#but I felt like testing fate or something

[gay-dorito-dust]

scar with a gn! Reader that’s crazier then him :3 (headcanons please)

You probably caught a glimpse of him one day could feel this chaotic and intense energy about him, which would’ve been enough to have anyone making the smart decision to leave while they could.

for you however, it was more or less the opposite and it wasn’t long before you’d actively tried seeking him out, causing chaos and discord however you could just in the hopes of getting an audience with the man known as Scar.

You knew of the stories that have been told about him but you didn’t care and instead found something to bond with him over; wanting to watch everything go up in smoke as the fires blazed on well into the night.

Scar saw you both as kindred spirits, people who saw things as they really were whilst everyone else was more or less content with living in ignorant bliss.

If anyone were to call your love deranged or unstable, Scar would gladly destroy them in whatever ways he felt suited them best, as he went on a triad about how yours and his love was a genuine, one of a kind love that couldn’t be replicated because people didn’t have the same passion for destruction and desolation like you two did.

So in his eyes, anyone else’s definition of love was false in comparison to yours as yours stemmed from an obsession that bloomed from a simple glance.

Scar would preach whilst holding you close as a village burns to cinders that you were soulmates, two halves of the same soul that were forced to live separate lives because you were deemed too powerful of a force when together. so they had to rip you both apart while they could to preserve their definition of ‘peace.’

Your dates were…unique to say the least, such as participating in his experimentations and misleading good and well meaning people for fun and laughing when they come back a monstrosity of their own creation, as you’d let them believe.

You: would you burn everything for me? Would you even kill thousands for me my dearest Scar?

Scar: I’d do so and much, much more, charred corpses that would try to take you away from me, try to persuade you into leaving me or even exist within the same space as you will be used as an cautionary art piece; an example for everyone else that they’d too would suffer a similar fate made purely for our entertainment.

*he grabs at your face and leans in real close* they are merely mortals fooling themselves into thinking they’re smart enough to speak upon issues regarding those of a higher power and purpose. Do you hold me in the same regard, my desire?

You, leaning your forehead against his, looking deep into his eyes that were unusually soft in this moment: if I had it my way there’d be no one left alive to look at what’s mine. I’d rip out my own heart if I could to prove that it only beats for you and you could do whether you’d like with it for as long as you want. Cage it? Destroy it? Preserve it for all time always? My heart is yours to toy with.

You truly were a match made in a demented, morbid version of heaven.

Scar would probably test how much you love him by making you do the most morally questionable shit known to man, if you succeed, you’ve proven your love was genuine but if you failed, then he guesses you didn’t love him as much as you declared you did.

However once you’ve become scar’s, you were forfeiting your freedom in order to shape yourself into being the prefect lover for him, however that was the plan to being with wasn’t it?

[doodle-pops]

Love Language

CEO & Sugar Daddy!Fingolfin x f!reader

Request: Sending you a request for CEO+Sugar Daddy Fingolfin x reader, where reader doesn’t do well on one of her tests at school so he ‘punishes’ her / ‘helps’ her study for the next one? - Anon

A/N: Not gonna lie, it’s such a perfect time to post this fic when lots of you already finished your exams and are awaiting your results. Hehe, enjoy :)

Warnings: female reader, smut, CEO & Sugar Daddy!Fingolfin, dom!Fingolfin, sub!reader, fingering, blindfolding, rough sex, orgasm denial, spanking, daddy & authority kink (used once), punishment, dirty talking

Words: 3k

Synopsis: Failing your exams was one thing, however, lying while keeping it hidden was another, and Fingolfin made sure you remembered that.

Manspreading on the edge of his bed, left arm resting on his knee while the right was busy unfastening his tie, he followed up his actions with the unbuttoning of the first two buttons. A small peak of his chiselled chest as the two buttons became undone, leaving the mouth-watering sight of the neck you so loved covering in hickeys and teeth marks when he took you hard. His sleeves were already rolled to his elbows, veins prominent and delicately wrapping around his arms, leading to his large hands that always gripped you like his life depended on it. A quick shuffle of his arms as he tugged the tie from around his neck, and his biceps curled under his sleeves, looking beefy and sturdy—all his years of hitting the gym paid off wonderfully.

“Do you have any idea how much I invested in your success?” His voice was a low, dangerous murmur, dripping with controlled anger. He slowly rose off the bed and chartered over to his mini bar to pour himself a shot of brandy, something to add heat to the fire already building within his core. The entire time, his eyes never left yours as he tilted the glass to his lips, staring at your meek form across the room. His eyes were filled with disappointment and frustration. “And you dare lie to me, thinking I wouldn’t find out?”

His words cut through the silence, sharp and authoritative. You could barely manage a syllable, much less a guttural sound from the waves of anger rolling off him. You felt the heat in your stomach travelling to regions it shouldn’t, knowing how things were about to escalate. Nevertheless, your panties started soaking as your arousal slowly seeped through your fold and you shifted on your feet, something Fingolfin noticed.

Gently resting the glass down, Fingolfin wiggled out of his dress shoes, followed by his socks and pushed them aside to stand bare feet on the carpet. You weren’t even aware of his presence before you, as he crossed the room with blinding speed to tower above you, intimidatingly. “Strip. Now.” The command was issued with such finality that you didn’t dare hesitate to resist or sass. Your hands trembled slightly as you undressed, feeling the weight of his disapproval heavy in the air.

Once you were completely bare, he circled you slowly, inspecting you as if deciding your fate. Goosebumps appeared in every area his cold eyes fell upon. “You failed me,” he said, his tone cold. “I expected much more from you, and worse, you tried to hide it from me. Such behaviour needs to be rectified, and what better way than to clarify it via my favourite method? Do you not agree?”

“Yes,” you curtly responded, not wanting to bore him with any extra syllables in his current state of dissatisfaction, while further understanding what you had signed up for. Walking for the next few days was out of the question. Thankful, you were on holiday, so you could more than afford to lounge in bed all day and night—just not in the manner he was about to make it.

There was a low grumble in his chest at your reply. His head dipped to lowly his lips to your ear. “Yes, who?”

“Yes, sir,” you corrected your posture immediately at attention.

There was a distinctive clicking of his tongue behind you and the faint whisps of his breath against your neck. Then, very delicately, you felt his fingers pressing against your lower back, guiding you to his pristine sheets and positioning you to kneel with your face pressed into the mattress. Fingolfin’s fingers traced along your spine, a deceptive gentleness in his touch. “You need to understand the consequences of your actions,” he continued, his voice softening just enough to send shivers down your spine and while leaving you anticipating.

Moving behind you stealthy, you missed the sound of his hand slicing through the air yet felt the stinging pain of the contact it made with your ass. The suddenness made you gasp, but there was no reprieve. Another smack followed, then another, each one harder than the last, until your skin was flushed and stinging. His hand placement was strategic as he lowered it with each slap until his fingertips brushed against your wet folds with intensity. Your body naturally recoiled, however, his left hand reached out to entangle your tresses, giving you a slight arch. “No running. Count them,” he commanded with a hint of seduction. “I want to hear you acknowledge every single one.”

Unable to retaliate given the situation and the level it would become should you, your lips parted with a faint whisper that grew into a quiver, under the attempt to not moan. “One…two…three…” Each number was punctuated by another sharp spank, his hand firm and unyielding. Fingolfin’s other hand drifted from your hair to firmly, without aggression, grip the nape of your neck, holding you in place, ensuring that you couldn’t run from your punishment.

After the tenth strike, he paused, his hand resting on your reddened skin, soothingly rubbing the area. There was a moment where he admired the welts of hands left on your ass. You felt the bed dip to your left before the ghosting of his hot breath on the tip of your ear. “Do you think you deserve mercy?” he taunted, kissing the tip of your ear before biting it. “After lying to me, do you think you deserve any kindness?”

In a broken whimper, you managed to stutter out. “P-Please, ‘m sorry.” In return, you missed the way his eyes rolled but felt his heavy exhale before he removed his hand from your ass to dangle the tie before your eyes. You knew what came next.

Not waiting for you to comply, he released his hold on your neck to neatly secure the tie around your eyes, cutting your sight away from the world. The fresh scent of his cologne waffled through your senses and made your head spin. He always smelt delicious—a blend of mint and spices.

Once you were decorated, he pressed his hand against your back, pushing you head first, into the mattress whilst parting your legs to run his fingers through your wet cunt. He wasted no time in executing the second part of your punishment the way his fingers glided through your folds, toying with your clit. Already needy and dripping despite the harsh treatment. “Look at you.” His voice held no form of adoration like it usually did whenever he admired your form. Instead, they were filled with condescension. “Undeserving of what’s being given.”

His words hung over you like threads had woven themselves into each syllable to taunt you further. You felt one of his hands press into your upper shoulder while his other continued working their way through your, avoiding your clit. The sound of his rich laughter ghosted through the air as he mocked the way you squirmed, turned into a hiss as he sunk them deep inside and crooked them directly towards your sweet spot. In no way were you allowed to shift away from his wicked touch as his hand curled around the back of your neck.

“F-Fuck! P–…lease! God I hate you!” you cried out, finally finding your voice to match his tempo. Your fingers curled into the sheets, fisting at it due to your lack of sight and inability to turn your head and glare at him. The immediate trembling of your body as he continued to twist and crook his finger through your slick, releasing a loud and lewd squelching signalled how close you already were.

But Fingolfin was always a mile ahead of you in terms of making a comeback because he wasted no time growling. “That’s a lot of words coming from a smart mouth that was unable to produce a single Valarin lexicon for your orals. Since when did you get so clever?”

Before you could reply, using the grip around your neck, he hoisted you to your knees and pressed the tips of his fingers against your sweet spot, bringing you close to the edge but never allowing you the release you craved. “Go ahead, mumble some more. Be a smart ass for me princess. Show me how skilled your pretty little tongue is!”

As his words left his lips, you didn’t have the chance to respond as his two fingers curled and thrust into you with blinding speed, leaving you trembling. Whining in choked sobs as drool dribbled down your chin as he squeezed the air out your lungs with his actions, you vibrated. There was nowhere for you to escape but his embrace that loomed behind like a menacing figure with purpose. With every torturous rub, your body bowed and buckled like a worm, and he laughed with a deep rumble in his chest, revelling in the pleasure of your reactions. Nevertheless, this was all a walk in the park the more his fingers flexed against your spongey walls, feeling them clamp around him like a vice grip. “‘M sorry, daddy. Won’t…do…again.”

“Sound to me like you would," he scoffed. “Your cunt seems to enjoy my fingers...feel how tight she is around me. Gripping me with absolute want.” Indeed he was right. Your walls clung to him, refusing to let him slip out smoothly and forcefully sucking him back in deeper.

You shook your head as high-pitched squeals slipped out, your hips moving on their own accord, matching the rhythm of his fingers.

“Really? Do you think I should let you cum, hm? After your poor performance that I spent thousands of dollars on for the best results,” he hissed in your ear, nibbling on the lobe and giving it small tugs before dipping his head to bite the junction of your shoulder. “You gave me nothing good in return except a pathetic excuse. Do I not spoil you enough? Answer me!”

Your fingers found a way to dig into his thighs, unfortunately, they were still covered in his pants, reducing your attempts at marking him. However, it provided support for the wicked torment he delivered. You were constantly trapped in purgatory as his fingers provided pleasure while denying you relief. “P-Plea—”

“Pardon? I didn’t hear you,” he reminded in a patronising tone. His eyes fluttered upwards to glance at you through his dark lashes, enjoying the way your face twisted as the waves of pleasure came on harder. “Speak up, loud and clear, or you’ll regret it.”

Choking on a silent scream, your breath came out in pants and broken sighs. “Oh fuck, please! Just let me cum!”

“You don’t deserve to cum,” he taunted, pulling his hand away just as you were about to orgasm. “Not yet.”

Ignoring your pathetic cries, his hand around your neck travelled down your back to position you into a foul arch while he kicked your legs apart. Easily he wasted no time positioning himself behind you, undoing his trousers—erection spring free, heavy with want and anger at the wait—and rubbing the tip of his aching cock through your puffed-up folds, deeply inhaling at the sensation of your wetness coating him. You were dripping wet, just the way he enjoyed having you for every session. All flushed with ache and want, begging him to put out the flames and stuff you till thy kingdom come.

And indeed he loved every second of the torture he took, applying his patience as he rubbed your clit and nudged it with his tip. Your cries went in one ear and escaped the other without care since you didn’t have any regard for the finances you wasted. Then, without warning, he pushed into you roughly, a sharp contrast to the teasing touches from before. “You don’t get to enjoy this,” he growled, not wasting a second to build his tempo, and going directly for the kill. “This is for me, not you. You’re not the one frustrated and in need of relief after your stunt—you could never be.”

It turned out that learning of your failure at the same time one of his clients entered a lawsuit, created a torrent of pent-up frustration. His plan was to spend the entire evening with you—not much had changed, only with a minor adjustment of your orgasmic denial and increase of roughness.

One hand, firm around your neck while the other gripped your hips, you were forced into a profoundly painful arch to take the rough pounding of his hips meeting your ass. Every thrust caused his cock to faintly brush against your sweet spot, tickling your sensitivity and never granting you a reprieve. With great precision, Fingolfin ensured that you felt every vein on his cock and thrust, as he pushed deeper and harder with dominance. You could feel the way his veins rubbed your walls just right, fitting in all the cracks and crevices just the way you were moulded from the start. At the same time, it was disgusting that he hadn’t removed his clothes to grant you the opportunity to let you feel his silky skin on yours.

You wanted to feel the ripple of his muscles as he clenched and flexed his thighs against your body the deeper and harder he went. This materialistic barrier only fuelled your anxiety at the wreck of punishment this was turning out to be.

“Even when being…punished, you’re still wet…and tight. Fuck!” he groaned. “Do you think you deserve to cum?”

“S-Sir, p–…please. ‘M sorry,” you cried out, hands fisting the sheets as you sought after your orgasm. “Won’t…do…again…”

“Of course, you would not perform that same stunt again,” he growled and tightened his grip on your hip. His rapid, deep strokes never stopped as he pressed you into the bed, pinning you under his weight. “You wouldn’t want to miss the feeling of my cock in your pussy, would you? How good it feels to claim you over and over again as mine.”

Squeaking, unable to form a coherent reply, he slowed his pace and pulled all the way out, leaving his tip inside before pushing back in roughly. Your body rattled, the air knocked out of your lungs and the scream lodged in your throat. Soundless sobs were your relief as you prayed he would grant you mercy with each powerful thrust from his cock. And yet, he continued to purposefully miss your sweet spot, aiming to get himself off alone. “Do you understand now? he asked as he leaned down, voice deeply rooted in your ear as he panted. “Do you understand what happens when you lie to me? Failing is one thing, but lying to me…”

You could only nod—or hope that you did—your voice lost in the intensity of the moment. Only the sound of his hips meeting your ass and his cock sliding in and out of your wet cunt echoed. Like music to his ears on a stressful day. His grip was unyielding as he continued to pound into you, slow and deep, relishing in the power he held over you. Each thrust was a reminder of his authority in your life.

The elaborate rolls of his hips and the articulate angle of his cock left you in a frenzy. He did everything to miss your sweet spot, focusing on pleasuring his cock with the softness and warmth you provided. The lewd echoes of his cock penetrating deeper fuelled your pussy to grow wetter, on the verge of squirting, but not quite there. Ever so rarely, he would laugh in your ear as you attempted to squeeze him, wanting him to stay longer. The sweet grips of your lips around him was sinful and made his head spin.

You were going to be the dead of him. No wonder why he picked you at first sight. It was pure instincts telling him how good you would feel wrapped around him even if you were to disappoint. Your pussy had a magic to it that he couldn’t get enough off—the relentless pounding and groans told it all. He’d always choose to fuck you as his life depended on it as a punishment, and who were you to resist.

There was a moment when you could barely keep it together as your head started spinning. Toes curling into the bedsheets, nails fisting the pillows, and head buried into the mattress, you muffled your whines as he finally brushed his tip against you. But you should have known his strategy from the start. Rapid and deep thrusts against it left you fighting for your life as the fire pooled in your abdomen. Your walls clamped harder around him, forcing his pace to stutter and pants to turn into groans.

“You like that...don’t you? You wanna cum all over my cock for free,” he groans, gyrating his hips to rub his tip against your sweet spot. “Maybe I should let you, but not now.”

And with ease, his groans turned into deep grunts before you felt his cock pulsating and his thrusts faltering. The fluid motion of his hips stuttered as he tried to continue the powerful rolls of his hips, wanting the sound of his heavy balls to slap loudly against your wet pussy. Yet soon, with a satisfied groan, Fingolfin’s hips stilled, and his grip tightened around your neck and hips, as he spilled his hot, sticky cum inside you. He was quick and sharp to pull out, dabbing his forehead to remove any beads of sweat while gazing at your trembling, weeping form that held his cum, slowly oozing out.

Straightening his posture and rising to full height, he gave a light tap to your ass and commanded. “Get up. On your knees on the floor, now,” he muttered, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt to discard it, along with his trousers. He observed how clumsy you were as you carefully climbed off the bed and onto the floor to kneel before him. Reaching out to grip your chin, he focused you on his authoritative figure towering above with his rigid cock, pronounced and ready for another round. Even with the blindfold covering your eyes, you could feel the intensity of his gaze burning holes into yours.

“I want you to remember this night carefully because I would hate to repeat this all over again,” he whispered lowly, cupping your chin to tilt your head upwards and running his thumb over your lips. “Now part your pretty lips for me while the night is still young. I have a lesson to teach…”

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @rain-on-my-umbrella @mysticmoomin @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @aconstructofamind @sakurayaxd @addaigio @elficially-done-with-life @involuntaryspasms @eunoiaastralwings

[hobisexually]

x

[sutorus]

THE GRUDGE PROFESSOR!GETO for KINKTOBER 2023!

DESCRIPTION: everybody loves professor geto, and judging by the thousands of viewers you get on every live, a lot of people love you, too. but you and professor geto hate each other. you’ve had enough of his humiliation rituals, and decide to do something about it.

PAIRING: mean professor!geto x student!reader

WC: 5.3k i am an unstoppable beast

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. fem reader, afab reader, teacher/student dynamic! adult age gap! (reader is in college, unspecified age), sw/camgirl!reader (don’t like don’t read! no shaming 😤), strong language, dirty talk, pet names (sweetheart, baby, angel, darling), reader calling geto "sir", unprotected relations, creampie, afab reader and terms

A/N: this switches between povs a lot so i hope that’s okay or at least readable lol! also i set out to write him so much meaner but he’s just kind of a simp... enjoy?

reblogs are very much appreciated i'll uwu for u :pleading eyes emoji:

it is said that those who cannot do, teach. 

geto suguru could have done many things. he had the brains, the muscles, the features, the traits. the ambition to succeed in any field he desired. satoru says in a world ruled by the strong there is no place for humility. 

but humility is not why suguru became a teacher. neither is ineptitude. no, he’d become a teacher because it was the right thing to do. 

to use his gifts to help shape new generations, help unlock potentials long dorment and buried deep under years of a lackluster schooling system. geto suguru prided himself, above all, in being a righteous man. 

but japan’s most upstanding citizen for 28 years in a row held a shameful secret. a secret in the shape of you. 

he saw the darkest sides of himself on your face (eyebrows scrunched, eyes shut tightly, jaw slack as you—), your voice (higher in pitch with desperate moans that sound almost scared on the brink of your—), your body (taut and plump in all the right places, glistening with sweat, bouncing up and down on a—). 

when you walked into his classroom that fateful day, the world tilted on its axis. his first thought was, fuck, then, it can’t be, then, most embarrassing of all, i’ll finally find out what she smells like. 

(he did, when you went up to his desk to hand over your test. a whiff of vanilla, argon oil shampoo. too sweet, too youthful. and he’d watched you leave, tennis skirt flowing like a water lily, dick already chubby in his pants.)

it was slowly starting to consume him.

the first time you spoke in class, he knew he hadn’t been mistaken. it was really you. the cute, slutty girl he’d been milking his cock to for the better part of a year. 

god, when you finally said his name. you would never in your wildest dreams think that he’d been imagining those words coming out of your mouth, of him coming out of your mouth, dripping out of you, all over you—

he was losing it. this was not like him. this was never supposed to happen, and he has to put an end to it. 

everybody knew of geto suguru, the prodigy professor. already getting a phd despite not even being 30, handling the administrative slack for the department while managing office hours every day of the week, promoting student events, helping organize spirit weeks and charity drives. 

everything he did, he did for others. those not as capable as him — which was most people. in other words, it was really, really hard to hate him. 

but you damn well managed to. 

and to think you were excited to take his class. everybody told you to run, not walk, to sign up for his twentieth-century Japanese philosophy chair. 

“oh, professor geto is just the best,” they’d said. “he makes it sound so interesting and engaging, he gives the most life changing assignments, he really cares about us.”

bullshit. 

the first time you stepped into that classroom, suspiciously full for a philosophy class, you felt a shift in the air almost immediately. 

and sure enough, professor geto suguru was eyeing you down like he’d just seen a ghost. it made you self conscious, like he’d taken one look at you and decided right then and there you were too dumb for the class. 

it made your blood boil. sure, you stood out a little bit from the actual philosophy majors, but that doesn’t mean he gets to judge you. he literally doesn’t know you!

but fine, first impressions are tricky like that. for all you knew, you could’ve been misjudging him right there. 

however, with each passing day, you grew more and more assured in your suspicions.

you knew the man had it out for you, always calling on you to answer when he knew you weren’t paying attention, never grading your papers above a B even though you did everything right, somehow managing to fucking avoid you during his excessive office hours. 

his looks were almost the most infuriating part of it.

his beautiful face constantly set in that nonchalant look, his big veiny hands always gesticulating, his huge fucking arms straining the fabric of those dress shirts, his ear gauges and man bun contrasting the prim and proper image the rest of him conveyed. 

under different circumstances, he’d make your mouth water. under different circumstances, you’d imagine him going down on you all night long, singing praise about how good you taste and how tight you are. 

but in this timeline, you absolutely loathed him. and he loathed you too. why? you didn’t know. 

but you knew for a fact that it was personal. 

“i don’t care,” megumi said around a mouthful of meatball, cutting your monologue short. “i’m not doing it.”

you sigh, melting into your chair. “megumi. please. i am literally begging you, i just need some hard evidence so i can go report his ass.”

he eyes you curiously. “report him for what?”

“i don’t know. bullying? sexism? whatever the hell his problem is,” you pick at your food, huffing in annoyance. 

“you’re overthinking it,” megumi replies, dismissively. 

“okay, how about this,” you lean forward, putting an elbow on the table. “if you write the assignment for me, i’ll get your dog that expensive halloween costume you’ve been wanting.”

megumi lifts an eyebrow. 

