#god I've missed using that tag :p

[carlyraejepsans]

as a sans is from Deltarune truther what do you think about the. implications of papyrus remembering green grass pre snowdin times

well, my engines are whirring and roaring like a sports car in the hands of a cucked mid-life crisis ridden 50 year old, as you might imagine. I've heard some folks interpret it as him referring to the patch of grass from the papyrus' cool song kickstarter promo, but he explicitly mentions that song earlier in the q&a and sans doesn't cut him off to prevent him from answering the question like he does in the final one. so yeah. I think that green grass is not UT native grass, HAHAHA.

i think the q&a pretty much seals it for me that wherever they came from, sans and papyrus came from there together (how else would sans be able to finish the question for him) which. WOOH. weight off of my chest, honestly. i was getting worried, what with the possibility of them being biologically different and papyrus not being included in sans' lore/character arc about moving on.

... actually, that is another matter that the q&a has opened up.

answering "what was your life before you moved" with "there was green grass" is... a weird choice of words. of course, the obvious doylistic explanation for it is that toby wanted to drop a hint without spoiling anything more, and the result sounded a bit clunky in its execution. but if there IS a watsonian, in-universe explanation for that weirdness, i wonder if he might be struggling to remember his past? because sans is obviously still homesick and misses his old friends, he tried to go back for a very long time (boy did he try) before giving up, and he has grieved his old life for a WHILE. papyrus doesn't really have anything similar in his character arc. he's lonely, yes, but he doesn't really miss anyone. and those few times when he does hint to the past, it's always related to sans. specifically, I'm thinking of the winter alarm clock where he literally can't remember the last time sans got to celebrate the holidays with a lot of friends (friends we know for a fact he had, and that he misses. a lot.)

sooo...... question mark??? it could be that papyrus doesn't remember something of their past that sans does, or it could be just a weird choice of words on Toby's end. I'm especially intrigued by sans shutting the question down. i wonder what his deal is.

[bossbtch1]

Forbidden Reunion

Summary : You managed to escape from Loki after discovering his lies. Aware that both he and the TVA would be searching for you, you prayed they wouldn't succeed. However, now Loki stood in front of you and he had no intentions of letting you go.

Pairing : Loki Laufeyson x f!Reader

General tags : SMUT, 18+, Dark Fic, Obsessive, Yandere

Trigger Warnings: Strong Language, Violence, Stalking, Non-con, Dubious Consent, Forced Blowjob, Forced Orgasm, Fingering, P in V, Unprotected Sex, Breeding, Overstimulation (let me know if I missed any lol)

Word Count: 10k

A/N : Sorry it took me too long to post this, juggling this alongside my other story took some time. But as promised, I'm releasing this one first.

Before you continue, please read TW again. This is a dark!fic and explicit, strictly for readers 18+. Please, DO NOT PROCEED if these themes disturb you. I've warned you, this fic isn't for the faint-hearted.

This took in Loki season 2 based on that shadow play.

If you like my story, please go check out my other stories here

Exhausted from years of evading both Loki and the TVA. Tonight, you found yourself in a bar, a moment to escape the chaos for years and hoping for a chance encounter. Despite your past with Loki, you were eager to move forward and explore new relationships, you have your own needs, and the more time went on, you knew they could not be sated by yourself anymore.

You could use your power to manipulate them into sleeping with you, but you knew it was wrong, you were sure there was a natural progression you just needed to be patient, and maybe your powers were going to waste being used to keep you hidden from the TVA.

Your mind drifted back to Loki, the god of Mischief and how he lied to you, manipulated you.

Flashback

"I'm sorry to say this, but you have been deceived by him," the TVA agent asserted. You turned your back on her as you attempted to escape, your eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of Loki. You had become separated during the chaotic chase within the TVA headquarters.

"No, I'm not. Loki wouldn't lie to me," you defended him, your voice laced with unwavering belief.

"Is he? Tell me, what did he say to you, the reason he got caught?" the agent probed, her tone challenging.

"He tried to rule Earth and failed," you replied, recalling the events that had led to his capture.

She seemed surprised that you knew. "Yes, and whose fault was that?" she pressed further.

“Yes, I know it was his.” You admitted, frustration seeping into your words, “But it stemmed from his deep-seated need for approval and love, especially from a father who resented him for being adopted." Despite the firmness in your tone, a flicker of doubt shadowed your eyes, making you question whether you were convincing the agent or merely grappling with your own uncertainties.

"Is that the whole story? Or just a part he wants you to believe?" Her words hung heavy in the air.

"He's the trickster god, the silvertongue," she continued, her voice steady, unwavering. "Manipulation is in his nature. Don't fall for his lies."

"Hello? Hey?" You heard a voice bringing you back from your daydream. "Can I buy you a drink?"

You looked up, it was a handsome man who had sat down beside you. You smiled, not wanting to appear rude. "Yes, please," you said.

He smiled, "I'm Mark."

"Y/N," you said.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," he smiled.

You returned his smile. You enjoyed his company as you chatted and laughed, his eyes sparkled as he listened to you talk, you knew you were making him blush when you teased him, he was sweet, and you knew he liked you.

Conversation flowed easily between you two. You couldn't remember the last time you felt so at ease with a stranger, the feeling was new and exciting. He seemed so genuinely interested in what you had to say and you felt as if he actually understood what was going on in your life.

"Do you want to come to my place? I've got a bottle of whiskey that needs drinking," he smiled.

"Sure, why not?" you said, downing the rest of your drink. This was your chance to get what you've been craving, and what better way to start than with a handsome man inviting you to his place?

Then someone spilled his drink onto Mark, ruining his white shirt.

"What the hell? Are you kidding me?!" he yelled at the man. "Watch where you're going, asshole." He shouted in frustration.

"Oh, I am so sorry, man, I tripped," the other man said, his voice calmed.

You recognize the voice.

It was Mobius.

Your heart raced, and you couldn't believe that he had managed to track you down. Paralyzed with fear, you sat there, feeling the color drain from your face as you stared at him in disbelief. If Mobius was here then that meant that Loki wasn't far behind.

Mark was fuming, he stormed off to the bathroom, leaving you alone, and you wanted desperately to call out, to warn him not to leave you by yourself, but fear kept your words trapped in your throat.

"Hello, Y/N."

Your name was like poison on his lips.

"Loki," you hissed back, turning around to face him.

He looked exactly the same as the last time you'd seen him, his black hair was neatly styled, his green eyes were piercing, and his face was pale. His expression was serious, his jaw set and his eyes cold, he looked so different from the Loki you had known and fallen in love with.

"What the fuck are you two doing here?" Your heart pounded in your chest, your palms sweaty with anxiety, and you were suddenly very aware of how alone you were in the bar.

"I missed you, pet. I have been worried," his tone was mocking and his smirk didn't reach his eyes.

"Don't lie, Loki," you shot back, glaring at him.

"You know, you've always been so difficult."

"And you're an asshole."

Loki didn't say anything, instead he reached for your wrist and held it tight. "Let me go! You fucking liar, I trusted you, I loved you, and you betrayed me," you shouted, struggling against his grip.

"Little one, don't make a scene." he growled in your ear.

Your eyes pleaded with Mobius, who stood caught between the two of you. "Are you just going to stand there and let this happen?" you implored, your voice cracking with desperation.

Mobius sighed, a mixture of resignation and sadness in his eyes. "I'll leave you be for now then," he said, his tone heavy with regret. "I'll see you later." With that, he turned away, leaving you to face Loki's wrath alone.

"How about I give you a choice," he said, a sinister glint in his eyes. "Either you can come home willingly, or I can use my magic to knock you out and bring you home. Which do you prefer?" The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, leaving you trapped in a lose-lose situation.

"I'm not going anywhere with you, Loki!" you hissed, your voice laced with defiance as you struggled against his grip. Every fiber of your being screamed resistance, but you knew the sheer force of his magic could easily overpower you.

"Very well then," he purred, his lips twisted into a sadistic smile as he waived his hand, ready to use his magic.

"Wait!" You blurted, holding up your hands to stop him, your voice trembled as the weight of your decision bore down upon you.

"Yes, little one?" he asked, his tone condescending and smug.

"I'll come willingly," you said, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. It was a lie, a desperate attempt to buy some time.

"But can I go to the bathroom first?" You clung to the hope that a brief moment alone might offer a chance, your mind racing for an escape plan.

"Alright," Loki agreed, his tone oddly accommodating. "Go on, pet." He nodded towards the restroom.

You hurried into the bathroom and locked the door behind you, your heart pounding in your chest. Your frantic eyes searched for your tempad, only to realize it was gone. "Asshole!" you muttered under your breath, realizing that Loki must have taken it when he grabbed your arm.

You had no escape plan, and Loki was waiting for you. You looked for a way out, but the windows were too small for you to climb through, so you thought it would be best to just run through the door and run far away from the bar.

Gathering your courage, you unlocked the door and burst out, your footsteps echoing in the corridor. Behind you, you could hear Loki's enraged shout, "Y/N!" His voice boomed, fueling your determination to run as far and as fast as you could from the bar.

"Y/N! Y/N!" you could hear him getting closer and closer. His voice cut through the air like a sharp blade. "Y/N, stop now!"

"FUCK OFF!" you screamed, frustration and fear fueling your voice. You cast a desperate glance behind you and saw Loki hot on your heels. "Fuck!" you whispered under your breath.

You could feel the tears burning behind your eyes, the adrenaline coursing through your veins, and the fear of being caught was overwhelming. "Fuck, no! Not again!" you thought.

You were annoyed by the people "Move! Move! Please!" You screamed at the people that were blocking the road, but they wouldn't move.

"Fuck you!" One guy shouted back at you after you pushed him away.

You couldn't run anymore. You were too slow, and he was gaining on you, and you knew that you couldn't escape him. But you need to keep trying, you couldn't give up. You were running, and running, and running.

The pain was too much, your muscles ached, and your lungs burned. Your vision was blurred, and you couldn't focus. You were tired of running and out of breath, you leaned against a wall and rested, hoping Loki wouldn't see you.

However, your respite was short-lived. In a blink, Loki teleported right in front of you, his expression oddly calm. "Pet, we have been searching for you for a long time, you hid well." He said, his tone icy.

"You can't be fucking serious!" you hissed, "Why did you look for me? I left for a reason, you betrayed my trust. You used me, and I hate you."

"Little one, why are you angry at me?"

"Are you really asking that, you lying snake?" Pushing him away, you shouted, and sprinted away from him once more, your determination fueling your escape.

You didn't make it far, though, before you felt a familiar, freezing hand grasp your arm, tugging you backward and pulling you against a cold, solid form.

"I don't appreciate it you calling me that."

You gasped, and tried to pull away from him, but his grip was like steel, and no matter how hard you struggled, you couldn't free yourself from him. "I don't care! Let me go!"

He ignored your pleas, then you pulled out a knife from your pocket. You knew he could've easily taken the knife, but instead he let you go, "You think you can hurt me, little one? How adorable." he cooed, his voice silky smooth.

"I'll fucking kill you!"

He laughed again mocking you, "Do you want to try? Do you think you can stab me with that knife, pet?"

You didn't answer, instead you held the knife up, threatening him, "Loki, you don't want to make me angry." You knew that was stupid of you saying that.

He smirked, he wasn't afraid of you, and he wasn't intimidated by you. "You are so cute when you are mad," he mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm, and his eyes were dark.

"Put the knife down, and we can go home, pet" he offered.

"Fuck you, Loki," you spat, your voice dripping with venom as you stood your ground, the knife still clutched tightly in your hand.

He grinned, "Oh, you will soon enough, pet."  He let out a low chuckle and he snapped his finger and the knife flew from your hand to the wall. You watched in horror, you didn’t have anything else on you to defend yourself from him.

He began to advance toward you, a predator toying with his prey. Panic surged through you, urging you to flee. Yet, no matter how fast you ran, Loki always reappeared before you.

His voice dripped with amusement, "Come on, pet. Do you really think you can outrun me?" His grin widened, relishing the chase as if it were sort of a game to him.

"You won't ever escape me, pet. Even if you manage to get away from me, I will always find you again and again. You will be mine, whether you want to or not." He declared, his tone possessive and chilling. He stood before you, his presence looming over you like a dark cloud.

"I won't stop fighting you," you vowed, your voice filled with defiance, glaring at him as he advanced toward you. Desperation fueled your steps as you ran, but he always caught up to you, teleporting right in front of you, a relentless pursuit that seemed endless.

"You can't run forever, pet," he taunted, his eyes dark and menacing, his voice deep and husky. “Eventually, I’ll catch up to you.”

You were getting tired of running. "Come on, pet. Are we playing a game?" He chuckled, the sound echoing eerily through the empty street. The bastard was enjoying this twisted cat-and-mouse chase.

"Just stop!" you cried out, your frustration boiling over.

"Why would I stop? This is the most fun I've had in years, darling. I enjoy seeing you run, it's quite entertaining."

"Shut up." You tried to run away again, your breaths ragged. "Quit your magic, and fight fair!" Deep down, you knew if you were in a one-on-one combat with him, without his magic, you could win. "If you win, I'll come willingly."

"That's not how this works, little one," he chided, his tone laced with amusement.

You felt the anger boiling inside of you, but you continued to run. Each step echoed in the empty alley as you tried to escape his relentless pursuit. "Leave me alone then!" you shouted, desperation lacing your voice.

To your horror, your movements came to an abrupt stop. Loki stood in front of you, his mischievous grin sending shivers down your spine. Frantically, you turned around, only to find him there again, mocking your attempts to escape. Panic set in as you attempted to flee in the opposite direction, but there he was once more, his presence haunting you like a nightmare.

"What the fuck is going on?" you muttered, disbelief coloring your voice. How was he everywhere? How was he doing this? Your mind raced with questions as you stepped back, trying to distance yourself from the three identical Loki that surrounded you.

Were you tripping, or is there really three of them?

Loki's chuckle reverberated around you, a haunting sound that sent chills down your spine. Frustration boiled within you, and you screamed in exasperation, "How are you doing that?" Your voice wavered, trembling with a mixture of frustration and fear as you desperately demanded answers.

His grin widened as he continued to toy with your sanity. "Oh, come now, surely you know a trick or two, you being a witch and all," he taunted, the words laced with mocking arrogance.

You took slow steps backward as the three Loki remained in front of you, your resolve mingling with confusion and growing fear. "I'm not a witch, you... asshole," you retorted.

Suddenly, you felt his warm breath near your ear, and his voice sent a shiver down your spine. "It's called an illusion, little one," he whispered, the hot air tickling your earlobe. You jolted away from him, only to find another Loki standing in front of you, and you jumped yet again.

Fear gripped you, not of him, but of the overwhelming confusion and frustration that clouded your senses. The relentless onslaught of illusions left you feeling disoriented, unable to discern reality from the intricate tricks he was playing.

"Please stop," you pleaded.

"Stop what?" he asked, feigning innocence, his eyes glinting mischievously.

"Your tricks. I'm not stupid, stop," you demanded, your voice growing firmer despite the fear gripping your heart.

The three Loki slowly closed in on you, each step they took making your heart race faster. You retreated, trying to create distance, but soon your back met the unyielding wall. There was no escape. Your mind raced, your heart pounded, and you breathed heavily, trapped in a nightmare of your own making.

Suddenly, you felt an invisible force restraining your hands, pinning them against the wall. You looked around frantically, searching for the source, but there was no one in sight. Panic clawed at your throat as you realized you were immobilized.

"What the fuck are you doing?! Let me go."

"I don't think I will, my little pet," Loki said, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

Suddenly, Mobius reappeared beside Loki, seemingly out of thin air. "A little over the top, don’t you think, all the shadow play?" he commented, his tone disapproving.

Loki smirked, unrepentant. "I thought it was spot on."

Mobius turned his attention to you, his expression filled with concern. "What are you trying to do to the poor girl?" he asked.

"I'm merely making a point," Loki replied casually, as if discussing the weather and your distress was nothing more than a game.

Mobius shook his head and lightly chuckled, "Oh, I'm sure you are. That's why she looks like a frightened rabbit."

"I'm still here? Hello?” They were casually talking like you were invincible, despite being bound to a wall. Their attention shifted to you, and you erupted, "Mobius, what the hell? Arrest him! What are you doing!" Panic and anger laced your words, but it fell on deaf ears.

"Sorry, sweetheart, I can't do that. I made a deal with Loki," Mobius responded, his tone regretful yet resolute.

You felt a chill run down your spine. "What fucking deal?" You asked, your voice trembling. "What are you going to do with me?"

"I'm not going to do anything. But Loki, on the other hand..." he chuckled darkly. "Well, the deal is, we only need you alive. That's all I'm saying. My lips are sealed," Mobius replied with a cryptic smile.

You didn't have a chance to process his words before the Loki closest to you began circling you, a predatory gleam in his eyes. Your heartbeat wildly, fear coursing through your veins as he trailed his finger along your arm, his touch light and teasing in suspense.

"What the fuck is the matter with you, let me go!" you shrieked, your panic and anger rising. "Mobius you fucking bitch, you are nothing but a- MMM" abruptly, as the shadow silenced you, turning your pleas into incoherent whispers.

Mobius sighed, shaking his head. "Now you're just showing off," he admonished.

"I can't help it, you bring out the worst in me."

Loki stepped in front of you and leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear. "Now, where were we?" he whispered, his voice low and seductive. His fingers trailed along your jaw, his touch feather-light and tantalizing. You were struggling to break free from his hold, but your body remained paralyzed, at his mercy.

Loki, leaning casually against the wall, let out a low, amused chuckle at your futile struggles. "Oh, little one," he purred, his tone mocking and condescending. "There's no use in fighting. You won't be able to break free. Trust me."

"Now, be a good girl and remain still," Loki said, his smile cruel and unsettling as he locked eyes with you, a twisted affection glinting in his gaze.

"Loki, take it easy on her. She's just a young girl, after all." Mobius interjected, his voice laced with a hint of compassion, though his eyes conveyed a different story. "Make sure to control your pet, Loki.” Mobius emphasized before vanishing into thin air.

You screamed was incoherent since your mouth was being covered by the shadow, you tried to say "Help!" and "No" but nothing came out.

Loki grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing your head up to meet his gaze. "Oh, darling. Don't try to speak, or scream, or fight. You can't escape, and no one is going to save you. No one will hear you, the only sound you will make is your moans."

Fear gripped you, the uncertainty of Loki's intentions leaving you paralyzed and vulnerable.

He advanced toward you, his steps deliberate and predatory. "Now," he whispered, his voice dripping with sadistic anticipation, "let the fun begin, pet."

With a snap of his fingers, Loki dispelled the shadow covering your mouth, granting you the ability to speak again. "Get off me, Laufeyson!" you exclaimed, your voice laced with defiance. You strained against your restraints, desperate to escape his grasp. "This is wrong. You're crazy psychopath."

"Oh, pet," he said, a twisted smile playing on his lips. "We've done far worse together."

Frustration and fear gripped you as you struggled against your bindings, pleading, " Why can't you just leave me alone?"

A dark chuckle escaped Loki's lips as he replied, "You know why."

"Please, just let me go." You pleaded, desperation creeping into your voice.

Loki's smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with possessiveness. "I'm afraid I can't do that, love. You belong to me."

"No, I don't! I'm not yours," you protested vehemently. You writhed against the magical restraints, a mixture of anger and fear fueling your struggles. His control over you felt like a violation, and you despised him for it, for using his magic against you in such a cruel manner.

"Oh, pet," Loki purred, his voice dripping with both mockery and desire. "You can fight all you want, but you'll never win, not when it comes to me." He leaned in, his lips grazing your neck in a chilling caress. You whimpered as he sucked on your skin, his teeth scraping lightly.

"Stop. Please," you begged, your voice trembling.

"But why would I stop," he replied, his tone silkier than ever, "when I'm having so much fun?" His words hung in the air, laden with sadistic pleasure.

"I hate you. I will never stop hating you," you spat out, your words laced with a fierce determination, even in the face of your vulnerability.

Loki's lips curled into a sly smile, "You don't truly hate me, little one. You merely pretend to. I see through the façade. I know what lies beneath."

"What the hell are you talking about, Loki?" you shot back.

"Stop being such a brat," he sneered. The shadow binding both your wrists kept you firmly against the wall, his control unyielding. "Do you like being restrained, hmm? Enjoy the feeling of someone else in control, knowing you can't escape, and no one will help you?" His face hovered dangerously close to yours, his breath ghosting over your skin.

“No! Stop that nonsense!” You lied, you were scared, and angry, but you also secretly enjoyed being under his control whether you wanted to admit it or not.

He hummed and kissed your neck and whispered in your ear, his breath tickled your ear and you felt shivers down your spine. “Fuck, how I miss you.” His voice was deep and commanding, sending tingles of pleasure throughout your body.

"Please, stop. Just leave me alone. Don't do this to me, please."

"Oh, little one. You know I can't do that." He said as his hands roamed all over your body, caressing every inch of you, making you feel so vulnerable. You felt the heat rise between your legs and your heart raced faster.

