards orgasm all over again only to have him stop the second he felt you tensing and shaking beneath him, and start licking and nipping at your inner thighs before continuing.

You felt the broad strokes of his tongue as they formed the letter T. Your toes curled all over again and your head fell back, your eyes fluttered open and closed. “Fuck.” you moaned, rocking your hips upward. This, of course, was exactly what he wanted you to do. He gripped your hip with his free hand, bucking them against his mouth as the torment started all over again.

By the time he got to the Y in his full first name, you were dripping all over the bed and Tim was stopping to look up at his handiwork, watch you fighting to keep from coming undone for him before he gave you permission.....

[lucidpantone]

Druck is objectively better than all remakes at making a pointed effort to do better with their pic reps. They actually take in the feedback of their audience and try to execute a better product. There are problems with druck and 80% of it is the fandom. Ofc all remakes have issues tho, so ppl should chill. Druck fans unapologetically shit on other remakes while, wtfock fans and skam fr fans have the courtesy of slyly getting their digs in there. It's quite amusing to watch from the sidelines

this is super long but for you anon.

So I think we need to look at these three remakes as what I call the og period and the original period because they do change alot once they get more freedom some for the absolute worse. Ok so lets talk first about the OG periods. To be perfectly honest s1 in all these remakes are just ok. Jana & Jens are a bit unbearable but Jana as a whole is fine and am happy she doesnt end up with Jens. Same with Hanna and Jonas they aren’t unbearable per-say but I am also not gushing over them but I do like Jonas being a heart throb music man sometimes but once again they dont burn into my core but am happy they reunite. Love Emma and love Yann just not together its that simple. S2 is where we really start to see the difference. Charles is the devil so I hate skamfr s2 and like really Manon stays with him??? ughh why?? Daphne is right at almost bursting into laughter when he talks about doing philanthropy. Ok bruh....sure. Winterberg is fine I dont hate them and I dont love them they are just okay to me. S2 happens to be wtfock best season so its kinda hard to stack them up because this is the best they ever looked. All of the s3 for all these remakes are good. To say they aren’t would just be nonsense some are better then others but all are above average. Now S4....... well well well. What can we say the elusive goldstar Sana season is yet to be made (I will say the script for Italia s4 is fantastic, THE SCRIPT).

Skamfr s4 was a mess and ridiculous and Druck’s s4 was lazy and harbored accents of prejudice all over it.Both seasons undercut their woc and both miss the opportunity to write deep meaningful stories that explored the societal struggles of muslim women. Skamfr s4 just happened to really just shows us their colors but honestly am not shocked this is skam the micro racist decisions are all over the verse. TBD on yasmina season.

 NOW......this all changes when we talk about the original seasons because this is when we see the shows on their own and also we get to see if they have been listening and absorbing the fan commentary or not. So let’s get the obvious out of the way wtFOCK was an absolute mess and maybe the worse season ever created in the skamverse the only thing that made that season even slightly bearable was the Moyo arc which I hear it actually continues in s5 so in a weird way s4 is actually about Moyo since his story continues but we already know thats only because if the fans saw Kato on the screen for a matters of seconds the volcano of hate would explode. I despise how Noa has become the pseudo main of s4 but didnt get the credit. It kills me they did this to him. Maining Romi is the worse mistake ever made by any remake and thats just fact. Now do I want to see a newgen out of wtfock? hmmmm ask me after s5 but am leaning towards probably not but am on the fence. Now skamfr .....let me say this one thing skam fr is nothing without their cast. Talk about fucking talent. Those kids can act their ass off but their writing is atrocious. s5 could have been good they had all the ingredients but the writers bomb it. S6 once again flavie amazing the writing a shit show. S7 lucie was amazing the writing was better but still needs work I think it pretty obvious skam fr is going to step into the thunderdome and finally do what no skam has done before and main bilal but should I really applaud it taking 8 seasons and 35 plus skamverse seasons to get here??? Probably not, but since no one else is gonna pull the trigger I wish them well and at least skamfr listen and lamifex is super rich in diversity and they are honestly a fabulous newgen. They are such a ridiculous squad but god I love them and Jo is an angel. Please please skamfr please write a good story for a brown boy I beg of you!!! Now druck s5 all I can say is Bravo!! If skamfr is their cast then Druck is their writers. That s5 season is a fucking beast. Thats how you write an original skam season. They also listen the cast is super diverse. The girl squad feels natural and their age I actually like that the insta squad are problematic as fuck and happen to be queer. Like just cause your a gay baby doesnt mean you arent an ass. s6 for me personally was ok maybe its unfair of me but I expect amazing writing out of druck and s6 to me was not their best. It could have been amazing they touched so many topics but never deeply explored them and I wanted more for fatou. Also def got the vibes at the end they were panicking on who to main next season so everyone got a little plot thread but that also distracted me from fatou but I love the Mailin plot it was really smart and done well. I didnt hate her but boy did she bug the shit out me.That how you write modern day racism and white privilege. I just wish Ava’s plot was spread more onto fatou they were moments but i wanted more. So I guess I do think out of the original seasons druck s5 is the best. Nora being white didnt matter because she was written well but i do think Tiff being the main out of skamfr wasnt the best choice but then seeing Lucie act am like ok i get it but honestly I expect that from that cast they can all kill it so why not let someone else be the main and not tiff. BTW druck’s cast is good too I just dont think they are as good as the skamfr cast on the acting front but they are some members that are very very good. Like you said because Druck does listen I hope they listen to the honest criticism of s6. I know some people are like its the best ever but like its not....am sorry s5 was way better then s6 and that makes me sad because i want my black girl magic.... I do expect s7 to be good because when the writers for druck have the room to take their time they always kill it but I also feel like they are about to pull a Tiff on us and main Ismail(plus constantine as the side plot) but if I trust anyone with not fucking it up its them. Concerning the fandoms I live off tag and I do that for a reason. The fandom tags are alot but the druck one is almost hostile and honestly you would love the show more if you didnt interact with it. The skamfr tag is hilarious because they are no anti’s its just a bunch of arm chair critics making memes at how ridiculous the frenchies are but in away it makes the remake super fun because no one cares anymore. The wtfock tag has really high highs and really insane lows. When its low its really low so I have decided to live off tag. For those who haven’t..... god speed. Your brave souls!!