“you need to get one for each,” he says simply. 

you grin. “deal.”

suguru really does give it his all to make your life with him a living hell. pulls out all the stops, years of friendship with gojo satoru paying off as he comes up with ploy after ploy to get you to drop his class. 

it feels bad, being mean to you. but for the hidden, twisted parts of him, it feels delicious. 

watching you huff and puff, all hot and bothered when he corrects your answers on the spot. watching you nibble on your pen at the increasingly difficult exams he hands out. letting himself wonder if you missed a stream this week because you were too busy cramming for a make up test. 

he knows he’s pushing you to your limit, and even if there’s some sort of sick satisfaction in seeing you so agitated at his hands when it’s usually the other way around, he doesn’t enjoy upsetting you. 

the problem is, suguru knows it’s either he gets his shit together or he continues tormenting you, and, well. 

the spirit is willing but the flesh is so, so weak. 

he knows it’s getting worse, too, because he’s not infatuated by you only when you’re undressing on his screen, or all dolled up in class. 

when you tie your hair up in a ponytail, when you suck on a hangnail, when you lick your thumb to erase a smudge on your paper… all of it drives him wild. 

he can’t teach with a permanent half chub anymore. this has to end, one way or another. 

you sit down in front of your computer, adjusting the camera before turning it on. soon, viewers start trickling in, little dings notifying you of their messages. 

you smile, waving at the screen. 

“hi everyone! i know i’m a little bit late today, i hope you can forgive me…” your eyes scan the chat, giggling at the compliments. “‘you look tired, sad face’, ah. i’m sorry. i guess i’ve been a little stressed lately.”

your robe falls over your shoulder as you readjust your position. a few donations come in, accompanied by supportive messages.

“you guys are so nice. it’s not a big deal, it’s just this dude giving me a hard time at college.” 

you absentmindedly trace your collarbones, reading what your viewers are saying. 

“you’ll kill him for me? that’s so sweet,” you joke. “nah, it’s not a student. it’s a professor. exactly, ynlover444, a grown ass man picking on me!”

you sigh deeply, allowing your body to finally unwind and relax on your chair. you prop a knee up against the armrest, giving your viewers a little peek in between your legs. you’re wearing one of your favorite sets, trying to get in the mood after the week you’ve had. 

“ugh, sometimes i wish i could just…” you suck in a breath, clenching your hand into a fist before releasing it. “sit on his face and get him to shut up, you know?”

you laugh at the countless me firsts that flood the chat, bringing a finger to your lip. 

“anyway! enough about that horrible man,” you reach beside you to grab a box your viewers know all too well by now. “let’s get to the fun stuff, shall we?”

as always, satoru is no help. 

“why don’t you just fuck her?” he asks, eyebrows arching above his sunglasses. “ya gotta just fuck her.”

suguru clears his throat before taking a drag of his cigarette. “i’m not fucking a student.”

satoru shrugs. “everybody does it. besides, you basically already do.” 

suguru wonders, not for the first time, why he ever told his friend about his situation. about your streams, that he’d stumbled upon randomly and innocently and had gotten instantly hooked, about you barging into his classroom like an angel at hell’s gates, about you you you you, everything about you. 

“that won’t fix anything.”

satoru clicks his tongue, swirling his soda inside the can.

“poor, naive suguru. did you not just tell me about what she said on her stream?" and yes, regrettably, suguru had told him. "it’ll fix everything.”

suguru doesn’t even let himself consider it, except he does.

at this point it’s no secret that he’s thought about being inside you, but now that you’re here it’s just too real and too risky and completely fucking wrong. 

it goes against the entire life he’s built for himself. 

he’s lost. he wants you so fucking bad, wants you close, wants you so far away, wants to ravage you and never have to see you again. 

it’s fight or flight. if he got you alone, it could go either way, he realizes that. 

suguru wonders what part of him will win by the end of all of this. 

your heels clack on the linoleum floor of the hallway as you approach professor geto’s classroom, megumi’s graded paper clutched tightly against your chest. 

the thing about megumi is that he's a star student. he’s never gotten anything below an A on any of his essays, makes the dean’s list every year, tutors his seniors. so the big, bright B- on the page tells you everything you need to know. 

damn right it’s personal. 

you don’t even bother knocking, slamming the door open while still trying to contain your indignation. 

geto is sitting at his desk, piles of papers sprawled on top. he has his white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows and a surprised look on his face that would be cute if you didn’t want to slap it right off. 

he says your last name like he’d been expecting you all his life.

“to what do i owe the pleasure?”

your jaw clenches as you take a few loud steps towards him. you slam megumi’s paper down on his desk, leaning over. 

“professor geto, i demand an explanation. a real one, this time.”

the man takes a deep breath, lips twisting disapprovingly. he smoothes the paper over.

“as i already explained in my notes right here, the structure is fine, but i couldn’t help but miss a more in-depth analysis of the four nodal concerns of philosophy that we talked about in class, such as—“

“no,” you interrupt. “just no. you know you’re bullshitting me and i’m sick of it. this paper deserved an A!”

“miss—“

“what’s your problem with me?” you spit out. your eyes finally meet and there’s nothing in geto’s that could answer your question. your chest is heaving, lips wobbling and hands shaking, trying to contain your anger. 

geto clears his throat, visibly uncomfortable. “like i said, your paper could’ve used a bit more—“

“no it fucking couldn’t have, because it’s not my fucking paper, it’s fushiguro’s fucking paper and the only reason you gave it a B is because i was the one who handed it in!”

he sits up, straightening his posture.

geto sounds austere when he asks, “do you realize how much trouble this could be for both of you if i reported it?”

you can’t believe this man. he’s been picking on you the entire semester and when you finally confront him about it this is what he chooses to focus on. 

“are you fucking kidding me?” that earns you a stern look from him, eyebrow raising taller than that fucking high horse he sits on. “professor geto. what did i ever do to you?”

there must be something earnest in your voice because geto sighs, getting up from his chair. 

he walks until he’s standing in front of you, leaning against his desk and crossing his feet. 

“do i bother you?” is all he says. it surprises you. 

you jut your chin out. “as a matter of fact, you do.”

the man hums. 

“i bet that’s really difficult for you,” he speaks like he’s sympathetic, like he understands. he sounds almost sheepish when he says, “i bet sometimes you wish i would just shut up.”

you blink rapidly. “no, it’s not like that. it might shock you but i genuinely do enjoy your class, it’s just that—“

“or maybe you wish you could shut me up,” he continues, ignoring you. “maybe going as far as to say that you could… sit on my face to get me to shut up.” 

your mouth goes dry.

before your brain can fully process the shift in the atmosphere or the fact that your professor is maybe possibly hitting on you, you realize where those words are coming from. 

it’s what you said. about him. on stream. right before fucking yourself on your hot pink dildo. 

you can’t speak, can barely even look in his general direction. 

you had really thought things couldn’t get any worse. had barged into his office with nothing to lose, almost hoping he would cordially invite you to remove yourself from his class permanently. 

but now? now you have no idea what’s going to happen to you. 

“i…” you start, the words dying in your throat. geto chuckles, crossing his fat fucking muscly arms across his chest. 

he says your name, low and syrupy. “is it true? you’d like to?”

you can feel your face flush hot in embarrassment, and you shift your weight from one foot to the other, wishing desperately that you’d never walked into his classroom. 

you have half the mind to apologize to him, right now.

“it’s just a figure of speech,” you try. geto clicks his tongue. 

“what a shame.”

your wide eyes shoot up and meet his. “w-what?”

he smiles sweetly. 

“it’s a peace offering. you can take it, or we can forget you ever said anything,” and isn’t he just so slimey, actually, when he’s the one who brought it up. he had said it, and now… 

now you can finally allow yourself to look at him.

those delicious, broad shoulders, the ever-present bored look, the stubborn fringe that falls out of his bun. 

you could so easily forget what you came here for. 

“so, like, a truce?” you ask, taking a daring step forward. geto nods, uncrossing his arms. “and you stop treating me like i’m fucking dumb?”

he tilts his head. “i think you’re a very smart young lady. determined. entrepreneurial…”

“geto—“

“professor geto,” he corrects you, hands reaching out to graze your hips. “you’re intelligent. i just like to push my students.”

you both know that’s a lie, but it’s okay, because now you know exactly why you got under his skin and it makes your own burn. 

you run a hand down the line of buttons on the front of his shirt, looking up at him through your eyelashes. 

“then… push me, professor.”

it’s so incredibly lame, the porn line you hit him with, but to your surprise it works, a low groan rumbling deep in geto’s chest. 

he swiftly closes the distance between the two of you, grabbing both sides of your face and crashing your lips together. 

it’s ravenous, the way geto dips his tongue inside when you gasp in surprise. you moan against his mouth, slipping a leg in between his two. 

he’s half hard already when he rubs up against your thigh. 

geto picks you up with ease and sets you down on his desk, and it’s so fucking cliché, the papers crinkling under your weight, the pens clattering to the floor. but it turns you on beyond belief. 

you share a few open mouthed kisses, an exchange of tongue and moans and hot breaths between your lips. 

if you were honest with yourself, you'd admit that you've fantasized about it before. a silly idea, at first, something you'd just blurted out mid-stream.

but that little seed had been planted, and when you got yourself off that night, you might've imagined for a moment that it was your mean professor's cock squeezed tight inside you, making you come undone.

geto slips his hands under your skirt, grabbing your ass and pulling you closer to him. you line up your crotch with his, moving your hips in tight little circles that make the both of you groan. 

his fingers are tugging your underwear down, down, the soft patch sticking to your gooey cunt. he lets the soaked fabric dangle from your ankle, grazing the back of his knuckles on your core. 

“mmm, fuck,” geto breaks the kiss, swallowing. his pretty lips are flushed and shiny, parted around his panted breaths. “you always get this wet or am i special?”

he’s smirking, the bastard, leaning back in to kiss your neck.

god, you smell so good, like lotion and perfume and sunshine and sin. 

“shouldn’t you know?” you sneak your fingers up into his bun, pushing your chest against him. he works his lips expertly on your skin, using just the right amount of teeth, of pressure.

geto hums against your neck, kissing a line up to your jaw. he snakes a hand under your skirt, thumb pressing down hard to rub on your clit, two fingers slipping inside. 

you immediately clench, a soft, drawn out mewl leaving your lips. 

the slide of his fingers against your walls send a chill down your spine, filling you up so perfectly. you feel the thin skin at your opening stretch around him, burning at the friction as his fingers plunge in and out of you. 

“god, look at that,” he rests his forehead on your shoulder and pulls the hem of your skirt up. “do you hear that, baby? so fucking wet for me.”

you whine, hands cupping his jaw so you can kiss him again. 

“please…” you mumble against his lips. “more…”

you wonder how much of what you can say he's heard before, which exact words have left your lips and sent him over the edge. it makes you self conscious, oddly, like he can see right through you.

not-so-kindly ignoring your request, geto removes his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth.

you watch as his eyelids flutter in pleasure, a hum rumbling low in his throat. 

he looks so good like this, just edible.

you pull him in for a kiss before he can, relishing in the surprised little noise he lets out. your knees are wobbling, feet dangling from your seat as you taste yourself on his tongue. 

he swallows your moan hungrily, forearms trembling with the need to hold back.

geto knows this is wrong, so wrong on so many levels, puts both your positions in jeopardy, it makes him feel perverted and primal and so fucking alive. 

he’s been watching you fuck yourself on those silly toys for god knows how long now, knows every spot that makes your hips buck, knows exactly how to make you cream like a debased slut around a cock. 

it should feel unfair, how easy it’s going to be for him to make you cum, only if it weren’t for the fact that your mere presence is enough to get him hard as fucking diamonds. 

“tastes good, huh?” he whispers, thumb caressing your chin. you nod, smiling devilishly. 

“tastes better on your tongue, prof.” 

geto groans low like a starved animal, holding your throat in his hand with a loose grip. he’s overwhelmed, that much shows, not knowing what to do with you or where to start. but there’s one thing he’s sure of. 

he presses one last kiss to your spit-slick lips before dropping to his knees. 

you can hardly believe it. sulky, big bad bully professor geto suguru on his knees for you. you prop a foot up on his desk, your sole skidding on a piece of paper. 

“scoot closer, please,” he asks, cordial even like this. you bring your ass to the edge of the desk, your dripping pussy hovering over his face. 

he looks so good under you, hair already disheveled, a delicious tent in his tailored pants. 

you tuck the hem of your skirt into the waistline so you can watch as he sucks your clit into his mouth, moaning like he’s fucking relieved. 

you throw your head back, fingers buried in his silky hair as geto’s fingers find their way back inside. 

he fucks them in and out of you lazily, pushing out strings of slick. geto slurps it all up, spreading your wetness all over your clit and sucking it back in his mouth. 

god, his cock is straining in his pants but he doesn’t dare touch it, can’t until he’s inside you. you taste like fucking heaven, like all his fantasies, like he always knew you would. 

you’re whining softly, bucking your hips into his face almost shyly, as to disrupt his pace.

you sound so much better in person, although he can’t wait to have you moaning into his ear without needing the headphones. 

“god, this perfect pussy,” geto mumbles into you, his breathing labored. he runs a thumb all over your cunt, gliding it over your soaked lips. “been dreaming about it for so long.”

“yeah?” you ask. “tell me. tell me how you stroke your cock to me every night.”

and every night might be overselling it. geto is a busy man. 

but your words do make him realize that no girl he’s had since he found your stream has satisfied him quite like you do. your flirty smile, your moans, the way they sometimes turn into uncontained giggles as you stuff your pretty cunt with a dildo. 

so he tells you, blush spreading across his cheeks. 

“fuck, i do,” he tongues your clit, tracing lazy circles. “i do. just look what you do to me.“

and there it is, that cheeky, slutty giggle, directed at something he said this time. 

he takes his fingers out, spreading your opening with both thumbs as he licks you all over. 

geto gulps, tongue dipping inside of you, sucking your clit into his mouth, sliding down to your entrance, every clench of your pussy pushing out more and more slick for him. no one's ever eaten you out as thoroughly as this.

“oh, fuck, sir,” it slips out casually, the way it would were you talking to any other professor. but given the circumstances, you revel in the deep moan geto buries into your cunt. 

you trap your lips between your teeth to keep anything else from tumbling out, but it’s useless.

“please, sir, i’m so close—so close just keep doing that, yeah just like that—“

“fuck,” he mumbles, pulling away to suck in a desperate breath. then, “fuck,” sultrier, right into your core. 

you grind against his face, finding purchase in his hair as a final few flicks of his tongue push you right into the crest of a mind-numbing orgasm.

it’s so good, so much better than when you're alone. the friction so perfect, his long, thick fingers plugging you up last minute to viciously fuck into you. 

“god…,” you breathe out, legs trembling as he runs his hands up your thighs. 

his chin is glistening, bubbles of spit and cum gathering in the corner of his mouth. he looks so good like this, like he was meant to please you and nothing else. 

geto feels like a fucking teenager, so goddamn close to busting in his pants at the sight of you. his dick hurts, balls tight and the head throbbing where it’s tucked into his underwear. 

“please, sweetheart,” he can’t hold himself back any longer, slick fingers already undoing his belt. 

you get to work on his zipper, pulling his pants down along with his underwear and damn. 

you figured he was big. he was a tall man, broad shoulders, shoes the size of a yacht, and the bulge in his trousers was a pretty good indication. but it couldn’t have prepared you for the sheer size of him. 

longer than it is thick, cleanly shaven, pretty veins and ridges and standing angry red in attention. god, you want it inside you. 

he notices you looking. 

“do you need more prep? i can—“

“no, fuck no, suguru, need it inside me now,” you wrap a hand around him and he hisses, caging you in with his arms on the desk. 

he huffs out a laugh, blowing the fringe framing his face. “what happened to sir?”

you kiss down his jaw, squeezing right below his tip. 

“sorry, sir,” you say against his ear. “are you going to punish me for my slip up?”

geto groans, pulling on your hair hard and making you face him. 

“take your shirt off for me,” he instructs, and you obey, maneuvering around his tight grip on the back of your head. 

his spirit is so unbreakable.

here you are, teasing him, coaxing him to rough you up, push you around, relieve both your frustrations properly once and for all, but he’s just so… adoring, and hungry, and just so irrevocably into you, and you find out that’s so much better. 

geto relents his hold on you to unclasp your bra, cupping your breasts and sucking a nipple into his mouth. you whine, caressing his hair. 

“so fucking perfect,” he massages your tits, looking mesmerized. 

“yeah? they haven’t gotten old to you yet?”

he laughs, so cute, and you can barely remember that just hours ago you hated the sight of him. you stroke his cock up and down, squeezing harder at the tip trying to milk all that delicious pre he’s been wasting on the inside of his boxers. 

“no, f-fuck—never gonna get old,” he pushes your boobs against each other, imagining his cock sliding in between them, his balls nestled underneath, his load blown all over your pretty face—

fuck, he’s gonna cum if he keeps going like this. 

he rips your hand away from him, ignoring your knowing smirk and pushing his tongue into your mouth. 

“i’m gonna fuck you now, okay, sweetheart?” you moan, nodding, shimmying your hips so he can have the perfect angle. 

a big hand clasps your thigh to wrap your leg around his hips as his tip pokes around your entrance.

you’re whining in anticipation, clenching around nothing, nails clawing his clothed back. 

when he slips in, it feels like coming home. you’re like warm honey around him, cunt pushing him out but clinging to him at the same time, with every stroke. it’s fucking maddening. 

“ahh, g-god, sir, ‘s too big—“ you swallow around the lump in your throat, feeling the tip of his cock in your guts. 

he’s huffing, concentrated, bullying his cock into you inch by inch with shallow thrusts until he finally bottoms out. 

“fuuuuck, angel,” he grips your waist with both hands, like he could just fuck you up and down his length if he wanted to. “took me so well, look at that.”

you do, dropping your heavy head to look at where you’re connected. you clench around him and he whines, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in. 

the metal legs of the desk skid on the floor, papers and pens raining down to the floor as geto starts roughly plunging in and out of you. 

you let out little ah, ah, ahs in time with his strokes, the ache deep in your stomach finally starting to fade. 

“f-fuck, you’re gonna—topple us over, suguru, go easy—“

“can’t,” he chokes out, wheezing as he pushes his cock in as far as it can go. 

he gives shallow little thrusts, his length straining the fine skin at your entrance so good, hitting a spot inside you over and over that makes your head spin. 

your fingers twist into the back of his shirt, pulling him in to whine right into his ear.

he’s so big, stretching you out so thin that you feel every ridge and vein, can feel both your heartbeats inside your cunt. 

“ohhhhh fuck, fuck sir, please please touch me—“

he grabs your ass before you can even finish your sentence and presses you flush against his hips. 

geto’s tip is kissing your cervix now, his balls sticky and creamy against your ass, your clit grinding against his pubic bone as his thrusts violently shake the both of you. 

“fuck, wanna do it so fucking loud but i can’t, we can’t, what if someone walks in—“

you moan wantonly at his words, expecting to be chided, but geto seems to love it despite his worries because his cock kicks deliciously inside of you.

“look how loud you’re being, listen to yourself,” he grunts out, the belt pooled around his feet clanging with every stroke, the absolutely lewd squelches from your pussy resonating in the entire classroom. 

you two sound so good together, better than you’ve ever had, better than he could’ve ever imagined. 

“so loud, so wet on this cock,” he spits out, sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead. “do those toys make you feel this good? this full? answer me.” 

“hahh, n-no, no one but you,” you can’t think straight, head thrown back in pleasure and eyes squeezed shut. “only you, sir.”

geto whines like he’s aching, pounding into you mercilessly and making a mess under the two of you. 

“fuck yeah, that’s right. i’m making you feel good, baby?”

“mm-hm,” you mumble, tongue lolling out. geto's going so hard now, has you pressed up so tight against him, body caging you in, fucking every breath and thought right out of you. “close.”

“yeah?” he speeds up his effort slightly, and you’re sure he’s going to have desk-edge shaped bruises on his thighs tomorrow. “gonna cum on my cock? cream all over me?”

you let out a long, drawn out whine, tits bouncing up and down with the force of geto’s thrusts. 

“let me see your face when you cum, darling,” he cups the back of your neck, breathing hard through his nose. “keep your eyes on me. that’s right, sweetie, so good, you’re doing so good.”

you preen at the praise, feeling suddenly self conscious with the man's laser focus attention on you. 

you coo out little noises, growing in desperation, holding onto his biceps for dear life as his hips piston in and out of you. 

your pull him into you closer and rub your clit against him, grinding helplessly as your orgasm creeps closer and closer. 

the moment you open your eyes and meet his hungry ones, you’re cumming. your walls spasm around him, making the glide of his dick impossibly wetter with your release. 

geto chokes on a sound, his cock hostage of your pussy’s vice-like grip as your greedy cunt milks him for all he's got. 

“f-fuck, baby, look so pretty when you cum, always look so fucking sexy so fucking perfect that you’re gonna make me bust, i’m gonna cum for you god gonna cum inside, gonna blow my load all deep inside this pussy—“ 

it’s the most desperate he’s ever sounded, speaking through clenched teeth and a soaked mouth. you moan in return, letting him use you. 

he slams his forehead down your shoulder when he thrusts once, twice, three times and cums, his balls drawing up so tight that it hurts. he fucks it into you with shallow thrusts, panting, almost wheezing in pleasure. 

it feels like it lasts forever, his orgasm. like all of the blood in his body goes straight to his balls to push out the thickest, most satisfying nut of his life into the prettiest girl he's ever seen.

you feel it fill you up so good, hear it, too, squelching and sticking to both of you. 

geto’s body slumps against yours and you stay like that for a while, catching your breaths. there’s cum sliding out of you, down his balls, onto some poor student’s essay you have your ass on top of. 

when he pulls out of you, he takes a beat to watch it spill out of you some more, his face and chest red, his smile groggy. 

“god, this,” geto has to fight the urge to say thank you for letting him fuck your brains out. he swallows. 

“yeah,” you blink away the haze, feeling sore and fucked out. “this.”

“…is probably going to happen again, right?”

he knows it shouldn’t. he knows it will.

maybe both parts of geto can learn to coexist.  

you grin, touching the tip of your tongue to his lips. 

“well, i still haven’t made good on that promise of sitting on your face, have i?” 

the next morning, in class, the students erupt in happiness at the news that professor geto had an accident that ended up ruining most of last week’s graded papers he had in his possession. 

so he decided to give everyone an A for their troubles. 

and finally, finally, there was peace in the world.