"I can smell your arousal, pet.” He lightly bit your neck. “Your body betrays you. It craves my touch, just as much as you do," he said, his voice laced with a sinister confidence. "You want me, even if you refuse to admit it."

You met his gaze with defiance, attempting to deny the truth he claimed. "You're delusional," you retorted, your words aimed at rejecting his manipulative influence.

"Am I?" Loki's eyes bore into yours, a predatory glint flickering in their depths. "Your heart, your mind, your body—they all long for me, even if you deny it. You can't escape this, no matter how hard you try. I will always find you, even if I have to tear the universe apart to get you back."

Loki was right. Your body was betraying you. The wetness was getting more intense by the minute, you could feel the pleasure building up, but you couldn't let yourself fall into temptation, he had hurt you, lied to you, manipulated you, used you, and now he was going to take you against your will.

You had to fight him.

You had to escape him.

You couldn't let him take you.

Not like this.

But you wanted more, and you knew that Loki would give you everything you wanted and more. You could feel the pleasure building up. You moaned softly as his hands roamed over your breasts. You felt a rush of anger, "What are you doing? You're using your magic to seduce me, aren't you?"

He met your accusation with a knowing grin. "I don't need magic to seduce you.” He countered, “Your body responds to me naturally, so beautifully. It's like a drug, and once I've had a taste, I'm hooked. I can't get enough of you."

You felt his lips on your neck. His kisses were soft and tender. You gasped as his tongue licked your neck, trailing down your collarbone. You couldn't stop the moan that escaped your lips as his fingers pinched your nipple.

You felt he smirked and you tried not to moan, biting your lip, trying not to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was affecting you. But he could read your mind, and he could hear your thoughts, and he knew what you were feeling. He was inside your head.

"Just stop."

"Not until I'm finished with you. Not until you're begging for more. Begging for my cock inside of you. Begging for me." He slammed your back against the wall, and you yelped as you hit it hard.

He had you caged, and your legs were starting to tremble. You didn't know if it was from the force or the intensity of his words. You tried to push him away but he was stronger than you. His body was pressed against yours. He then kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth. You couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but feel his body against yours.

He was a good kisser, and he knew what he was doing. You were moaning into the kiss, and you were fighting to keep control. Then you felt his cock growing hard. You gasped and that was when you realized what was going on. In a desperate act of defiance, you bit down hard, drawing blood. You tasted it.

He pulled back momentarily caught off guard. He looked like a maniac, and you had to remind yourself not to be afraid of him. His lips curled into a sinister grin as he wiped the blood away with his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours. "I like that," he said, his voice low and dark, his grin widening.

You stared at him, and you felt your eyes widen in shock. You felt your heart race. You were still struggling against him, and you tried to pull your hand free from his restraints, but it was useless.

"Oh, pet," he sneered, his tone laced with malice. "I'll make you pay for that defiance."

"What are you planning? Torture me?" you challenged back.

"Torture is such a crude term," he replied, his words dripping with sadistic pleasure. "I prefer 'punish'. After all, you've been a naughty girl. And naughty girls must be disciplined."

Your eyes narrowed, a fierce glare aimed his way. "You can't do anything to break me. You can't force me to feel anything. You have no control over me."

He laughed, "Is that so? You know nothing about me, love. Nothing. If I had my way, I would've taken you to my bed, and kept you there, tied up, blindfolded, gagged, naked, helpless, at my mercy. But I can't do that, yet. However, that doesn't mean I can't have fun."

"You're insane. I despise you," you retorted, your words heavy with hatred.

"That's fine," he replied, his tone oddly calm. "I'm used to people hating me. It's just a matter of time before they change their minds. And I'll have you. One way or another, you're mine."

"Go to hell."

"Only if you come with me."

You felt a chill run down your spine, and you couldn't help but shiver. You couldn't stop thinking about the things he had said. About how you were his. You tried to shake the thoughts away, but they were persistent.

You accidentally clenched your pussy at his words, you hoped he didn't notice.

He chuckled, the sound sending chills down your spine. "Oh, pet, that's adorable," he taunted, his grin widening with malicious amusement. "Do you like the thought of that, pet?" Loki's eyes glittered with dark intent, sensing the conflict within you, and it only served to fuel his sadistic amusement.

"No!" You denied.

"Then why did you clench your pussy, hmm? Was it because you were imagining me taking you?"

"It was just a reflex," you stammered, attempting to deny the undeniable truth.

"Is that so?" he murmured, his voice a dark, taunting whisper. His smirk widened, and he moved his face closer to yours until there were mere inches between your lips. "You're lying, love."

"I won't let you slip away again," he whispered, his fingers tightening around your throat, making each breath a struggle. His eyes bore into yours. "I will make you mine."

He tightened his grip around your throat and slammed your back against the wall, your head hit the wall with a loud thud. You couldn't breathe. The pain was unbearable. Tears began streaming down your face as you struggled to breathe.

But this was making you turned on, despite how much you hated Loki, you couldn't deny that he was hot and the way he was being rough with you was making your pussy throb.

"You'll see. It's time to begin your training, pet." He whispered as his hands travelled lower, caressing your inner thigh. "Please, Loki."

"Shhh, shh." He pressed his finger against your lips, "Save your begging."

“Fuck you!”

He raised his eyebrows and smirked, "I would love to do that right now, but I think we should save it for later."

"You bastard!" you spat, your anger seething.

"Watch your language, pet," he sneered, his grip tightening as he grabbed your chin, his fingers digging into your jaw. "Now, be a good girl and open your mouth." He took a piece of cloth out of his pocket. It was green.

"Hell No! I won't do it. I won't cooperate." You retorted, like who in the world would agree to that?

He sighed. "You know, you really are a stubborn little thing. It's adorable. But, it won't get you anywhere. In fact, it'll just make things worse."

You stared at him. You couldn't believe what was happening. How could he be so cruel? So evil? He chuckled. "I told you. You're not in control here. I am. Now, open your mouth."

“Never.”

"Fine. Then I'll do it for you." He used his magic to force open your mouth, his magic was painful, and it burned. You could barely move. He put the cloth in your mouth and tied it around your head. You tried to scream but couldn't.

"So pretty," he said as he stroked your cheek. "You should be grateful that I'm even letting you use this, instead of forcing you to be silent. And remember, the gag stays on unless I say otherwise. Understand?"

You shook your head mumbling, "Mmff, no."

"That's too bad," he mused, his voice dripping with sadistic amusement. "Because if you try to remove the gag, I'll have to punish you. And you don't want that, do you?"

"Nnooo, I don't," you mumbled, your voice barely audible through the gag.

"Good girl," he purred. "You'll get used to it."

With a swift motion, he removed the shadow restraints from your arms, and you immediately attempted to fight back, you tried to hit him, but he easily dodged your blow. His grip iron-strong when he caught your hand. "Careful, pet," he cautioned, his voice a dangerous whisper. "My patience wears thin."

Using his powers, he summoned the shadow to immobilize you once more, pinning you against the wall, this time including your legs. You were rendered utterly helpless, trapped in his web of darkness.

"Now, let's begin," he said, his voice oozing with menace. You remained tied up, gagged, and entirely at his merciless mercy.

He took out a dagger from his belt and cut through your shirt and bra, leaving you exposed. "Oh my, that's a nice sight."

You let out a muffled scream, "You don't need clothes. They will only get in the way."

He began kissing your neck and sucking on your skin. "Mmf," You moaned softly as his lips trailed down your collarbone, leaving a trail of kisses and bites. He cupped your breast and teased your nipple.

"Mmff No..."

He ignored your protests and continued to play with your nipples.

"You like that, don't you? I can feel how wet you are, darling." He whispered into your ear.

"Mmmff." You tried to deny, but he could hear your thoughts.

He smirked. "I bet if I put my fingers inside you right now, they'd slide right in. I bet you're dripping wet for me, aren't you, my sweet?"

"Mmf."

"You don't need to speak, little one," he whispered, his voice a low, seductive murmur that sent shivers down your spine. "Just relax. I know what you want."

His hand glided down your thigh, his touch sending electric sparks through your skin, until he slipped his fingers under the hem of your dress and traced the edge of your panties. "And it seems that your body agrees with me," he continued, "It's telling me that it's ready to submit to me."

You closed your eyes and tried to block him out. But he could hear your thoughts, and he knew what you were thinking.

"Come on, pet. Open your eyes and look at me. I want to see your beautiful eyes."

Reluctantly, you opened your eyes and found him staring at you, his gaze darkened with hunger and desire.

"There you go. Such a good girl." He praised you.

He slid your panties to the side and his fingers found your pussy, already dripping wet. "Oh, you're so wet, pet. Do you want me that much? Do you want me to fuck you, hmm?"

He slid your panties to the side and cupped your pussy. "Fuck," he muttered as his fingers slipped between your folds, "You're already dripping for me."

You blushed furiously as he rubbed your clit in slow, gentle circles.

"Yes," he said, his voice deepening, "Your body wants me. It wants me to take you and make you mine."

His finger pressed against your entrance and then pushed into you, making you gasp. He curled it and began to massage your G-spot. You bit your lip and moaned, trying not to make too much noise. You tried to squirm away from him, but it was no use.

You clenched your fists, struggling to hold back the moan threatening to escape your lips. A soft whimper escaped your lips, and the Loki behind you laughed softly. "No. You're not getting away from me."

You whimpered as he thrust another finger into you, stretching you even further. He began pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy, making you gasp and moan under the gagged cloth. His fingers worked their magic, sliding in and out of you, rubbing your G-spot with each stroke. He kept a steady rhythm, keeping you on the edge.

You could feel your walls tightening around his fingers, the sensation driving you mad. The Loki in front of you watched intently as he continued to pleasure you, his gaze filled with a mix of lust and amusement as you struggled to keep control. "Oh, little one," he said, "I love seeing you like this. So desperate. So needy. So fucking sexy." His other hand gripped your hips, keeping you in place.

"You're so wet," he murmured, "You're practically begging me to fuck you."

"Mmfff." You tried to ignore him, but he curled his fingers and stroked you just right, and your hips bucked involuntarily. You were quickly approaching your orgasm, and it was impossible to stop yourself from moaning loudly.

Loki leaned in and nipped at your neck, and you shivered as his breath caressed your skin. "But I won't. Not yet. First, I want to watch you come. I want to see your face when you orgasm. I want to hear the sounds you make when you come."

His fingers thrusting into your pussy, his thumb rubbing your clit. You were so close, and you knew that he could sense it. "Ah, yes. That's it. You're doing so well. Now, tell me... do you want to cum?" He pumped them faster, deeper.

You shook your head. You didn't want to come, you tried to resist, but you were too far gone. You felt the pressure building in your core, the pleasure was too much.

He leaned down and whispered in your ear, "Then let's see how long you can last."

He pumped his fingers faster and harder, making you moan and cry out. He thrust a third finger into your pussy and continued his assault on your clit. He was fucking you with his fingers, and you were so close. You could feel the heat rising in your belly, and you knew you couldn't hold it back any longer. You shook your head at him begging him not to make you come.

"Come on pet, don't fight it, just let it happen. Give into the pleasure. Come for me."

He pumped his fingers faster and harder, making you moan and cry out. "Yes, that's it," he whispered, "Just a little bit longer, you're so close."

He was relentless, his fingers working your pussy expertly. "Nnnn." You tried to tell him that you weren't going to let him win, but you couldn't speak.

You could feel the pleasure building and you knew that he could sense it. He kept pumping his fingers and rubbing your clit, and you couldn't hold back any longer. Your pussy was so wet, his fingers were sliding in and out so easily. You felt the orgasm approaching, the pressure was building, and you knew you couldn't hold it back any longer.

"You're going to come, whether you want to or not. So, don't fight it, just let it happen."

"Mmmmmm"

"Yes. You can't stop it. I'm going to make you come."

He continued to thrust his fingers, his thumb circling your clit, the pressure building until you could take it no more. He removed the gagged from your mouth, "Let me hear your moans, pet."

You let out a loud cry, unable to contain it. "That's it. You're so close, I can feel it.” Your back arched and you cried out, his fingers and thumb pushing you over the edge. "Come for me, my sweet. Come for me. Now." He curled his fingers inside you and bit your neck.

You screamed and bucked as the orgasm took you, and he didn't let up. He continued to pump his fingers and rub your clit, pushing you further and further until you couldn't take it anymore. You thrashed about as the pleasure was too much, your orgasm overwhelming your senses.

Your body writhing against his fingers. Your release was so intense that it made your whole body shudder. He held you tightly, his fingers still moving in and out of your pussy, drawing out your orgasm.

"There we go," he said, smiling down at you. "Such a good girl. You're such a good girl for me, pet."

You were a panting, sweating, mess, and you were exhausted.

He kissed your forehead and pulled his fingers out of you. You were glad the shadow was there restraining you or you would collapse.

After you came down from your high, you realized what just happened. You spat at him, "Fuck you, Loki. You're disgusting."

"Disgusting?" He raised his eyebrows. "Now, why would you say that, little one? Was it not good for you? You certainly seemed to enjoy yourself."

"Get the fuck away from me." you spat, your voice filled with venom.

He laughed, "You don't get to tell me what to do, little one. I'm not done with you yet."

"You fucking monster," you screamed, "I'm not going to let you touch me."

He grinned and grabbed your hair, pulling you towards him. "Watch your mouth, pet. I don't like hearing you use foul language. Now, since I was so kind to give you such a nice orgasm, will you be a good girl and obey me without any fuss?"

You rolled your eyes. "Like hell I will!"

He smirked in response. "Since I've been rather kind to you," Loki began, his eyes roaming over your body, "I have a proposition for you."

Though you had little desire to hear anything he had to say, your curiosity got the best of you, compelling you to reluctantly listen.

"Do you want me to fuck you here, right now in this alley, or in our room where we will be alone, and no one will interrupt us." He said with a smirk.

Your throat tightened, both options he presented were equally horrifying. But, the last thing you wanted was for someone to find you two here, like this. "Neither.” you choked out.

"That wasn't an option, my sweet."

You glared at him, "You're vile," you hissed

He raised an eyebrow, seemingly unaffected by your words. "You say the most hurtful things, pet."

"I'm not going to choose," you declared, "I'm not choosing anything. I'd rather die than have sex with you."

He looked amused. "Fine, then I will choose. You have a few seconds to think about it." He said as he took his jacket off, and dropped it to the ground.

"You're going to take me right here? You're an animal."

"It's your fault for refusing. If you choose the other option, I was going to be nice. I'll be rough if you insist."

"If you touch me, I'll kill you." You growled.

He laughed. "Oh, little one. It's not me you have to worry about."

Ignoring your warning, he reached forward, his touch cold against your skin, and ran his thumb along your lower lip. "Shame that I have to punish you. I'm sure you'll be a good girl after today."

You gritted your teeth and move your face away from his touch, "Don't touch me."

He ignored your demand, and began undoing his pants. He pulled his cock out, and started stroking it. You stared at his member and he was already rock hard. You hesitated, not wanting to touch him.

"Are you afraid, my sweet?"

You remained silent, refusing to dignify his question with a response.

He laughed, “There's no need to be scared. I won't hurt you. Unless you disobey me."

He moved closer, his proximity suffocating. With a swift, unwelcome touch, he reached out and stroked your cheek. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't help but flinch away from his caress.

"Relax, darling. This will be pleasurable for the both of us." He said as he grabbed his cock and ran it against your slit.

You felt your wetness seep onto his cock.

"STOP!" you screamed, your voice breaking the tense atmosphere, forcing him to halt his actions and look up at you.

He smiled at you. "Do you want me to stop, pet?"

You nodded frantically, desperation clouding your eyes. "Yes, I do."

"Tell me," he purred, his tone dripping with cruelty, "why should I stop?"

You scrambled for an excuse, your mind racing. "Let's do it in your place then," you stammered, your words rushed. "Please? I don't want anyone to see." Desperation clung to your voice as you pleaded, hoping against hope that he would agree to your request.

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh, pet. You know that won't work."

He pressed his cock against your pussy again.

You felt his tip slip inside you. "PLEASE! I'll be good, just please stop."

He smiled. "I like the sound of that."

He sighed, "Very well, little one." He swiftly pulled up his pants, adjusted his shirt, and retrieved his jacket, freeing you in the process. You winced as you flexed your arms, the restraints having taken their toll.

With a snap of a finger, he put your clothes back on, and you felt like a weight has been lifted off your chest. You couldn't believe he stopped. He looked at you. "Remember what I said, pet. You don't speak about this to anyone. I'll know if you do. Understand?"

You nodded.

"Good girl," he affirmed.

"Come," he motioned for you to follow him, and for a moment, you considered fleeing again, knowing full well that it branded you a coward. But the terror of Loki's power held you in check.

You didn't get far before he seized you once more. "Enough!" he bellowed, sending you crashing to the ground. Your body felt numb, the pain overwhelming. You begged through the agony, "Please."

"You brought this on yourself, pet," Loki's tone was icy, disappointment etched in his features. "I was going to take care of you, give everything you desired, and all I asked in return was your love and trust. And you broke it."

"Please, Loki. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," you pleaded, desperation lacing your words.

He shook his head, "No, pet. There is no going back. You have to pay the price for what you've done," he stated firmly, his grip unyielding.

Loki wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer to him, "Sweet dreams my pet."

And then, everything faded into darkness.

When you woke up, you were on the bed, naked. The room was dark, and there was no sign of Loki. At least right now your arms and legs weren’t bounded. But still he had kidnapped you. "Fucking asshole!" You cursed inside your head.

Then you heard footsteps approaching outside, you pretended to fall asleep, hoping that he'd leave. "I know you're awake, my sweet." He chuckled, "Did you really think you could trick me, darling? You're such a naughty girl, aren't you? Tsk tsk. Such a bad girl."

You tried to fool the god of mischief, what an idiot you were. You opened your eyes and saw him staring at you. He sat down next to you and began caressing your body. He ran his hand up and down your legs.

You slapped his hand away, you hated him. How dare he touch you like that! Loki grabbed your wrist, "Don't try to stop me, little one." He threatened, his grip was tight. It hurt. "No, stop." You whimpered. You tried to struggle free, but he was too strong.

"Oh no, no, no, you're not going anywhere." He said as he pinned you down on the bed. "Are you ready to behave now, my sweet?"

You refused to respond, instead, you glared at him.

Loki shook his head and chuckled. "You are so beautiful, my sweet.”

You were getting tired of him calling you sweet and darling. "Shut up, Loki. Don’t fucking call me that, you bastard!"

He gave you a stern look. "Behave."

"Or what?" You challenged.

Loki leaned down and pressed his lips to your ear. "If you don't stop that right now, I'm going to have to punish you."

You glared up at him. "What, like you haven't already done that?"

Loki smirked, "Don't be a smartass, darling. I can make this a lot worse."

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, sure."

Loki gripped your hair tightly and tugged your head back. "Are you sure you want to challenge me?"

You looked up at him defiantly. "Do your worst." You then saw him grinned, you realized you had made a big mistake.

"As you wish, little one." Loki said with a wicked grin. He got off the bed and started taking his clothes off. You knew what he was going to do, and it scared you.

He took off his shirt and threw it aside. You were confused at first, until Loki lifted his other hand and started waving it.

"What are you doing?"

"Just making sure you don't try to resist."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"It means, I don't want you getting away." Loki smirked. He then started moving his hand up and down your body.

You squirmed and tried to push his hand away, but they felt frozen. "Let me go, you sick bastard!"

Loki gave you a wicked grin. "No, I don't think I will"

Loki forced his lips against yours, you tried to resist, but it was useless. You couldn't move. You tried to turn your head, but it was no use.

Loki forced his tongue into your mouth. He explored every inch of your mouth, tasting you. You could taste his breath. It was sweet, with a hint of mint. You tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let you.

"Stop!" You yelled, "Please stop, Loki! I don't want to do this!

Loki ignored you. He kept kissing you, forcing his tongue down your throat. "I know you like it, darling."

You shook your head. Loki broke the kiss and smiled. "You're such a stubborn little thing, aren't you?"

"Fuck you." You spat.

“Why are you so impatient, my little pet?” Loki laughed. "Don’t worry, I’ll do it in a moment. Right now, I'm more concerned with teaching you a lesson."

You glared at him, you were so pissed off. He laughed again, “Such a pretty face, too.” He traced his finger along your jawline.

Then you watched Loki removed his pants, revealing his fully erect cock. He stroked himself slowly. You felt your body heat up. You couldn't believe it. He was making you hot.

"See something you like?" He grinned.

You blushed. You looked away. It had been awhile since you had sex with him or anyone else. You missed being fucked by him. You needed to feel his cock deep inside of you. But you knew this was wrong, you looked away from him.

"Look at me." He ordered.

You turned and looked at him. You watched as he continued to stroke his cock. "You betrayed me, Y/N." He climbed over you and straddled your hips, trapping your wrists with his hands, and pinned them above your head. "You hurt me. You have to be punished."

“You are hurting me too.”