[janitorhutcherson]

olderbfyandere!mike schmidt

surprise, bitches!!! im giving yall a lil taste of some more writing. im not really on hiatus (obvi, i post every 5 minutes) but i've been sooooo busy that i haven't been able to post half as much. with that being said, here are some more in depth headcanons ab yandere!mike. :p could not have done this without @futturmand literally helping me (coming up w/) most of these. thank u bae.

warnings: drugging, violence, sex, daddy kink, abusive tendencies

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

olderbfyandere!mike schmidt was kinda an asshole. to his coworkers, random customers at the mall, anybody who came too close to you, and yes, even sometimes to you. he was the kind of guy who had a semi-permanent grimace on his face. the corners of his mouth would turn into smiles typically only when he was with abby or you two were alone and he could let his guard down. of course, even then, the moment you caught an attitude, that grimace would appear right back on his face. his demeanor was typically gruff. he was the kind of guy most people didn't want to mess with. this meant any male coworkers around you would be tested their fate to even glance at you the wrong way and god forbid mike saw one of them brush something off of your shoulder. that would truly be the end of them.

olderbfyandere!mike schmidt is very obsessive over safety. after losing garrett, he has this urge to do nothing but to protect. this means that mike is the type of guy to want your location at all times. not only that, but he wants to know what you're doing, who you're with, and what time you'll be home. he expects a text when you leave, a text when you get there, an hourly check-in, then a text on your way home. it brings him a sense of peace, knowing where you are. he watches life360 obsessively when you're not in his sight, watching your little bubble move through wherever you may be. he's constantly checking the speed of the car you're in, occasionally stalking your friend's instagram stories to see where you are. he's overprotective to the extent that it can be overbearing, but at the end of the day it's endearing knowing he cares that much.

olderbfyandere!mike schmidt uses the fact that you're younger than him to manipulate you. he's less about violence or anything physical and instead uses his words. he will constantly remind you how helpless you are without him, how he has so much more life experience than you. he'll point out randomly when you mention not knowing how to do something, saying something like, "see, babydoll, where would you be without me? that's right, nowhere. you need me to take care of you." he's also the kind of guy to eventually make you financially dependent on him if he could ever afford it. he would never put you in that spot until he was comfortable enough to do so, though, meaning it might be a loooong time before that ever happened.

olderbfyandere!mike schmidt treats you less like a partner and more like a little sibling, kinda like he treats abby. as strange as it is, he also feels a paternal instinct to protect you. it comes from his deep-rooted feelings of abandonment. he lost garrett, his mom, his dad, and sometimes he feels like abby hates him. he loves that you listen to him, that he can command you to do something and you'd be so good for him. he absolutely adores being able to control different aspects of your life, making you completely reliant on him. it makes him feel special and needed, which he hasn't felt in a very long time. he loves nothing more than when he gets to scold you almost like a parent, your eyes falling to the ground, that adorable wounded puppy look he loves so much taking over your face.

olderbfyandere!mike schmidt is incredibly clingy and touch starved. he wants to have a hand on you 24/7. forget having personal space, because you are not getting it with him. he'd follow you around, watching you everywhere you'd go. his hands would grip onto your hips so tightly sometimes it'd feel like they were glued to them. he'd always have his arms around you, kissing at your neck, nipping in a way you felt shouldn't be shown in public. mike didn't care, he wanted everyone to know you belonged to him in every single way. he controlled you, and if he wanted to embarrass you and turn your face red by leaving purple marks on your neck in the middle of a shopping plaza, then so be it. you would take it or be punished.

olderbfyandere!mike schmidt who of course uses his sleeping pills on you when you're being a little brat. he isn't violent with you for the most part except for the rare occasion when he will hold you down onto the bed until you'll listen, but otherwise he opts for something simpler. when you're being a little too frustrating for him, going against his every command or you're not feeling like being held, mike will simply crush up his sleeping pills, slip them into your water. he's careful with you once you doze off, never abusing you in any way. all he will do is tuck you into your shared bed and hold your body in his arms, whispering sweet nothings as you're off in your own sweetly drugged up world.

olderbfyandere!mike schmidt would most definitely have a thing for being called daddy. sorry guys, it had to be said. hot take, i guess. considering he did want to protect you so thoroughly, he loved when you'd call him daddy. it made him feel like your protector, like you knew he was the one that did everything for you. it was so crazy how such a simple word could change his whole day. he loved hearing it fall out of your lips as he'd brush through your hair or wash your body off in the shower. "thank you, daddy," you'd hum and he'd grin ear to ear. "you're welcome, babydoll," he'd always say, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Can you write something like Evil Queens WandaNat x maid reader? Like reader is a new make and she’s kinda shy and quiet because she doesn’t wanna draw attention to herself, but she ends up doing that anyway when she manages to get out a really bad bloodstain out of the carpet (cause yk Wanda and Natasha did sum evil muahahaha- I’m sorry) Anyways, the maids usually have a hard time getting out blood stains which usually leads to them getting fired or uh- yk. But R caught their attention cause she could and was suddenly appointed as their personal maid and uh yeah you go wherever you want from there

Stains of the Heart

EvilQueens!WandaNat x Maid!Fem!Reader

Summary: Though you try to keep yourself hidden amongst the rest of the maids the Queens you work for take notice of you after being able to clean up properly after a mess they've made.

Word Count: 2.8K

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, mentions of dark themes, mentions of blood, sexual themes

A/N: I feel like I could have made them more evil, but this is what came out as I wrote. These two took over~

The grand hall of the castle was eerily silent as the new maid, you, scurried about, nervously clutching your cleaning supplies. The atmosphere was thick with tension, an almost tangible sense of dread that had settled in ever since you had started working here. You were well aware of the fate of those who failed to meet the exacting standards of the castle's rulers, the formidable queens Wanda and Natasha.

You had heard the whispers among the other servants, the hushed tones speaking of what happened to those who displeased the queens. The stories were enough to make you keep your head down, blending into the background, hoping to avoid their notice.

Today was particularly nerve-wracking. A terrible incident had occurred the night before, leaving a significant bloodstain on the opulent carpet in one of the grand parlors. The maids who had tried to clean it before you had all failed, disappearing shortly after. You knew this was a test of your skills, one that could either secure your place in the castle or seal your doom.

With trembling hands, you set to work. You had always been meticulous, and today you put every bit of your knowledge to use. You mixed a special solution, carefully applying it to the stain. As you worked, you whispered a silent prayer, willing the stain to vanish.

Hours passed, but eventually, the carpet was spotless. You allowed yourself a small sigh of relief, barely daring to believe your success. You knew better than to draw attention to yourself, but as you packed up your supplies, you couldn’t help but feel a tiny spark of hope.

That hope was quickly dashed when you felt a presence behind you. Turning slowly, you found yourself face-to-face with Queen Wanda. Her piercing eyes seemed to bore into your soul, making you feel small and insignificant.

"What's your name?" she demanded, her voice smooth yet laced with an underlying threat.

"Y/N, Your Majesty," you replied, keeping your eyes downcast.

"You did this?" she asked, gesturing to the now pristine carpet.

"Yes, Your Majesty," you answered, your voice barely above a whisper.

She studied you for a moment, then nodded. "Impressive. Follow me."

Heart pounding, you followed her through the winding halls of the castle, eventually arriving at a grand chamber where Queen Natasha waited. Her eyes were just as intimidating as Wanda's, and you felt a shiver run down your spine under her scrutinizing gaze.

"This is the one?" Natasha asked, her voice cool and assessing.

"Yes," Wanda replied. "She has a talent."

Natasha approached you, her eyes never leaving yours. "We have a proposition for you," she said, her tone making it clear this was not a request. "You will become our personal maid. Fail us, and you know the consequences."

Your mind raced, but you knew there was only one answer. "Yes, Your Majesty," you agreed, bowing your head.

From that moment on, your life changed. You were no longer just another servant in the castle; you were under the direct scrutiny of the queens. They were demanding, their standards impossibly high, but you met each challenge with quiet determination.

As time passed, you learned more about them. Wanda, with her powerful presence and piercing gaze, and Natasha, with her calculating mind and cold demeanor. You discovered the complexities beneath their fierce exteriors, the reasons for their ruthlessness.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day, you found yourself alone with Wanda. She seemed different, almost... softer. "You surprise me, Y/N," she said, her voice thoughtful. "Most would have faltered by now."

"I'm just doing my best, Your Majesty," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

"And you do it well," she acknowledged, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

In that moment, you realized that perhaps there was more to your role than you had initially thought. Maybe, just maybe, you could find a place here, earn their trust, and uncover the secrets that lay beneath the surface of their reign.

But for now, you would continue to serve, keeping your head down, your skills sharp, and your heart guarded against the enigmatic allure of the evil queens.

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

Your days as the personal maid to Queens Wanda and Natasha had settled into a demanding yet predictable rhythm. The queens were strict, their expectations high, and every task carried the weight of your continued survival. Yet, amidst the constant pressure, you had begun to notice subtle shifts, particularly in Wanda's behavior towards you.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day, you were summoned to Wanda's private chambers. Your heart raced as you made your way through the dimly lit corridors, the flickering torchlight casting eerie shadows on the stone walls. You knocked softly on the heavy wooden door, waiting for her permission to enter.

"Come in," her voice called from inside, smooth and commanding.

You pushed the door open and stepped inside, closing it quietly behind you. Wanda was seated by the large window, her silhouette framed by the moonlight streaming in. She looked up as you entered, her expression unreadable.

"You wanted to see me, Your Majesty?" you asked, keeping your head slightly bowed in respect.

"Yes, Y/N," she replied, her tone softer than usual. "Come here."

You approached her cautiously, stopping a few feet away. She gestured for you to sit on the nearby cushioned chair, and you obeyed, sitting down with your hands clasped in your lap.

Wanda studied you for a moment, her eyes intense but not unkind. "You've been here for some time now," she began. "You've proven yourself capable, resourceful, and... loyal."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," you said quietly, unsure of where this conversation was leading.

She stood and moved closer to you, her presence both intimidating and strangely comforting. "Do you enjoy your work, Y/N?" she asked, her voice holding an unusual note of curiosity.

"I take pride in my work, Your Majesty," you replied carefully. "I strive to meet your expectations."

She reached out, gently lifting your chin so you were forced to meet her gaze. "You've exceeded them," she said softly, her thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

You felt a blush creep up your neck at her touch, your heart pounding in your chest. "Thank you, Your Majesty," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wanda's expression softened further, and she smiled—a rare and breathtaking sight. "You've done more than just meet expectations, Y/N," she said. "You've caught my attention."

You blinked in surprise, not daring to believe what you were hearing. "I... I'm honored, Your Majesty."

She chuckled softly, her eyes never leaving yours. "You've been so quiet, so diligent," she said. "But I see you, Y/N. I see your strength, your determination. And I find myself... intrigued."

Her words left you speechless, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through you. Wanda's hand moved from your chin to your cheek, her touch warm and tender. "Do not fear me," she whispered, leaning in closer. "I do not intend to harm you. Quite the opposite."

You swallowed hard, your mind racing. "What do you intend, Your Majesty?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

She smiled again, her lips tantalizingly close to yours. "I intend to show you my favor," she murmured, her breath warm against your skin. "To reward your loyalty and dedication."

Before you could respond, she closed the distance between you, her lips capturing yours in a soft, lingering kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you found yourself leaning into her, the world around you fading away.

When she finally pulled back, her eyes were filled with an emotion you couldn't quite decipher. "You are special, Y/N," she said quietly. "Remember that."

You nodded, still dazed from the kiss. "I will, Your Majesty."

Wanda's smile widened, and she gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. "Good. Now, go and rest. You have earned it."

You rose to your feet, feeling a strange mix of emotions. As you left her chambers and made your way back to your quarters, you couldn't help but wonder what the future held. Wanda's affection was both a blessing and a danger, and you knew you would have to navigate it carefully.

But for now, you allowed yourself a small moment of happiness, the memory of her kiss lingering on your lips as you drifted off to sleep.

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

The days following your intimate encounter with Queen Wanda were filled with a peculiar mixture of anxiety and anticipation. You carried on with your duties as usual, but there was an underlying tension in the air, a sense that something significant had shifted. Wanda's affectionate gaze lingered on you more often, and you couldn't help but wonder if others had noticed.

One afternoon, as you were meticulously arranging fresh flowers in the grand hall, you felt a presence behind you. Turning, you found yourself face-to-face with Queen Natasha. Her eyes were as cold and calculating as ever, but there was a new intensity in her gaze that made your pulse quicken.

"Y/N," she said, her voice low and authoritative. "Come with me."

Your heart pounded as you followed her through the labyrinthine corridors to a secluded study. Once inside, she closed the door with a quiet finality that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Sit," she commanded, pointing to a chair in front of a large, ornate desk.

You sat down, your hands clasped tightly in your lap, trying to steady your breathing. Natasha circled the desk and took a seat, her piercing eyes never leaving yours.

"I've noticed a change in Wanda," she began, her tone even but with an edge that made you nervous. "She seems... distracted. And I believe I know the reason why."

You swallowed hard, unsure of how to respond. "Your Majesty, I—"

Natasha held up a hand, silencing you. "Do not lie to me, Y/N. I am well aware of the kiss."

Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt a wave of panic. "I—"

"Do not be afraid," she said, leaning forward, her eyes narrowing. "I am not here to punish you. In fact, I have a proposition."

You blinked in surprise, the tension in the room thickening. "A proposition, Your Majesty?"

"Yes," Natasha replied, her voice dropping to a seductive whisper as she leaned closer. "Instead of simply being our maid, would you like to be our plaything?"

Your eyes widened, and your mind raced. The suggestion was both thrilling and terrifying. "Your Majesty, I—"

She reached out, taking your chin in her hand, her grip firm yet not painful. Her eyes bored into yours, making it clear that this was not a casual offer. "Wanda seems to have taken a liking to you that just won't go away," she continued. "And I will do whatever necessary to make her happy."

Her words sent a shiver through you, a mix of fear and desire coursing through your veins. How could you say no to them when everything about them made you want them? You took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice.

"Of course, Your Majesty," you replied, your voice trembling slightly. "It would be the highest of honors to serve you and Queen Wanda however you need."

A slow, satisfied smile spread across Natasha's lips. "Good," she purred, releasing your chin and leaning back in her chair. "You will continue with your duties as usual, but you will also be available to us whenever we desire. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," you said, nodding.

Natasha's smile widened, a predatory glint in her eyes. "Very well. You may go."

You rose from your chair, bowing your head respectfully. As you turned to leave, Natasha's voice stopped you.

"And Y/N," she added, her tone almost teasing, "do not disappoint us."

You nodded once more, then quickly left the room, your mind spinning. The proposition was both a dangerous game and an intoxicating possibility. As you resumed your duties, you couldn't help but wonder how this new dynamic would unfold, and what it would mean for your place in the castle.

That night, as you lay in bed, you couldn't shake the feeling of Natasha's intense gaze and Wanda's tender kiss. The queens had ensnared you in their web, and there was no turning back. You only hoped you could navigate their desires and demands without losing yourself in the process.

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

The past few weeks had been a whirlwind of intense and secretive encounters with the queens. Each interaction left you more entranced by their power and allure, yet there was always a lingering sense of danger. Wanda's tender kisses and Natasha's possessive touches had become a regular part of your life, blurring the lines between duty and desire. But until now, your encounters with them had remained separate.

Today was different.

You were summoned by Queen Wanda, a call that usually filled you with a mix of excitement and trepidation. Her affection was addictive, and you found yourself craving her attention more with each passing day. However, when you stepped into their private chambers, the sight that greeted you made your heart skip a beat.

Both queens were there, their regal clothes splattered with blood. Panic surged through you as you rushed over to them, your hands trembling as you cupped their cheeks, frantically checking for any cuts or stab wounds. To your immense relief, you found none.

"You're not hurt," you breathed, your voice filled with concern and confusion.

Natasha's grip on your wrist was sudden and firm, pulling you towards her. Her kiss was rough, almost punishing, and you found yourself melting into it despite the intensity. Her other hand tangled in your hair, holding you in place as her lips claimed yours. The taste of her was intoxicating, and you barely registered Wanda moving behind you until you felt her soft kisses trailing along your shoulders and neck.

Wanda's hands slipped around your waist, holding you gently but securely. Her lips and tongue worked their magic on your skin, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. You were caught between them, their combined presence overwhelming and exhilarating.

"Don't worry, my sweet," Wanda whispered against your neck, her breath warm and soothing. "The blood isn't ours."

Natasha broke the kiss, her eyes dark and filled with desire. "We had some... business to attend to," she explained, her voice low and seductive. "And now we want to attend to you."

Your mind swirled with a thousand thoughts, but all you could focus on was the sensation of their hands and lips on your body. Wanda's fingers traced patterns on your skin, while Natasha's grip tightened, a perfect balance of tenderness and dominance.

"You've been such a good girl," Wanda murmured, her voice like honey. "Always so eager to please us."

Natasha's lips curled into a predatory smile. "And now it's time for us to show you just how much we appreciate your devotion."

They guided you towards the large, luxurious bed, each movement coordinated and purposeful. As you lay down, Wanda climbed beside you, her hands never leaving your body. Natasha followed, her eyes never leaving yours as she leaned in for another kiss, this one slower, more deliberate.

Wanda's hands roamed over your torso, her touch gentle yet electrifying. "Relax, my darling," she cooed, her lips brushing against your ear. "Let us take care of you."

Natasha's hand slid under your shirt, her fingers tracing the outline of your bra. "You belong to us now," she whispered, her voice sending a thrill of excitement through you. "Body and soul."

Caught in their embrace, you felt a surge of emotions—fear, desire, love, and a deep-seated need to please them. You nodded, your voice barely a whisper. "Yes, Your Majesties."

Their eyes gleamed with satisfaction at your submission. Together, they undressed you with a mix of urgency and reverence, their hands and mouths exploring every inch of your skin. The room was filled with the sound of your gasps and their murmured words of affection and desire.

Wanda's lips captured yours in a sweet, lingering kiss, her hand cradling your face as if you were the most precious thing in the world. "You're ours," she whispered against your lips.

Natasha's hands moved lower, eliciting a moan from you as she found your most sensitive spots. "Forever," she echoed, her voice a promise and a command.

In their arms, you felt a profound sense of belonging, a connection that went beyond mere physical attraction. They were your queens, and you were their treasured plaything, caught in a web of power, passion, and unspoken loyalty.

As the night wore on, you surrendered yourself completely to their touch, their love, and their power, knowing that you were exactly where you were meant to be—at the mercy of the queens who ruled your heart and soul.

@dorabledewdroop

[ncroissant]

this is based on @lordragamuffin's amazing fanart of bloody doppelgänger francis and real francis!!! minors please dni!!

imagine doppelgänger francis absolutely terrorizing the real francis.

he’d be so jealous, watching the way you handled your boyfriend. he’d quite literally be watching you two fuck every night, outside your balcony.

yeah, world domination was cool, but human sex looked too fun for him to pass up the opportunity.

sometimes you’d leave francis home alone when you worked overnights at the security office, while your boyfriend slept alone in his all too tight shirts.

for the past week, only when you were away, francis felt something, or someone, groping at his chest. but he was always almost half-asleep when he felt slender fingers swirling around his nipples.

he’d twitch and squirm in his sleep, huffing out moans whenever he felt something pinching and tugging at his nubs.

he thought he was going crazy.

and every morning, when he woke up from his nightly grope session, he’d always have an embarrassingly large mess in his pants. his dick was still hard, cum splattered in his boxers.

the next week, francis started having dreams about it. no face could be imagined for whoever was fondling with his chest, but he could feel the same fingers on him every night.

he thought he was just horny, missing you on the nights you weren’t there. but even when you were there, he’d feel so guilty, praying to the dream gods that he’d have a wet dream about the mystery groper, playing with his perky nipples.

then finally, one fateful night, he woke up to finally see fingers stuffed under his shirt. he was still disoriented, squirming under the cold fingers of the mystery groper.

“w-who, haah, are you…?” francis panted, throwing his head back with his tongue lulled out. the fingers were moving too fast for him to protest, nails slightly scrapping the tips.

there was no response. the only noise that filled the room were the whimpers and moans from francis. he was so needy, drool sliding out of his mouth at the immense pleasure he felt. he couldn’t even fathom how good he felt from how just his nipples.

“mmngh! c-can you, aghnn, tell me, please?” he was so polite, even while some stranger was pulling at his stupidly perky nipples, testing if any milk work come out.

doppelgänger francis would just silently chuckle at his copy’s desperation. he’d flick one bud, while rubbing the other with his thumb. whatever made his copy twitch, he’d do it over and over again to see him squirm.

humans are so stupid, he thought.

he looked down to see the mess that was brewing between francis’ legs, before finally giving francis a clue. “why not…you let me replace you, hm?”

francis tried to hide the moans that were spilling out of his lips at the revelation, but his mind was so hazy for him to even refute. “n-nggGH!” he mewled when doppel squeezed both nipples at the tips.

“i’ll play with you like this every night, then i pretend to be you in the day, hm?” doppel proposed, shivers rolling down francis’ spine. the heat of doppel’s breath brushed against his ears making them tingle.

“t-that’s, ungh, not…” francis was grinding against the fabric of his underwear, completely out of it. he was so close. just a few more flicks would send this poor boy over the edge.

“c’mon, they won’t even notice. i can play with these pretty things like this,” he flicked at francis’ buds, pressing kisses against his flushed neck. “such pretty tits, hm?” he chuckled, cupping his chest.

that comment sent francis over the moon. his heart was nearly thumping out of his chest and cum splattered on the inside of his pants.

“guess i trained you well. they’re bigger than before,” doppel didn’t waiver when francis came, continuing to torment his pink nubs. they were throbbing, sensitive to the touch.

francis’ drool dropped to his chin, his eyes rolled back all the way. “n-no, i jus’...hnghh, c-came. ‘s too soon, ngh…” he moaned, cheek smushed against the pillow.

“maybe give me the answer i wanna hear, ‘n i’ll let you have a little break, yeah?” doppel growled, sucking hickies lower down his neck.

francis’ breath hitched, shaking his head. “d-don’t, eek! d-don’t leave marks, they’ll see, mngh, them!” he pleaded.

doppel smirked, rolling his fingertips over francis’ nipples soothingly. it was slow, too slow. “ooohhngh…y-you can, hn, take over f’me…” francis cutely agreed, biting his lower lip.

“yeah? ‘n i’ll play with you every night, right?” doppel grinned widely, sucking on francis’ earlobe.

francis’ eyes were squeezed shut, flushed from the neck down. “m-mhm! p-please…” francis begged, trying to puff his chest out for more friction.

“alright. you said it yourself, so don’t go crying to me when you can’t take it anymore,” doppel chuckled darkly, tugging francis’ nipples with a squeeze.

“haaaAANGH!”

[n0tamused]

A/N: This is based off of this post I saw on tiktok theorizing that BootHill must've died a brutal death for only his head to remain.

Content: angst, scramble drabble, she/her, female reader, BootHill needs comfort and he gets it, BootHill written prior to his release

“-Hey, hey, BootHill, breathe, my love-” Warm and cautious hands cup the cheeks of her loved one who sat shaking on the very corner of her bed. Hair messy and some fallen in small clumps from the struggle with his artificial body. “Shh, you’re with me.. there’s no one around, just me” she tries to soothe him again, worry rising like a bubble in her throat at her partner’s distress.