“I don’t think so, pet. Deep down, you want this. You want me to force myself to you, you don’t think I know? I know your deepest darkest desire. The desire you try to deny. The desire for me to make you mine again. You want to be my pet again, don't you?"

He was right. You were afraid to admit it but you missed Loki. But you didn't want to admit it. You shook your head, “No! I don’t have such thing.” You knew it was a lie, deep down you wanted him to use you and force himself on you, forced you into submission, make you his again, like he had done many times before.

"Keep lying to yourself, pet. I know you more than you know yourself. Now, open your mouth and let me fuck it.”  He smirked and moved closer to you. His cock was inches away from your face. You moved your head away, but he grabbed your hair and pulled it. You winced in pain.

"Open up. Open wide and say ahh."

You refused to obey. "Don't be stubborn." You clenched your teeth together. "If you don't open your mouth, I'll fuck your throat. I'll make you gag and choke."

"You're sick."

"Maybe, but so are you, darling."

He grabbed your face, forced your mouth open. You kept them close together, "I'll fucking bite your dick off, I swear."

He was having none of it, he used his magic to make you couldn't move your jaw. Then he shoved his cock inside your mouth and forced his way in. He started to pump his hips and his cock went deep down your throat, hitting the back of your throat. He moaned, enjoying the feeling.

He pushed his cock deep into your throat, making you gag. You could feel his hard length against your tongue. His precum leaked onto your taste buds, sending shivers down your spine. He kept thrusting in and out of your mouth, deeper and deeper. Your eyes watered.

 You coughed, trying to catch your breath, but he was relentless. His hands gripped your hair tightly, his hips moved faster and harder, his cock sliding in and out of your throat.

You felt your body relax, your heart rate quickened, and your clit throbbed. You were getting turned on by this. You whimpered and felt a surge of excitement flow through your body. You couldn't believe it. You were excited at the thought of him taking you, forcing you, fucking you.

You were sick.

"This is all your fault." He said as he looked at you, enjoying the way your throat was stretched around him. "Such a good pet. Take it all, pet."

He grabbed your hair and forced his cock deeper into your mouth. You were struggling to breathe. He moaned louder as he felt his cock going deeper into your throat. He held his cock in your throat, watching you struggle to breathe. "Such a pretty face. I wonder how many people you've sucked off.”

You whimpered, feeling your body reacting to his words.

"Did you plan to suck that guy you were flirting with?" He thrusted his hips. You gagged and tears filled your eyes. "He could never make you feel this good." He moaned. His thrust became harder and deeper. You choked and gagged on his cock.

You cried, your body trembled. You were about to pass out, when he suddenly pulled his cock out and allowed you to breathe. You gasped, sucking in as much air as possible. You couldn't move, you were frozen. He then proceed to grab his cock and stroke it.

"Such a pretty sight, you are. And the view of your lips wrapped around my cock." He said, grinning. "Don't worry, my pet. I'm almost there. You're doing a great job. You're going to be rewarded for being so good for me. I'm going to give you what you want. What you need."

He grabbed your hair and slammed his cock deep again into your throat. Then his hand reached to your pussy. He put his finger in your pussy, you moaned as he touched your pussy. He smirked.  "That's a good girl, you are learning. Now, suck my cock."

You started sucking his cock. He started thrusting his cock deeper and harder into your throat. He moaned as you sucked his cock. He loved feeling your mouth on his cock.

"Mmmphh… stwop.” You tried to beg, but his cock was down your throat.

"Do not talk with your mouth full, darling. That is not polite."

You felt him tighten around your neck. His grip was firm.

"I am going to cum. Do not spit. Swallow every drop, and maybe I will reward you. But only if you're a good girl. Do you understand?"

"Mmmph." You tried to protest, but the god didn't listen. You couldn't do anything except suck his cock. Loki kept fucking your mouth until his seed spilled into your throat, you felt the warm liquid slide down your throat making you choke. Your eyes rolled back as you swallowed his seed. He pulled out and released your hands.

You coughed, and gasped for air. "Good girl. Very good girl." Loki patted your head.

You glared at him. You wanted him dead.

"Don't be like that, Y/N. You're supposed to be happy. This is what you wanted, remember? We're together again. Just like old times."

You looked away. "That was a long time ago."

Loki grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. "But it's not too late. We can have it again. We can have everything. We just have to work together."

"Work together?" You scoffed, "How can we work together? You lied to me!”

“We can talk later, my love. Right now, I need to be inside you.” He stroked his cock, he was still hard even after he came earlier. He spread your legs apart and grabbed a hold of his cock, aiming it towards your wet pussy.

"Now I'm going to fuck you so hard until you pass out. Until I cum deep inside of you and make you mine again. Then when you wake up, I'll fuck you again, and again, and again."

You felt him press his cock against your pussy, his head slid between your folds and penetrated you. "No, Loki, please, I'm sorry."

"It's too late for that."  He stroked down his hard cock even after he just came, he was hard again. He then forced himself inside of you. You screamed in agony. He was too big.

"Oh, stop your whining." Loki chuckled. "You're such a baby. It doesn't hurt that much."

His cock was big that it stretched your open, he didn’t give you time to adjust. You screamed, "You fucking asshole!"

"Watch your mouth, darling. I'm not a fan of that language." Loki slapped your pussy, it was red and swollen from his previous assault. He kept thrusting his hips, his cock pounded you over and over. Your whole body ached from him.

He was holding your waist down with one hand and pumping his hips in and out of your pussy. He continued to thrust in and out of you. He took his time and made sure he hit the spot that would make you scream and beg for more. He knew what you wanted, he knew your body and what made you tick.

You were biting your lip, trying not to give him the satisfaction of hearing you moan for him.

"Why don't you let me hear those beautiful moans, pet?" Loki purred, leaning his face in close to yours. "Don't hold back, you know you want to enjoy this."

"No..."

Loki grinned and snapped his hips hard against yours. "I know what you like, and I know you like this. It's why I keep doing this." He smiled wickedly. Loki picked up the pace. His cock hit the spot inside of you. "It’s okay. You don’t need to be embarrassed, just let it all out."

You bit your lip and gripped his sheets, trying not to make a sound. "Darling, you're so stubborn, you're going to hurt yourself." Loki grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked on it, causing you to moan and look up at him.

"You're fucking psycho!"

Loki began pounding into you even harder. His hand gripped your throat, and you felt yourself grow weaker. fast. "Loki, please..." Your vision began to fade, and you started gasping for air.  “Stop…” Loki's fingers wrapped around your neck, he choked you.

He squeezed them together and pounding his cock into you. You screamed and he slapped your pussy again. He fucked you harder than you'd ever been fucked before. You were sobbing, begging him to stop. Tears ran down your face but he didn't slow down. He kept fucking you harder than before. Your breasts were bouncing wildly as he pounded into you.

You felt him hit a spot inside of you that caused a surge of pleasure to flow through your body.  "That's it, darling." Loki moaned, slamming his hips harder against yours. "Come on, you know you want to."

You felt your orgasm building. You tried to fight the urge, but you couldn't help yourself. He kept pounding into you, his cock rubbing against your g-spot.

"Don’t fight it. You can't resist, so just give in." Loki said thrusting harder and harder, until you were both a moaning, writhing mess. Your walls clenched around his cock, and you arched your back. You moaned loudly as he fucked you harder and faster.

You couldn't fight it anymore, you screamed in pleasure, feeling yourself reaching your peak.

"Fuck, yes! Come for me! Milk my cock, pet"

You cried out as your orgasm crashed over you. Loki didn't stop, he continued thrusting in and out of your pussy. Your body shook uncontrollably. You cried out again, screaming.

"Please, stop." You pleaded, panting.

Loki ignored you, he fucked you harder and harder, and you could feel his cock throbbing inside of you. "I'm going to fill you with my seed. You'll be leaking it out for days. Every time you sit down or move, you'll feel it dripping down your thighs. You'll be mine."

"Please, Loki! No! Pull out!" You begged, trying to push him off of you. But he was too strong. "Why are you doing this to me?" You cried.

"I'm not going to pull out." Loki's fingers wrapped around your neck, he choked you. "After you betrayed me, this is the least you deserve. I'm going to make you pregnant. You'll have a little monster running around. You won’t ever leave me again.”

"No! Loki, stop!" You sobbed, crying out. "I'll do anything! Please don't cum in me."

"It's too late, pet." Loki ignored your pleas, he continued thrusting hard. He rubbed your clit, "Cum with me, my sweet." He was rubbing it harder, making it hard for you to keep up with his thrusts.

You shook your head. Loki growled. "Now."

You gasped, "No! No!" You cried out, trying to pull away. You couldn't fight it anymore. You moaned loudly. Your whole body spasmed with your orgasm, your walls clenching tightly around him.

Loki groaned. You felt him got bigger inside you. He let out a long moan. "Take my cum."  He spilled his hot seed inside you. It filled you, filling you up, some of it spilling out. You could feel it filling your womb, stretching your belly. It was so warm.

He continued to fuck you through his orgasm, pushing more of his cum into you. "No! Please stop!"

Loki laughed, his cock was still hard and pushed his cock back into your pussy. "Oh, but we're not done yet. I'm not finished with you yet." He pushed himself deeper inside you. He was still coming. "This is just the beginning."

"You're fucking insane."

"Yes, I know." Loki was still pumping his cock in and out of you. "I'm going to train your body. You're going to crave me, my cock, and my cum. And every time you see me, you're going to want me to fuck you. You'll need me."

"No!" You cried.

"Yes, yes, you will. Because I'm the only one who can satisfy you." He was thrusting harder, deeper, his pace increasing.

You were afraid he might never stop. And he never did.

It had felt like hours. You lost count on how many times you had orgasmed. It was too much. The room was spinning, the pain and pleasure becoming too much. You were so sensitive, every touch sending you over the edge.

“Loki, please stop. I’m begging you.” You were exhausted, spent, and sore. You couldn’t take it anymore. But you couldn’t stop him, he was too strong and too weak. He kept fucking you over and over again until you were almost at the point of passing out. But he made sure you never did by using his magic to keep you awake.

"Look at your beautiful, stretched pussy. My seed is already filling you."

You whimpered, you could feel it. You could feel the weight of his cum inside you. He never pull out. He kept coming, and his cock kept spurting more and more. You didn’t think it was possible for anyone to have so much cum. He was fucking you again and again.

"You'll learn to love me. You'll learn to beg for me. You'll learn to come on command. You'll learn to obey me. You'll learn to pleasure me. You'll learn to worship me. Because that is how we are, my sweet."

It seemed like an eternity, but finally, he was done. He collapsed onto you, panting heavily. His cock remained buried inside your pussy, and you felt him softening inside you. Your pussy ached from the rough pounding he had given you.

"You are mine, my sweet. Now and forever." He said, giving you a possessive look.

You felt his cum slowly trickle out of you. Your belly was still swollen from the amount he had pumped into you. You had never felt so full. It was like you were a water balloon, and he had been filling you with water.

Loki kissed you deeply. You could barely fight him back, you were too weak. He smiled and ran his hand through your hair. "Now get some sleep, I'll be back to check on you later." Loki got up from the bed and walked away.

The door shut. You laid there, stunned and exhausted. You were still trying to process what had happened, but there was one thing you knew for sure. You were trapped. You were his prisoner.

He was not going to let you go. Ever.

"I hate you, Loki." You whispered.

And you knew he heard it.

E/N : I intentionally made her emotion sway back and forth, torn between desiring him yet hating his actions. They're both twisted in their own ways, perhaps that's why they complement each other.

Honestly, I'm not entirely content with how the story is going; I might rewrite or delete it later, I'm not sure. Nevertheless, thank you for reading!

Let me know if you enjoy dark fics too! I adore them and plan to write more.

[proxima-writes]

i can see you (miguel o'hara's version)

pairing: professor/mentor!miguel o’hara x graduate assistant!female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 4.5k

summary:

As Dr. Miguel O’Hara’s graduate teaching and research assistant, you’ve spent years pushing down the inappropriate thoughts you’ve had about the brilliant, gorgeous man.

But what happens when a late night at the lab and a scientific breakthrough leads to a breakthrough of a different kind?

author's note:

my first (but probably not my last) miguel o'hara fic based on taylor swift's song "i can see you" from speak now tv. if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging or commenting and letting me know your thoughts!

content warnings/tags:

explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), explicit language, no use of y/n, alternate universe - no powers, age gap (undefined), presence of power dynamics (teacher/student), author took scientific liberties (forgive her, its been 10 years since bio II lab), pineapple on pizza, potentially bad spanish translations, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), miguel picking reader up, unprotected p in v, size kink, choking, pet names, praise kink, competency kink, dirty talk. let me know if i've missed anything!

Translations you may need:

Universidad Estatal de Nueva York - State University of New York

Sí - Yes

Dios mío - My god

El Origen de la Genética Mutante - The Origen of Mutant Genetics

Mierda - Shit

Te lo prometo - I promise you

Lo juro por Dios - I swear to god

Arañita - little spider

Cállate - be quiet

Mirame - look at me

te sientes tan bien - you feel so good

Perfecto - perfect

________

You’re sitting in the front row, in the seat you’ve claimed as your spot, watching Dr. O’Hara pace in front of the projector screen that displays today’s lesson notes. 

“And what is the hallmark of this mutant gene that demonstrates its incompatibility for transmutation?” He asks the silent room of undergraduates that have found themselves on the roster for his Mutation Genomics III course at Universidad Estatal de Nueva York. 

A few hands go up around the room and Dr. O’Hara points to a student in the back who says, “Uh, it’s got a spiked protein arrangement that can’t be modified?”

“Is that a question or an answer?” Dr. O’Hara asks. There’s a sprinkle of laughter in the room and a smirk tilts his lips briefly. 

“An answer,” the student says more confidently. Dr. O’Hara nods.

“Correct, but that’s not the whole picture,” he says. His eyes catch yours and he gestures for you to join him. Your eyes go wide as you stand and walk to his side at the front of the class. “I’m sure some of you that actually use your available resources to pass my class recognize my teaching assistant. And if you don’t, I recommend visiting her office hours during this section because this is her area of research.”

Your cheeks feel warm as everyone’s attention falls to you. Dr. O’Hara hands you the data pad and steps back, giving you an encouraging nod. You tap the screen, bringing the diagram up on the holo projector and making it larger.

“You’re correct that the spiked protein arrangement can’t be modified, but there’s something more limiting in this particular model. If you look at it from this angle—,” you spin the DNA diagram, “you’ll see something else hindering the modification process. What do you see?”

Hands go up. Dr. O’Hara points to another student who says, “There’s a gap jump. The spike protein would continue to travel across the gap jump and avoid any inserts.”

“Exactly. So, what’s the potential alternative?” 

“Fill the gap. Target the spike protein in your modification cycle,” Dr. O’Hara finishes. “That’s all for today. Your exam next Wednesday will include this presentation, so don’t act surprised when you see the questions.”

A few students stop to speak with Dr. O’Hara as you gather your bag from your desk. His low voice calls your name, the timbre of it sending a shiver down your spine as you step up to his desk.

“You’re running a sequence right now, sí?” He asks, shuffling a stack of papers into order. 

“Yes, it should finish around seven tonight. Sorry, I know that it's late for a Friday,” you reply. He waves a hand dismissively.

“I’ll see you in the lab.” His brown eyes flick to yours and your stomach swoops, heart skipping a beat, same as it always does when he looks at you. 

Dr. Miguel O’Hara makes you nervous. Not only because he’s one of the most notable researchers in the field of mutant genomics, but also because he’s so handsome he leaves you breathless. He’s tall, towering over most men you’ve met, with broad shoulders and a tapered waist that are always covered by a suit and tie in the classroom or a lab coat in the research lab. His tan skin is complemented by dark hair and brown eyes that make you lose your train of thought when you stare into them for too long.

Which…is exactly what you’re doing now.

You clear your throat, stepping back from his desk. Had you been leaning closer? Christ, you hope not. You give him a brief smile before responding, “Yeah, see you tonight. Thank you, Dr. O’Hara!”

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Miguel?” He calls after you. 

“Maybe when I’ve cracked the sequence!”

________

Miguel watches your hips sway in the jeans you wore to class today, the denim hugging your curves so well he has to bite back a groan. The door to the lecture hall slams shut behind you and he sighs, rubbing a hand over his jaw in frustration.

You drive him crazy. Every class period you’re sitting in the front row, watching him as you tap your pen to your lips or leaning over your desk just enough to give him a glimpse down your blouse or dress. Or you’re in the lab, delicately handling samples and extractions with a level of competency beyond your years, your lip caught between your teeth as you analyze a sequencing output. 

He looks forward to and dreads your impending graduation in equal measure, being free from the constant temptation but losing the greatest researcher he’s met in years. 

Miguel finishes gathering his belongings as the door opens and the next lecturer comes in, nodding at him in greeting. As he steps out into the warm Nueva York air, he has a weird sense that something big is coming. 

He just doesn’t know what.

________

Miguel is waiting for you outside of his double locked research lab that evening, suit jacket hung over his arm and the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to reveal tan forearms dusted with dark hair. Your brain nearly short circuits at the sight, conjuring up images of those arms wrapped around your—

No, you think. He’s your mentor. Your handsome, intelligent, and very serious mentor. 

He looks up as you approach, corners of his lips tilting the slightest bit. Or maybe it’s a trick of the light, you can’t be sure, but he presses his palm to the biometric lock and the heavy metal doors slide open. He steps inside ahead of you, putting his face in the frame of the security camera. A red laser scans his face and a light above the second locked door goes from red to green, the click of the lock disengaging echoing in the anteroom. 

You follow him through the door and into his research lab. The fluorescent lights glimmer off the chrome equipment and pristine bench surfaces. A machine whirs, running the sequence analysis you’ve been waiting on. 

“LYLA, what’s the status?” Dr. O’Hara says as he sets his belongings on the desk in the corner.

“Sequence will complete on schedule. Also, your specimen delivery is available in the ultra low freezer,” Dr. O’Hara’s AI assistant, LYLA, announces, feminine voice carrying through the room. 

“I have a surprise for you,” Dr. O’Hara says, tugging on his lab coat as he walks towards the ultra low freezer. 

“A surprise?” You ask, setting your stuff down at the assistant’s work space. 

There’s the beep of a passcode being entered and the heavy freezer door being opened and shut. He’s holding a tray of cryovials, the contents varying in color. He sets the tray on a bench top near your desk and pulls one out, holding it up to the light.

“Isolated arachnoid mutagen,” he says. Your mouth drops open in shock. You rush forward, pressing in close to stare up at the vial with him. 

“You’re kidding,” you whisper. He hands the vial to you, fingers brushing yours. You hold it between your thumb and index finger to inspect the suspension, red in color with tiny flecks of black. “Dr. O’Hara, this is insane. How did you even get this?”

“A guy owed me a favor,” he says. You glance up at his face and you’re suddenly very aware of how close your bodies are. One deep breath and your chest would probably graze his, and did you just imagine his eyes dropping to your lips? 

“That’s one hell of a favor,” you murmur, stepping back. “You want me to work on the extraction?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“You say that like I’m not your research assistant. You can tell me to do anything.” Dr. O’Hara’s eyes go wide and you cough. “I mean, you know, lab related. Research stuff. Yeah. I’ll get started on this. LYLA? Power up the centrifuge and thermocycler, please.”

“Centrifuge is online. Thermocycler will reach optimal processing temperature in t-minus five minutes,” LYLA replies.

You set up all the necessary supplies and prepare the sample for the thermocycler, going through the motions that are now part of your muscle memory - extract, vortex, centrifuge, extract, wash, set in ice. You set your tray of samples into the thermocycler and remove your gloves to hit the start button.

________

Miguel watches you run the PCR test, fixated on the confidence with which you complete each step and your words from earlier continue to echo in his head.

“You can tell me to do anything.”

Dios mío, he thinks. He pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to will away the possibilities that anything could entail. 

“Sequence results are available. Would you like to review now?” LYLA asks. 

“Display,” Miguel says. You spin on your stool to view the hologram of the spliced DNA you prepared. He notices an issue immediately.

“Fuck,” you hiss, stepping up to the control screen and spinning the model. “There’s a deletion.”

“You knew there was a risk of that.��� 

You zoom in on the model DNA strand, a broken gap shown in the mutation. “I know there was a risk, but it should have worked.”

Miguel crosses his arms and watches as you bring up the transillumination image of the DNA you had attempted to merge with a human sample. “You wanted it to work. Science is finite. There is no room for should.”

You glance at him. You look like you’re about to say something when the thermocycler beeps and he’s left to wonder what you would have said as you busy yourself with removing your tray of DNA samples. He leans against the bench as you assemble the agarose gel for electrophoresis. 

“Tell me, why do you think there was a deletion?” He asks. 

“The mutagen was incompatible with the human strand,” you murmur, adding dye to your vials. “Just the same as it has been the last dozen times.”

You’ve loaded the wells of the gel with your sample and set it in the tank, closing the lid and turning on the power supply. Miguel takes the remaining tray of arachnid samples to the freezer while your procedure runs. He understands your frustration, he’s run his fair share of failed experiments after all.