BootHill’s eyes flickered between red and gray, jumping around the room but once they were on her, they looked at something past her, through her. Even with half of his human body gone he wasn’t spared of the terrible memories and dreams. Every once in a while they’d come back to haunt him and drag him through all the suffering once again. Like once wasn’t enough. And in his scared stupor he didn’t rise from the bed before tugging his own hair and trashing the bed, even managing to hit her in the pure state of his delirium in attempts to pull off the ropes he felt in his nightmare.

Ragged breaths fan across her hands and she has to call out to him a few more times until she finally gets a response that he’s finally lucid. “Huh-? Huh..what?” He stumbles, hoping to summon strength to feel again, with his hands, Metal wraps itself around her wrist, squeezing then lessening its grip before squeezing again. “It’s okay.. it was just a dream.. See? Just breathe, come on.. do it with me”

Worry is etched deep between her brows and her frown in the dim light of the bedroom, but she manages to calm him down. But with each twitch of his body she regrets the lack of things she could do. She would’ve intertwined their fingers together, would’ve hugged him until he realized he was being held - but what use of it was it when he physically couldn’t feel touch? It was like explaining colors to a blind man. She might as well cry with BootHill.

But she has to stay strong, and patient above all else. She needs to be his rock at this moment. “Come.. let’s rest some more. We can just lay down for now” she leads him to lay down after her, moving his head despite his confused and pained grunt, setting his ear to her chest. Her hands go to his hair and she holds him there, just like that. And she feels his weight fall onto her, no longer resisting.  The thump of her heart draws him in until it becomes the center of his world. He sees darkness before his eyes, but hears the light of the heart kept away from him, safe behind her ribs.

It was an anxious thump, fastened with fear and lack of air, before easing into a smoother rhythm. BootHill didn’t realize he was shedding tears until her gentle fingers brushed over the edge of his eyes, prompting them to close. “ ‘m sorry..” he muttered, swallowing a breath before he nuzzles his head against her chest, shuffling so his artificial body followed the long lost habit of his past self in the form of hugging. Mechanical arms practically trap her under him, and she only hugs his head closer. This is the least she could do..

Hearing him cry into her chest broke her heart, feeling how her shirt became damp,  and hearing him murmuring apologies for every tear that fell tested her strength too. He felt broken and lost, in hatred of the fate he was forced into and the suffering he had to endure, and he couldn’t give up, for that would mean betraying you. He just had to keep moving. 

BootHill can’t betray the only person left that he loves, and that loves him in return. 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[schwarzkatje]

filthy secret

summary ➴

loser!ellie is not just your average outcast — too awkward to avert her gaze when she spots you in the school's corridors and just as much of a coward to muster some courage to ask you out. when fate serves her the chance to get closer to you she panicks. bad.

author's notes ➴

i'm landing on the spectacular world of tumblr fanfics – a deranged world, at that, just like i want it. anyhow, the only thing i will apologise for is any grammar errors (since english is not my native language). the obscenities i'm responsible for are all intentional.

content warnings ➴

18+ MDNI • loser!ellie, nsfw, swearing, masturbation (!ellie), afab reader, sex toys (strap-on & masturbator), strap referred to as "her cock", dirty talk, humping, fantasising (everything happens in ellie's mind and ellie's mind only), implied top!ellie and bottom!reader, no capital letters as a stylistic choice • not proofread

fuck. fuck. fuck.

the agitated mix of her gritted teeth and the moist puffs of breath leaving her mouth confused ellie even more on whether the string of cuss words had been simply thought or had taken shape into a concrete and uttered form.

the people crossing her same path and turning their heads in confusion as well as faint fright suggested the latter. too bad ellie couldn't give two shits if that only served as confirmation of the title of "town's weirdo" she had been given.

ellie had other things on her mind. more precisely, you.

the closer she was home, the more vividly and intensely she started recalling what had happened that same morning. if thoughts are naturally impossible to organise due to their simultaneity nature, it was a given ellie's poor brain was reduced to a mushy mess.

shards of the images, the scent, the sounds and the feelings she had experienced assembled like torturers anxious to play their part in tormenting her.

your eyes have drifted towards ellie, during lunch you have passed by her just enough to leave your fragrance lingering, you have decided to wear one of her personal favourite skirts – the pastel blue one with all the frills which left ellie wondering if you actually matched your panties – your laugh had been audible like the most venomous of enchantments. but apparently all of this had not been enough since she clearly was undergoing a twisted endurance test which she could swear has been submitted by god himself, because your biology teacher paired the two of you and tasked you to work on a project together.

how can i possibly survive this?

frustration single handedly swept away any semblance of rationality and drowned her into an amplified version of the real world. one where you were its centre and she barely remembered to breathe.

"so... is it ok with you if we study at your place, ellie?"

she must have died and reincarnated because after you had said her name she felt a rush of pure ecstasy spreading through her body, making her core warmer and uncomfortable.

she somehow managed to at least nod and agree with a meek "y-yeah" to your plan of what day and what hour to meet.

this same afternoon.

and there she was. finally aware of her surroundings again after having detoured so severely bad, in her room, door shut and her tattooed right hand around the glistening strap – because of both her own spit and the dollar store hand cream used in lieu of a proper lubricant – that was dying to penetrate the little hole of the masturbator placed on her desk.

how she managed to take her strap out of the drawer, wear it around her bony hips and fasten the buckles, is something that could explained with the fact that this definitely wasn't the first, nor the third or even the tenth time she resorted to this. ellie had grown accustomed to the harness holding the veiny cock she had bought alongside the silicone pussy,

"fuck, doll... you're soaking and so fucking... fucking warm f'me"

the base of her strap was getting wetter and stickier, resulting in ellie picturing with meticulous precision how your own pussy would be.

now it was your turn to be teased beyond the point of no return. now it was ellie who took matters into her own hands and called the shots. and what better retaliation if not punishing you by teasing your begging and eager hole with the tip of her cock?

that's how ellie found herself thrusting her hips following the pace of helpless hiccups, back and forth for the last twenty minutes.

"you love this cock, don't you? s'the reason why you dress like that for me, mmh? you beg me to take you and fuck you all day because you can't go a day without feeling your pussy stretched around me... then take it, feel what you do to me"

ellie grabbed what she dreamed was you with full force and just as strongly drove the toy against her wet cock. she had heard of the alleged phantom dick experiences but never before had she felt like she could outline the shape of your gushing pussy, almost as if the strap had become a part of her through and through.

breathy and worked pantings only consolidated the more ellie bumped her toys against her crotch. she was losing herself again, too busy chasing a pleasure that was filthy, animalistic, crude and absolutely intoxicating.

ellie had to press her lips shut against each other the very moment her bud of nerves welcomed a particularly well dealt thrust and transformed the stimulus into the first tingling shock that made ellie flex, if a little, her knees forward.

her orgasm was approaching fast and with that the figments of her imagination cooperated to offer her the display of you, completely drunk on the punishment or reward ellie was gifting you. the same eyes and mouth with which you had kindly arranged your study session were now unfocused and wet with tears and open around nothing, imploring ellie to never stop.

with the hem of her shirt stuffed inside her mouth and the change in position of the masturbator – now flipped over, creating the illusion for ellie that she was now fucking you from behind – ellie's throbbing clit finally liberated itself and unleashed violent waves of pleasure which turned into sweet whimpers.

ellie was a destroyed woman. collapsing onto the bed behind her she closed her green eyes, as pleasurable itching splotches emerged now and then in various regions of her body.

what wouldn't she give to have you like she imagined. but she knew she would never be able to think coherently for more than two seconds with you around, let alone make you scream for her cock.

ellie was resigned to this scenario and although it hurt, all she wanted to do at the moment was calm her breathing and let herself be lulled by the rhythm of the world outside her room.

except, her doorbell rings.

[vscabarca]

can u do where the reader is a nursing student and has to do a test and makes gavi their “patient” since he’s injured. I can see it being so funny and gavi throwing a small tantrum. Etc Ty 🤗

nursing student - pablo gavi

summary: you’re a nursing student and gavi is your "patient" to practice on.

genre: fluff

a/n: i absolutely have no idea about anything medically related, so everything here is made up🤣 and thank you for the request! i‘ve actually got two requests like that in my inbox so i combined them:)

———

„Do I really have to do this?“ Gavi whined, already being splattered across your bed, accepting his fate as your test subject.

You were an ambitious nursing student, currently studying for your final exams of this semester. You were specialized in sports medicine because of the internship you were doing at FC Barcelona. That‘s also how you met your boyfriend Gavi. You were the one taping up his ear as he injured himself against Osasuna.

„I just need someone to practice on, but I can also practice on Fermín if you want.“ You teased, knowing Gavi would become jealous quite quickly. As you predicted, he swiftly turned his head, giving you an annoyed glare.

„That was not funny.“ Gavi said, placing his hands behind his head, watching you as you prepared everything for your examination.

„Baby I was joking. I wish you were the test person during the exam.“ You chuckled and walked over to him, giving him a kiss for reassurance. He shyly smiled when you broke apart, feeling better after you gave him a small ego boost.

You put on your gloves and walked over to the side Gavi was laying at.

„Okay just tell me if I hurt your knee during the examination.“ You said. Gavi was still recovering from his ACL injury, so you were more careful than usual.

He nodded, then sat up to remove his shirt for your general body check-up.

Your eyes swiftly glanced over his toned body and you felt your temperature rise. After all it was difficult to concentrate when your handsome boyfriend laid there only with shorts on. To that, you knew he was going to tease you for becoming shy.

„Are you nervous?“ Gavi’s voice lingered in suspicion, his eyebrows were crooked. You rolled your eyes but he was right, you were a bit nervous.

You first checked his heart and lungs with the stethoscope and as soon you pressed it onto his chest, Gavi whined again.

„Amor it’s cold!“ He twisted around the bed, making you let out a chuckle.

„C‘mon it’s not that bad. You’ve done this a thousand times during medicals, do you complain there too?“ You scolded with a laugh and continued to listen to his heartbeat.

He gave you a side eye, pouting slightly at your words. You kissed his pout away a second time and looked for a flashlight to check his eyes. (a/n: i hope you know what I mean lol)

„Do you kiss all your patients?“

„Only the hot ones.“ You returned with a grin, to which Gavi let out a smile.

„Alright let’s check your flexibility.“ You said, trying to distract yourself from the teasing. After all you had to practice, there was no time to swoon over your man.

After checking his knees, being extra careful with his right one, you moved over to looking at the anatomy of the human body. This was also a big part of your exam, so it was the perfect time to look at an athlete‘s body.

„Okay so this here is the biceps brachii muscle.“ Your hand softly traced over his arm until you reached his shoulder. „…and this here is the trapezius muscle…“ you were in your own world, your gaze shifting from the textbook over to Gavi‘s body several times to see if you were right. Gavi smiled softly. He first wanted to tease you again about something, but as he saw you so concentrated, so focused on studying the right thing, he let it be and just admired you.

Gavi was proud to see you studying medicine. You were so smart, always giving him a massage or taping him up if something was nagging him after practice.

„Although I don’t like being your test subject and would rather cuddle with you, I can’t stop being so proud of you.“ You looked up, your cheeks red once again after hearing his words. A shy smile spread across your face as his compliments still made you nervous.

You stood on your tiptoes, textbook and anatomy long forgotten and grabbed his neck to bring him closer. His lips soon found yours and you both got lost in the sweet feeling of each other. Gavi brought you in a hug, quietly whispering into your ear.

„Can we cuddle now?“

[itneverendshere]

erase all of my memories without you - rafe cameron.

part 2 of can't remember anything before you.

pairing: rafe cameron x thornton!reader; brother's best friend! trope or best friend's sister! trope lmao; fem!reader.

word count: a lot??

WARNINGS: boyfriend!rafe <3; rafe being the biggest lover boy; tooth-rotting fluff if im being honest; topper's a dick but just for a sec; rafe is down bad; so cute.

“rafe, i told you, no hickeys!”

“can you blame me?” he has that mischievous gleam in his eyes, like he's testing just how far he can push your boundaries. “you’re just so pretty, baby.”

you roll your eyes, trying to maintain a serious tone despite the playful grin pulling at your lips. “shut up.” 

being with rafe cameron was not on your yearly plans, but every single day, you thank your lucky stars for finally doing something right. he's a total game-changer, your personal slice of heaven. 

who would have thought the universe had that kind of surprise up its sleeve? 

he leans in closer, breath warm against your ear, arms wrapped securely around your waist, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. "i should visit more often if that’s how you’re going to greet me each time.”

you can't help but lean back into his embrace, savoring every moment of closeness.

"you should." you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, your fingers gently tracing circles on his hand. “wouldn't mind that at all."

you’d been together ever since that fateful night in your garden, months ago. 

sneaking around had its thrills, especially with your brother always lurking nearby, but nothing compared to the challenge of a long-distance relationship. late-night calls, stolen moments of intimacy over video chats, and endless messages are your lifelines. 

so when rafe finally stepped through the door of your new york apartment last night, after weeks apart, it was no surprise that you couldn't help but pounce on him, eager to make up for lost time. his slutty grey sweatpants, his choice of comfortable for a flight, were imprinted into your brain. 

“so, so pretty." he murmurs, lips brushing against your earlobe, “y'know i can't resist leaving my mark on you."

you playfully swat at him, a grin spreading across your face despite your half-hearted protest, “topper would kill you."

rafe snorts, the sound traveling through your body as he presses a kiss to your temple, “he can try.”

you can't help but feel a twinge of guilt at the thought of keeping your relationship with rafe under wraps. it’s not like you don’t want to make it official, god, you do. but you’ve spent the last four months having him all to yourself, you don’t want other people to butt in and ruin everything with their unsolicited opinions. 

being with him feels right. he's your rock, your constant in a world that's always changing. 

“can we go back to bed now?” rafe’s warm breath tickles your ear as he speaks, his voice laced with a hint of grogginess, sleep still clouding his brain, “it’s fucking freezing.”

you chuckle quietly at his sleepy request, the sound mixing with the gentle hum of the heater as it struggles to combat the winter chill.

“course." you murmur, unwrapping yourself from his arms to press a tender kiss to his cheek, "let's get you warmed up."

his fingers don’t let you move an inch away, circling your wrist to pull you closer against his chest again, big cheeky smile on his face as he looks down at you. “you gonna warm me up, peach?”

"i might." you reply with a sly smirk, trailing a finger down his shirtless chest. "but you might have to work for it a little."

rafe's eyes widen with mock surprise. "is that so?" he asks, his voice low and husky as he pulls you closer. “well, lucky for you, i’m up for a challenge."

you’d never felt butterflies in your tummy until you started dating this man. he has you wrapped around his fingers, and you don’t want out. it physically hurts you to even think about a time when you didn’t have rafe like this.

you can't imagine being anywhere else but here, wrapped in his embrace.

with a playful giggle, you give him a knowing look. "’m counting on it," you murmur, as you pull him closer. you stand on your barefoot tiptoes, arms lacing around his neck. “really missed you.”

rafe's arms tighten around you as he pulls you impossibly close, his warmth enveloping you like a cozy blanket. his gaze softens, filled with a tenderness that makes your heart flutter even faster.

 “missed you too, more than you know." he murmurs, his breath mingling with yours as he leans in to press a docile kiss to your lips.

“always thinking about my girl.” 

as his lips meet yours, a wave of warmth washes over you, melting away any lingering traces of cold or distance. fuck, you’re in love with him and if he keeps kissing you like this, you might confess earlier. you’re way in over your head.

you sigh contentedly against his lips, savoring the feeling of being so close to him after being apart for so long. his touch, his scent, his presence—all of it feels like home to you. breaking the kiss reluctantly, you rest your forehead against his.

“stop staring at me like that peach.” he scolds, but there’s no bite to his tone as his fingertips brush your cheek lightly. “gonna end up buying this fucking building if you keep that up.”

you smile again, that’s all you seem to do around him anyway, as his beautiful eyes sweep up from your lips to meet your own. “rafe cameron living in new york? i’d pay to see that.”

rafe chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest and sending pleasant vibrations through your body. his fingers trace lazy patterns along your cheek, his touch sweet and affectionate.

“you'd pay to see it, huh?" he teases, a playful glint in his face as he leans in closer to you, his breath warm against your skin. “’m that good of an investment?”

you can't help but laugh at his playful banter, shaking your head. you love that you get to see this side of him, how soft he is with you, only you.

“you’re alright cameron.”

"jus’ alright?" he feigns offense, his hand moving to rest over his heart in an exaggerated manner. "take it back.”

“nop.”

rafe lets out a dramatic sigh, pretending to be wounded. "no?” 

you can't help but giggle at his theatrics, finding it endearing how he always manages to lighten the mood.

"you big baby." you tease, poking him playfully in the side.

“oh, i’ll show you big.”

before you can even wrap your brain around his innuendo, you’re being thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. he does it so effortlessly you almost swoon. 

you squeal in surprise, the sudden movement catching you off guard. "rafe, what the fuck?" you laugh, squirming slightly as he carries you effortlessly across the room. “what are you doing—hey!”

his palm smacks against one of your cheeks, covered by nothing except a pair of his ralph lauren boxers. “taking you to bed, where you belong.”

you play along, pretending to protest even as you secretly enjoy the attention. 

"and what if i don't want to go to bed?" you retort, trying to sound defiant.

rafe stops in his tracks, his grip tightening around your legs. "oh, trust me, peach," he says, his tone turning serious for a moment, "you definitely want to go to bed."

“hmm, not sure.”

“it’s okay brat, you’ll be sure soon enough." he teases, deep voice making you want to do the most immoral things on every single surface of your apartment.

a repeat of last night. 

you play along, feigning uncertainty as he deposits you gently onto the queen-sized bed, his stare burning with desire as he hovers over you, thick arms caging you in. one of your hands wraps around his bicep, nails grazing the skin as you glance up at him, head tilted to the side.

rafe’s eyes instantly move to your neck as your hair slips behind, tongue poking out to wet his lips, "i don't know, baby, might have to convince me."

he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "consider it my pleasure." he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours in a tantalizingly gentle kiss.

you feel a shiver run down your back as rafe's lips meet yours, his kiss sending a surge of electricity through your body. you’ll never get used to this. his touch is both tender and assertive, his lips moving against yours with a practiced finesse that leaves you breathless. 

it's like every nerve in your being wakes up, responding eagerly to his touch.

as he deepens the kiss, his hands roam over your body, tracing the curves of your waist and hips with a possessive urgency, with a sense of familiarity as if committing every curve to memory. his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss even further, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips before delving into your mouth in a hungry, desperate kiss. you melt against him, surrendering. 

you feel a surge of heat pooling in the pit of your stomach, your breath catching in your throat as he explores you with a hunger that leaves you trembling.

“better than alright?” he mumbles against your lips and you find yourself unable to resist the pull of his touch, arching against him in silent invitation. his lips trail a path of fire along your jawline and down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in their wake, “lost your voice, huh?”

he’s so addicted to sucking harshly on your skin, nibbling it playfully to drag out and elicit the sweetest sounds from your mouth. a melodic moan escapes your parted lips.

“you’re such an asshole.”

“there she is.” rafe's husky chuckle fills the air, sending pleasant vibrations through your body as he continues to pepper kisses along your neck, each one igniting a fiery trail of craving in its wake. “’m your asshole though.”

“not if you keep teasing.” 

his lips pause their trail, hovering just above your skin as he looks up at you, one of his brows raised, "teasing?”

before you can protest his lips are on yours again, hungry and demanding. his hands roam over your body with a newfound urgency, tracing every corner and eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips. he has the audacity to hush you when he pins you harder with his hips, clothed cock rubbing perfectly against you. 

your nails can’t help but dig into his shoulders, pulling at the skin. the way he's moving against you makes you feel like getting on your knees and letting him do whatever he wants to you, for however long he wishes to.

but then, your stupid intercom is buzzing.

you both freeze, caught in the throes of passion interrupted. rafe drops his head on your shoulder, groaning. 

"seriously?" he mutters, his voice tinged with frustration as he rolls off you, giving you space to sit up.

“it’s probably breakfast.” you’re smoothing out your rumpled clothes— if you can call an oversized tee and boxers an outfit.

rafe lets out an exaggerated sigh, flopping back onto the bed, “’m so hard it hurts.” he whines, throwing an arm over his face.

“you’ll be fine.”

“can’t even see you right now, might cum in my sweats.” he mutters, his voice muffled by the fabric of your pillows.

you stifle a laugh, shaking your head at his melodramatic response.

"you're ridiculous." you tease, moving to sit beside him on the bed.

rafe peeks out from under his arm, giving you a glare, his bottom lip jutting out in a comically exaggerated pout. “and you're making me harder, stop touching me and go get the door.”

you lean in to press a quick kiss to his cheek, feet planted on the ground as you attempt to get up, but he’s quick to pull you down again. his beefy arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back on top of him.

“rafe.”

“gimme a kiss before you go.”

“though you didn’t want me to touch you.” you tease, leaning down to press a short kiss to his lips. it's meant to be quick, just a peck, but his hand snakes up to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. settling on your lower lip, he draws it into his mouth, sucking lightly, pushing you even closer. he runs his hands along your sides, one stopping just below your covered breasts—

“the door,” you manage to stutter out between kisses, “behave.”

when he finally pulls away, both your lips are slightly swollen, red and you’re both breathless.

 "there," you say as you push yourself off the bed once more. but this time, rafe lets you go without protest, admiring you with a lazy smile as you make your way to the door. 

when you moved back to new york three months ago, you chose to do it independently. while your parents owned at least three penthouses in the city, you needed something smaller. what was the point in living alone in such big apartments? you’d be miserable and alone most of the time.

you chose a smaller studio, fancy enough to be your type, but cozy enough to make you feel at home, even though you were miles away. 

as you reach the door, you glance back to see rafe still lounging in your bed, arms crossed lazily behind his head. you shake your own, turn back, and open the door.

your heart immediately falls through your ass.

“topper?!”

he ignores you, pushing you aside to enter as he focuses on removing the thick scarf around his neck, struggling to get it off as he rants.

“about damn time, you know how long i was outside?! swear to god i hate this city, it’s freezing for no reason and—is that rafe fucking cameron on your bed?!”

you freeze in place, feeling a knot form in your stomach as you watch topper's reaction unfold. rafe, ever the cool customer, sits up in bed, a smirk playing at his lips as he meets your brother’s incredulous gaze head-on. you can feel a headache forming in the back of your head. 

"hey, top." rafe geets, his tone casual as if he's just encountered an old friend. which he has because that’s his best friend. "long time no see?"

topper's eyes narrow as he takes in the sight of rafe lounging on your bed, “okay, okay. what the fuck is going on?”

he's going to freak out on you.

you clear your throat, trying to find the right words to explain the situation, “he’s visiting.”

top nods, not leaving his best friend out of his sight, “clearly! why are you in my sister’s bed, cameron?”

“was i supposed to sleep on the floor?” rafe replies, tone nonchalantly as he shrugs casually.

you’re going to kill him.

topper's jaw clenches as he shoots rafe a glare, clearly unimpressed by his answer. "you know damn well what i mean." he says, his voice menacing, so different from what you're used to.

rafe's smirk only widens, “relax, man," he says, his tone dripping with casual indifference. "we were just hanging out."

and about to have sex, but your brother doesn’t need all the details. 

topper's expression darkens further at your boyfriend’s flippant attitude, and you can practically feel the terrible outcome. 

"in her bed?" he asks, his voice dangerously low.

you step forward, hoping to defuse the situation before it escalates any further.

 "topper, it's not what you think," you begin, but your brother holds up a hand to silence you.

“and why are you wearing his clothes?”

you glance down at your choice of outfit, flustered, you try to come up with a plausible explanation, “uh—well—it's a funny story, i-i'm out of clothes actually, who knew doing your laundry took so much work?”

his attention flickers between you and rafe, suspicion evident in his expression. you can practically see the gears turning in his head.

"out of clothes?" he repeats, his tone incredulous. "and you decided to borrow his?"

you shift uncomfortably under his scrutinization, trying to come up with a better explanation, but you can’t. “yeah?”

he squeezes his eyes shut as if he’s in pain, “please tell me my sister isn’t fucking my best friend.”

you swallow hard, feeling the weight of his scrutiny bearing down on you, but rafe speaks before you can conjure the words. 

“your sister isn’t fucking your best friend, happy?” 

you shoot rafe a warning look, silently pleading for him to play along and not make the situation worse.

you step forward, again. “topper, please, it's not what you think,” you say, your voice tinged with desperation. “rafe just came to visit, that's all.”

topper's stare softens as he contemplates, but his expression remains guarded. “and you didn't think to tell me?”

you bite your lip, feeling guilty for keeping your relationship with rafe a secret from your brother. “i wanted to, i just... didn't know how.”

rafe interjects, his tone more serious now. “top, i know this probably looks bad—”

“it looks really bad,” topper interrupts, his frustration evident.

“but nothing's happened,” rafe continues, ignoring the interruption. “we're just friends.”

but your brother is still inspecting you. and it’s only when his eyes descend to your neck, you realize what he’s looking at.

“is that why she got at least three hickeys on her neck?”

you feel a flush rise to your cheeks as topper's accusation hangs heavy in the air. you stare nervously at rafe, hoping he'll come up with a believable explanation, but he just shrugs nonchalantly, as if the hickeys are no big deal. 

“they’re not hickeys, i burned myself with my curling iron.”

“yeah and i’m fucking adriana lima on my spare time.”

“okay?” you quickly turn your head back to the wall because you think you're about to puke up everything you just ingested.

"oh fuck, not you." top groans in frustration, seeing where rafe googly looks are directed, “not you two! you can't be serious?! that's my sister, dude; come on!" 

rafe finally stands up from your bed, his tone is firm, his expression serious as he steps closer to your brother, his hands held out in a placating gesture. “it’s not like that.”

topper glances back and forth between you two, focusing on the blush of your cheeks and the adoration in rafe’s face now that you are looking back at him. a sick, knowing feeling had been building inside of him since he walked through the door. 

“i can’t fucking believe this.” 

“it’s not like that,” rafe repeats, walking to your side, hating the way your eyes are starting to water. he keeps his hand on your arm, thumb brushing circles over your cold skin, “we’re together. and watch your fucking tone when you speak to her.”

“don’t tell me how to speak to my sister!"

rafe's jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek. despite that, his hand remains steady on your arm, offering you a silent anchor of support. you feel a knot tighten in your stomach as you testify the tension between the two most important men in your life escalates.

"guys, please," you interject, your voice trembling, "this isn't helping anything."

“you’re in love with her, cameron?”

topper’s question makes you want to dig a hole in the middle of your studio and run.

what the hell?!

he can’t just barge in and make everything a mess. this is what you were afraid of, people meddling with your relationship. you and rafe haven’t discussed it yet. yeah it’s clear you’re in love with him, but you want to be the one to tell him and vice versa. you don’t want him to feel pressured to do it.

rafe's hand tightens on your arm, anchoring himself with the feeling of you beneath his fingertips. his eyes search yours for guidance. you can see the conflict in his expression.

he doesn’t shy away from the question, and his gaze never leaves yours. he traces every line of your face, “yeah, i am.”

the words hang in the air, a declaration that changes everything and nothing all at once. then time stops. your stomach turns unhelpfully, and you feel your skin turn clammy. 

from the corner of your eye, you see the shock register on your brother’s face before he can hide it. strangely, he seems to understand now, perhaps more than you realized he would. for a moment, there's silence in the room, the weight of rafe's confession settling over all of you. but then topper lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging with the weight of understanding.

"okay," he says, his voice softer now, lacking the edge of anger from before. "okay."

you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, feeling a sense of relief flood through you. despite the uncertainty of what comes next. 

rafe's hand finds yours, intertwining his fingers with yours in a silent gesture of solidarity. you squeeze his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch grounding you. 

"thank you," you say to topper, your voice barely above a whisper but brimmed with gratitude.

he nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "just... take care of each other, okay?"

“can you leave now?” rafe all but interrupts the sentimental exchange, “kinda need to properly confess.”

topper raises an eyebrow at his abrupt request, clearly caught off guard by the bluntness. but after a second of hesitation, he nods, pushing himself off the wall where he's been leaning.

"yeah, sure," he says, giving you a meaningful look before turning to leave. "just... be careful, both of you. i’ll stop by later for dinner."

you offer him a small smile in return, feeling a shit ton of emotions swirling inside you as you watch him go. once he's out of sight, you let out a sigh, the tension in the room finally dissipating.

rafe releases your hand, moving to close the door behind topper before returning to your side. his expression is softer now, focused solely on you. 

"you okay?" he asks, his voice soft as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face.

you nod, offering him a shaky smile. "yeah, think so. that was... unexpected."

rafe pulls you into his arms, holding you close as if he never wants to let you go. 

"m’ sorry peach," he murmurs against your hair, his voice filled with regret. "didn't mean to drop that bomb on ya like that."

you sink into his embrace, finding comfort in the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart. "t's okay," you whisper, your voice barely audible as you nuzzle into his chest. "just wish it had been different."

he presses a kiss to the top of your head, arms tightening around you protectively. "i know," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves.

then, as if a floodgate has opened within you, the words spill from your lips, raw and unfiltered. "i’m in love with you too, rafe."

his arms around you tighten, as if to reassure himself that your words are real. 

"i love you," he murmurs against your hair, "more than anything."

you feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, “you’re gonna make me cry.”

he pulls back slowly, cupping your face in his hands and wiping away the tears that have started to fall. "hey now, no tears, baby. only happy ones, yeah?"

you nod, sniffling but managing a watery smile. "yeah, happy tears. because i love you, rafe cameron."

he smiles back, a gentleness in him you've never seen before. 

"and i love you, more than anything in this world."

you can't help but lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his palms against your cheeks. his stare is full of tenderness, his thumb gently brushing away the last traces of tears.

"you're everything, y’know that?" he murmurs, his voice overflowing with sincerity.

you nod, feeling a lump forming in your throat at the depth of his words. "yeah, i do. and so are you.”

he leans in closer, lips capturing yours in a sweet kiss. he moves against you with a gentle fervor, his hands cradling your face as if you're the most precious thing in the world to him. and in that moment, you know without a doubt that you are and as you pull away, breathless yet content, you rest your forehead against his, savoring the closeness and the warmth that surrounds you.

"i love you," you whisper.

"i love you too, always," rafe replies, his voice a gentle caress against your skin.

[bg-brainrot]

Failed Every Insight Check and Fell all the Harder (Astarion x GN!Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Companion piece to: Failed a Dex Save and Fell for You

Summary: After a few months of traveling together, Astarion has begun to experience some new feelings around you. After one fateful day in Moonrise Towers, he finally figures out what those feelings are.

Tags: Astarion POV, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Awkward Fluff, tw: mentions of astarion's past and all that comes with it, tw: mentions of araj scene, Feelings Realization, Jealousy

A/N: here comes the awkward, fluffy Astarion figuring out his feelings Valentine’s special. He’s a hot mess, of course. (happy Early Valentine’s because I will be busy on Valentine’s) And thanks to everyone who voted for this one!

Word count: ~4.8k

Ever since your group entered the Shadowlands, something has been bothering Astarion. He hadn't noticed at first– or rather, had tried his best to ignore it. But, as time goes on, he’s finding it more and more difficult to brush aside.

It had started out small. An odd pain in the pit of his stomach.

What was that? he'd thought, holding a hand to his abdomen in concern. Perhaps he was just hungry, but it certainly didn’t feel like the ever-present hunger in his belly. No, that was a dull, continuous ache. This? This felt like something was weighing him down. Maybe I’m ill. I shouldn’t mention it to anyone, lest Lae’zel slit my throat in my sleep.

Besides, the pain didn’t happen often. He noticed it a distinct few times.

Once, when you first entered the Shadowlands. He’d just watched you bend down, hands plucking at something off the side of the cursed lands’ road. He thought momentarily that he ought to stop you, that none of you knew what could be lurking in its magical darkness. But that tinge of worry was promptly replaced by that same gods awful pit in his stomach. 

Because there you were, presenting your party’s cleric with your spoils. You were gifting Shadowheart a night orchid– had remembered that she mentioned loving them. You bore the woman’s wretched joke with a smile. Disgusting, Astarion thought. No wonder my stomach feels uncomfortable, what a pathetic little exchange.

Like everything that had bothered him in the last couple of months since finding himself free of Cazador, he decided to forget the feeling. Life is his to take full advantage now, why let something like that affect him?

Or so he thought until the next time the feeling made its return.

You had just arrived at the Last Light Inn as a group, found shelter through the Harpers’ well-established safe haven. Astarion was quite happy to be rid of the shadows, content to cozy up in an inn. He figured, if he played his cards right, you may even let him partake in your blood or ask for a bit of fun.

Then your party found Dammon. Equipped with Infernal Iron and one blazing hot barbarian, Dammon made magic happen in a matter of moments. 

Astarion was glad. As much as the group was a bit much at times, he understood Karlach’s struggle with her body all too well. She deserved this small victory in reclaiming her body. 

His feelings of genuine sympathy were short-lived though because a moment later you were wrapping your arms around the tiefling’s body. It was a test, of course, to see if Dammon’s fusing had worked. But there it was again, the feeling in his stomach. This time it felt twice as heavy, a lead ball in his guts. Maybe I should let someone know, he thought. This can’t be good.

But the sensation was soon forgotten as your group settled into the Last Light Inn. Old allies were in some miserable new states– requiring even more help, gods– and new acquaintances were made. It was all rather dull for Astarion.

The one time Astarion perked up was when you went head-to-head with the head Harper. He chuckled under his breath when you outsmarted the old crone, Jaheira. That’s right, Harper. Don’t mess with my protector.

Your first night at the inn was capped off with a bit of revelry: a game of Truth or Dare. 

Astarion could sense your reluctance to play. You’d been acting odd all day, stiff and awkward around him. He saw this as the perfect opportunity to tease you to the high celestial plane– in fact, he already knew what he wanted to ask you. “You are going to regret this so much," he'd said to you from across the table.

Then the game began, and the deep, uncomfortable feeling never left his core.

Each and every companion received your attention throughout the game, in one way or another. Even that damned smith, Dammon, was given a dare from you. And Astarion just sat there, not even earning a glance, his mood growing more and more sour.

When, at last, he was able to taunt you with his question, you were far too in your cups to give a proper response. He sat on your lap, placed there from one of Shadowheart’s dares, staring into your surprised, open eyes, wishing that he'd thought of an easier question for an inebriated version of you.

The group had shooed you both out of the game upon seeing your state, though Astarion didn't mind. He'd much rather leave the lot of them and tease you by himself.

Once you were alone, you answered his question. That he, Astarion, was your favorite and for all manner of incredulous, unbelievable reasons. He’d expected you to say him. He’d asked to hear your praise, confirm your attachment in the name of his plan to seduce you. All the same he was left uncomfortable, juggling the sudden and unabashed flattery. Being praised for his looks was one thing but for being… himself?

The feeling in his stomach grew. Suddenly his lungs felt it, his undead heart felt it. What in the sweet hells is the matter with me? he thought, as he helped lay your drunken, passed out form to bed later that night. He hadn’t felt a sensation like this before– he hated it. 

Then you reached out to him in your sleep, and he froze. Something about the touch quietened the pain under his ribs, and so he extended his fingers, gently touching your brow as you fell asleep. See? I’m fine, he assured himself. I truly am just ravenous.

__

He continued this way for several days in the Shadowcursed lands.

One moment, he was perfectly fine, hacking and slashing at a Shambling Mound with abandon. The next, he would look over at you, see you laughing at something Karlach said, and it felt like an iron ingot had made its way into his insides.

Damned tiefling woman. I’m far funnier than her, you know, he thinks, resheathing his knives with a little too much gusto. The sound of your laughter rang in his head for the rest of the evening, as if he were being driven to insanity by it.

The next day, you had fought a horde of Meazels. At first, Astarion thought the fight was delightful fun– the tiefling woman and the cleric kept getting teleported against their will and after his recent annoyance with both of them, he found it quite amusing. That is, until you found yourself garrotted, teleported as far away from him as possible.

He was on you in mere moments, ripping the creature off of you with his blades. It was almost as if he’d reacted instinctively and, as someone whose instincts typically led him away from danger, he found the sensation quite off-putting. Nevertheless, he'd freed you, asking, “Are you alright, darling?”

Astarion couldn’t remember what you’d even said because once he saw the marks the creatures left on you, the pit in his stomach dropped. Where there had been a heavy pressure before, there was now a sharp feeling. His eyes carefully trailed over your injuries, trying his best to focus on you and not the phantom pain building inside him.

You had been fine, nothing that a quick heal from Shadowheart couldn’t fix, but that feeling stayed in his stomach the rest of the day. It’s simply the Shadowlands, he'd thought. They not only play tricks on the mind, clearly they’re playing tricks on my body.

It was a few days later, as you helped the Harper’s deal with their lantern problem that the sensation shifted again.

Astarion watched, eyes glued to your form, as you dispatched the hideous drider, your twin blades piercing the creature in its most vulnerable spots. He’d seen you kill many monsters before, hundreds likely at this point. But something about the way your body moved in the Moonlantern’s glow, the way your face lit up as the creature’s body crumpled to the floor, caused the vampire to stop and watch.

This time, he’d felt the heavy sensation move up, somewhere just below his throat. He tried against all odds to gulp it away, but nothing seemed to work. We need to finish our business here and get out as soon as possible, he thought now, convinced it was the shadows warping his senses…

But as your travel continues, the feelings never go away. 

It’s a different pressure, it builds, it ebbs, it flows between his heart, his stomach, his torso– and each time he brushes it off. Stewing in these uncomfortable feelings, Astarion spends the week in a hazy mire, not unlike the shadows that surround you all.

Then your group finally infiltrates Moonrise.

__

Moonrise Towers, the seat of the Absolute and a once grand fortress. 

Now, Astarion can’t help but think it seems rather underutilized. Your group is walking along the empty parapets outside, which are woefully missing any sense of grandeur or ornamentation. “Darling,” he says, leaning into you slightly. “Don’t you think we ought to just kill everyone now and take the place for ourselves. Might be quite fun.”

You bark out a laugh, which he feels proud to have produced, and reply, “Maybe later. This is an infiltration mission only. Besides, once we defeat the Absolute, I’m sure there will be a vacancy.”

Astarion laughs back at you. Gods, he enjoys this. The way that he can say something that others would balk at and you will miraculously not only appreciate it, but also play along with it. Having fun with them is so easy, he thinks. And look, I’m still wearing all of my clothes! What a novel idea.

The thought is cut short when your group walks through an outside doorway into a room that can only be described as grotesque. Whoever works here clearly has some knowledge of arcana, if the ingredients and alchemical tools are anything to go by, but it smells utterly foul to Astarion.

It’s when you spot the drow woman hunched over a table in the corner that he realizes where the stench is coming from. Hells below, that woman reeks of something truly awful, he thinks, recoiling. He’d grown used to following behind you closely, but as you step forward to speak to the woman, he finds himself taking a step back instead.

The woman introduces herself as Araj Oblodra, a trader of blood– a rather poor trader, by the smell of it. She takes note of Astarion, who shuffles back instinctively, before you and her go about some kind of business with your blood. Astarion contemplates speaking up, shooing you away from her, but decides to stay back, as far away as he can remain without arousing suspicion. They can handle themselves.

Then, after the woman looks back toward him one too many times, he hears you snap, “And why are you so interested in my pale friend?” 

“Ah, yes. Perhaps there’s one more thing we could discuss,” she begins, her voice a dangerous drawl. “He’s a vampire, no? Or one of their spawn at least.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Astarion says, all-too-ready to fill his role. “We’re all friends under the Absolute. I won’t bite.”

“Oh, I’d prefer if you did,” she’s quick to respond. Her eagerness picks at Astarion’s nerves, and he raises an eyebrow at her. Araj doesn’t deign to give him another moment’s look though, as she turns back to you. “I assume he belongs to you?”

“Excuse me?” Your voice sounds offended– on his behalf, Astarion wonders? “He’s his own person.” Your words cause the feeling in Astarion’s stomach to flip, and, as much as he wants to come to his own defense, he finds himself quite content to hear you do it for him.

“I’m sure he really believes that. How utterly adorable,” she says with a snide chuckle. 

Adorable? he thinks, but he’s unable to interject before the woman continues to barrel forward.

The blood trader turns back to Astarion, face wrinkled with distaste as her tone changes to something a bit more confrontational, “Do you have a name, spawn?”

Her sudden shift in attitude, the proud tilt to her head, it all throws the vampire off balance as he goes to answer, “Astarion, b-but hold on!” Astarion holds up a hand to try to slow this woman’s tirade, all to no avail.

“Good. Now, Astarion, I’ve dreamt of being bitten by a vampire since I was a young girl,” Araj begins, laying out the scene for her request.

Too bad that the scene sounds quite ridiculous to Astarion. Surely he heard her incorrectly? “I’m sorry, you want to be bitten?”

The woman goes on a new insane diatribe– something about dancing with death– but Astarion can hardly be bothered. All he needs to know is that she’s offering some measly potion for being bitten and, gods, does he not want to bite this woman’s disgusting neck. Or wrist. Or really any part of her. “I will have to decline,” he says, with a gracious little bow. Your group is still infiltrating the towers, it wouldn’t do to tell Araj exactly how horrid she smells.

It’s entirely more grace than she deserved, that much is clear because she presses him again. Again, he refuses. “I gave you my answer.”

The drow scoffs, turning back to you once more, “Can’t you talk some sense into your obstinate charge?”

You, for your part, look confused. There’s a line of concern in your forehead as you look between the woman and Astarion, wondering what it is that you’re missing. “I’m surprised, Astarion. I thought you’d enjoy an opportunity like this.”

What?! he thinks, a sudden, sharp spike of anger shooting through him. He tempers his immediate rage and speaks to Araj with that same, false pleasantry she doesn’t deserve, “I’m sorry, but could you excuse us a moment?”

Astarion, not waiting for her response, pulls you aside, away from the drow’s nosy eyes and ears. Once you’re alone, he turns to you, his voice a hiss, “Are you actually asking me to do this? Trading me for some-some-some potion?”

“What’s the matter? Why would she be different from any other enemy?” you ask, leaning toward him.

Your voice is full of genuine worry, and some of his anger abates as he meets your eyes. Of course, they don’t know what they’re asking. How could they know? “Because there’s something wrong with her blood. I can smell it from here. Ugh, it’s rank.”

Now your brows furrow, and a sharp edge enters your eyes as you ask your next question, “What do you mean? What’s wrong with her blood?”

“I can’t say. It just smells… wrong. Unnatural.” His words sound pathetic to his own ears. 

Of course that’s not an excuse, Astarion laments. What am I even thinking? The potion is clearly useful. They are going to make me do this, and I may as well prepare myself. I’ve put up with worse after all.

So, he stands straight once more, ready to put on the performance of a lifetime. His tone takes on a resigned tone as he continues, “Drinking it wouldn’t kill me, but it would not be pleasant.”

You both hear a sigh from behind you. “I don’t have all day, True Soul,” Araj calls, impatiently.

Your eyes remain focused entirely on him, ignoring the woman’s irritated sigh, her entitled words. “Astarion,” you begin, and he takes a breath in preparation for your other foot to drop. “Don’t do anything you don’t want to do. And if she refuses to take no for an answer again, we’ll simply have to start our assault on the towers a bit early.”

The breath leaves him.

"Alright. Uh, thank you,” he says, feeling the tension drop from his shoulders. He’d been prepared to acquiesce, to do exactly what you’d asked of him. But this? This is something he hadn’t been prepared for. 

In a daze, Astarion makes his way back to Araj, putting on as polite of a facade as he’s still capable of making, “It's still a ‘no’, I’m afraid.”

“How very disappointing,” the blood trader says, shooting you both a disgusted look. She turns away in a huff, leaving your group alone to recover from the exchange. And leaving Astarion floundering in another new sensation.

Because once more, the feeling in the pit of his stomach has reared its ugly head– only this time it shoots through him like a bolt of lightning. He's not sure what it is, but it's stunned him into slipping off his carefully crafted mask. He turns to you once more, voice soft around its usual edges, "Thank you. I… appreciated that.”

"You have no need to thank me. It was always your choice, Astarion."

Huh.

The feeling sinks into him, settling deeper and deeper as you continue through Moonrise.

__

That night, you go to bed in your own bedroll, leaving Astarion to his meditations with a smile and a wave. It has been a long day for all of you, and it's clear from the way you take a glance back that you're worried about him.

Gods, he's worried about him.

After dealing with that vile drow woman, you'd all continued about the tower, ingratiating yourselves with even the most repugnant of creatures to appear faithful to the Absolute. But Astarion paid attention to almost none of it.

He'd stabbed when you told him it was time to stab, he'd joined your side when you called him to you, but his mind had been wholly preoccupied.

They didn't make me do it, he'd thought, as he unlocked some chest.

Well, isn't this exactly what I wanted? he'd thought, following you down some stairs.

Clearly they just fell for my charms, my masterful seduction, he'd thought, flanking a prison guard for you.

So why do I feel like this? he'd thought, staring at your back as you led the way before him.

Now, he lays here in his tent, staring at the fold of its ceiling in a rapt fascination he doesn't feel. The feeling in his stomach has stayed all day, tethering him to his thoughts with its continuous pressure.

When did I get to the point where I would follow them anywhere? Is their lack of self-preservation contagious? he asks himself, eyes narrowing in frustration. I shouldn't have gone into that horrendous tower in the first place. Then I wouldn't feel like this.