After about an hour, the hum of the electrical current from the electrophoresis tank shuts off. Miguel, who had been reviewing a journal submission for El Origen de la Genética Mutante, joins you at the bench as you remove your gel and set it on the UV transilluminator.

“LYLA, scan and project,” you ask the AI assistant. Miguel stands behind you, looking at the DNA bands you’ve generated. He’s momentarily distracted by the fact that he’s so close he can smell the sweet scent of your perfume, something citrusy that reminds him of summer.

You jump suddenly, back colliding with his chest. His hands come up to grip your waist, steadying you as you turn to face him, face lit up in the brightest grin.

“Miguel, look. This arachnid mutagen. It’s a potential match for insertion!” You say excitedly. “It has the same length as the deletion seen with the scorpion mutagen.”

“LYLA, show the current projection against the scorpion scan,” he says. The two images appear side by side and it’s clear that the band of arachnid mutagen fits definitively in a space that appears void in the scorpion samples. “Mierda.”

“You see it, right?” You ask. It’s then that Miguel realizes he’s still got his hands on your waist. He flexes his fingers experimentally, watching as your eyes go the slightest bit darker at the pressure.

“I can see it,” he murmurs. He wants so desperately to lean in closer, to back your body up until you’re pressed between the wall and his body, nowhere to go as his lips explore yours.

But he doesn’t. He drops his hands and puts much needed space between your bodies. He clears his throat.

“Prepare a combined sample,” Miguel says. You blink, checking your watch.

“It’s almost nine. Running a new combined sample would mean we’re here until close to midnight.”

“I’m familiar with how time passes, sí.”

“Are you sure you want—“

Miguel sighs, placing his hands on his hips. “You’re on the verge of one of the greatest scientific discoveries in the last decade. Do you think I give a shit about having to stay late? What kind of mentor would I be if I told you, ‘Oh just wait until Monday to change the scientific world’?”

“One with a work-life balance, probably,” you reply with a giggle. Miguel raises his eyebrows at you. “Okay, okay, combined sample. I’m on it.”

As you rush around the lab, it hits him that you called him Miguel. Not Dr. O’Hara. He’s not sure what that means but he’s certain he wants to hear his name from your lips again.

_______

Dr. O’Hara orders food while your new combined sequence runs, begrudgingly agreeing to a half pineapple and half sausage pizza to split. You’re sitting outside of the lab in the empty hallway, pizza box between you as you eat the slices over grease stained napkins. 

“What are your plans for after graduation?” Dr. O’Hara asks. You shrug.

“Probably get my doctorate. No one takes you seriously in this field without one.”

He frowns. “You’re on the cusp of a major breakthrough, one that could change our understanding of genetic modifications and mutants as we know it.”

“Yeah, and it’s coming from your lab. You’ll get listed as the first author, that’s how this goes.” You pick at your pizza crust, tearing the bread into tiny pieces that you sweep back into the box. 

“I won’t let that happen. If this works, you’ll be the first name on that paper,” Dr. O’Hara says vehemently. “Te lo prometo.”

You smile, caught in his gaze for a brief moment before an alarm rings from his watch. LYLA announces, “Sequencing complete.”

Dr. O’Hara stands, holding a hand out to you. You grasp his broad palm and he pulls you up with ease, the force of it making you stumble slightly. You press a hand to his chest to steady yourself, marveling at how solid he feels beneath your palm. 

“Sorry. Slipped,” you murmur.

He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with a crease between his brow and storms in his eyes. His watch beeps again and he releases your hand to silence it, the spell broken between you. 

He unlocks the lab doors and you join him at the holoprojector, taking a deep breath. Dr. O’Hara brings up the sequence analysis, the hologram coming to life in the space between you. Your eyes scan the model, checking for gaps, deletions, frayed nucleotides, anything that could mean your procedure didn’t work.

You turn the projection this way and that, looking at it from every angle. You scan the result output reading, eyes jumping to the green SEQUENCING SUCCESSFUL text at the bottom. 

You turn to face Dr. O’Hara, eyes wide with surprise. “It worked.”

“It did,” he replies. 

“It worked,” you say again. You’re bouncing on the balls of your feet, your grin so wide it hurts your cheeks as you rush forward shouting, “It worked!”

Dr. O’Hara’s arms open to catch you, wrapping around your waist as he lifts you from the ground and spins you. He’s smiling, a rare sight for such a serious man, and it makes your heart pound in your chest as you stare up into his face.

“Dr. O’Hara?” You ask as he sets you down, his arms still wrapped tight around your back. “What—“

His lips collide with yours, stealing your breath from your lungs and your words from your brain as you melt against his broad body. The kiss is anything but gentle, with Miguel acting like a man starved as his tongue sweeps into your mouth.

“Dr. O’Hara—“

“Lo juro por Dios, if you call me that one more time,” he growls, lips trailing down your neck with wet kisses, “Miguel. Say it.”

“M-Miguel,” you whimper. He smiles against your neck before sinking his teeth against your pulse point, making you gasp. 

“That’s right,” he says, lifting his head. His brown eyes have gone dark and he’s smirking as his hands find the hem of your blouse, fingertips ghosting across the skin of your abdomen and dipping beneath the waist of your jeans. “Tell me what you want, arañita.”

Rather than trust your voice, you bring your own hands to his shirt collar, working at the buttons of his dress shirt as he opens the fly of your pants. He slips his hand lower just as you reach the last button of his shirt, revealing the tight white t-shirt that outlines his impressive chest.

His fingers rub you over your panties and you feel your knees buckle at the delicious friction. Miguel chuckles, removing his hand to grip the backs of your thighs and lift you against him, your legs wrapping around his trim waist and your hands holding onto his shoulders. He sets you down by his desk, reaching around you to sweep the surface clean, pens and paper falling to the floor.

“In a rush are we?” You say with a laugh. Miguel raises an eyebrow at you.

“Cállate.” He kneels before you, lifting each foot to remove your shoes before turning you to face the desk with his hands on your hips. He grasps the waist of your jeans and shimmies the material down over your hips. When they’re pooled around your ankles, his warm palms grip each ass cheek roughly, spreading you open. “This pussy is even prettier than I imagined,” he groans.

“You think about my pussy a lot, Dr. O’Hara?” You ask innocently. A palm lands a smack to your ass cheek, heat blooming across your skin as you gasp.

“Don’t play dumb, baby, I know you’ve thought about this just as much. You think I can’t see it. Trust me, I can see you watching me in class with those pretty little lips wrapped around your pen, wishing it was something else. Isn’t that right?”

You gasp as he runs his thick fingers through your soaked folds, reaching forward only enough to graze your clit without giving it the attention you desperately want. He leans himself over you, his chest pressed to your back and his lips grazing your ear as he says, “Answer me.”

“Yes, yes,” you pant, the confession earning you that delicious friction, his fingers drawing messy circles around the sensitive nub. He withdraws too soon for your liking, a whine falling from your lips that he shushes, his warm breath on your pussy. You turn your head to look over your shoulder, surprised to find him on his knees.

As you watch, he spreads your cheeks once more before leaning in, licking from your clit to your entrance with a rough groan. Your head drops down, hitting the surface of the desk with a thump as he eats you out like a man who’s found water in a desert. The sounds echoing in the lab are downright indecent, deep groans of appreciation against your cunt and desperate whines from your lips.

“Miguel,” you moan, unable to keep your hips still as his tongue drives you closer to the cliff’s edge of release. “Miguel, I’m gonna cum!”

The man only grips your hips harder, fingers digging deep as he holds you still and doubles his efforts. The thread you’re hanging on by snaps, sending you falling into ecstasy as your muscles go tight and your breath leaves you in a shout of his name as you unravel. 

He pulls away only long enough to stand and turn you to face him, lifting you so that you’re sitting on the edge of the desk, legs spread by his body. He wastes no time slipping two thick fingers inside of your still fluttering cunt, his grin sharp as he sets a pace that has you trying to wiggle away to escape the overstimulation.

“Ah, Miguel!” You yelp, trying to shut your legs. His free hand shoves one thigh wide, pressing it to the desk. “What–”

“Cum for me again, I need to see your face this time,” he demands. He curls his fingers, pressing against your front wall with each drag of his hand from your body. 

“I can’t!”

“What was it you said to me earlier? I can tell you to do anything?” He curls his fingers harder, focusing his efforts on a spot that has you squirming, desperate to get away and to cum in equal measure. “I’m telling you to cum again, arañita, so be a good girl and do as I say.”

Your orgasm crashes over you in a wave, the tightness in your abdomen unraveling as you clench around his fingers. His movements slow as you try to catch your breath until he’s withdrawing, leaving you feeling disparagingly empty.

“Mirame,” Miguel says. You lift your head, pushing yourself up on your elbows and watching as he unbuckles his belt. “You made a mess, baby.”

You feel your cheeks heat with embarrassment as you notice the wet stains on the front of his gray slacks. The feeling is short lived, however, as Miguel unbuttons his pants and pushes them down his thighs along with his boxers, kicking them to the side as he reaches behind his head and pulls his t-shirt off. You’re blown away by how stunning he is, broad shoulders and chest that lead to sculpted abs and a defined adonis belt that draws your eyes to his thick and intimidatingly long cock.

“There’s no way that’s going to fit,” you tell him nervously.

“Why don’t we test that hypothesis?” He asks, taking himself in hand. You blink at him.

“Did…did you just make a joke?” Laughter bubbles up your chest until it’s spilling into the room, your shoulders shaking with the force of it. Miguel takes himself in hand, notching the broad head of his length to your dripping entrance and sliding inside the barest amount, just the tip, but it has your laughter morphing into gasps.

“Mierda,” he murmurs, gaze fixed where your bodies connect. “So fucking tight, arañita.”

You feel like he’s splitting you apart, the stretch deep and all consuming as he fits himself inside of you, drawing back after each inch and slowly thrusting back in and giving you more of his cock in the process.

“You’re so close,” he tells you. “You’re doing so good for me. Tell me how it feels.”

“It feels so fucking good, Miguel,” you answer honestly. “I’m so full.”

“Fucking right you are,” he growls. His hands shove your blouse up, bunching the fabric under your armpits to expose your breasts. He tugs the cups of your bra down before leaning forward, the last bit of his length slipping inside of you as his lips wrap around a pert nipple and his hand gropes the opposite breast. 

Your back arches at all the sensation - the fullness and stretch of him inside of you, the warmth of his mouth and the pinch of his fingers. He moves his mouth to your other breast and looks up at you through dark lashes with darker eyes as he licks the taut peak while holding your gaze.

His hips draw back, the drag of each inch from your body exquisite torture until he slams into you, the force of it sliding you up the desk. You cry out, your hands gripping his shoulders and your fingernails leaving crescent shaped indents as you cling to him.

Miguel stands, his arms looping beneath your thighs so that the backs of your knees rest across his forearms, spreading you open as he picks up his pace. He looks down at your body like it’s his greatest discovery.

“Fuck, fuck, te sientes tan bien,” he growls. 

“Miguel,” you moan, “please, please, please!”

“What are you begging for, arañita? Tell me.” 

“Wanna cum, please, Miguel,” you beg. He drops your legs, reaching up to wrap a hand around the back of your neck, urging you to sit up. You keep one hand planted on the desk behind you, the other diving into his thick, dark hair, pulling at the strands.

He drags his strong nose along your jaw as he murmurs, “Greedy girl, but I’ll give you what you need. Won’t I?”

“Uh huh,” you moan in response. His other hand settles at the base of your throat and his eyes hold a question that has your pussy clenching around him in anticipation.

His palm creeps up, strong fingers wrapping around your delicate throat, squeezing the sides the slightest bit. Your eyes roll back at the pressure.

“Look at me,” Miguel demands, “look at me while I make you cum again with my hand around your pretty throat.”

You gasp for air as he pounds into you, your release sparkling at the edges of your vision. It explodes like a supernova across your nerves, your muscles tightening around him and making him moan, a deep rumble that you echo as his movements grow erratic.

He slams deep inside of you, cock pulsing and filling you with warmth as he groans your name, head dropped to your shoulder. You’re both panting, trying to catch your breath as the sweat on your skin cools and you run your fingers through his hair.

“That was—“

“Perfecto,” he finishes, lifting his head and pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, one that has your heart pounding even harder than the lust filled ones from earlier. “It’s late. Let’s get this cleaned up and get you home. I’ll drive you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you argue. He scowls at you as you continue to say, “No, seriously, you don’t need to go out of your way—“

“Will you shut up for a minute?” Miguel asks. He holds your face in his hands as he says, “Get dressed. I’m driving you home.”

He steps back, the absence of him making you feel empty as you carefully stand from the desk on shaky legs. He hands you your jeans and you look around in confusion.

“Have you seen my underwear?” You ask.

“Hm? No, I don’t see them,” he hums, buttoning his slacks. The stain from earlier has blessedly faded. 

You shrug, pulling your jeans on and fixing your blouse. Miguel cleans up the stuff he’d knocked from the desk, putting it all back in haphazard piles and grabbing his bag. He holds his hand out to you.

“Let’s get out of here,” he says. He must sense the hesitation you’re feeling when you don’t immediately grab his hand because he steps close, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “No one will see us. It’ll be our secret.”

You nod, digging your teeth into your bottom lip. “Just this once?”

“Not if I have anything to say about it, arañita.”

The most fantastic fanart by narutoss.ramen on insta that fits the vibe of professor! miguel:

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

I Didn't Know You Smoked

Steven Grant x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist • ko-fi •

Summary: Steven has a secret habit.

🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜

A/N: Everytime I write something I feel myself putting on the clown make up more and more.

Warnings: Use of ‘fag’ as the British and Australian slang for cigarette, reader doesn’t smoke, blow job, fingering, p in v sex, cream pie, maybe kind of a cream pie kink from Steven if you look closely, swearing, typos, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 2741

The scent of smoke caused you to pause midstep. You shrugged off your backpack and hung it up on the side as you walked to the kitchen and put down your shopping bag. You’d been able to start cooking when you realised you were missing a few key ingredients and had made a quick dash to the corner shop. 

The smell of smoke hit you again, and even though it was very clearly cigarette smoke your mind quickly spiralled to smoke from a fire. Shit. Had you left a candle on in the bathroom? 

You’d lit one when you had a bath after work, the image of the flame somehow catching the towels and running up the walls burst into your head. 

You rushed to the bathroom, yanking open the door with such a force that the hinges groaned under your exertion. 

Steven practically jumped out of his skin, whipping his head around to look around at you, his eyes wide. “What the fuck?” He yelps.

“Shit, Steven, sorry, I thought I’d left a cand…” You pause, and truly take in the scene before you. 

He’s stood on the toilet, crouched a little so that he can reach the tiny top part of the window that actually opens. There’s a cigarette in his left hand. You can just see it from your angle. Steven’s hand outside in the cool evening air.

“You’re smoking?” There isn’t any judgement in your voice, just surprise. 

“Yeah, fuck, sorry,” he turns to hastily blow smoke out of the window, practically trying to shove his whole face outside before he grabs the old jar from were he had propped it on the window sill and stubs out his cigarette hastily. He puts the butt in there after and screws on the lid. 

You’d seen that old jar on his desk plenty of times. Just assumed it was filled with odds and ends. You didn’t realise it was his secret ashtray. 

The sight of him blowing out the billow of smoke is kind of… nice actually. Despite his obvious panic there’s something about it you can’t quite put your finger on. You shake your head. 

“No, don’t worry, I just… didn’t know you smoked?” 

Jake smoked, you could set your watch to his cigarette breaks; they were so precise. But he would always, without fail, go outside. Rain or shine, freezing cold or oppressive heat. He didn’t seem to mind if the lift was broken or not, outside he would go and the butt would go in the bin on the street after. Never on the floor. Jake was a stickler for that, had got into more than one verbal (and physical) fight with strangers who just flicked their fag onto the pavement. 

Marc had smoked, several years ago. But had quit and never touched another one since. It always used to puzzle him when he had the craving for one after not smoking for over a decade. 

Most other ex-smokers he spoke to talked about being revolted by cigarettes once they had fully stopped for a few years. Now that he knew about Jake, and his continuing habit, whenever the urge got too strong he just tapped out and let Jake go for a cigarette. (Marc still argued that smoking was bad for them, while Jake countered that technically Khonshu’s suit healed any damage every time they wore it. Which had led to a very lengthy debate over if Jake’s true reasoning for serving the moon god was so that he didn’t have to quit his nicotine fix.)

They didn’t smoke often, and Jake went more than out of his way to minimise any smell that clung to them. But it meant that you never found it puzzling if they smelt like smoke. It just meant Jake had had one. 

Steven had never mentioned smoking himself, in fact he often scolded Jake for it. 

“I don’t smoke, I mean,” Steven blushed a little, his shoulder slumping. “Well, that’s a lie, innit? I smoke… sometimes?”

“Sometimes?” You repeat with a small smile.

“Sometimes… just sort of,” he shrugs. “Feel the urge sometimes. I used to… before I met Marc and Jake, once or twice a month, just one fag, you know? I hid a packet under the sink.” 

“Under the sink?” You laugh kindly and Steven smiles and nods. 

“Yeah, here,” he gets down off the toilet and points at a little space under the taps. “And then I’d smoke out the window so I didn’t set the alarm off or stink out the place. I tell you, I used to always get confused because sometimes I would smell a bit like smoke, even though I hadn’t touched them in weeks.” He shrugs again. “I thought that’s just what happened.” 

You chuckle. “And you still sneakily have a fag every now and then.” 

He nods and grins bashfully, “every now and then… I know I should be good and go outside like Jake does but… it’s like, part of the ritual now. You know? Stand at an awkward angle and half hang my head out of the window. Wouldn’t feel right otherwise… plus sometimes I just can’t be fucked.” 

You laugh loudly and he smiles, glad that his little joke amused you. 

“Marc and Jake don’t know…” He says shyly. 

You nod and mime zipping your lips and he grins again. 

“Thank you, love.” 

You lean to give him a quick kiss but he pulls back a little.

“Sorry, I mean, I definitely taste like smoke, disgusting, you don’t want that do you? No.” He shakes his head. “I’ll brush my teeth.” 

You screw your face up a little in what Steven at first assumes is agreement at not wanting to kiss him while he tasted of cigarettes. 

You let out a little grumble and take hold of his cheeks, holding him firmly as you place a kiss on his lips. 

Even though the action is brief he does taste like smoke. And it’s kind of… nice again. A strange little spark of heat begins to grow in your belly and suddenly you can’t get the idea of fucking Steven with a cigarette dangling between his lips out of your mind. 

The way you know he would writhe and whimper, biting down on the butt to try his hardest to stop it from slipping out of his mouth. 

He moans low against you as you slide your tongue against his, spreading that smokey flavour across your taste buds. 

“Hmm,” he pulls back just a fraction to speak, even though his hands slide to your hips to pull you closer. “What’s gotten into you, love?” He grins.

“Nothing,” you mumble and kiss down his jaw, running your teeth over his neck and leaving sloppy bites.

Steven shivers, a little gasp of air hitching in his throat as he urges you even closer. You bump against his quickly hardening cock and he groans, bucking his hips forward to rut against you. Kissing his neck was always his weak spot. Practically guaranteed to get him hot under the collar at a second's notice. 

He whines a little as you move away from him for a momentarily, his fingers tighten instantly against you, trying to keep the space between your bodies to a minimum. 

“Here,” you grab at the cigarette packet on top of the cistern, and pull one out before you offer it to him.

Steven raises his eyebrow at you. 

“Just, erm, can you put it in your mouth?” 

He pauses for a second, chewing at his bottom lip nervously. “I don’t want to smoke in front of you love, if I’m messing up my own lungs then-”

“No, no, you don’t have to light it… just…” 

His eyes widen ever so slightly and a small smile pulls at his lips. “You like it, huh?” He teases softly. 

“No.” Heat burns at your skin but you can’t help but laugh lightly. “...yeah.” 

He chuckles and takes the cigarette, nuzzling into your cheek. “Alright, but… let’s not tell Jake about this, yeah?” 

You raise your eyebrow at him this time. “And why is that?” 

“Oh,” Steven shrugs, moving the cigarette between his fingers in an almost hypnotic pattern, “no real reason.” 

“Really?” You grin.

“Hmm,” he smiles playfully, “Jake gets lots of things.”

“Does he?” 

“Yeah… and maybe I want this to be my thing.” He kisses you quickly before he puts the cigarette in his mouth and leans close to your ear. “I bet if I stuck my hand down your trousers my fingers would come back soaking, wouldn’t they?” 

“Steven,” you try to chastise but your voice comes out all whiney and desperate. You can’t take your eyes off the way the cigarette just hangs from the corner of his mouth, bobbing with every word. 

He chuckles, taking it from between his lips so he can kiss you roughly, and hold the back of your neck with his other hand. 

You lick hungrily into his mouth and push him back against the wall, trying to regain some control over yourself and the situation. 

He lets you, in all honesty he always lets you do whatever you wanted, smiling the whole time when you pull back like the cat that got the cream. “Never thought you’d have a smoking kink, love.” He puts the cigarette back in his mouth.