But he had.

And you'd not forced him to do so.

You'd not forced him to do anything.

They're a fool, an utter fool. I could have bitten that drow, as easy as breathing, he thinks, rolling his eyes at the thought. Close your eyes and push through, that's what I always say.

But did you want to? something in the back of his mind asks. 

Of course not, but when has what I wanted ever mattered– 

It may not have mattered under Cazador's grip, but it has always mattered to you. You're nothing like that evil man. You'd always been there for him, had managed to find trust in your heart for him, and had been genuinely kind to him.

The now-familiar feeling in his stomach seems to spread to the rest of his body, a warmth that doesn't quite feel warm. It bleeds all the way to his face and his lips curl up into an involuntary smile at the thought of you.

You– you, who had only ever been meant to play a bit role in the tragedy that is Astarion’s life. You, who had transcended your part, leaving Astarion contemplating every aspect of you in the stark solitude of his tent. 

Your beauty when you're covered in blood after a battle, the mischievous glint in your eye when you're teaching a child a sleight of hand trick– even when anger pulls your brows together and you're yelling at him for saying something particularly naughty. Each and every one makes his smile grow wider.

You, his chosen protector, are so much more than just that.

They are incredible. The thought comes to him unprompted, truly as easy as breathing.

His eyes widen in alarm, staring blankly at the tent above him.

The feeling in the pit of his stomach wasn’t an illness. Nor was it hunger. No. It was guilt. It was jealousy. It was…

Oh fuck, Astarion curses to himself. Am I in love?

Now that he has a word to the sensation, that the feeling is in his grasp, he knows he's right. He doesn't have a lot of experience with love, if any– he'd never had the luxury under Cazador's cruel gaze and he can't recall much from before that– but he knows he's right.

And hells does he wish he could crush the feeling in his hands right here and now.

Gods, you complete and utter imbecile, he thinks, hitting his head against the floor. You have things to do, goals to accomplish. They were only supposed to be a means to those goals, not a – a–

Astarion’s mind blanks as he thinks of you again, your charm, your wit, your damnable caring.

Not a companion. Not a friend. Not a lover. When did those late night trysts turn from an obligation, a part of his simple, perfect plan, into something more?

Even now, as he thinks of those nights, he brings a hand to his lips, recalling a night where you had simply stayed in his bedroll. You had kept all of your clothes on, as had he, and simply held each other as you fell asleep. Their kiss that night was delectable, he recalls, tracing the line of his lips, as if he could still feel the ghost of yours on them.

Fuck, he thinks again, dropping his hand in frustration. How could I have been so blind? How did I not nip this in the bud before it got to this disgusting pining?

But he hasn’t nipped it in the bud. The feeling has grown, unfettered, quick as a druidic plant growth, all unbeknownst to him. It has been nurtured by your attention. It has been watered by your kindness. It has become unruly in the safety of your arms.

Now what? he thinks to himself bitterly, wiping a hand across his face with a sigh. What use are these feelings when everything they were built upon is a lie? You are, after all, still playing the role he set out for you.

He considers overlooking the feelings, just as he has inadvertently done in his ignorance. It wouldn’t be of any use to tell you, of course. You could hardly feel the same way about him as he does you, and he’d rather not add another nuisance in the fight against the Absolute.

Besides, if he told you, he would have to fess up, explain his entire plan to you. What would even be left of the two of you after that?

But, he thinks to himself. Let’s say I did tell them. What could they possibly say…

“I was pretending all along too.” – gods, that would break him. That much is all too apparent from the way his undead heart aches at the thought, with a pain he couldn’t possibly feel.

“I like you, but not like that.” – maybe this was worse. Actually, it was definitely worse. He may never recover. His ego would certainly never recover.

“I have someone else that I love.” – honestly, reasonable. What did he have to offer you after all? A bloodthirsty master and the occasional snarky comment? He wouldn’t be surprised to find you in Karlach’s tent at this very moment…

“I hate you.” – he might be able to take this the best. You should hate him. He’d done nothing but lie and manipulate his way into your bedroll. Hate, well, that he understood.

“I love you, but…” – every single 'but' cut like a different, jagged blade. But we’re in danger every day? An excuse, surely. But you come with too much baggage? True, but not something he would be able to resolve. But I don’t want to be with a monster? Again, reasonable, but out of his control.

Astarion runs through scenario after scenario, each one playing with his own emotions in a new and horrendous way. In the end, he all but slaps himself out of it.

No, I cannot tell them. I absolutely must take this to my second grave, he determines, shaking the thoughts away with a few hard blinks.

But the feeling in his chest is more persistent than ever. As if giving it a name and meaning has given it a new, annoying life. He laments to himself aloud, "I may never feel like myself again.”

If this is what love does to a person, he wants no part of it.

__

The vampire didn't have a restful night's reverie, that much is apparent. His mood is foul, his body tense, and his eyes are trying their damnedest to avoid yours. 

No way, he thinks as you all set off for the day. I spun myself into a frenzy last night. Clearly. I feel absolutely nothing–

Then you turn back to him, concern lining your eyes as you address him. What had you just said? He had found himself somehow lost in your eyes, your lips, the turn of your nose… 

Shit, he thinks to himself. No, get back in control. You have only just reclaimed yourself, you can't lose yourself to something as cruel as love.

But, try as he might, his eyes can’t avoid you. 

All morning, he continues to sneak glances your way. Despite his roguish nature, he finds hiding his stares to be impossible. After all, you are the group’s leader. You are at the front, you are at his side, gods, you are everywhere. This feels like some kind of divine punishment…

You catch him looking, of course. And each time, he curses himself, gods, you idiot. You may as well broadcast your feelings to the world. And hells, how long have you felt this way?

Astarion tries futilely to act normal. This is just another day with the group in the Shadowlands. He’s not thinking about holding your hand in his. He’s not thinking about the way you look when you sleep. And, above all else, he is not thinking of your lips or the way that they move when you say his name.

Despite his inner turmoil, the world moves on. You lead the group through the Mason’s Guild, and you all manage to clear the place out easily enough.

The vampire thinks he’s finally reaching some sort of peace. Yes, this routine work he can do. No problem at all.

Then, you say something kind to Karlach, that infernally charming woman, who continues to support you at your side. Who, for all intents and purposes, should be the person who warms your bedroll at night, now that you can touch her. Not him, the man who can only make your bedroll colder. Who, even now, is avoiding your every glance.

Oh hells, he thinks, face dropping. The realization that he’s right is too much for him to bear.

Astarion stalks off, annoyed at himself and his thoughts, needing a moment to recollect himself. I can do this, he thinks. I can do this. I can–

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath once he knows he’s alone. “You’re supposed to get over this, you stupid fool. Shit. Gods dammit.”

He hears your familiar footfalls approaching and freezes, his shoulders tense with anticipation.

You find him in a pool of shadows away from the others, and he can’t help but feel like a beast that’s been cornered. He’s certain his face reflects that, reflects every bit of emotion he’s feeling as plain as could be, but your patience with him has apparently worn thin for the day. Your voice is less kind than usual when you say, “Do you need to talk?”

Seeing the anger in your face, the way that your hands are placed on your hips in annoyance, he knows he can’t keep his feelings to himself. He’ll only continue to push you away, into the strong, red arms of another.

No, he thinks, in a panic. I should– I need to–

He needs to do something about his feelings, unwanted or not. Really, he needs to tell you, regardless of what your response may be. If not, he may regret it for the rest of his undying life.

Now that he is in control of his own choices, he supposes that means all of them, for better or worse. That means even the most difficult ones. This is one of those difficult ones, isn’t it?

So Astarion swallows his pride, his anxieties, his insecurities, and settles his fate.

“Later,” he says, barely getting the words out. He blinks, and tries again, pleading with you with his eyes, “Please, just come by my tent later.”

Later, I will tell them. Everything.

[kimbappykidding]

How Seventeen react when you tell them you’re pregnant

Scoups - Goes into planning mode

Although you were shocked and a little scared to discover you were pregnant part of you relaxed when you remembered who your partner was. 

The second you told Scoups and established you wanted to keep the baby he was in organisation mode. He immediately started listing everything he was going to do to make this as easy as possible for you. First was getting you the best doctors and medical care possible. Then he moved onto delaying his military enrollment so he could be with you in the early years when babies are most stressful. His mind was rapidly covering all avenues, from pre-schools and buying a home together to potentially moving so you could be closer to your family when he stopped, realising you hadn't said anything. 

Y/n are you okay?" he asked and you nodded smiling "yeah I just realised I'm the luckiest woman in the world having you as my partner. You just listed tons of things I didn't even think of, you're so well prepared". Scoups blushed "ow well...I just want to make things as good as possible for you and the baby". You smiled "they will be but we don't have to do anything just yet, why don't we sit and take it all in". Scoups nodded "okay, take it all in...Y/n we're going to be parents" he said as if the thought just occurred to him and you laughed "yep and amazing ones too". Scoups nodded and hugged you "I'll make sure of it if it's the last thing I do".

Jeonghan - Calms you down and assures you everything is going to be okay

Jeonghan could always tell when you were nervous and he always knew how to calm you down.

When he realised you'd hardly eaten anything throughout dinner he knew something was wrong and he asked you what was up. Then you broke down and it all spilled out. "I'm happy but also just so in shock, I have no idea what we're going to do" you cried and Jeonghan nodded. 

He carefully eased you into a chair and took your hand "Y/n just breathe okay, everything is going to be okay I promise". "But how?" you asked "I have no idea if I'll be a good mother Jeonghan or if I can do this". Jeonghan took your hand "that's just the fear talking. I've seen you around kids and they love you! You're the strongest person I've ever seen, you'll be an amazing mother and I promise I'm going to be right beside you every step of the way". "You promise?" you asked and he nodded "I swear, now come here" and he wrapped you up in a hug. You cried a little more and then Jeonghan soon had you laughing and feeling better. You both started looking online for fun baby clothes and toys and by the end of it you were smiling again. All thanks to Jeonghan.

Joshua - Incredibly wholesome

When you told Joshua it felt like some k-drama, the moment was that perfect. You'd been waiting for the right time to tell Joshua all night but things kept happening. First Joshua had a tough day at work and was really tired, then dinner was ruined so you had to go out to eat and then your car broke down so you had to walk home. You weren't far away when you passed a neighbour with their child. You said hello and Joshua smiled "their kid is so cute, I can't wait until we have one too" and that seemed to be like fate intervening so you told Joshua that moment would be sooner than he thought.   The world seemed to slow and Joshua's whole posture changed. He looked at you, his eyes suddenly more alert and brighter "what?". You repeated yourself quietly and added "I'm pregnant...we're going to have a baby". A smile lit up Joshua's face and he tentatively looked at your stomach "we are?". You laughed "well according to two pregnancy tests and a doctor, yeah". Joshua laughed and swept towards you gently "this is the best news I've ever heard, I'm so happy" and he held you against him. Then it began to snow and you really did look around for the camera crew but no it was just you and Joshua but in nine months there would be a new edition.

Jun - Doesn't quite get what you're saying

"Jun you're going to be a dad" you said and he nodded "yeah hopefully someday, do you want the last piece of pizza".

You paused a little confused how easily he’d gotten over that news and tried again. You shook your head "no Jun I...". "Are you sure? It's got all the toppings on you like, cheese, tomato, salami". "No I can't eat salami" you said and he paused "ow are you going vegan? That's cool I'll do it with you". "No Jun I'm not going vegan I'm expecting". He nodded "expecting what? Do you mean for your comeback because that's weeks away and you deserve a little splurge...". "No Jun I'm expecting a baby" you said and that caught his attention.

"You're expecting a baby...like your sister is visiting?". "No like I'm going to have one myself" you cried getting exasperated at how he wasn't getting this. "Now?" he asked beginning to get it and you shook your head "well obviously not right this second but in 9 months time I will". Jun blinked several times before he looked at you "Y/n are you saying...do you mean that...". "I'm pregnant" you said and his eyes widened "you are! I did that?". You laughed "well I'm pretty sure it's you yeah unless it's an immaculate conception". Jun threw the pizza down "why didn't you say something?" and you rolled your eyes praying the baby got your tact and deception skills...but from Jun’s ectactic smile you’d be more than happy for it to get anything else from its father. 

Hoshi - so excited

You weren't too sure how Hoshi would take the news. You knew he wanted kids but you were both still young and he loved his freedom and independence. Two things which vanished with a child. He'd be happy but it might be difficult for him to wrap his head around...or so you thought. The second the words left your lips Hoshi's mouth hung open and he stared at you. "Hoshi" you said nervously "Hoshi say something, anything! Are you going to pass out?". In response he cheered and wrapped his arms around you. "A baby? we're going to have a baby?" he cried and you laughed "yes Hoshi that's how this whole pregnant thing works". Hoshi cheered again and you broke down laughing "so you're happy?". "Of course I'm happy!" he cried "this is the greatest news ever! A baby that's half you and half me? It's going to rule the world! Aww imagine if it has your eyes and my smile? Or your nose and my smile? Or your ears and my smile? Basically I want it to get everything from you except for my smile". You couldn't believe how hyper he was and you'd seen him hyper tons of times! The boy was simply ecstatic about the news and you knew you should've never doubted him.

“What?” Hoshi asked, realising you were staring at him and you smiled shrugging. “Nothing just I’m so happy we’re going through this together...that I get to experience this with you” you admitted “I can’t think of a man who would make a better father”. Hoshi’s expression changed and his eyes filled with tears. He cried happily and hugged you “I love you so much” he said and you wiped his tears away “I love you too Hoshi”. 

Your baby was going to arrive to a very loving family and you couldn’t wait.

Wonwoo - Very calm

When you told Wonwoo the news you were shaking. You weren't worried about him more just nervous about the whole thing. You were thrilled but it was a huge life event and your lives would never be the same. But the reason you and Wonwoo worked is he balanced you. 

Wonwoo was so happy but you were still worried and rattled off all the things you weren't sure of. "I need to find a good doctor and should I get a paediatrician? I have no idea what I can eat and what I can't eat. Am I allowed to eat dairy? Do I have to just eat vegetables?". Wonwoo stopped you spiralling by gently putting a hand on your shoulder "Y/n don't worry we'll work all of that out and you don't have to do anything you don't want to. We'll find a doctor and sit down and ask them all out questions but for now why don't we just get something nice to drink and celebrate?". "Celebrate?" you asked and Wonwoo laughed softly "well it's the weekend so no doctors are open. We can't do anything so let's just take it easy this weekend and wait until we can do something about it". You nodded "yeah that makes sense..." and Wonwoo smiled "great so I'll grab the non-alcoholic drink and you pick a movie". 

You did as he said and for the first time since you'd heard the news relaxed. You weren't alone, you had your other half to balance you out.  

Woozi - Cries

Now Woozi isn't one to get emotional. He likes to pretend he's okay even when he's not but he's also a huge softie and sometimes the emotions win out. When you told him, Woozi went quiet and pale and you were worried he was taking it badly. He nodded as you explained to him how far along you were and what symptoms you had before looking down. You frowned and reached out for his hand "are you okay?" getting slightly nervous. Woozi took a deep breath and looked back up revealing the tears he'd been holding back. "Of course I'm okay this is wonderful news" he smiled sniffling and you broke. You burst into tears which made Woozi cry too and you were both clutching each other so happy and excited. "You're going to be the best mum in the world" Woozi told you and you smiled and replied "this baby is going to have the best dad in the world, I know you'll be perfect". You and Woozi then spent the remainder of your day wrapped up together in a blanket fantasising about your new baby and everything you couldn't wait to show it. "I hope it likes music" Woozi said stroking your hand and you smiled "of course it will it's your child! Music will be in its blood" and Woozi smiled "I'll set up a station for it in my studio" clearly very excited and you hugged him tighter. 

DK - Screams and then faints

You knew DK might be a little unprepared for the news but you didn't expect him to pass out on the floor after letting out a k-drama-worthy scream. "DK!" you cried fanning him as you cradled his head on the floor. "DK are you okay? Should I call an ambulance?". He was conscious but seemed out of it, he was muttering something over and over again but you couldn't work out what it was. "Dk?" you asked and then you realised what he was saying. "A baby?" he asked and you nodded "yes Dk a baby, you're doing to be a dad" which almost made him pass out again "okay I won't say the b-word...erm think about dogs and summer and Christmas and all the things that make you happy". Dk nodded and did as you said before he finally felt well enough to sit up. Once he was upright he took a few deep breaths looking at you before he spoke "I'm going to be a father...". You nodded "yes you will but don't worry we can do this together and we'll have so much support from our friends and your members". Dk nodded "yeah you're right, we've always wanted to be parents so we're going to smash this" his positivity returning. You nodded "of course we will!" when Dk suddenly gasped "Y/n I'm so sorry I fainted. You're the one literally growing a human being and I was the one lying around on the floor! If I promise this will be my only weakness in your whole pregnancy and that I will be your rock no matter what you need will you forgive me?". You laughed "Dk you don't need me to forgive you because there's nothing to forgive. I actually loved your reaction because it's so authentic just like you, you didn't pretend you were okay just for appearances. You were honest and your worry and concern is how I know you're going to try so hard for our child and that just makes me love you even more". Dk blushed and hugged you "and that's why you're the perfect woman for me and we're going to have the most wonderful baby ever". Dk's optimism and positivity as well as his honesty was going to make this a very fun pregnancy.

Mingyu - Immediately turns overprotective

You weren't sure what Mingyu's reaction would be so you tried to be really careful and deliberate with how you told him. You got confirmation from a doctor first and the idea was to tell Mingyu after dinner when you were more relaxed and calm but you were too excited. So the minute you got home from the doctors you found Mingyu and told him where you'd been.

Once Mingyu realised what you were trying to tell him he grabbed a chair and began to pull it out. You figured he needed to sit down but he started easing you into it. "Are you okay? How are you feeling? Do you need me to get you anything?". "What?" you asked and he smiled "well I know pregnancy can be really hard sometimes and I want you to know I am at your beck and call 24 hours a day. I will cook you whatever you have cravings for and you do not have to want for anything. I'll cut down my hours at work too so I can be there for you and I promise I'll make this as easy as possible for you". You laughed "Mingyu that's so sweet but I'm only a month and a half pregnant. It's not too bad at the moment and I'm not even showing". He nodded "I know but my mom had a really bad pregnancy and even if you don't it's going to be tiring and difficult so I want you to know I'm here for you, whatever you need". You blushed and nodded believing him "okay Mingyu" and kissed him softly.

The8 - Super energetic

The8 had two moods, he was either chill and calm or hyper and outgoing. When you told him you were pregnant you got the latter. The8 immediately started cheering and jumping up and down, doing cartwheels and just basically anything to get his energy out. "This is amazing!" he yelled before coming to hug you in a huge bear hug and you laughed "so I take it you're happy". "I'm thrilled!" he replied breaking away from you to do a flip. You laughed watching him "let's just hope the baby doesn't get your energy or I'll be getting no sleep". "Then I'll stay up with you" The8 replied before he gasped "can we call my mom? I can't wait to tell her". You nodded "of course we can tell everyone" when the door opened and Dk, Vernon and Dino appeared. "We heard screaming is something wrong?" Dino asked. The8 smiled "nothing's wrong just...Y/n's pregnant!". The boys all cheered and The8 rushed to hug them all and you watched as they all bounced up and down excitedly. "Where are the others?" The8 asked and Vernon said they were in the living room. So The8 bounded off happily shouting the news to everybody and anybody nearby and you watched him amused. 

This baby had a very excited parent waiting to meet them.

Seungkwan - Emotional af

Seungkwan had been dreaming of being a father since he was a kid. While most boys were playing with action figures or cars he had baby dolls and had his first child's name picked out at the ripe old age of 10. So you knew he'd be happy when you told him you were pregnant but you weren't expecting quite so much emotion.

When you told him, Seungkwan gasped and collapsed to the floor. You rushed to make sure he was okay and in reply Seungkwan just grabbed your hands and asked if you were being serious. When you confirmed you were he flew into your arms and burst into tears "this is the greatest day of my life!" he cried cradling you slightly and his happy tears turned into full-on sobs. He kept repeating "thank you" and "you're amazing" over and over again as you held onto him. "Seungkwan it's okay, you don't have to thank me" you told him cradling his face and he smiled still crying "I know but I want to because you've made me so happy, not just for this but for everything since you came into my life and this is the icing on the cake". "Aww Seungkwan!" you cried and held him closer. A few minutes later Seungkwan was excitedly googling pre-schools and found one just a five-minute drive from his work. "Just imagine it Y/n! I can pick them up after school finishes and we can go get something to eat and go to that cool park we always like walking through and in the summer we can go to the lake and then you can meet us after work! We could even get a dog and then we could..." and he continued on and on changing moods for hours until he eventually fell asleep exhausted. You covered him up with a blanket smiling, Seungkwan would have no problem keeping up with the baby's energy.

Vernon - Can’t speak

It had been two hours since you'd told Vernon and he was still sat in the same chair staring at the wall. He'd assured you he was okay and happy with the news, he just needed some time to process it. However that was a while ago and you were beginning to think you'd broken him. "Vernon sweetie...are you okay? Do you need anything? Water...Scoups...an ambulance?". He looked at you and shook his head "no I'm okay just processing". "Okay but you've been processing for two hours now and I'm getting worried". He looked at the clock confused and his whole face dropped "shit...sorry you're the one he's actually got to do all the hard work and here I'm freaking out". "No you're allowed a freakout, it's big news". He nodded "yeah it is, it is...Y/n I promise I'm going to do my best to be a good partner and parent". You chuckled "I know Vernon, I have no doubt you'll be an amazing father". "You don't?" he asked and you smiled "of course not! Vernon you're so kind and sweet and caring...what else could I or this baby ask for?". Vernon visibly relaxed and finally smiled "this is going to be so cool". You chuckled "it really will be".

Dino - excited to be a cool young dad

At first, Dino's only concern was you were both quite young and he worried this might've come too soon in your life but he soon realised there were positives to this. For one you'd both be young parents and he was very excited about that. “Just imagine us Y/n, strolling along the beach with our young family! We'll be able to keep up with the child no problem and when we go to school we'll be the young cool parents who all the kids admire. I can ride a motorbike and everything!". "But you don't know how to ride a motorbike" you laughed and Dino shrugged "so? I'm sure I can learn and don't you think now is a good time?". You laughed "hmm well you're more likely to get in an accident riding a motorbike than a car and we have our first child on the way...". Dino nodded his expression changed in seconds "of course what am I thinking? I have to be responsible and dependable for you and the baby too. No a motorbike won't do, do you think I should trade in my car for something more family-friendly?". You laughed "what happened to being the cool young dad?". "Forget that I want to be the safe dad who lives a long time and watches his child grow up". You smiled hugging him "well that sounds very good to me".   _____________ To note: even though these are "unexpected" pregnancies I wrote them with the idea that each couple did want to have children and so wanted the child that's why they kept the baby. Not every couple needs or wants to have children and of course no woman, pregnant person or couple should be forced to have a child just because they got pregnant. That's actually a pretty terrible reason to have a baby and I in no way wanted to reinforce that harmful idea. I also want to stay abortion is a more than acceptable alternative to having a child and everyone who has an abortion is valid.  Also not every couple needs a baby and I personally never want kids! I just thought it'd be cute to imagine Seventeen wanting a child and their partner getting pregnant :)

[exhaslo]

Kinktober Day 30- Villain!Miguel x Hero!Reader

*Requested by so many of you that I had to incorporate so much in here. So- breeding, glove kink, fingering, dark thoughts, kidnap and so much more. Might make this a damn mini series because I fell in love with it!*

        This was not how you expected your day to go. Everything was going smoothly as you patrolled the city for any crimes. You stopped a few bad guys, retrieved a stolen purse and helped an elderly couple with directions. All the normal stuff. None of your big villains were out committing crimes, so you had a moment of peace. At least you were until you met him. A new villain who was a big threat, but not in the way you expected him to be.

        Before you even met this new threat, you were responding to an explosion at the Alchemax building. It was the last place you wanted to go since you worked there, but it was also where you received your powers. Swinging towards the tall building, you noticed people falling. Quickly, you scooped each person and brought them down to safety. They thanked you and begged you to stop the mad man who was tossing them like rag dolls.

        Whoever this person was had no care for human life. You huffed as you crawled your way up to the building. Entering through the broken glass, you coughed towards the smoke. You had to stop the fire from spreading. Webbing as much as you could, you continued inside the building, wondering where this new threat was.

"Ahí estás, mi hermoso nuevo sujeto de prueba. (There you are, my beautiful new test subject.)" A voice called out.

        You flinched, jumping away as you tried to locate the voice. It was strange, this person almost sounded like your extremely sexy, yet insane, coworker, Miguel O'Hara. Miguel was the son of your boss and CEO of Alchemax, Tyler Stone. Miguel was dangerous to say the least. He shared his father's beliefs and was determined to test the DNA of spiders on regular people, cue how you got your powers. You were lucky to have it been an accident. Everyone else did not share the same fate.

        Either way, you never saw Miguel turning fully evil. It was just a disappointment too, especially after fantasizing about him. Shaking the thought out of your head, you tried to look through the smoke. You gasped lowly, noticing a tall and buff figure before you. This was defiantly not Miguel. Miguel was a twig.

"¿Sorprendido por mi nuevo look? (Surprised by my new look?)" The man spoke as the smoke cleared, "I'm just like you now, but better." Miguel said with a fanged smirk.

        If your jaw could drop, it would. He really was insane! Miguel tested on himself and now had spider powers like you? This could only end in disaster. You went to web him in place, but Miguel was faster. He grabbed your wrists and pinned you against the floor. His body hovered over yours, causing your heart to race. This was bad, very bad.

"Don't look so scared, cariño (sweetheart). I'm not going to hurt you," You were so focused on his fangs,

"H-How am I supposed to believe that?!" You huffed, trying to kick him away. Miguel pinned your legs down,

"I would never harm the successful ones," He brought his head to your neck, inhaled deeply, "You smell so sweet, cariño. I'm going to take such good care of you."

"I don't think you mean that in a good way,"

        Miguel just chuckled darkly as his new red orbs stared directly at you. It was scary how strong he was. You didn't have fangs and you sure as shit were not this strong. You let out a small yelp as you felt Miguel inject something into you. You vision began to blur as your body weaken.

"Vamos a formar el equipo perfecto, cariño. (We're going to make the perfect team, sweetheart.)

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

        A soft grunt escaped your lips as you started to come back to your senses. You fluttered your eyes open, wincing at bright white walls. Trying to make sense of what happened, you shivered in response. Your eyes widen as you recalled Miguel. You raised your head, whimpering as you felt your naked body strapped to a soft table. You were confused and scared. Your mask was off too. Miguel really was insane and you had no idea what he was going to do to you.

"Ah, you're awake." Miguel said as he walked in with his lab coat over his bare chest, "I was surprised to see that it was you under that mask, (Y/N). How very naughty of you to hide right under my nose. Perhaps that is why I took an interest in you."

"A-As much as I would love to hear more...Please let me go," You begged, fear creeping into your system. Miguel walked over to you, his fingers stroking your body from your legs to your neck,

"Can't do that, cariño. Right now, I'm studying you." He hummed lowly, "Tienes un cuerpo bastante sensible. Perfecto para mi. (You have quite the sensative body. Perfect for me.)

"Miguel, please...I know I lied to you, but we've known each other for years. Please let me go,"

"You'll run away if I do." Miguel walked over, fixing his gloves, "I need you."

        You glanced around the lab, trembling in fear. This did not look like any of the labs back in Alchemax. It gave off a more homey atmosphere. Even the table you were on was soft. You knew that Miguel had some common sense in him. You just needed to find and exploits it so you can get free. You weren't lying when you had known him for years. Hell, you even had a crush on this mad scientist. Perhaps you could use that to your advantage.

"I-I won't run away. I....I'll corporates. I know you like things to be easy," You said with a whimper. Miguel's eyes sparkled for a moment as you saw his fangs poke out again,

"You'll be a good girl for me?" He asked.

        Oh, if it weren't for the situation you were in, you'd find that extremely sexy. You had to admit, you were a good girl which is why you became a hero. So much for avoiding the liking bad boys trope. You gave a hesitant nod towards Miguel, hoping that he would at least free your hands.

"Spread your legs out for me the," He demanded. You gulped, slowly doing as he said, "Que hermoso coño. Todo para mi. (What a beautiful pussy. All for me.) Did you have any major changes to your reproductive system when you got your abilities?" He asked.

        You trembled as Miguel started to touch your inner thighs. You replied to him with a 'no'. His fingers just stroked your legs as he loosen the binds on your feet. He kept your legs up, retying your feet. You could only twitch as the cold air hit your cunt. Miguel was watching your reaction. He fixed his glove one more time, spreading your folds. You squeaked, wanting to complain, but you knew that would only make him mad. You were his new test subject. You had to behave or he will hurt you.

"Don't be so scared, cariño. I'm not going to hurt my good girl," Miguel whispered as his finger entered your hole. You whined lowly as he explored your insides with his thick finger, "So tight, you've stayed single, yes?"

"Y-Yes." You replied, trembling as his finger alone stretched you out. You needed to change the topic, "M-Miguel, b-besides fangs...and your physic...w-what else affect you?" You stuttered as he pressed against you cunt.

"Tsk, tsk, don't change the topic. We're focusing on you."

        You bit your lower lip, almost afraid of where this was going. Almost. The deep dark part of you was getting horny at the thought of what Miguel might do to you. It was bad. You were tied up in his private lab with his finger inside you. Miguel was a villain now. You could not allow yourself to be swayed by him. Right as you were about to ask something else, Miguel entered another finger. You hit your head back, letting out a soft mewl in response.

"Good response. Flow is above average according to the data, but all the better for me." Miguel spoke to himself, pumping his fingers inside your dripping cunt, "Now for the length until burst."

        You whined as you tried to move your hips as Miguel's fingers pumped deep inside you. His two fingers alone were larger than some of your toys. This was the most pleasure you had ever felt. You gasped sharply as he curled his fingers. He kept curling as if he was searching for your weak spot. Once he found it, you broke down. A loud moan escaped your lips as your body shook in pleasure. You cam against his gloved hand, your pussy clenching against his fingers, wanting more.

"Qué rápido. Es más fácil para mí criar. (How quick. Easier for me to breed.)" He smirked, taking his glove off.

"Hah....hah....Miguel?" You panted softly, relaxing from your high. Miguel took off his lab coat, typing away on his computer.

"User experiencing intense thoughts of breeding, higher salivation, increase blood-"

"A-Are you okay?" You asked, wondering if he was now having side effects of experimenting on himself. Miguel stood straight and made his way over to you,

"I'm not, but luckily I have a hero here to save me. You will save me, right?" He leaned closer to you, his hot breathe against your neck.

"H-How can I?" You knew you shouldn't have asked.

        The look Miguel had was lustful and curious. He placed himself between you legs, revealing his large, harden cock. You could feel your heart about to leap from your chest. Miguel's breathing was irregular and his pupils were blown. This wasn't an experiment anymore. He was taken over by lust.

"My good girl," Miguel stole a kiss from you, the tip of his dick pressing against your folds, "I can't stay mad at you for hiding this little secret. Not when our offspring will be perfect."

"M-Mig-" You winced as you felt his cock stretch your walls, "Mhm...W-Wait-" You begged.

        You whimpered as Miguel kept pushing. His hands were stroking your body. You whined and lifted your hips slightly as his dick kept entering your tight walls. He was so big. It felt uncomfortable at first, but you started to get hotter and wetter. Miguel's tip kissed your cervix, threating to enter. Your pussy pulsed around his cock, taking in his large shape. Miguel grunted lowly, inhaling at the thought of finally being inside you,

"¡Un ajuste perfecto, estábamos hechos el uno para el otro! (A perfect fit, we were made for each other!)" He roared in laughter before slamming his hips into yours.

        Your body arched as you let out a breath taking moan. Miguel was bullying your poor pussy with his monster of a cock. Each time he filled you back up with his dick, you felt your vision blur. Your loud moans were overtaking the wet slapping noises of your bodies connecting with each thrust. Miguel's grunts getting sloppier as he rutted into you like the madman he was. He grazed his fangs over your shoulders, biting into your skin. You cried out, blood tingling down.

"M-Mig~" You cried out, begging for freedom. Miguel licked his lips as he felt you tighten against him, "G-Gon...na cum...p-please....M-Mig, please~!" You begged repeatedly.

        Miguel just smirked as he watched you fall apart. He freed your arms, allowing you to wrap them around his neck. He held your hips tighter as you cam against his dick. Miguel kept thrusting through your high. You whimpered his name as Miguel stopped to cum inside your womb. His chuckle echoing the room as he placed you back down on the table, putting you on your side.

"We're not done yet, cariño. I have the stamina to last for hours," He whispered harshly before pounding into your pussy again, "Oh? What's this scar? How did my little subject get hurt?" He actually sounded concerned.

"Ah...I-I g-got it...mhm...f-from...hah~ V-Vulture..." You finally said between moans. Miguel growled lowly as he lifted your leg over his shoulder, slapping his dick deeper inside you, "AH~ s'much....deep~" You cried out.

"How dare he." Miguel's tone got darker as he watched you fall victim to another orgasm, "As of today, you are officially retired as Spider-woman. I won't allow my perfect partner to get hurt again."

"B-But-"

"I'll take over the role," The look in his eyes turned wicked, "When I'm done with them there won't be anyone left to challenge us as the superior beings." Miguel chuckled as he gave you another load of his cum.

"Miguel," You whimpered lowly.

        Miguel noticed your body losing feeling. He placed you on your knees and noticed the area where he bit you. His tongue grazed over his fangs, realizing that he had paralyzing venom. A sinister chuckle escaped his lips as he continued his harsh charade of thrusts from behind now. You body twitching and shaking from the overstimulation. Your moans getting louder as your face grew more blissed out. Miguel pulled your hair, forcing you to arch your back,

"How does that sound? Are you going to be my good girl and stay here as my perfect subject?" He whispered in your ear as he pounded your drenched pussy.

"Y-Yes! Yes, yes!" You cried out, unable to think straight. Miguel stroked your back as you tighten around his dick again,

"I won't let you leave. I'm going to find out everything about you as you carry our perfect offspring. Qué hermosa eres, siendo contaminada por este villano. Me aseguraré de que todos sepan que fui yo quien te jodió hasta someterte. (How beautiful you are, being tainted by this villain. I'll make sure everyone knows that I'm the one who fucked you into submission.)" He chuckled.

"Mhm~ M-Miguel~" You moaned lowly, feeling yourself drift from the numbness. 

        Miguel hummed to himself as he gave you one last load. Pulling out, Miguel raised the table and fixed you on your back. He had your hips raised, wanting to make sure that his cum stayed inside you. Miguel stroked your hair as you fell asleep before making his way to his computer.

"Set reminder to not use fangs during breeding session. Subject will not last and it isn't as fun without her cries." 

[oh-thats-what-it-is]

Jess Mariano SMUT: The best friend and the boyfriend.

POV: Your best friend Rory always gets what she wants as the town’s golden girl. Well, you have had enough and its time you get what you want.

WARNINGS: 18+ (minors dni); cheating; rory slander; lorelai slander; p in v intercourse; dirty talk; unprotected sex; light choking - i think that is it

AUTHOR’S NOTE: wasn’t enough jess smut for me on here. Wanna fix that! first time writing anything so please be gentle. 2k+ words

You’re at Luke’s diner trying to get some work done before your exam tomorrow. The wetness inbetween your legs was proving a great distraction to the task at hand. You had to muster every ounce of concentration to listen to what Lane and Rory were saying. The three of you were finishing up your group project for school. You had all been friends for years, but recently you had found it hard to be yourself around them.

The reason for that, was standing behind the counter, serving customers with a surly look and a quippy comment if he spoke at all. Jess.

The whole town knew about him and Rory. How could they not? Stars’ Hollows’ golden girl drew attention wherever she went. Her and Dean’s romance had been the talk of the town - the stuff of young love! And she could do no wrong. Even after she dragged Dean through hell and back with her indecisiveness before ultimately bringing him to breaking point - people still loved her.

And hey - you did too. She was your best friend. But you couldn't help but roll your eyes at the way the town fawned over her. Even though it had been happening your whole lives. Rory and her busybody, try-hard mother were the apple of the town’s eyes. And you were used to it.

But you had been surprised that Jess had fallen for it. When he arrived in town, a sullen and brooding figure, you had immediately felt drawn to him. You could sense his angst. You could feel it vibrating off of him. And lets not pretend like he wasn’t a total smokeshow. He looked like a man.

If only Lorelai and Luke weren’t so close. Then you might have gotten your chance. But as fate had it, and as it always seemed to, Rory got in there first. Lorelai invited Luke and Jess over for a welcome dinner, and he instantly became smitten with Rory’s mild manner. It only took a matter of months - and a breaking of one Dean Forrestor’s heart - until they became an item.

At first it was all rosy. Rory wouldn’t shut up about it. But you could tell. Something wasn’t quite right. Two months passed and Rory would go red every time Jess was brought up, or came to sit with your group at lunch. You asked Rory - genuinely as a friend. She would just mumble and divert the subject. Lane also pressed, but there was no budging Miss Gilmore.

It was only a month ago when you cottoned on to what the problem was. You had been wearing jeans that hugged your ass, and a top that teased just enough of your cleavage to make anyone blush. You bumped into Jess in the hallway at school. As in, physically bumped into him, as he came around the corner. He grabbed onto you out of instinct to apologise.

“Oh hi Y/N. What are you….” His eyes trailed down to your chest. You didn’t notice at first. You thought he was dazed by the surprise interaction.

“Just on my way to Spanish. Señora Castilla is making us do a book report - I’m doing 100 years of Solitude.”

“Hmm” he responded. “That’s one of my favourites. Magical realism, love, scandal - “

And then you clock. His eyes are on your tits. His hand is still on you. On the small of your back.

This man is hungry. He hasn’t been laid or anything of the sort in a while. Or at least since he has been with Rory. Jess wants you. You avert your gaze.

“Jess. I have to go.”

He moved his hand lower, testing the waters. You don’t remove it. You inhaled, trying to retain your morals. You remind yourself: We’re in the middle of the hallway. At school. He is Rory’s boyfriend. Rory is my best friend.

You repeated these over and over to yourself like a mantra, willing yourself to move. After what seems like an eternity, he whispers in your ear: “My car. 10 minutes,” and sauntered away.

And that was how it began. A whole month of some of the steamiest makeout sessions, hottest sex, and best orgasms of your life. Did the secrecy turn you on? Maybe. Did you feel bad for Rory? Perhaps. But were those moments with Jess worth it? Absolutely.

You had to be careful. Not just to avoid Rory and Lane. But Luke couldn’t know either. If he did, he would have gone straight to Lorelai and it would have been a whole thing. It wasn’t worth it. So the two of you would sneak in quickies in his car, behind Miss Patty’s studio, in the AV room at school etc.

But Luke was out tonight. Doing something for Lorelai probably. Who knows. Jess had suggested the two of you take advantage of the situation. He had recently acquired his own room at Luke’s, ever since his uncle had knocked a hole in the wall for him. It wasn’t much, but you couldn’t wait to share a bed with him, and take your sweet time worshipping his body.

“Okay Y/N, we’re off. You coming?” Asked Lane.

“Nah, I have a bunch more work to do for my college application. I will see you both tomorrow?”

Rory went over to give Jess a kiss goodbye. You couldn’t help but smirk as you saw him looking at you as she kissed his cheek. The two girls waved goodbye and left the cafe.

The minute they left, Jess pounced on your table. He summoned Cesar to take over his shift and close up.

“Cmon baby” he whispered, taking care not make it look obvious to the other customers what was going on.

You and Jess went up the stairs silently but quickly. The minute you reached the top flight and opened the door into the living quarters, Jess slammed the door shut and pressed you against it.

“Do you know how bad you are? Sitting right next to my girlfriend and giving me those ‘fuck me’ eyes all night? It was all i could do not to take you on the table right there.”

His forehead was against yours, his hands cradling your face. All you could see was him. All you could feel was him.

“Such a good boy for restraining yourself,” you cooed, trying lure him into making the first move. Each time you were together, it still felt like new. A game of chicken. Who would break first? Fresh and dangerous, yet familiar and comforting all at once. “It must have been so hard for you” you said, moving your hand towards his crotch. “Show me how much you want me” you dared.

It was too much for him. He growled and leant in to kiss you with everything he had. He was messy and sloppy with need. His teeth clashed against yours. You moaned with need. Your hands wandered to your waist, dipping under your trousers, then your panties. You started playing with your clit and panting his name back into his mouth.

You were still against the door. Jess moved his hands under your shirt, finding the valley of your chest easily as you hadn’t worn a bra today.

“Fuck” he said, breaking the kiss. “You had your tits out all day baby girl? You are such a slut, wanting everyone to notice.”

Before you could begin to formulate a reply, his mouth was on your left nipple. You sighed as he sucking with such fervour. Just as you got used to the sensation enough to say something witty to him, he bit down hard. You yelped - this was a new move from him. He obviously felt emboldened by the new setting, being in his own territory and out of a car.

Jess went to your right nipple, sucking and making the most obscene slurping noise and his hand went to your other tit. It was too much. It felt too good. You started playing with your clit with even more until he finally noticed.

“That’s my job Y/N. Its not like you to be so selfish!“ he scolded. He grabbed both your wrists and pressed himself into you, letting you feel his bulge. You whimpered at the loss of your fingers inside your wet cunt and pouted at him. He brought your fingers to your mouth.

“Suck” he said, with a devious glint in his eyes. Like a fucking wet wipe, you did as he said. You were embarrassed at first, but didn’t care. You would do anything he said at this point.

When he was satisfied you had fully cleaned your fingers, he took them out your mouth and kissed you hard and hungrily on the lips.

You saw you opportunity to the turn the tables, to take power. “Jess?” You asked innocently.

“Hmm?” He responded, trailing kisses down your neck.

“The whole point of tonight is that we have a bed for once. Let’s make the most of it.” You pushed him off you and took his hand. You walked past the door to his bedroom. He stopped you and looked at you confused.

“Oh Jess. I don’t wanna be fucked in your single bed. I want to feel all of you” you whispered in his ear, guiding him to Luke’s room and king-sized bed.

His eyes widened with realisation and need. Was this a bad idea? Almost certainly. Did he care? At this point, not even wild horses could stop him from having you. He would do anything you said. And he had to admit, there was something hot about doing it somewhere he shouldn’t.

You pushed Jess onto Luke’s bed, unzipped his jeans and pulled down his boxers. His cock sprung up immediately. It was red, throbbing and angry. You couldn’t help but drool. Jess saw this and smirked. He knew what he did to you. He pulled off his shirt, knowing it would drive you crazy.

You dived onto his cock, unable to wait any longer. You took all of him in his mouth, as he held your head there. His pubic hair tickled your nose. You stayed there for as long as possible, until your eyes watered. You took your head off, wiped your mouth, and then began bobbing up and down slowly.

Jess propped himself up on his elbows, watching you like a hawk. His tongue was sticking out as he concentrated his breathing to stop himself from blowing his load. His dark curls were pressed wet against his forehead as beads of sweat started to roll down his face.

You moved to his balls, gently sucking them into your mouth while your hand moved up and down on his rock hard member. He started moaning and rocked his hips into your hands, desperate for more.

You had him right where you wanted him. You removed yourself from him completely and clambered to sit on top of him. His cock was nestled in your folds. So close to where he wanted to be. So close to where you wanted him to be. But you decided the chase was more fun. You lowered yourself down, so that your tits were pressed against his chest.

You whispered “Can Rory make you feel this way, Jess? Does she drive you wild like I do? Can she make you moan like a bitch the way I can? Has she ever made your cock this hard?” You punctuated each sentence with a nip on his ear.

“Fuck you,” he replied, grabbing your ass and turning you onto your back so that he was on top. He pushed himself into you and started fucking you with no mercy.

Your tits were bouncing with every thrust and you were whimpering with need every time he pulled out. You snaked your arms around his back, pulling him deeper into you. You didn’t want any space between you.

“You’re such a whore Y/N. Fucking your best friend’s boyfriend. I can’t believe it turns you on so much.”

You moaned at this words, unable to deny the appeal of the whole situation.

“Fuck baby, I can feel your cunt clenching around me as i say that! You are a fucking whore Y/N, squeezing me with your greedy pussy. Such a bad fucking girl.” Jess yelps, spanking your ass.

“I am a whore Jessy, your whore, only for you” you cried, embarrassed by your pathetic display. He grinned as you used the nickname you only brought out for him when you were cock drunk beyond belief. You groaned inwardly as you couldn’t believe you had given him the satisfaction of that ego boost.

You were lost completely in Jess. He moved his hand down to your core, adding a finger into your weeping pussy, and using his thumb to toy with your clit. It was bliss.

“Jessy?” You called out.

“Hmm?” He groaned in response.

“I want you to cum inside me” you begged.

His eyes widened as a wild look came over him. Without missing a beat, he swung your legs over his shoulders and bent you in two as he fucked into you harder than before. His hand moved to your throat, gently choking you. You stuck your tongue out like a dog in heat - animalistic and beyond a care as to what was normal.

The bed’s headboard was hitting the wall with every thrust from Jess’ pelvis, sure to cause a suspect dent tomorrow. But neither of you could have given a single fuck as the you both chased your highs. The sound of skin slapping, moans and gasps were obscene.