“It’s not a smoking kink,” you scowl playfully and drop to your knees. 

“No?” He teases lightly, pretending to take a long drag. 

“No.” You unbuckle his jeans, pulling down the zip and relishing the sound of his contented sigh as you palm his cock. 

There’s a little wet patch of precum already soaking into his boxers from the tip, a visual cue of how desperate he is despite his quite commendable effort at seeming calm. His dick twitches as you touch him, as you languidly push his trousers and underwear down his hips and take his length in hand. 

“No,” you repeat, “I have a you smoking kink.” You give him a little smile as you look up at him before you run the tip of your tongue along his velvet warm length.

He shivers, letting out a small cry of satisfaction as his eyes close and eyebrows pinch together. The sight of him pressing his head back against the tiles with the cigarette at the edge of his mouth sends a sharp thrill down your spine. 

You lap at his slit, board, flat licks that have him shaking and squirming in no time as you lightly squeeze and pump him from the base. 

He tries to stay still, to let you play and tease at your own pace for as long as possible. But his self control is rapidly dissolving. 

By the time you suck his bulbous head into your mouth he’s practically crawling up the walls. He groans low in his chest, glancing down so he can watch you slowly bob your head back and forth, taking him deeper and deeper each time. 

You moan around him, trying to open your jaw and take him further but he’s so thick it’s nearly impossible. 

Heat burns distractingly at your core and you can’t sit still, shifting on your knees to rub your legs together to try to relieve a fraction of that maddening ache. 

He wants to grab you by the back of the neck and force his cock down your throat, wants to buck and trust and cum so deeply until he spills from your lips. 

Instead he bites his teeth together, almost severing the cigarette in two and claws at the tiles as bliss twists and grows in his stomach. 

You manage to take him a fraction deeper, your throat aching as you pick up the pace, squeezing his thighs and swirling your tongue around his tip as if your life depended on it, as if his pleasure was the only way for you to breathe. 

His stomach muscles clench, balls contract and you can tell he’s painfully close by the little whimpered moans that slip past his lips with every breath. You’re about to-

Suddenly he grabs hold of your chin, pulling you back off him and groaning at the trail of salvia that connects him to your mouth. He pulls you up and into his arms with a rare show of his strength and kisses you deeply, the cigarette falling to the floor. 

“Steven,” you moan, the sound muffled by his lips. 

“Off, off, off,” he mutters, undoing your trousers and pulling off your top and bra. He strips you so fast it makes your head spin, and then he’s sitting on the toilet lid and pulling you down onto his lap to straddle his thighs. 

Your hands fly to his shoulders and you have just enough time to tug his t-shirt over his head before he presses two thick fingers into your entrance. 

You moan, keening as he curls them, the sensation like lightening along your nerves and Steven swears.

“Oh god, you’re so fucking ready for me,” he mumbles, salivating as he sticks his fingers in his mouth and pushes you down onto his needy, weeping cock. His hips instinctively buck up as his tip notches in your entrance, sheathing himself halfway.

You moan, high pitched and throwing your head back as he stretches you deliciously. You barely have a second to adjust before he grabs your hips and forces you all the way down and it’s perfect. So full and hitting so wonderfully deep that you gasp. You can feel your slick gushing out of you, making a mess of him as he bounces you on his cock. 

He groans, eyes glazed over, blurting out fragments of sentences with every thrust. “Can’t believe you like me smokin’ that much, fucking amazing, so wet, squeezing me so tight, ah,” he moans loudly, pushing his forehead against yours and kissing you messily, so hungry for every part of you. 

You gasp against him, meeting his powerful thrusts with your own and chasing that sweet release so desperately. 

“Gonna fucking smoke everyday, become a chain smoker just so I can always have you whining on my cock, every single second, just keep you filled up and- oh shit!” Pleasure cracks into his being, surprising him with its suddenness and intensity. He moans loudly, rutting against you as he pumps you full of his spend. His skin sweaty, his hair clingy to his forehead as his hips slow and he comes down from his high.

Steven looks up at you with dark eyes, “fuck, sorry.” He kisses you sweetly, still breathing hard. 

“It’s okay,” you stroke his head and he preens up into your touch. Your thighs twitch, your need still thudding hard and making you squirm ever so slightly. 

Steven hisses softly at the movement, overstimulation flooding his mind with both pain and pleasure. 

“Sorry, I-”

“Keep moving,” he groans, pressinging his face against your shoulder and lightly biting your skin. “Cum on me.” He mutters, keeping his left arm wrapped around your waist while he snakes his right hand down between your bodies and rolls your clit between his nimble fingers. 

You gasp and whine lightly. Rocking yourself up and into his touch. 

Steven moans again, mouthing at your skin and the wet mess between your legs as you move. He thrusts upwards shallowly, rubbing you in perfect time. 

“Steven,” you pant, squirming as your legs start to spasm, the pleasure so close it’s on the tip of your tongue. 

“That’s it love,” he whispers so softly, “that’s it.” He looks up at you with his large doe eyes, completely enraptured with you in that moment. “You can do it.” 

You cry out, so, so close it’s driving you mad. The pull of his fingers, the rock of his hips, the fact that he’s still hard inside of you and pushing so deep. 

“You can cum for me,” he bites his bottom lip, his voice like silk. “Can’t you?” 

Pleasure spikes up and overtakes you, blossoming out and hitting every nerve. You moan, quieting yourself ever so slightly by pressing your lips to his and kissing him messily. 

Steven echoes the sound as you cum, your walls squeezing him so tightly and sending an aftershock of deep satisfaction through his veins. 

You breathe heavily as you calm, and he hugs you tightly, grinning and still looking up at you with those beautiful eyes. 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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[rafescurtainbangz]

Proactive Type of Person - Rafe Cameron Two Shot - Part 1 of 2

Perv/Frat!Rafe x Female!Reader

+18 Minor DNI

Spoilers in the Warning: swearing, Stalking, pet names, degradation, namecalling, public masturbation, dark!rafe, mean!rafe, perv!rafe, mentions of cum play, mentions of unprotected P in V, ownership kink, mentions of rough oral (if I missed tags I'm sorry)

Edited lightly (sorry I've been in my head about my writing lately so she's kinda rough tbh)

3.8k

Part 1 will be from Rafe's POV Part 2 will be from the Female Reader’s

Rafe's POV:

Part 1

“So, class. What does its structure contribute to the poem “Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night?” The professor drones on, sliding her reading glasses down her nose as she looks out onto the lecture hall. I shrink in my seat slightly, along with the other boys, doing my best to avoid her gaze. 

Required reading, my ass. Did she honestly expect us to read this shit on a Thursday night? Barely drug my ass outta bed for class. Thank fuckin’ god. I relax in my seat as one of the front-row nerds saves the basic population who doesn’t give a fuck. 

“Repetition. The poet used it to stress his key theme for his readers.” 

I nod, scribbling a little line of nothingness on my paper, keeping up with the facade. That shit went in one ear and out the next. “Hey, Cameron.” My frat brother elbows me on the side. “You good for the kegs?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. What else can daddy get you?” I sneer as I roll my eyes at Billy, who laughs and scoffs. “I get paid back first, plus 10%. Get me a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle; I ain’t drinkin’ Coors, and I ain’t pickin’ that shit up either.” 

“Thanks, daddy,” he responds in a breathy voice, snatching the wad of cash off my hands. “We need ten kegs between the Deltas and Phi Mu… You good for that-”

“Fuck you, ‘Am I good for that’?” I cut him short through a breathy laugh. “You’re holdin’ the cash in your hands, bitch. Stop askin’. Add an extra 5% for questionin’ me-”

“Rafe.” My stomach sinks as my professor’s eyes zero in on mine. “Am I interrupting something?” The old bird cocks an eyebrow, her annoyance visible, matching my own. 

“No,” I answer simply, crossing my arms across my chest and relaxing at my desk.

“Splendid. I assume you know the answer then. Correct?” She challenges me, trying to catch me off guard. A smirk pulls on her lips as she does just that. Cunt. 

“I agree.” 

“The key insight about death in the poem is, ‘I agree’?” She belittles. I stare at her blankly, blinking a few times to let her know she’s wasting her time. She's not gettin’ shit out of me. I’ve got an A in this class, bitch. What’re you gonna do about it? 

She chuckles weakly, shaking her head at my resistance. “Am I wrong, ma’am? I have a bit of conversational anxiety… If you’d like to repeat the question, I’d love to try again,” I ask through a shit-eating smirk, letting my sarcasm drip all the way through, irritating her even more.

“Anyone else?” She invites in a shrill voice as she dismisses me, looking around the room to find another. Some of my frat brothers snicker in the back, making the professor’s features even more rigid. “Miss. Y/n?” Her demeanor changes instantly, shaking off my defiance, moving on to another one of her perfect pets. 

Who’s that?

Holy shit. I swallow hard, feeling my mouth dry up as I see her. She twiddles her fluffy pink pen, acknowledging the teacher with a smile. Y/n? Jesus fuckin’ Christ. How have I never seen her before? I watch as a football player shuffles down the row of the lecture hall. My question, answered in a moment as his broad shoulders cut off my line of sight. No. I stretch back, cranking my neck to get her in my sights again. 

“The key insight’s that death should be fought against, even though it is inevitable.” Her beautiful voice fills the lecture hall like a song. The teacher smiles at her again, praising y/n for her correct answer. Y/n grins and nods, averting her eyes as she catches the room’s focus. Her cheeks blush the prettiest shade of pink, matching her glossy lips. 

Those lips… I lick my own, thinking about the way they would look wrapped around my cock, drool running down her chin as she deepthroats my dick. I’d grip that little ponytail like a handlebar, using her mouth like a toy. I chuckle at myself, still surprised that my mind went there almost instantly, but I know myself too well. I am who I am.

Y/n looks so goddamn innocent… Not for long. She’s a slut for praise. I can tell. I can work with that. 

My eyes work lower, following the curve of her cleavage in her low-cut shirt. Fuck, I can't wait to get her on top; watch ‘em bounce in my face. I'm gonna cum all over her perfect rack. Tiddie fuck her while she cries for daddy’s dick. Smear that shit- “Earth to Rafe?” I grit my teeth as I'm torn from my fantasy. “Buddy, you good?” Billy chuckles, his voice taunting as he follows my focus to her. “Mmm… Y/n,” he sighs blissfully. “So fuckin’ hot, bro. She's a Phi Mu girl.”

“No shit?”

“Mhmm… Transferred from LSU. Smart, funny, sexy… But she's mine, buddy. Aight? Been layin’ down groundwork all semester.” He elbows me playfully, chuckling to himself, actually believing his own words. 

“All semester, and you haven't made a move?” I spit, eyes rolling in his direction. This whole conversation is laughable. Has he been sitting on this all semester? Really? She was mine the second I looked at her, buddy. You’re done. 

“Long game,” he defends himself. 

“Long game?” I scoff. “Doesn’t sound like you got any game at all...”

“Hey. Fuck off… I know she wants me. Her bedroom faces mine and she doesn't even close the curtains when she changes anymore; she texts me all the time. See?” He gloats as he thumbs through his phone. I don't even bother myself with the semantics. Why the fuck does that shit matter? What’s he gettin’ at? “I'm gonna help ‘em after class. They have some car wash fundraiser downtown.” 

Is that so? “I like the sound of that,” I smile, feeling my cock growing stiff in my jeans at the thought of seeing her in next to nothing, wet and soapy no less. 

“You can’t just take her from me, Rafe,” Billy mutters in annoyance. A laugh rumbles in my chest as I take in his empty words. “I'm not fuckin’ around. She's mine.” 

My head turns slowly in his direction as he bends in mine. I mean, the guy’s big, but I'm bigger. He can fight, but he's not willing to see that shit through. Billy’s got that moral compass that urges him to stop where I couldn't care less. And he knows it. 

He balls his hands up in fists at his desk, jaw tightening as he does his best to intimidate me one last time. My boy’s a bitch. 

“Mine.”

++++++++

I study her movements as she glides through the halls. Her hair bounces with each step brushing along her backpack, half-hiding her perfect ass. Her bum shakes a little as she walks, just a tease for me. Y/n slight skirt grazes just a few inches below her ass, leaving her bare legs on display. 

I wonder what they’d look like over my shoulder… Spread wide on my bed as I devoured her perfect pussy. Damn. I bet she makes some pretty sounds. I can’t wait to hear that, to see her face, as she squirts all over my mouth and cock. 

Where are you going, pretty girl?

She hooks a left, heading toward the coffee shop. I continue to follow my girl, watching as she strolls inside. Y/n walks toward the line, stalling next to the case of pastries, eyeing the bottom. Do it for daddy, baby. C’mon. There you go… She drops down, surveying the options. That goddamn ass… Does she know I’m watching? She’s gotta know. The paisley material tugs higher on her thighs, a peek of her round ass poking out the bottom.

She stands up again, taking another step, moving with the traffic flow. Y/n reaches into her purse, pulling out her phone. She smiles as she looks at the screen. Billy Hargrove 💕. I feel my heart pick up pace, my breathing quickening; rage boils inside me. 

I gave him an order. This shit’s not up to him. I roll the tension out of my neck, fingers twisting into fists of my own. Where’s the fucking loyalty? She bites her bottom lip and smiles at the message, making me physically ill. 

I’ve got distracted by her… Say somethin’ to make her forget about that. 

“Uh, hey,” I rasp. Y/n continues to type up a little message. “Y/n?” I reach out, resting my hand on her arm. 

“Oh, hi… Umm, Rafe?” She says my name, making everything stand still. I look down at the beautiful eyes and soft, pouty lips, the corners of which curl into a sweet smile. 

“Uh, yeah,” I answer, trying to level my tone. “We’re in class together.”

“Yeah… She’s kind of a bitch. Right?” Y/n asks weakly as her eyes soften on mine, showing me pity like my feelings might have been hurt by that little exchange between the professor and me.

“Yeah, she sucks,” I laugh lightly, tossing my head down in fake shame. “The boys and I got a little rowdy last night. I didn’t read that shit. Did you? I mean, obviously-” 

“On my way to class,” she giggles as she looks around playfully for our professor. 

My mouth falls into an open smile. “Naughty girl. Coast is clear, by the way,” I rasp through a little laugh. 

“Good,” Y/n sighs as she tucks some hair behind her ear.  

“You’re really smart.” I praise, watching her cheeks blushing again, this time closer than before, making my heart bang in my chest.

“Thank you. Oh, umm, you're a Delta. Right?” She asks, solidifying her answer as she eyes the embroidery on my polo. 

“I am. And you’re Phi Mu?” Y/n grins as she nods in reply. “I’m headed over to your car wash after this.”

“Awesome. Yeah, Lyndsey was worried that the University might question where the money came from if we made anything off selling beer tonight.”

“A cover-up?” I smile down at her as I stuff my hands in my jeans.

“Mhmm,” she breathes. “The party’s gonna be huge. Do you think we’ll get busted?”

I chuckle at the sweet nativity of her question. “‘Course we will. Over 500 students in one place… But it’s a block party. Right? So they won’t be able to pinpoint anybody. Not usin’ the frat's money directly. Cash. The boys are gonna pay me back as they sell cups. Untraceable.”

“Aww. That’s so nice of you,” she smiles. Her demeanor hasn’t faltered since we’ve spoken. She doesn’t seem to care about the material shit; my Breitling watch, the gold rings on my fingers. Her face didn’t light up when I dropped the fact that I would buy beer for the masses. She just said it was nice… Fuck, she’s perfect. 

“I try… But, if we get busted, I'll blame it on some beautiful Phi girl I know.” 

She gasps playfully, smacking me in the chest. “You wouldn’t!” Everything tenses in my body as I fight back my arousal, covering the growing excitement in my slacks with my notebook. 

Y/n looks over my shoulder, catching the girl's eyes behind me as she tells us to move forward. “Sorry,” Y/n sighs apologetically, clearing the open space between us and the register. Y/n steps up to the counter, ordering a latte and a muffin before reaching into her purse.

“Oh, shit. No. Sorry! Let me,” I breathe as I hurry to her side. “I’ll pay for whatever she’s havin’ and a coffee for me: one cream, one sugar. Thank you.”

“Wow. Thank you, Rafe. You didn’t need to do that,” she coos.

“No problem, y/n.”

Gifts... That’s what my girl likes.

Well, shit. She’s gonna need a grand gesture. I can sneak into her room tonight. Check the essentials: dress size, music taste; the little things she enjoys. 

I'll take a look at her nightstand. How could I not? Gotta know what she uses to please herself so I know what I’m working with and what it takes to get her there. I want to know her better than she knows herself. 

I follow along, trying to keep my eyes on her face, but I can’t help but roam her body. I've never seen anything like it, never seen anything so perfect for me. I never wanted anything so bad.

The barista walks over, setting down my coffee. I suck my teeth, regretting my choice, knowing if I got the same shit as her, I could have stayed. But I shouldn’t. “I’ll come by. Yeah? Don’t kill me… I gotta big ass truck, and she’s dirty as shit.”

“No worries,” she smiles sweetly. “I’ll see you there, Rafe. Oh, and thanks for the coffee again.” She reaches out, resting her hand on my arm. 

“Of course, sweetheart.” I test a pet name, watching her smile widen. Just gorgeous.

I step away, walking towards the door. Looking over my shoulder as Y/n pulls out her phone, that same smile for Billy setting on her perfect lips. 

He’s fucking dead. 

++++++++

I pull up toward the parking lot, falling into the line of cars; a caravan of dicks with their windows already rolled down. Fuckin’ dogs. I lean out as well, surveying the scene looking for her. Jesus fuckin’ Christ. I watch the gaggle of girls prancing around in their bikinis, excitement building as I frantically look for her. 

My heart skips as I see her sporting the most clothes, donning yet the sluttiest outfit of them all. She’s an absolute fuckin’ tease in her cut-off jean shorts and white t-shirt, soaked with water. The material clings to her curves, teasing me with her little triangle top, gathered slightly, barely covering her tits. 

She leans over and reaches into the bucket, pulling out a sponge before ringing out the soap. A guy rolls down the window of his Mercedes, bending his neck to watch as she washes the side. I can already tell where this is goin’. He smirks, watching her ass as she leans down, cleaning the rear fender. “Aww, sweetheart,” he soughs, “Uhh…You missed a spot.” Y/n smiles sweetly, lowering to where she was before, making me huff out an aggravated breath. 

Her friend walks over with a hose, spraying down the suds that y/n left behind. Tori Clarence, a late-night Delta regular. She says something that makes Y/n laugh. Y/n claps back, teasing her sister through a wicked smile. Tori lifts the gun, spraying y/n with a stream of water, hitting her directly on her tits.

Y/n gasps as her shirt turns from milky white to practically see-through, the chilly water running down her perfect body, making her nipple hard. She panics to get warm, reaching for the bottom of her shirt. Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Holy fuck. She pulls it over her body: soft skin, perfect boobs, and wet hair. Little lines of water cascade down her bare skin, rounding her curves catching on the denim of her shorts. Her eyes fall down her body, eyeing her damp state. 

“Just do it, baby girl,” I moan, watching as she pinches her top button. I grab mine as well, tugging it open with her. I hiss at the sensation of my rock-hard cock in my hand, feeling some relief. This is the first time I’ve touched myself all day. I was edging myself as I studied her Instagram and TikTok page, saving my favorites to my phone. When I saw her in the parking lot, I swear I could have cum untouched. 

I start to fist my cock as she leans over the trunk, her body perfectly positioned like I’m taking her from the back. Goddamn. I’d snake my rough hand up her soft skin, following the curve of her arched spine, drifting into her hair. I’d pull it back, feeling her pussy clench around my big dick. I’d spank her, cracking her tight little ass with the palm of my hand, leaving her red and bruised. Just one of the many ways I’d mark my girl. “Fuck, Y/n,” I moan her name as heat radiates through my body. 

She walks along the side of the next car, letting me see her little triangle top: light blue, thin material, the blush of nipples visible. I roll my hand over my tip, whimpering at the sensation, imagining myself hitting the back of her throat as tears pool in her pretty, innocent eyes. Y/n looking up at daddy, mascara running down her cheeks as she throats me like the slut I know she can be. I’d hold her head in my hands, using her mouth to stroke my cock. My perfect little toy... 

Fuck. I got a Fleshlight with her name on it. I’m gonna use those pictures when I get home… Gotta get myself ready for tonight. She has no clue what she’s in for. What I wouldn’t give to have my cock in her hand instead of my own. I’d make her jerk me off as she pleaded for my dick deep in that pretty tight cunt. I bet she’s so goddam wet. So, so fuckin’ tight. 

“I know, baby. Daddy’s gonna give you his dick. Don’t worry,” I mumble, feeling my breathing start to increase with my pleasure. I thrust into my hand, fucking up into my fist as I watch her undo the loosened side strings of her bikini, tightening it again.

I eye the sign, catching the time. 11-4 PM. Yes… They’ll be here all afternoon. Just need to make a pit stop. Grab a pair of panties. Whatever I can get. I need to taste her. Stuff ‘em in my mouth as I study my prize. My hips stutter as I feel myself about to bust, imagining just how sweet she’ll taste. I work myself quicker, taking hold of my steering wheel as I rut into my hand. 

‘Rafe. Rafe. Rafe.’ I can hear it now. See my little whore creamin’ on my cock as I give it to her over and over again. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby girl. Where do you want it?”

‘Deep in my pussy… Please, baby’. She’ll whimper and beg, pleading to get stuffed full. I’m gonna brush my fingers over her swollen clit, making her gush all over my cock and thighs, wetting everything around us until I’m pumping her full of my cum. 

I'll watch it drip out of her puffy pink hole, fucking it right back in, cleaning the rest off with my tongue before spitting it in her mouth.

My perfect cumslut.

I need it drippin’ out of her for days. Watchin’ my little angel walk into class, knowing just how good I dicked her down. I'll watch her from my seat as she cleans the little cum tear off her inner thigh, slipping it between her lips as her eyes flick to mine, sucking it clean.

No one will have her again. “She was made for me.” The thought alone has my hand faltering; jaw falling slack. My stomach sinks, eyes doubling as she looks in my direction, matching my gaze. “Fuckkk…” My eyes roll back in my skull, toes curling, head thrown to the headrest as I cum harder than I ever have. Shit. I don’t even care if she saw. If she’s any girl of mine, she’d want to see it anyway. 

My dirty little whore. 

I look down at my jizz covered hand and lap. Goddamnit. I clear the gap between my car and the next before ripping off my shirt and wiping away my mess. I flip my hat on, snagging my protein shaker bottle from the passenger’s seat floor as I try to disguise the real reason I’m covered head to toe in sweat. I do my best to control my breathing, still running high from my climax, hit with the post-nut clarity that she may have seen it all. 

She looks happy to see me… Real happy. Y/n smiles, making my heart race again as I meet her gorgeous eyes. She greets me happily, trotting up to my truck. “How are you doin’, sweetheart?” 

She dunks her hand into the soapy bucket, grabbing a sponge. “Livin’ the dream,” y/n smiles, moving closer than expected. I take in her perfume, already so familiar to me, the smell of it revving me right up again. 

“Sorry. I’m a sweaty mess,” I sigh. Her gaze falls down my body, studying me with a bashful smile. 

“Just got done with a workout?” She asks. 

“Mhmm…” I smile and nod in reply. “Pay now? Pay later?” I invite as I snag my wallet. 

“Now,” she sings. “Donation based, so whatever you’re willing to give.” I thumb through my wallet, plucking out $200. 

“Rafe…” She breathes, taking it off my hands. “Are you sure? This is a little much.” Y/n looks down at the cash in her hands before meeting my eyes again. 

“Positive,” I assure. 

“Well, that is very nice, Rafe Cameron,” she coos. Y/n uses my last name, making my stomach drop. She wouldn’t have known my last name unless she did some digging. I didn’t give it to her; I never said anything in class before today. She must have looked me up on Instagram or Snapchat… Maybe she asked one of her sisters about me.

I fight off a wide smile as she gets started on the car. She takes her time, putting in a little more effort than the cars before. She walks to the front of the cab, leaning over, breast jiggling as she swirls and circles the sponge on the hood. She rises a little higher on her tippy toes, unable to reach the rest.

“Here you go, babe.” Her friend sets down a ladder for Y/n. She bends over once more, the angle alone making my cock rock hard again as I imagine us fucking raw. Tonight… I'll bend her over on the bathroom counter, just like she is now, the bass of the party on the street not even loud enough to cover her cries and my moans. I’ll pound into her as the slaps of our skin fill the bathroom. Her eyes shift to mine, catching my stare. She doesn’t drop focus, keeping her eyes on me as she continues to scrub. A smirk spreads on her lips, mirroring my own.

Baby girl…

Y/n steps down from the ladder before walking to her friend, grabbing the hose off her hands; taking her job instead. She sprays down the truck, cleaning off the suds. The light breeze catches the flow of water, sending little beads of it flying, catching on her perfect skin. My mouth waters as I imagine licking the glaze of it off her skin. Fuck… I don't think I can take this. 

“Alright, Mr. Cameron. You’re all set,” she smiles as she eyes her work. I bite my lip and nod. 

“Thank you, princess. See you tonight.”

I pull forward, watching her from my wing mirror as she greets the next car. Her excitement fades as she welcomes the next. Good fuckin’ girl.

Next stop, Phi Mu.

A/N: Writing Part 2 Soon :)

Tags: @voyeurmunson@babygorewhore@beautifuldisaster88@gri959@rafedrewandjjs@redhead1180@xo-billy-hargrove-ox@romaescapes@cutielando@imbabycowboy@wearemadeofstardust0@drewstarkeyslut@babyraven@juniebugg@humanvampire13@akashababy@dckweed@ashamedtobewhitemanswhore27@marahgubler@joannamuns9n@h34rtsformilli@jayla@randymeeksistheloml@waywarsoul113

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[ancuninfiles]

Euphorbia

GIF by @ishaslife

3.4k words - F/M - Astarion x F! Reader - 18+

Work summary: Three days of relentless arousal toward the opposite sex were the result of confusing purslane with euphorbia—an error unbecoming of even a novice druid, as well as a self-taught one like yourself. Naturally, with your luck, those three days couldn’t be spent quietly in seclusion. Instead, you were abducted by a Mindflayer ship and infected with one of their parasites.

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮•:•☾☼☽•:•✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

You were panting, squirming, and nearly whining—it surprised you that he hadn’t killed you yet with the fuss you made. You couldn't help it, though, and you felt horrible for subjecting a stranger to such behaviour, whether he was murderous or not.

“You're quite the feral thing, aren't you? Perhaps I should just put you out of your misery—hm?” He quipped, and you felt a light brushing of what felt like his lips on your throat.

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮•:•☾☼☽•:•✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

Tags: shameless smut, aphrodisiacs, sex pollen vibes, outdoor sex, cunnilingus, P in V sex, praise kink, blink and you'll miss it degradation, astarion has a big dick, mildly dubious consent, fingering, creampie, vampire bites, no beta

MASTERLIST (Other works)

Read on AO3 for full tag list (recommended)

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮•:•☾☼☽•:•✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

Three days of relentless arousal toward the opposite sex were the result of confusing purslane with euphorbia—an error unbecoming of even a novice druid, as well as a self-taught one like yourself. Naturally, with your luck, those three days couldn’t be spent quietly in seclusion. Instead, you were abducted by a Mindflayer ship and infected with one of their parasites.

Fortunately, the nautiloid primarily housed women among the living, except for a cambion who was easy enough to avoid.

Now that the ship had crashed, you could only pray to the gods that you didn't encounter a man, for fear of embarrassing yourself in these unfamiliar Faerünian lands. From the dead fishermen and barrels on the beach, you suspected there was a settlement nearby, but you decided to stay away for a few days to be safe. After all, you knew how to live off the land and could all but hope that you wouldn't turn into a Mindflayer.

It was unfortunate that the cleric had been knocked out cold on the beach; otherwise, you would have asked her for help. The gods had not been kind to you in the past two days.

So, you fought the intellect devourers on your own, an easy feat in which you were left with only one scratch; perhaps your luck was beginning to change.

You waltzed through the nautiloid, looting what you could and staying vigilant to avoid any more unwanted encounters. Exiting the crashed ship, you headed up a dirt hill, watching the ground and trying not to trip as you went.

“Ah, at last, another soul.”

The voice, likely a man's judging by the tenor, stopped you in your tracks. A primal heat lanced through you as you hesitantly raised your eyes to meet his—though you weren't sure if it was solely the euphorbia or perhaps trepidation. 

Oh no, this wasn’t just any man; it was a beautiful man with perfectly groomed hair and an alluring, herbaceous scent. His jawline was sharp and his eyes, piercing—all ingredients in a dangerously intoxicating and irresistible recipe.

“Hurry, I've got one of those brain things cornered,” he said, requesting your assistance. “You can kill it, can't you? Like you killed the others?”

As desire surged through your lower abdomen, you knew you had to leave—now. You spun on your heel and, without a word, started walking away from the gorgeous elven man, using every bit of willpower within you.

In your mind, you pictured what his length might look like, and how it would feel if he released inside you—depraved thoughts that you ought to keep to yourself. You had to get far away from this man, as quickly as possible.

“I was hoping for a kind soul, but, not to worry,” was all you heard before he grabbed your waist, and you toppled to the ground with him at your back as he held a dagger to your throat. His groin was surreptitiously pressed against your bottom, and he held your body firmly against his, hooking an arm under and around both your upper limbs and ribcage—effectively immobilizing you

Surely, this was the worst-case scenario. Though, if he killed you, it would at least relieve the shameful yearning in your nethers—a yearning that was becoming stronger the tighter he grasped.

You clenched your teeth as you panted, attempting to stifle any salacious sounds that might come unbidden. However, you couldn't help but squirm under his grasp, causing his arresting grip to tighten and, consequently, your hole to quiver. Whether it was to escape or to attain friction where you needed it most, you didn't know, as you were irrevocably enthralled by the plant medicine coursing through your veins.

“Shh—not a word, not if you want to keep that darling neck of yours,” he purred, the low timbre of his voice oscillating through your core.

“Please—let me go. I'm not myself, and you don't want to be around me when I’m like this,” you protested, your nipples hardening as your breasts rested above his forearm.

“Don’t lie—I saw you on the ship, didn't I? Nod,” he argued, his breath brushing on your ear causing you to crane your head back in the dirt and onto his shoulder.

You were panting, squirming, and nearly whining—it surprised you that he hadn’t killed you yet with the fuss you made. You couldn't help it, though, and you felt horrible for subjecting a stranger to such behaviour, whether he was murderous or not.

“You're quite the feral thing, aren't you? Perhaps I should just put you out of your misery—hm?” He quipped, and you felt a light brushing of what felt like his lips on your throat before a sudden painful violet aura encapsulated you both, halting all actions and demanding attention.

Visions of dark alleyways and the Baldurian nightlife flooded your mind. These were the memories of the elven man who held you to his chest—memories of hiding in the shadows.

The aura died down, leaving you confused as you tried to catch your breath in the stranger's arms.

“What was that?” He asked.

“I think it was the parasite, it—connected us,” you guessed, panting as your hips shot back against his groin unbidden. To your surprise, he was hard. 

Fuck, when did that happen?

“Hm.” He pressed his pelvis into your bottom experimentally, “I saw your naughty little thoughts, my dear,” he whispered directly in your ear.

You tried to stifle a moan but you were unsuccessful, as your will was whittling away, bit by bit. 

He dropped his blade to place his hand on the inside of your upper thigh, where he gripped sensually. You tipped your head forward as your face contorted in pleasure and your eyes began to water—you were vehemently craving this man's merciful touch.

“Shh— I've got you. I only need your name and your permission. Let us help each other find release—hm?” He crooned, as he moved his hand from your thigh to your waistband where he teased his fingers under it.

Gods, this was a horrible idea, dangerous even—but he smelt so fresh and his sonorous voice felt as if it were caressing you inside and out. Your will was faltering, and if you died on this endeavour, you thought you might at least die while having fun.

“My name's—hm—Tav,” you spoke, a needy whine breaking your sentence. 

“Astarion, pleasure to meet you.” He pushed his hard, clothed cock between your bottom cheeks, eliciting a moan from you. “Now, darling, tell me what you want, and it shall be yours.”

Your mind was racing, the only thing you could think of was how big his member felt as he pressed it to your backside, and how you wanted to be completely taken by him here and now—nothing else mattered.

“I want to be ravished, here—on the cliffside,” you admitted, uninhibitedly, a sweat forming on your brow.

Astarion clicked his tongue. “You poor, sweet thing. You want to be filled by a stranger so desperately. Not to worry, I can help you—if you're a very good girl.”

He released his grip at last, and you couldn't help but whine in dissent. His grasp was soothing, after all.

“Tut tut—how else are we going to get undressed?” He chastised before standing to lift his shirt above his head, his muscles rippling with the movement.

His scent became stronger as he folded his shirt and placed it on a patch of grass. He put his thumbs under his waistband and started pulling down his strays.

You watched him raptly as you began tugging down your own, along with your underwear as you sat on the ground. His glistening hardness sprang free and it was most definitely going to be the largest you'd taken before. Perhaps the gods were going to spare you, after all. 

He cavalierly folded his pants and placed them with his shirt before removing his shoes. He knelt to you and slid his hand down your shin before removing one shoe and then the other.

You came up to your elbows as you simultaneously watched and felt him snake his hands up your thighs in tandem, experimentally squeezing your hips before beginning to fuss with the tie on your shirt.

He made eye contact with you as he finished unlacing your top with one dexterous hand and gripping your ribcage with the other. He pulled your unlaced shirt apart, thoughtfully, as it rested on the ground around your elbows. Before he could finish the job, he dove into your breast with his mouth, sensually nipping and sucking on your pebble while he held your other breast, toying with your nipple with his thumb.

You wanted to throw your head back in pleasure, but you couldn't take your eyes off of Astarion. The way his tongue flicked on your mound was sending waves of fire through your body, and you thought you might cum from just the sight of his reverence.

His mouth disconnected from you with a pop, a string of saliva connecting him to you. “Apologies—your body is so beautiful, I just couldn't help but have a taste,” he purred as he thumbed your now wet pebble.

Your thoughts were muddy with desire, which made speaking difficult. All you could manage was a whiney “Thank you,” as he helped you take the rest of your shirt off.

How lucky you were that the man you encountered seemed to be a gentleman. He could have easily been a brute, and in your state, you're not sure if you'd be able to resist either way. 

Astarion descended to your core with his face, licking a thick and soothing stripe through your folds and causing you to arch your back. As soon as his tongue made contact with your clit, it sent an electric pulse through your womb.

“Delicious,” he exclaimed, and you watched him intently as he grabbed your thighs and began sucking on your clit, groaning into it like a man starved of his favourite meal.

His pace on your bud was consistent, he must have been practiced because he was bringing you to your peak already—either that, or the euphorbia was working its cruel forbidden magic.

You clenched around nothing; your body felt too empty—it yearned to be filled. Fingers, cock, toys, anything to soothe the burning need that now caused you to keen in pleasure.

Astarion laughed a low rumble in his chest at your cry, continuing his work on your nub with his sinful tongue.

“Please—Astarion,” you supplicated, unable to fully express your need as his laps quickened.

He rose, replacing his tongue with two digits that rubbed taut circles—the pace matching that of his tongue. “Please, what?” He asked, a roguish grin painted on his face.

You groaned through gritted teeth at his toying, as your brows knitted together. You wished he could just read your mind as he did before, as your words were caught in your throat.

Tensing, you were close, and as if he could sense it, he slowed his pace, not allowing you to reach your end.

“Please, what?” He rasped.

The nerve.

Your vision was becoming foggy, and you felt like you might faint if you didn’t reach fulfillment soon. You tried one last time to speak, managing, “Inside,” through gasps of air, though you could only hope that he was satisfied with your plea.

He did not respond, but you could feel his fingers as they parted your lips below. This was an action that would typically embarrass you—hells, all of this was—but your logic felt irrelevant. 

All that mattered was the way his tongue felt when he continued and the way his two fingers felt as they plunged into your hole. He pumped languidly with curved digits, repeatedly hitting your sweet spot and causing you to sob with ecstasy.

The combination of his fingers fucking you and his tongue passionately playing with your bud was creating a feeling similar to falling within your body. Surges of rhapsody lanced through you as you approached your peak. Astarion growled beastially from his depths into your quim, and it was enough to push you over the edge as you quivered around his merciful fingers.

He continued his worship as you rode out your orgasm and tried to catch your breath. You couldn't help but be filled with gratitude for this man—he could have easily used your body for his own pleasure, but instead, he put yours first.

However, as soon as the fire faded, another was lit and you were aching for release once more. He removed his fingers and face from your channel and you pouted, but he grinned devilishly at your frustration.

Soon enough, he climbed atop you and between your legs. Astarion clicked his tongue. “You poor girl—if only we had at least a blanket for you to lie on,” he crooned before leaning down to kiss you. At first, his lips were closed, but then he added more passion, attempting to part your lips with his. You submitted, allowing each other to delve into one another's maws with fervour.

He groaned into your mouth as you felt his tip tease your entrance—you certainly did not care about the dirt on your back now. He kissed down your jaw to your neck as he inserted his length just enough to make you plead for more.

“Would you mind if I bit you, darling? I only need a taste—I swear,” he asked as his lips brushed your throat, his words, laced with desperation.

His words confused you—you felt too befuddled to comprehend the entire consequence of accepting his request. Additionally, if allowing him to bite you meant that you'd be speared on his hardness at last—well—you'd do anything he asked of you.

You were able to hum your assent, and his hips thrust into you, filling you fully. You weren't sure if you could even fit him entirely as he stretched you more than anyone ever had. 

Though his entry was painless, his bite was not. It took you by surprise, and you scolded yourself internally for not thinking through what he said. You knew that some people had interesting kinks, but to bite hard enough to draw blood was. . .

Not a kink, but a diet.

Astarion, the man who was fucking you oh so heavenly into the earth, was a vampire. Not only that, but also he was now draining you of your lifeblood.

But, fuck, it felt so good; the way he was slowly rutting into you as you adjusted to his size. Even the pain of his bite faded into a throbbing numbness as he brought his hand to the back of your head and pulled it towards him. 

For some reason, your vulnerability and feebleness compared to his dominance and power only served to stir your desire more. You would let yourself be completely consumed, utterly devoured just because it felt right. 

As if it wasn't enough stimulation already, Astarion’s cock was seemingly growing within you the more he imbibed. His thrusts were slow and purposeful as if he were trying not to hurt you. He would pull out nearly all the way, only to stuff you moments later repetitively. 

Rolling his hips, the stroke of his thrusts lessened, as he converted to fully sheathing himself, twirling his pelvis teasingly, and then pulling out mere centimetres before repeating these careful movements again and again. It was as if he was trying to balance his focus evenly on both his meal and his veneration.

However, the corners of your vision were becoming spotty and black, signifying your demise. You could all but choke out a moan while your arms lay limply beside you. This was it— you, a willing victim, were going to be exsanguinated by a vampire.

I'd probably turn into a mind flayer, anyway, you thought.

Whether it be by a miracle or pure chance, Astarion seized his bite, catching his breath as he stilled inside you. Moaning, he pressed the flat of his tongue against your neck as he caught his breath and tidied your wounds.

“Sorry—It seems I was over-eager,” he apologized with sincerity, still craning his head into your shoulder where he placed a few chaste kisses.

Your hands and feet tingled, accompanied by an overall weakness and lightheadedness—a feeling similar to the high of certain smokable herbs in your druidic practice. Your familiarity with these physical symptoms brought you comfort; you knew you were okay, his apology as reassurance. 

How could you feel unsafe beneath a creature who could have easily killed you, or worse, but instead, he has continuously provided sacred relief. This was no mere monster using your body, this was a man seeking his own version of mercy through you—through your ambrosia.

He lifted his torso from yours, yet he maintained your lower entanglement, gripping your bottom and hoisting your pelvis to fuck at the right angle. His body was glistening and his hair was damp with sweat. With knitted brows and crimson dripping from the side of his maw, he watched your body undulate as he speared you repeatedly—a shakey groan tearing through him.

Suddenly, Astarion sucked on his index and middle finger, coating them in his saliva before placing them on your swollen nub and rubbing taut circles while he rutted—causing you to keen once more with an arched back. 

A low and throaty chuckle seeped from him as he smirked at your response to his reverence. “Sweet girl—you want to be so full of my seed, don't you?”

Your cheeks were wet due to crying from the overwhelming drug-induced pleasure combined with Astarion's sheer skill as he worked you toward your climax.

“Uhuh,” you whined, desperate for release.

“I thought so,” he clicked his tongue, “You're doing so well—just stay still.”

You had not noticed before but you had been squirming a bit, which likely confused him, making him unsure of your needs.

How could someone make check-ins sound so—sexy?

You tried your best to relax your body, though your lower muscles tensed as he spat on your hole while he fucked into it.

“That's a good girl—cum for me.”

His words were enough to send your orgasm ripping through you like a violent quake as he rubbed your clit vehemently. You fluttered on his girth, and you felt so terribly full with him inside you. 

Astarion hummed deeply at the feeling of your climax, biting his lip to seemingly stifle an undignified moan. “Very good—now for your reward,” he praised.

Removing his hand from your folds, he cleaned your juices from his digits with closed eyes, as if savouring the flavour. His pace picked up as he removed his fingers from his mouth and effortlessly grabbed your lower cheeks for leverage. 

The daylight shone on his toned chest, refracting golden hues off of his porcelain skin, as the sun seemed significantly lower than it was when you began your tryst.

His muscles flexed as he pumped into you rapidly—wet, salacious sounds emanating off of your divine entanglement.

Your eyes met his, his brows canted up as his mouth fell agape—desperation painting his expression as his pace became ragged and uncontrolled.