“Jess, have you seen Luke’s toolbox? We need it and he said it might be - Oh my god!”

You both froze and turned to the door. Lorelai was face to face with you and Jess butt naked on Luke’s bed. Sorry - lets rephrase that. Lorelai walked in on her daughter’s boyfriend and best friend fucking raw on Luke’s bed.

She narrowed her eyes and hissed: “Get the fuck out.”

[myfictionaldreams]

Don’t Fall Asleep // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: It was supposed to be a normal day, but not in fate's eyes as you and Sam are hit by a drunk driver. How will Steve and Bucky react when they hear their girls been hurt?

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst (LOTS), Fluff, car crash, blood and injury, crying, anxiety, hurt/comfort, recovery, domestic bliss, teasing, praise kink, daddy kink, fingering, multiple orgasms, nipple play

Words: 5.1k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link 

Life is precious, something that many take for granted. On occasions, phrases such as ‘live life to the fullest or ‘you could die tomorrow, take the opportunities as they come’ are often quoted but then disregarded. Every person who is living, has ever lived and will ever live; will experience the positives to living, the happiness that swells in their chest but then the balance to this, that makes living so tumultuous was the sadness and darkness that could destroy lives in a blink of an eye.

You, for one, were thankful for all of the time that you’d been able to share with Steve and Bucky. They’d changed your life to an unimaginable level, having never experienced true love, protection and simplicity until being in their areas. But of course, happiness can only last for so long, too many opportunities for near misses within the mafia that your luck was bound to run out at some point.

The real kick in the teeth was that this darkened day in your life was even centred around the gang and its criminal activities. In fact, it had been a rather plain day for you, starting the same as any other, Steve and Bucky attending the office to make sure everything was running smoothly and you’d planned to run some errands with Sam Wilson, your friend and bodyguard.

So far, you’d been food shopping, collected a couple of parcels and now were on your way to the art shop to pick up a few supplies for Steve who liked to draw in his spare time.

Sam was driving the two of you, rolling his eyes playfully as you flicked through the radio channels, not finding any satisfaction with what was being played and being too lazy to connect your phone to the bluetooth.

“Oh, I love that song!” Sam gasped, brushing your hand out of the way and switching to the channel you’d just casually skipped past. You laughed at his excitement, happy to also listen to the song if it made Sam happy which by his exaggerated singing, he was definitely enjoying it.

The roads around you weren’t excessively busy, thankfully the football was on so the majority of people were inside a bar and watching that. It was just a perfectly mundane, normal day but life always liked to test your limits when you least expected it.

The initial impact was something you wouldn’t ever remember, as a drunk driver smashed into your side of the car, causing it to flip several times before landing upside down. You’d been knocked out for a couple of minutes, only just waking up as Sam’s urgent shouts made it through the buzzing in your ears, your entire body felt lifeless and drained as he was able to undo your buckle and pull you a safe distance away. The drunk driver who had crashed into you had died on impact.

It was as the sirens blared in the distance, did you begin to feel the wetness and warmth starting from your head and moving down various parts of your body but you were completely dazed to understand that you’d sustained a head injury, your right wrist and leg broken and pointing in the wrong angles and a multitude of cuts and gashes covering your exposed skin due to the glass.

Sam was holding a section of his ripped shirt against the area of your head that was thumping along with your racing heartbeat, and in his other hand, he held his phone plastered to his ear. You couldn’t tell who he was on the phone too, but the desperation in his eyes, as he looked down at you, it wasn’t good. As you had taken the direct hit of the car and Sam was on the other side, he had the pain and aches from the whiplash, a deep gash through his eyebrow that was steadily leaking blood and then a scattering of cuts from the glass, otherwise was mostly unscathed.

“That’s it, sweetheart, keep looking at me, the medics aren’t far away”, Sam’s voice sounded as if he was underwater, completely drowned out by the high-pitched, excessive buzzing that still consumed your consciousness. “Yeah, she’s awake-” Sam continued on the phone, unbeknown to you, to your boyfriends who were already in the car and driving to the area.

Oh course, he had already called the medics, as well as a couple of people from the growing crowd around the accident and soon after called his bosses, Steve and Bucky who sounded like they were both going to throw up and kill someone at the same time.

“Sam?” you managed to ask, not for anything in particular, in all honesty, you were just trying to reach for some kind of comfort and seeing him above you as just that.

“It’s ok, the boys are nearly here, you’re doing so well, just keep your eyes on me, please sweetheart, NO- don’t close your eyes”, Sam tried to keep you awake, dropping his phone onto the pavement below to give you his fullest attention but you were already unconscious again.

The next time you’re awake again, the paramedics had arrived and neck support had been attached to keep you stationary. “Hey y/n, can you hear us? Can you squeeze my finger for me?”, the closest medic was asking but you didn’t respond, mostly still out of it, dazed and confused.

Then across the commotion, the deafening screech of ties breaking across the tarmac was heard and the frantic shouts of your name as Steve and Bucky had arrived. This was something you would never remember, your eyes closed before they even reached you and it was probably for the best that you couldn’t remember it, possibly only adding more trauma to the situation.

Sam stepped back and watched the scene unfold before him, giving both of your boyfriend's room to be next to you as the medics continued to look after you. The bodyguard wiped a hand over his face, ignoring the painful injuries as tears welled in his eyes at seeing his bosses and also life-long friends completely break down.

They seemed lost between wanting to still be possessive, demanding to know everything that the medics were doing, and then the heartbreak of seeing you so injured and unresponsive, they didn’t know whether to shout or cry. At one point Bucky had to step away to vomit, it was complete chaos.

It took a couple of days for you to be fully conscious again and even this wasn’t a relief, even though it was something that Steve and Bucky had begged to anyone that would listen to occur. The confusion of the accident was still evident, unsure of where you were, why you couldn’t move properly, and why there were so many things attached to your body. You became quickly hysteric, ignoring the pleas from Steve and Bucky to try and calm down but your response was enough that the doctors deemed it appropriate to try and sedate you back into a peaceful sleep.

This was definitely for the best as you weren’t able to comprehend the state of which your boyfriends were even in, something that definitely would have upset you further. They both hadn’t changed their clothes the entire time, malnourished of food and drink as they obsessively sat next to your bed, day and night, unshaven, the whites of their eyes red from lack of sleep and crying. Both would take it in turns to go to the toilet before coming so you always had someone next to your bed, it was obsessive and no matter how many times the Doctors tried to escort the men to get some real sleep, they would simply shoot daggers at the professionals with their eyes before being left to it.

 Thankfully after every scan and test that was done, it was determined that there would be no lasting damage, the wound on your temple was sutured with dissolvable stitches and your wrist and arm were placed into casts, with physiotherapy planned in the future and of course, your body was deeply bruised along with whiplash strain. Now, they just needed you to wake up to assess the memory loss and if there was any other damage from the impact to your brain.

They were lucky that the gang were able to continue as usual with the remaining members who had all been ordered to not disturb you all, no distractions necessary. Natasha was the only person to have the courage to visit and thankfully didn’t back down from the fight as she gave both of her bosses a stern talking too.

“When she wakes up, which SHE WILL, do you think she’d want to see you both looking like this? She’s injured and will be for some time, she shouldn’t be waking up with you both in this state, it’s probably make her more distressed. You need to get your shit together, go and shower, shave, eat a proper meal, and put on some new clothes so that when she wakes up, she has some stability and you’re actually prepared to look after her rather than moping around feeling sorry for yourselves!”.

In any other situation, Steve and Bucky would have been ready for a fight but Natasha’s brutal honesty was what they needed to hear, not as their employee but as their friend so they did exactly that.

Another 24 hours passed and you were finally beginning to stir, eyes fluttering open and head turning in the direction of the welcoming voices of your boyfriends and for the first time in days, they saw a hint of a smile on your beautiful face. You had no recognition of the last few days or anything from the accident but after a few further tests, they were happy to discharge you home to rest which you needed as it was complete agony to try and move with the ache in your muscles.

The two men didn’t seem to want to let go of you the entire time, if they were holding your hand, they were rubbing small circles against your uninjured leg, or stroking their thumb against your cheek, it was almost as if they were scared that once they let go of you, something bad would happen.

This only aided with the fact that you couldn’t walk was just another excuse for Steve and Bucky to carry you everywhere which was difficult at first with the discomfort in your body but it was better than any other option and it meant that you could properly embrace them, even for those short moments.

Then at long last, you were home, and you couldn’t deny crying happy tears as you saw the decorations that had been left in surprise by the Rogers gang, banners reading “welcome home!” and balloons covering nearly every surface of the living room. Everything was perfect, even the natural smell of your home was enough to have you crumbling into a mess.

It was hard to try and get accustomed to living at home after surviving such a traumatic experience, the physical and emotional toll was something no one could have prepared you for. As the three of you settled into your bed that evening, you had to find the right way to lie with the casts on your limbs still making it difficult to move and the ache still throbbing throughout your neck and spine, it wasn’t particularly comfortable. But finally, with you lying in the middle, your leg propped up on a couple of pillows, Steve to your right and Bucky to your left, you began to comprehend everything that had happened.

You sobbed harder than you thought possible, even becoming breathless as you verged on hyperventilating at thinking about your life nearly ending. Steve and Bucky tried to soothe you but their own emotional trauma came to a head as they too revealed their devastation at nearly losing you, both men crying as you all held one another.

But as the saying goes: ‘time heals all wounds’.

It wasn’t easy, not that you’d expected it to but as each day passed and your body ached less and less and the scratches began to heal, it lessened the pain in your heart. There would always be struggles but they were made easier with your devoted boyfriends.

With the broken wrist, it was difficult to cut your food and eat so Steve and Bucky insisted on feeding you, even if you could use your one hand to lift a fork to your mouth, they were going to make sure you rested in any way, smiling as they fed you every bite of every year. The worst change was going to the toilet, the boys offering to wipe but this was one step too far, you could do that but it was getting up again off of the toilet or waking them in the middle of the night that had your cheeks burning with embarrassment but they were more than happy to help you

“I’m here to look after you, no matter what it is that you’d like, I WANT to do it Doll. Ii know you want some dependency but this isn’t forever, it’s just for now so please let me look after you”, Bucky sweetly said after you frustratedly dropped your shirt to the floor, having been struggling to put it on for a while.

After a week of being home, Sam finally came to visit and once again you found yourself crying as he dropped to the couch and you both held onto each other. He’d been given some much-needed time off to recover and had been visiting his sister and nephews but now, he wanted to come and visit, really see that you were healing.

Finally gathering your emotions, you pulled back and wiped your face of tears, a genuine smile replacing your sad features as you saw the scratches over his face had most healed, only leaving the healing cut over his eyebrow.

“Everyone is going to love this new rugged look”, you commented, glancing at his injury. “The ladies will come running with the bad boy look”.

“Ah I know, who could deny such a handsome face, it’s a curse believe me”, he joked back, relief also settling over his body at hearing you relaxing. “Even better now we’re matching, bet we look like a right pair of hooligans”, he joked, looking up at the plaster still attached to your head covering the healing stitches.

“I think it just adds character”, you grinned back at him before your smile slowly faded as your tone became more serious. “Sam… I can’t even begin to thank you for looking after me”.

Sam’s eyes dropped to look into his lap, losing the strength to hide his emotions, “I didn’t do much-”.

“Yes, you did! You pulled me out of the vehicle and looked after me before the medics arrived, but it’s not just during this accident, you’ve always looked after me. I’m so grateful to have you in my life and I’m so glad you’re ok”.

Sam’s eyes twinkled as he looked up, his throat bobbing as he couldn’t muster up the words to talk, instead just pulling you into a hug that conveyed more emotions than words could have. Steve and Bucky also pulled Sam into crushing hugs, “Thank you for looking after our girl”, whispered between friends.

“Please go and put your feet up Sam, you deserve the time off!” you shouted after Sam as he moved towards the exit.

“I’ll try my best Boss Lady, you rest up too”, he replied with his beaming smile returning to his handsome face.

Another day passes as you sat at the edge of your bed with Bucky on his knees between your legs, his expression stern and unblinking as he concentrated on his job at hand.

“How does it look, is it horrible? Is it long? Do I look ugly?” you asked, looking up at his face as he leaned in closer to your face, his fingers gently easing the plaster away from your face as he inspected the stitches on your head.

“You could never be beautiful”, he mumbled under his breath, easing the last corner of your plaster off and then sitting back to assess the sight before him. Bucky’s face dropped causing your heartbeat to increase frantically in your chest.

“What? Is it bad? Bucky what is it?!” you asked desperately. Racing across the bed, you tried to pick up the hand mirror to have a look yourself but Bucky snatched it up before you could grab it, holding it at arm's length so that you couldn’t reach it.

“I’m not sure that you’ll want to see this Doll”, his voice was low and thick with concern.

“Oh my god Bucky please tell me, has it healed wrong?” You were really beginning to panic now, about to call for Steve to come and help when Bucky’s hard exterior broke and a taunting grin spread across his face making his eyes crinkle in the corners.

“You look just as beautiful mama”, he affectionately whispered, kissing your cheek and handing the mirror to you to show that the injury was nearly completely healed, only a different toned colour lay on your forehead, the stitches mostly invisible.

You rolled your eyes dramatically realising that he had been teasing you, “That wasn’t nice Barnes”.

“Ah, but you love me”, he mocked, lips brushing against yours softly, only enough to feel the slightest pressure of his soft lips.

“Yes I do”, you gave in instantly, using your uninjured hand to cup his jaw tenderly, stroking against his slightly stubbled skin, holding him there to kiss more deeply.

Before anything became too heated, Bucky was pulling back, pecking the tip of your nose before helping you into his arms to carry down for some dinner.

This was how it had been since returning from the hospital. It wasn’t that you were rushing to be intimate with them but they were both so adamant about your healing that there had been a very strict: no-touching rule. At first, when it even hurt to move you were more than happy to comply with the instruction but as your mobility improved and their kisses began to linger for longer or hands would wash over your body with more intent than to clean your skin, it was becoming more difficult to resist the urges that you were experiencing.

Downstairs, Steve was preparing a stew for you all, chopping the vegetables on the counter and smiling over his shoulder as he saw you and Bucky approaching. As Bucky placed you at the dinner table that was in the sizeable kitchen, Steve wiped his hand on the kitchen towel and sauntered over, leaning his arms on either side of your chair, his eyes level with your revealed head injury.

“It’s looking good isn’t it?” Bucky commented as he took over Steve’s job of chopping up the vegetables.

“It does, and it’ll keep looking better with each day, the Doctor did a good job of fixing up my baby”, Steve responded, his finger under your chin to tilt your head back so he could leave a searing kiss against your mouth. Your body leaned into a kiss and then he was moving away far too prematurely, leaving you wanting more but you didn’t verbalise this, not having the heart to complain after they’d been looking after you so much.

“Could I… Could I help in some way please?” you asked, looking hopefully between Steve and Bucky as they continued with prepping dinner. The two glanced at each other before Steve walked over with a chopping board, knife and carrot that had already been peeled. “Thank you!” you beamed up at him, happy that even though there were so many things that they were willing to help you with, they did try and give you some independence.

Not that it was easy to try and chop up a carrot with one hand still in a solid cast so after far too many attempts at sawing into the carrot, you decided instead to slam the knife down in sharp chops, leaving the carrot in three large chunks.

“Um… done!” you nervously announced to the boys.

Steve returned to pick up the chopping board, “good job, baby”, he praised, kissed the top of your head and you grinned as he placed the carrots in with the rest of the mixture, even though it was extremely obvious which carrot you had chopped compared to Bucky’s thinly sliced carrots. You loved the way they handled you, there was no hint of condescension from either of them when you tried to help and it was all to help you get back into a routine of normality.

Even if they did still continue to feed you which you secretly enjoyed now as it meant you get to sit in either of their laps and feel close to them.

That evening, you asked if you could have a bath which they were happy to help you into, Bucky was in charge of keeping your arm and leg outside of the tub to not get the cast wet and wrapping them both in cling film took entirely too long. Whereas Steve was in charge of washing your body with a sponge slathered in shower gel, another insistence from them both, even though you were more than capable of washing your body with your other hand.

You couldn’t wait for these damn casts to be off, “I can’t wait to have a shower”, you vocalised to them both, watching as Steve washed across your shoulders from where he sat on the edge of the bathtub.

“Hmm. I am going to miss this though”, Steve observed, not hiding that he loved being able to look after you. Closing your eyes, you enjoyed the little pamper session but as the sponge grazed over your perked nippled, you couldn’t help but lean into the touch, a moan forming in the back of your throat.

Steve’s chuckle had you looking up at him through half-lidded eyes as he asked, “Did you like that, baby girl?”

“Yes”, you admitted, watching as he did it again, paying particular attention to the very peaks of your nipples and then rubbing over the rest of your breasts in circular movements.

There was nothing you wanted more than to feel their bodies pressed against yours but with your limited use and weakness throughout your entire body, even with your good hand, you knew you’d tire quickly and not be able to satisfy them so you still refrained from asking them to fully pleasure you.

“You’re so beautiful, Mama”, Bucky watched with dark eyes, licking his lips almost hungrily and you whined at the sight, back arching more into Steve’s movements.

As the sponge moved over your body, through the water that lapped against the edges of the porcelain tub, you noticed the way that Steve was pressing more firmly on certain areas, especially in between your legs that had you grinding to feel more.

But like all of the other times, he never made a move to go any further and you were feeling more sexually frustrated than you had before, even after they both helped to dry you with a towel, in between your legs remained damp as your juices still trickled out.

Bucky carried you to the bed, placing you in the middle, the same as every night and you were completely naked, something that you had quickly decided was the comfiest, it always takes far too long to put on your pyjamas when Steve and Bucky always wrapped around you and kept you warm.

As you settled into the bed, leg again propped up on multiple pillows, you waited patiently for the boys to both join you as they cleaned the bathroom. However today, it was taking far too long and if you concentrated hard enough, you could hear them both talking quietly to one another.

As you opened your mouth to ask what was taking them so long, they joined back in the bedroom, removing their clothes, save for their boxers, switched the lights off and clambered into bed. As their overtly warm skin smoothed against yours, your questions slipped into the back of your mind, finding their comfort already distracting.

With a kiss on each of your cheeks, you closed your eyes to try and go to sleep and ignore the agonising ache in your core. But it seemed Bucky had other ideas as his hand rested on your abdomen, over your belly button, his thumb stroking the skin in slow circles as his hand dripped lower and lower.

You didn’t stop him, chest rising and falling with increasing speed as his fingers teased over your mound, the lowest that they’d been since between the accident. Your breath caught in your throat, screaming in your mind for him to keep going, to dip that little bit lower.

Steve’s hand cupped your jaw, the touch distracting you from the one teasing to push between your legs as he forced your head to turn in the direction of where he lay. Opening your eyes, even in the dark you could see his intense stare, as he began to speak, his minty breath coated your face, “Do you want us to keep touching you, baby?”

“Yes”, you sounded more desperate than you’d hoped to, his question feeling like some sort of light in the darkness, now realising this must have been what they had spoken about in the bathroom.

“You sure you’re feeling up to it?”, he continued to ask, his fingers moving over your jaw and down your throat, grazing over your collarbone and still lower until hovering over your left nipple.

“Yes, fuck yes”, you groaned, arching up to feel his hand but he kept it far enough away that you didn’t get the touch you wanted.

“If you get too tired and overwhelmed, will you tell us?”

“I promise!”, you pleaded, moving your unbroken leg to the side slightly, giving Bucky more room. “But…But I also want to touch you, I want you both to feel good!”

It was Bucky who spoke next, his mouth moving to graze the shell of your ear as he tutted, “Not tonight Doll, let us make you feel good, wanna hear your sweet moans, you deserve this, you’ve done so well”.

You were moaning before his fingers even slipped lower but as the tip of his middle finger grazed between your folds and touched against your throbbing clit, your whole body seemed to come alight.

Steve's fingers then lowered as well, in time with Bucky, pressing against your nipples and he groaned at just how hard they were, gently pinching and tweaking them before grasping the entire breast and massaging the tissue.

“You’re so wet for me Honey, is this what you wanted? Did you want us to touch you here?” Bucky teased before nipping the lobe of your ear.

“Wanted it so bad!”, you gasped as Bucky moved lower, finding your hole and circling it a few times, feeling just how soaked for him that you were before pushing in a single digit, not stopping until it was all the way in. “Bucky!”

Your walls fluttered around him, having not been penetrated for what felt like so long now and he was careful to start slow, really building up the pressure which matched with Steve’s hands on your chest, was already driving you insane with arousal.

In and out his finger slowly moved, his thumb skillfully brushing over your clit to match his pace. Then he was adding another finger and your leg widened further, thighs shaking slightly as you had to refrain from reaching out for them both, knowing that you’d end up knocking your broken wrist so kept them at your sides.

“That feels so good Bucky,” you praised, turning your head towards him.

“Yeah? Want me to make you cum, Mama?” he asked, his lips now hovering over yours.

“Yes, please!”.

As his lips met yours, hastily moving against each other, Bucky’s fingers began to curl and his thumb applied more pressure. Every nerve in your body seemed to come alive as they were being pleasured and you were experiencing the ultimate thrill. Your core was tightening with each tug against your g-spot, chest rising and falling harshly into Steve’s grasp as he moved between each breast, each sending sparks straight to your cunt.

You were a wet, babbling mess when the overwhelming sensation to cum took over, not even having time to tell your boyfriends but they already knew you were close and began touching you with more urgency.

Your pussy began clenching in quick succession as your orgasm destroyed you, pulling away from Bucky so you had space to scream out his name, hips bucking widely at the touch until it became too sensitive.

Bucky eased his wet fingers out of you, bringing them up to his lips and humming at your exquisite taste that he’d been desperate to taste for so long.

Steve gave you another moment to gather yourself before his fingers began to fill you up, replacing where Bucky was, two fingers rocking in and out as his thumb rolled your clit in a circle. Bucky’s metal fingers then teased your pebbled nipples, the cool feeling making you gasp more.

“Let’s see just how many more we can get from you, baby” Steve growled into your neck, sucking the sensitive skin.

“Yes, Daddy”, you moaned whilst lost in your ecstasy.

Steve and Bucky worked well together, knowing exactly when to slow down their movements, letting you get used to the sensations before ramping up the speed and pressures, bringing you to the peak of orgasm before starting again. They took it in turns until your breasts were sore and puffy and your hole ached and your juices soaked the sheets below.

You were a mumbling mess when they determined that you had enough, your entire body feeling like it was floating and light as Steve licked his fingers clean one more time before tucking you in close to his side.

“You feeling ok, Doll?” Bucky asked, sliding in close as well, his arm wrapping around your middle.

“Mmm so so good”, you muttered, eyes drooping close with exhaustion. “I can’t wait to take these casts off so I can repay the favour”.

Steve’s checked vibrated against your ear as he chuckled, kissing the top of your head, “Get some rest, my love”.