At last, he spilled inside you, sheathing himself fully as he coated your womb with his essence. Huffing, his shoulders melted down as he watched your combined juices leak around him while he rocked shallowly into your swollen folds. 

His touch on your hips was cool and soothing, and you began to regain lucidity after your last orgasm—though you knew it would only be temporary.

“Your blood—it was—amazing,” he exclaimed through breaths. “I feel—happy—and curiously aroused.”

Oh, no—the euphorbia.

With your remaining clarity, you spoke, “You might be feeling—the effects of a drug I accidentally took,” you say, a huff of air breaking your sentence, “euphorbia.”

“Well,” he said before snapping his hips into you. “We might be here all night, then, won't we?” He rasped with a roguish grin and blown-out pupils before lifting you to sit on his length while he sat on his heels. “Let's hope nobody chooses this path this evening.”

You wrapped your arms around him, whining your agreement as he took you once again, though you were far past caring about being caught.

↓˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮•:•☾𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬☽•:•✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖↓

Notes: Firstly, I'd like to thank you all for your continued support as I take on this new, enriching hobby of writing smut LOL. I've learned a lot since my first work, and I continue to learn as I receive constructive feedback and continuously do my own research.

Secondly, I just wanted to add that under no circumstance should anyone take advantage of you, specifically sexually. This is fiction, and it's sexy because it's not real.

Also, during this work, I compare the feeling of blood loss to "smokable herbs", as a way to make "Tav" feel at ease with the symptoms. If you are experiencing the same symptoms as her after losing a bunch of blood, please dial 9-1-1 (or whatever the emergency number is in your country) IMMEDIATELY. You are probably going to die if it's that bad unless you get medical help.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! I tried to emphasize the respect that Astarion holds for Tav while he has sex with her; as I tried to keep everything as enthusiastic as possible, considering the involvement of aphrodisiacs.

[onebighappyaftonfamily]

FNAF Dashboard Simulator

🐊 not-coughin Follow

guys I hate living in hurricane utah. you will not believe what i just saw.

#cryptid sightings

🐰 springbonnie-and-friends

Well? You cant just say that and tag it #cryptid sightings and not elaborate!

🕶️ cryptid_hunter Follow

Dont you know that Utah is full of cryptids man. They probably saw the Wire Monster

🐰 springbonnie-and-friends

The what.

📸 Wire-Monster-Heritage-Posts Follow

Official Wire Monster Heritage Post

🐰 springbonnie-and-friends

WHAT?

535 notes

🛼 he-was-a-rollersk8er-boi Follow

GUYS IM ACTUALLY ILL. I WENT TO THE SKATEBOARD PARK AFTER HOURS AND A GIANT METALLIC MONSTER GIRL ON WHEELS JUST INSULTED ME. AND THEN SHE DID THE TRICK I HAD BEEN PRACTICING BUT SHE DID IT BETTER

🛹 tony-fawk Follow

tfw you're so bad at rollerskating that your sleep paralysis demon shows up to outdo you

🛼 he-was-a-rollersk8er-boi Follow

PLEAAAAASE NO

89 notes

🎩 f-bears-family-diner Follow

We know what you did.

🌻 farmgurl1 Follow

This whole blog is giving ARG guys. But I googled the restaurant and it used to be a real place??? Someone pls explain

4 notes

⬜️ middle-of-nowhere-deactivated-02132022

GUYS I'm so scared for my life right now! bumped into his weird guy on the street and his hat fell off and his whole head was BALD AND PURPLE. like his skin was purple. And he smelled like roadkill. Did I just encounter a zombie?!

🎇 slaymechanic Follow

omg youre so rude! why are you demonizing that poor homeless man?! blocked

💌 cutsie_side_blog Follow

OP makes me sick

🖼️ simple-artist Follow

K

💽 foundfootagelvr3

U

🛤️ i-like-trains Follow

N

🏙️ king-sh1t Follow

G

🎼 classicalmusic1 Follow

P

🐰 springbonnie-and-friends

O

87 notes

🔎 henry-emily-sightings Follow

Oh my god guys normally I just post about whenever this guy ends up on the news but I literally saw him IRL today! He's moved back to Hurricane Utah?! Oh my god!

🐻 fr3dbear_fan Follow

SAY SIKE RN HE SAID HED NEVER RETURN

🕵️ problem-sleuther Follow

you mean that guy who was arrested for killing a bunch of kids including his own daughter??? should we be worried

🔎 henry-emily-sightings Follow

Clearly you haven't done your research. It wasn't him. They're still not sure who the murderer was but a lot of online fans believe that the murderer might have been Henry Emily's co-owner and friend William Afton. Naturally the guy disappeared shortly after Emily's arrest. Right, @william-afton-sightings ?

🔍 william-afton-sightings Follow

The guy's a ghost. I've literally turned this blog into a search for the Vintage Spring Bonnie suit, seeing as it was what the murderer wore to kill the missing kids. It's also missing, btw. It was also the only suit William Afton would wear, and some reports say he didn't like it when employees wore his suit. I'm hoping if I look for the Vintage Bonnie suit, then Afton might be too.

🐇 bonnie_lvr Follow

I've seen a spring bonnie suit but it was probably a crappy cosplay or smth. horror attraction by my place is trying to make it freddys pizzeria themed (disgraceful)

🔍 william-afton-sightings Follow

I have literally never seen a cosplay of Spring Bonnie. DM me PLEASE

💽 foundfootagelvr3

WAIT BONNIE_LVR ARE YOU IN HURRICANE BECAUSE I SAW THAT PLACE TOO. OMG IS THIS WHY MR EMILY IS BACK?!

134 notes

🎬 vintage-show-polls Follow

🐊 not-coughin Follow

Ugh this is such a niche tv show all of you are just voting based on what you know of the animatronics, not the show. gtfo posers

💽 foundfootagelvr3

OMG PLEASE VOTE FOXY HES SUCH A FASCINATING VILLAIN PLS PLS PLS PLS FOXY SWEEP

459 notes

reminder this is unreality. go ahead and vote in the poll and click the link of that tagged blog tho

[itsmealaiah]

Please can you do fem!reader with Tom and they raw-dog? I absolutely love your work and its perfectly fine if you dont feel comfortable doing this😊

absolutely i can, thank you

Tough love

tags/ warnings: rawdogging/ unprotected sex (reader and tom are of age in this au), p in v, just smut 🥰 and a cliffhanger ❤️

minors do not interact

I am not responsible for your media consumption however.

Do not steal, copy, translate, or claim as your own.

It had been three months since Tom had been home. Three long months of touring, of performing, of sleeping in strange beds and eating at even stranger restaurants. Three months of missing his partner, his better half. He missed the way you looked at him, like you could see straight through him, like you understood everything he was feeling even when he couldn't find the words. He missed you.

And now, finally, he was home. The plane had touched down at the airport a few hours ago, and despite the jetlag and the exhaustion, he couldn't wait to get to your place. He'd texted you the moment he'd landed, and you'd told him not to take too long, that you couldn't wait to see him either.

So here he was, standing outside your door, his heart pounding in his chest, his palms sweaty. He took a deep breath, raised his hand to knock, and then paused. No, he thought. He didn't want to wait any longer. He reached out, quickly unlocked the door, and pushed it open. The moment it swung wide, he was tackled to the ground, your body on top of him, your lips finding his in a hungry, desperate kiss.

"God, I've missed you," you groaned against his lips, and he felt a shiver run down his spine. "I've missed you so fucking much."

You pulled back just enough to look him in the eye, your pupils blown wide, your expression dazed and lustful. "You're home now, baby," you breathed, and then you were kissing him again, your tongue dancing with his, your body pressing against his. You tasted like home, like you, and it was the most incredible thing he'd ever felt.

He reached up, tangled his fingers in your hair, and tugged gently, arching his back as you moaned into the kiss. You shifted, grinding your hips against his, and a sharp gasp escaped his lips as he felt how wet you were. He wanted to touch you, to feel you, but he couldn't quite reach. "Fuck," he growled, "I need to feel you."

You pulled back, your eyes meeting his, and then you were straddling him, your hands on his chest, your hips grinding against his erection. "Yeah?" you breathed. "You want this?"

He nodded, his eyes locked on your lips, and then you leaned forward, capturing his mouth in a deep, passionate kiss as you lowered yourself onto his cock. He groaned, feeling you slide down his length, the tightness of you around him driving him wild. "Fuck, yes," he growled into the kiss, his hands finding your hips, holding you steady as he thrust upwards, burying himself deeper inside you.

You moaned, arching your back, your head falling back against his shoulder. "That's it," you breathed, "give me more." He did, his hips moving faster, harder, the friction between your bodies sending shockwaves of pleasure through him. He felt like he was losing control, felt like he was going to explode, and he didn't care. All that mattered was this moment, this connection with you.

You leaned forward, your breasts pressed against his chest, your lips finding his neck, sucking and nipping at the skin there. "Oh God," you gasped, "I've missed this." He couldn't help but smile against your skin, feeling the heat of your body, the wetness between your legs.

And then, as if from nowhere, a thought hit him, making him pause for a moment. He hadn't been careful, hadn't used protection. He'd been so caught up in finally being home, in being with you, that he'd forgotten. But it was too late to worry about that now. All he could do was hope.

You looked up at him, a question in your eyes, and he knew you were thinking the same thing. He reached down, his fingers finding the vibrator he'd brought with him, and turned it on, pressing it against your clit. Your eyes rolled back in your head, and you moaned, arching your back further. "That's it," he groaned, thrusting harder as he felt your body tense and spasm around him. "Let it out, baby."

He could feel his own release building, feel the tension coiling tight in his abdomen. He gripped your hips, holding you close as he pushed up into you one final time, his body shuddering with the force of his orgasm. You cried out his name, your body tensing around him, and he felt the walls of your body contract as you came as well.

You collapsed forward onto his chest, your breath coming in ragged gasps, your skin flushed and slick with sweat. He ran his fingers through your hair, kissing the top of your head as you nestled against him. For a few moments, the world was quiet, the only sound the ragged rhythm of your breath and the thudding of his heart in his ears.

Then, as if a dam had broken, the reality of the situation crashed down on you both. "Oh my God," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "We didn't use anything."

He stiffened beneath you, and you could feel the tension in his body. "I know," he said, his voice tight. "I'm sorry."

You sat up, looking down at where your bodies were still connected. "What are we going to do?" you asked, your voice hitching slightly. He reached up, cupping your face in his hands, and kissed you gently.

"We'll figure it out together," he said, his voice steady.

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Regarding noncon and dubcon content..

Trigger warnings to those who feel uncomfortable with the mention of the topic even though some of the terms are censored.

Recently I've seen a lot of content regarding the noncon and dubcon content and though I do interact and like some of them.. the lacking of tags and warnings is extremely concerning. Yes I know that some people are into cnc however some of these are out of hand. I also don't promote it in my page.

I've seen a few straight up romanticizing abuse and my gosh was seeing my comfort character so out of character worse than forcing myself to finish "It Ends With Us" by Coleen Hoover.

I'm glad @shoukiko spoke up about the matter and that @puff0o0 has been helping comfort those of you have been traumatized by this kind of writing. Everyone should be aware of their internet consumption, this especially applies for writers who should also be aware of what they're putting out there and labeling accordingly.

I also saw in puff's recent post of a requester asking for comfort hcs and god do I feel bad for those people who have suffered seeing that kind of content. Soon I might write some comfort hcs of CoD characters in a relationship, LIKE A GENUINE, REALISTIC (?) ONE OF NORMAL PEOPLE IN A RELATIONSHIP. Not anything that has to do with them being a r***st, ab***r, pr*d***r or any of the sort.

Because I've seen a few posts like saying that was their actual hcs of these characters especially a lot of straight up of the ch*ld p*rn, r*p* and I have never felt more disgusted, revolted, sick and shocked in my whole life seeing what they wrote and seeing how serious it was..

If you see it, DO NOT HARASS THOSE CREATORS, DON'T EVEN INTERACT IN A NEGATIVE WAY. If you wish to confront then do it the civil way, all the bullying and death threats are not necessary or welcome. You all should know better than that and should be far more mature.

This isn't directed to anybody or to any means, you do you if you want to read that content however it's uncomfortable, even disturbing for most people.

I understand that writing is an art and it's free for everyone but please for the sake of some people, do add tags, trigger warnings and just warnings in general. This also applies to those who promote that kind of content.

@wishesforyou @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @cutenote @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld

[mesperyiandevotee]

🦄unihorns4salenotscam follow

can the nation-people rpf shippers STOP posting their headcanons and fic in the main tag????? People use the main tag for REAL information and news about the reps!

🚬fruityfag follow

says the person wiht a link to their scotnor fics in their pinned

🦄unihorns4salenotscam follow

did I say anything about NOT writing nation-people rpf AT ALL?? No?? I said to keep it out of the 👏MAIN👏 TAG. piss on the poor ass website I swear.

🌋hallgrimskirkjafucksnotredame follow

Yo guys? I think one of the nation-people found this post. Mr France literally posted this an hour ago:

🥑anavocadothaaaaaaaanks follow

NOT EVEN A THOUSAND NOTES??? I FEEL LIKE I'VE SEEN THIS EVERYWHERE

9123 Notes

🧭lostwanderer69

Hey uh........... did anyone tell the US rep that those panera bred lemonades are hella caffeinated??

🧟zombie--davie

how. how many did he drink?

🐗40to50wildhogs follow

He's literally immortal he's fine.

🦬alfredfjoneshater follow

FUCKING 12????????????????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

👻givemeblueflowers follow

He was in the middle of drinking lemonade 13 when he kicked the bucket. Some tiktoker was recording him on a Live

👑lotrmonarchist

apparently he was with m. Denmark. who. kept drinking more lemonades until the manager cut him off...

🥀valentinorose follow

P sure dude said once he ate hellebore like salad. Not surprised.

👑lotrmonarchist

i thought he only said that to make historians leave him alone

🧭lostwanderer69

No no, I believe it

869 Notes

🪆theinn3rm3

OK. Let's settle this.

3 Notes

🎪thenightcircusstolemylunchmoney follow

🏴stopdraininmeswamp-deactivated

Anyone else notice he does this when some senator or w/e pisses him off?

🏒ruscanhockeyrpf follow

the fbi got him

#war thunder #nation people bs

10.8K Notes

❄️snowmiserbottomsurgery follow

not the swifties acting racist af after mr. korea called taylor "that one a-pop artist" 💀💀💀

❄️snowmiserbottomsurgery follow

me looking at the notes ONE FUCKING HOUR after i hit post:

🧟‍♀️realzombiedavie

I'm convinced tswifts has mind control powers like how england sees fairies or miss belarus sees ghosts

🥐iaminlepain follow

Everyone needs to stop spreading around that the nation people have magic powers it's been proven again and again that it's fake.

☕blackcoffeegayweexist follow

realzombiedavie why'd you use an honorific for Miss Belarus but not Mr. England?

🧟‍♀️realzombiedavie

Cuz I actually respect Miss Belarus lmao

#RIP to OPs notes #turning off my asks in case england stans come after me again

14.2K Notes

📰nationrep-rpf-confessions follow

Dear god wtf is up with all the colonizer/colony (or ex-colony) ships lately??! I know RPF is already a gray area morally, but can we at least not be gross about it?!

✂️ausprutoxicyuriscissoring

This is some of the most low effort bait I've ever seen.

12 Notes

📎cl1ppyrev1val follow

Thanks for using my correct pronouns tho ig?

📍geoguessr-lowscore follow

the "schrodinger's country person" is sending me

🗡️teutonicsword follow

#negative tag #nation people mention #doesn't op write liechtenstein x reader? why's anon salty about the pruliech?

if anon's the person i'm thinking of, they selfship with Miss Liechtenstein and harrass anyone else that selfships with her or ships her with another cuntry-person

#oh god i'm p sure i know who anon is #hasn't staff termed them like 6 times? #how many accounts have they made?

593 Notes

🐻‍❄️hibernatingkumaku follow

🐻‍❄️hibernatingkumaku follow

@ everyone asking me for the link here it is enjoy.

[agendabymooner]

she's beauty, she's grace ! sergio 'checo' p. x ofc (miss philippines!ofc)

summary: the red bull driver sergio perez has married a long-time fan - who also happened to be the miss universe 2018 winner AND the mother to his two kids, carmella 'mella' ayala.

content warning: possible use of explicit language, established relationship, miss universe!ofc, fluff, dad!checo and mom!ofc, mentions checo and his proud bf moment, video clips + tweets and posts, what is proper grammar, mentions of characters from jenson button x ofc work and seb vettel x ofc piece (no storyline involved)

note: i used this face claim because i was one of those people that were screaming "PHILIPPINES" at the tv hoping that catriona gray would win. don't ask me why i made a checo one. there's something about that man that had my internals screaming for a moment so i've been at this thing for HOURS. i should probably update my masterlist soon before i start packing my shit and going 😭🤠 enjoy xx

masterlist

MISS U(niverse), CHECO ❤️ | MELLA TALKS ABOUT BEING CELEBRATED IN MEXICO BY HER BOYFRIEND'S FAMILY | CARMELLA AYALA HOMECOMING 2019 w/ VICE GANDA by abscbn

HOST: VICE (GANDA) GUEST: CARMELLA AYALA

[translation: mi rana pequeño = my little frog]

tagged schecoperez

liked by carlossainzjr, danielricciardo, christianhorner

user1 my little frog 😭

user2 WHICH ONE IS A HARRIE?!

carmayalaprz bitzy but he's at the hotel rn 😅 he's taking a break from chiquito

user2 even froggys need a break too 😩🙌

schecoperez what do you mean mr. bitzy's at the hotel 🧐

carmayalaprz what do you mean by that love? 😄😊

schecoperez 😊

maxverstappen1 uh oh. i wouldn't play this game with carma if i were you checo 🤔

redbullracing i agree with max on this one

christianhorner i don't really mind being introduced to bopit and bitzy every time 😕 liked by carmayalaprz

carmayalaprz i hope gp's the same because there's gonna be a lot of that soon 😅

danielricciardo how much plushies does he have for the trip rn?

carmayalaprz without cece's? about seven. apparently the whole pack either come or be left at home but we all know the chances of one being left alone in the cold dark place

danielricciardo i can barely imagine ribb being left alone at home- can you just imagine that poor frog crying for his friend?

carmayalaprz i can never 😔

tagged schecoperez, artsforyouth, artsforkids

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, adaabbott

adaabbott ah yes! the efficient cardboard crafting camp! my favourite activities yet! liked by carmayalaprz

carmayalaprz i had my biggest proud wife and mom moment just watching serg and silas make those houses 🥰

adaabbott haha! i can imagine! poppet and jens definitely tried their best working together!

user1 silas and sergio perez are the most iconic duo since sebastian and michael 😍

user2 i love how hands-on you and checo are when it comes to your little ones!

carmayalaprz thank you so much! us parents are trying despite the busy schedules, you know? 💖

danielricciardo i hope you guys brought earplugs. god knows how much of a screamer silas is 😭

schecoperez daniel for the last time he didn't intentionally try to break your eardrums 🤠

carmayalaprz try babysitting them, you'll get used to it eventually

danielricciardo maybe next time, yes?

user3 danny would probably add more to the noise if anything ngl 😭

schecoperez am i ever glad to take your and silas' attentions away from the stupid frogs 😄 liked by carmayalaprz

carmayalaprz don't say that about those frogs 🤠 i was shedding blood and tears swiping my card after passing by that store

schecoperez maybe next time let's not go to a mall with a build a bear store 🤔

carmayalaprz i agree. we might have pavlov'd our son with the build-a-bear stores we come across to

maxverstappen1 so i should return the froggy i bought him then...?

redbullracing you know the right answer to that max.

the perez kids

silas milo ayala perez

cecilia morgana ayala perez

[uriswhumpchamber]

Hello!

After a long time (read: approximately two weeks) of deliberation (read: procrastinating), I've made this blog. To contain anything whump-related and be able to be properly excited about the idea of torturing characters without filling my main with, well. Y'know.

On to the proper introduction: I am an adult (21+). I speak English as a second language and am not used to writing longer works on it, so you'll be much more likely to see me writing shorter snippets.

Aaand I'm adding a cut here, because oh god this got long.

For tropes I like/you may find in my writing/reblogs:

Multiple whumpees, specially with whumpee-turned-caretaker. Specially if they're not good at it.

Caretaker-less whump; hurt/no comfort; self-caretaking (if that is a trope at all). In a similar vein, carewhumpers. 10/10

Torture in general. A decade of it being a special interest has... Not paid off, but something similar.

Medical/lab-setting whump.

Supernatural/magic whump.

Any sort of deep meaningful platonic relationships in whump I am aro and starved of them in mainstream media.

Defiant/violent whumpees, strong and not.

I have very few squicks, to the point where I don't care to discuss them :P will comment on 'em if they ever come up. I can stomach most things.

I do not have a DNI: you can assume this blog is geared towards people older than 18, that there will be sensitive content, and act based on that. I try to add important trigger warnings to my work (blood, some kinds of violence, flashing and eyestrain if I'm posting something visual, any kind of bigotry), but I can't promise to tag for everything. Am always open to suggestions regarding what tags to add to one post, though.

I'm multiply disabled, autism included in that, and a lot of my characters share those aspects. As much as I don't mind discussing disability in whump, as it's a subject I care about, I will not be apologetic about depicting characters that represent this aspect of my personality, in any of the very common roles seen in this genre.

I tend to write mostly about my own characters. While most of the Deep Lore will not be necessary (and if it is I'll try to give a quick rundown), if y'all end up interested in finding out more about my homemade blorbos, you can find them in my art account under their own tags.

I don't think there's anything I'm missing, so this will do for an intro/pinned post. I hope.

[bossbtch1]

Hi there 🫶🏻

I read Shadow of the past and it was awesome oh my god!!!

If you are taking requests, I have actually two prompts that I would love to see it, written by you 🥹

1- just a smut, pure smut, lovely smut. Bucky being an angry dom, frustrated coming to home and giving his frustration on female reader

and he's to obsessed and rough that reader need to you safe word, and then its a bit angst, cause Bucky feels terrible, but fem Reader reassures him that everything is okay 🥰

2th prompt in next ask 👁️

A Bad Day

Summary : Basically "you pissed me out, I'm going to fuck the shit out of you."

Pairings : Bucky x F!Reader

Words : 5,7k

General Tags : NSFW, Smut, 18+

Tags : Angst, Hurt, Comfort, P in V, Unprotected Sex, Safe Word, Bucky is a dom, Choking, Spanking, Angry sex, After care, Make up sex, Shower sex, Slight Handjob, Fingering, Playful Banter, Fluff at the end

A/N : Hi, thank you for the request. While this still leans into the smutty side, I've woven in some plot and fluff to enhance the overall experience. Enjoy!

My masterlist

It was one of those days. When you could tell Bucky was stressed about something, but wouldn't tell you what it was. You knew not to push him, but you wished he'd talk to you instead of keeping it bottled up.

You were sitting at home watching a show on Netflix, while you waited for him to get back. It was almost 10 o'clock. You'd made dinner earlier, but since he hadn't eaten it yet, you had put the plate of food in the microwave. It was probably cold by now, but you were sure he was hungry and would eat it anyway.

It had been days since he talked to you. You missed his voice and his touch. But the way he had been treating you lately was making you angry. You knew he was stressed and needed to be left alone, but you needed attention too. You couldn't remember the last time he'd kissed you. The last time he'd told you he loved you.

When you heard the front door open and shut, you stood from the couch and walked to the kitchen. He was just taking his coat off.

"Welcome home," you greeted, leaning against the counter.

"Hey," he mumbled, hanging his coat up and walking past you to the microwave. He grabbed the plate of food and pulled it out, before grabbing a fork. "Thank you for dinner."

"You're welcome." You watched as he sat down at the table and started eating. "Are you okay?"

Pausing mid-bite, he raised an eyebrow and met your gaze. "Why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering. You've been a little distant lately," you mentioned, making your way over to the table and taking a seat across from him.

"I'm fine," he replied, before shoving another forkful into his mouth.

"Are you sure? Because you've been acting differently," you pointed out, as you looked at him, studying his expressions.

He put his fork down and let out a deep breath. "Look, I'm not really in the mood for this. Can we just drop it?"

"Drop what? I'm worried about you," you expressed, leaning in slightly.

"I'm fine," he said with a hint of irritation in his tone. "I don't want to talk about it."

A moment of silence hung between you two as you looked at him. "Do you want to talk about us? About how you've barely talked to me for the past week? Or about how I haven't gotten so much as a kiss or an 'I love you' from you?” You paused, your words lingering in the space between you. "Is that something you'd like to talk about?"

"Jesus Christ, what's your problem?" he asked, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"I don't have a problem. I just miss my boyfriend," you said, trying to keep the hurt from your voice. "I don't even know what's going on with you anymore. You won't tell me. It's like I don't matter to you."

"I said I don't want to talk about it," he muttered.

"Well, I want to," you shot back, crossing your arms.

"What do you want me to say? That I'm stressed? That I don't have time for anything other than work right now?” He looked at you with frustration. “Do you want me to admit that I'm a fucking failure? That I'm a piece of shit for not being able to give you the life you deserve?"

You blinked at him, stunned at his action. "Bucky-"

"Don't," he snapped, standing up. His fork clattered as it hit the table, the sound echoing through the apartment. "Don't give me the sad eyes."

"I'm not-"

"Yes, you are! You're pitying me," he yelled, the frustration in his voice escalating. "Why don't you just step away so I can have some damn peace during my dinner?" His outburst echoed in the space.

"Fine," you declared, rising from your seat. "If that's how you want to be, then I'll leave you alone."

"Fine." He crossed his arms defiantly as you walked past him, heading toward the bedroom.

You slammed the door behind you and flopped down on the bed. You felt tears welling up in your eyes and you tried not to cry. You were pissed off at him.  You started scrolling through your Instagram feed, hoping to take your mind off of Bucky and whatever he was going through. You'd never seen him act like this before. Normally he would vent to you or you would talk him through it. He'd never completely shut you out before.

After a few minutes, you heard the microwave again. Bucky was heating up more food. You continued looking through your phone, until you heard him walk into the bedroom. You locked your phone and set it down, sitting up. You were expecting him to start undressing and getting ready for bed, but instead he walked over to you and grabbed you by the arm.

"Buck," you exclaimed, surprised by his actions. "What are you doing?"

"You want me to act like myself?" he asked, his hand tightening around your arm. "You want me to talk to you and be affectionate?"

"Yes," you answered, not knowing where this was going.

With an abrupt pull, he brought you to your feet. "Well, this is how I'm going to treat you."

Before you could ask what he meant, he threw you down onto the bed, causing you to let out a squeal. "Buck, what the hell?"

He didn’t answer and got on top of you. His hands held your wrists against the bed and he leaned in to kiss you. The kiss was hard and demanding. He forced his tongue into your mouth and began exploring.

When he finally pulled away, he looked into your eyes. "Bucky... we can talk about this..."

"No, Y/N. I want to fuck. I want to take my anger out on you. Will you let me do that? Will you let me fuck you like an animal?" he asked. He had never been this rough. But you couldn't deny how aroused it made you. You could feel your panties getting wet. “I’ll show you the real me.”

"Yes," you breathed out and braced yourself.

He grabbed your wrists and pinned them down above your head. His body was hovering over yours. "I'll give you a safe word. How about 'peach'? Say it and I'll stop."

"Peach?" you questioned.

"Say the word and I'll stop," he repeated, before crashing his lips onto yours.

The kiss was sloppy and harsh. He bit your bottom lip hard, pulling a cry from your lips. It felt like he was trying to suck the breath out of you. You felt out of breath when he finally pulled away. He moved his hands away from your wrists, but you kept them in place.

He brought his right hand down to your throat and lightly pressed his fingers into your flesh. You moaned at the feeling and he began to squeeze. It wasn't enough to hurt, but it was definitely making it harder to breathe. You could feel the pleasure building in your lower stomach.

You had never explored breath play. You didn't think it would do much for you, but this was incredible. He knew exactly how to make it feel amazing. Your eyes fluttered shut and your body started to writhe against the bed.

He finally released you and you sucked in a deep breath. He sat up and grabbed the waistband with both hands. With a quick yank, he ripped them right off of your body, revealing your bra underneath. Your eyes widened in shock. "Buck, what the -"

"Shut up," he growled, as he moved his hand and began unbuttoning your pants. He yanked them down, along with your panties.

He quickly pulled off his shirt, pants, and boxers. His hard cock sprung free, precum leaking out of the tip. "Hands and knees, now," he commanded.

"Bucky -"

He gripped your chin tightly. "What did I say? I said hands and knees," he ordered, voice thick with arousal. "Don't make me repeat myself."

You swallowed hard, and nodded, doing as he said. You raised yourself on all fours as he moved behind you and grabbed your hips. He smacked your ass, causing you to jump. "Don't move," he said, his metal hand moving to wrap in your hair and tug making you cried out, and he pushed your face into the mattress.

You could feel his hand rubbing your pussy. Then his fingers were pushing inside you. "Look at you, all ready for me. So wet. I'm going to fuck you so hard. I'm not gonna hold back. I'm going to fuck you like you deserve to be fucked. Do you understand me?"

You could hear him spitting and then he was thrusting inside of you. "Ah, fuck," he groaned, as he bottomed out. He held onto your hips tightly, and didn't give you a moment to adjust. His fingers dug into your hips and he began pounding into you. "Is this what you wanted, Y/N?"

"Yes, yes," you moaned. He began fucking you harder, his hand leaving your hair and moving to your back. He pushed down, arching your back as his cock filled you again and again.

His flesh hand left your hip and he slapped your ass, hard. You whimpered at the pain, the sting of the slap turning to pleasure. Your eyes closed as his cock stretched you over and over. He slapped your ass again, his flesh hand gripping your hip again. He was pounding into you relentlessly now, his pace unrelenting. You gripped the bed sheets, his cock hitting that perfect spot.

"I can feel your pussy getting wetter. You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he asked. He was thrusting in and out of you hard. He was rougher than he'd ever been before. It almost hurt, but there was something else there. It was pleasure and lust. You liked the way he was using your body. "Such a tight little pussy," he grunted, as he rammed into you.

He held you still as he fucked you hard. You could hear him grunting and moaning, and the sound was so erotic, it made your pussy throb. You tried to keep your voice down, but you couldn't stop yourself from crying out.

"That's it, baby. Let me hear you. You want me to fuck you like this? You want me to make you scream? You like when I pound your little pussy?"

"Yes! Please!"

He wrapped his hand around your neck and started pulling you up against his chest. You could feel his cock slamming inside you, and it felt amazing. "Remember to use the safe word, if it's too much."

You looked at him over your shoulder. His face was flushed, and his pupils were dilated. He had a wild look in his eyes, and the sight made your heart beat faster. His pace was relentless. He was like a wild animal, his body slamming against yours. You could feel the pressure building up inside of you.

Your fingers curled around the sheets and you whimpered. He reached around, and pressed his metal fingers against your clit. You jolted and gasped. He didn't stop moving, even as he rubbed circles against your bundle of nerves.

He was thrusting harder and faster, and the feeling was so incredible, you started screaming. You were getting louder and louder, and the sounds coming out of you were animalistic. "Are you close, baby?" he asked.

"Yessss," you hissed.

"Come on, baby. Cum all over my cock. I want to feel your pussy clenching around me." he demanded, his voice gravelly.

His words sent you over the edge, you could feel the tension in your lower stomach and then the flood gates were open. Your orgasm hit you hard, your pussy clenching around him. He gripped your hips and kept pounding you until you were a trembling mess.

You collapsed onto your forearms, unable to hold yourself up anymore. Your orgasm had made you weak.

"Turn over," he ordered, pulling out. You obeyed, moving so that you were lying on your back, legs spread for him. He moved back in, pushing your knees up until they were almost to your shoulders. He entered you again and began pounding into you, his hips slamming against yours. You could feel him hitting all the right places.

He was groaning and moaning. He grabbed your throat and squeezed. You gasped for air and the lack of oxygen heightened your pleasure. "I love this. You're so beautiful when you're gasping for air," he groaned.

He didn't stop thrusting, his hips rocking in a steady rhythm. Your pussy was clenching around him, and he grunted in pleasure. "Your pussy feels so fucking good."

You were starting to get light-headed, and he finally released your throat. He moved his hands to your thighs and spread your legs open wide. You were panting heavily, and he leaned down and kissed you. The kiss was softer than the previous ones, and his tongue gently slid into your mouth.

Bucky kept fucking you harder and harder. He was like an animal. He was using you for his own pleasure. You closed your eyes, the sensation was overwhelming. Your mind was swimming with thoughts and feelings. You were completely at his mercy.

"Look at me." he ordered while cupping your cheek.

You opened your eyes and gazed up at him. He was looking down at you with a mixture of lust and admiration, his pupils dilated and his eyes dark. “Keep your eyes on me while I'm fucking you." he grunted, as he thrust into you again.

You nodded, your breath catching in your throat. He had such control over your body. He knew just how to move his hips, how to angle himself so he was hitting the spot that would make you see stars.

His hand then was squeezing your breast. You moaned and arched your back. He squeezed and massaged your breasts, and you felt your nipples hardening. You moaned as he pinched your nipple.

"Your tits are so perfect, baby. I could play with them all day." he said as he lowered his head and took your nipple in his mouth. He flicked his tongue over it, and you gasped. He sucked on it, his teeth grazing over it. You felt your pussy tighten around his cock making him groaned.

"Gonna come for me again?", He continued touching and teasing your breasts, and the sensation was incredible. He pinched your nipple between his teeth, and the pain mixed with pleasure, was so intense, you screamed.

You nodded. You were close. So close.

He grabbed your chin, holding you still as his hips moved against yours. "I can't hear you."

"Yes, I'm gonna come again," you cried, your body arching against his.

"Good," he breathed. His fingers moved to rub against your clit.

You moaned loudly, your hips moving against his hand. "Oh god, baby, I'm so close. Please make me come, please," you begged.

He rubbed your clit in slow circles, his cock pumping into you. You could feel your orgasm approaching and you closed your eyes. "Look at me," he growled, his voice harsh. Your eyes flew open and you stared at him, panting.

"I'm gonna -" you broke off as your orgasm hit. You screamed, your body arching against his as he continued his relentless pace, drawing it out as long as he could.

He moaned, his hips jerking erratically. He was close. You could feel it. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer. "Oh fuck." he groaned, and with one last thrust, he came. You could feel him filling you up, and you cried out in pleasure. He kept thrusting into you, as you both came down from your high. He collapsed on top of you, and you could feel him softening inside you.

He collapsed on top of you, his breathing ragged. Your heart was pounding, and you were pretty sure your soul had just left your body. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips before he rolled off of you and lay down beside you. "Shit, doll, I've missed that," he sighed.

You laughed, as Bucky slowly moving to lay your head on his chest. His flesh hand stroked your hair. "So have I, Buck."

You both lay in comfortable silence for a few minutes. You could feel his heartbeat begin to return to normal, as yours finally did. "Are you okay, doll? Was I too rough?" he asked.

"No." you said breathlessly, kissing his chest. "You were perfect."

“Are you really okay? I’m sorry if I was being too rough, I-”

Cutting off his words with a lingering kiss, you pulled away with a smile. "I have a safe word, remember? If I didn't like it, I would have used it," you assured him.

He sighed. "I'm sorry, doll. You know I’d never hurt you right?”

"I know," you whispered, your fingers tracing patterns on his skin. You felt another sigh escape him, and you could sense his relief. "It's okay. You don't need to apologize. I'm the one who wanted you to act like yourself."

"But I shouldn't have taken it out on you." He sat up, cupping your cheek with a gentleness that contrasted with the intensity of moments ago. "You deserve better than that."

"Hey," you whispered, placing your hand over his. "You were just frustrated. It's okay. I know you'd never hurt me."

"But -"

You silenced him by pressing a finger to his lips. "I'm fine, Buck. And we're okay," you reassured him, looking him straight in the eyes, making sure he could see you were telling the truth.

"Thank you. For everything." He kissed you softly.

You pulled him back down onto the bed and cuddled up to him. You laid there, enjoying each other's warmth. You felt like things were finally going to be okay, as if the storm had passed and left a calm in its wake. Bucky then broke the silence. "It was a rough mission.”

"I can tell. Wanna talk about it?" you asked, your fingers playing with his hair.

He sighed, and you could feel him tense up slightly. "Hydra." He said the word like it felt a bitter taste in his mouth. "There was a group of Hydra agents. I recognized one of them."

"One of the agents?"

"He was my handler, for a while." He looked at you, and you saw pain and fear in his eyes. "He was a bastard. He was always the one to do the worst experiments on me."

"That explains the anger," you sighed. "I'm sorry. It must have been hard to see them again."

"It was. It still is." He closed his eyes. "I hate that he's out there. And it's my fault. I should have captured him. But instead, I let him get away."

"How did that happen?” You tried to comfort him, but you didn't really know how to help him with his emotional pain.

"He managed to escape, and I couldn't let him get away. I had to bring him in. So I chased him." He took a deep breath, and you could feel him trembling slightly. "We fought, and I was winning. Then, I got a call from Sam. The team was under attack."

"And you had to choose between saving the team and capturing that son of a bitch?" You felt bad for him.

He nodded. "I chose the team. The Hydra agents escaped, but the team is safe."

You kissed him, gently. "Bucky, that was the right thing to do. The team needed your help, and I'm glad you were there for them. That man, he's not worth your guilt."

"But I let him get away. And if he gets away, he'll be able to continue his work." You could tell Bucky regretted that a lot, his eyes were filled with pain and regret.

"It's not your fault. You chose to save your team, and that's what matters." You sat up and put your hand on his chest. “Buck, I promise. I know you can't forget what happened, and I would never want you to, but don't let the past ruin your future. He may be free now, but that's only temporary. We'll catch him, and all the other bastards. You're the most capable person I know. I trust you."

He didn't look convinced, he played with your hair not looking straight to your eyes, "Hey, look at me." you cupped his face. "I know me just being beside you won’t help much, but let me try to help ease your worry… talk to me whenever you’re facing hardship. We’re a team remember?”

He smiled at you, "I know, sweetheart.” He went up to pulled you into a kiss, his hand slowly went to your neck as he deepened the kiss. "Thank you, doll. You always know what to say to make me feel better."

"I try." You smiled and kissed his nose.

"I'm gonna get a shower. Do you wanna come with me?" He asked.

You nodded and let him lead you to the bathroom, he was still holding your hand from when he had been dragging you out of bed.

Bucky pulled you into the shower as he turned the shower on, but the surprise of cold water made you yelp. "Cold!" you complained.

"Sorry, doll." He quickly adjusted the temperature, and as the warmth enveloped you both, he stepped under the spray, pulling you in with him.

You giggled. "We should have checked the temperature first."

He chuckled. "Yeah, we should have." You both laughed as the water warmed you up. "Better?"

"Mhmm, a lot better." You smiled and affectionately kissed his cheek.

He grinned and you went to grabbed the shampoo. "Here, let me help."

"Sure." You let him take the shampoo bottle.

Bucky squeezed some onto his hands and gently rubbed his hands in your hair, his fingers were massaging your scalp as he washed your hair. "How's that feel?"

"Really nice. You can do my hair every day." You grinned.

"I'll keep that in mind." He smirked and kept washing your hair. His hands moved gently, and you relaxed under his touch. You moaned as your eyes fluttered close. Bucky chuckled, "I think someone likes her scalp massaged." He teased, his fingers moving across your head.

"You're really good at this." You murmured, you were in heaven.

"Does it?" He asked, his fingers working on getting the soap out.

"Yeah, I love your hands." You moaned. "You're so good with your hands."

He laughed. "I've been told that many times."

Opening your eyes, you caught the cheeky grin on his face. "I'm sure there are other things that your hands are good at."

He grinned wider. "Why don't you tell me about those?" His playful tone invited your banter.

"Well," you started. "If I recall correctly. Those hands can make a girl orgasm like nothing else." You purred.

"Really? I thought it was my cock that did that." He smirked and rinsed the shampoo out.

You moaned, his fingers were still working their magic. "Oh no, it's definitely the hands."

"Maybe I need to check your theory," he mused. "Is it just the hands or is it something else that could be done to you?" He asked with a playful glint in his eye.

"I don't know." You moaned as his fingers found their way further down. "But you might have to experiment. For science."

"I might just have to do that." Bucky's hand wrapped around the back of your neck and pulled you into a hungry kiss. Your hands tangled in his hair, and you kissed him back. He pushed you up against the wall and ground his hips against yours, his hardening length sliding over your clit.

"Fuck, I need you, Bucky." You whimpered.

"Not yet, doll" He smirked. "I need to wash your body first." He grabbed the soap and rubbed it between his hands to create a lather. His hands started rubbing all over your body.

You sighed in bliss as his hands glided over you. The soap made it even more enjoyable as his hands slid across your body. "Turn around." He murmured and you did as he asked.

"Good girl." He said as his hands glided over your shoulders, he slowly massaged the soap into your skin and moved down your back. His hands moved further down and gripped your ass, his fingers digging into your soft skin.

"Your ass is so amazing." He said.

"Why, thank you." You grinned. "Yours is pretty spectacular too." You looked over your shoulder and winked.

He smirked. "You like my ass?"

"Hell yeah, it's gorgeous." You smiled.

He laughed. "Good, I like yours more."

He moved his hands to the front of you and cupped your breasts. He squeezed them and his thumb and forefinger rolled your nipples. You arched your back and pressed your ass against him, feeling his hard cock between your ass cheeks.

"So responsive." He chuckled and moved his hands down. "Lean against the wall."

You did as he asked and leaned against the wall. He moved one hand around your waist and the other went down your body and rubbed between your thighs. "Fuck, Bucky. I need you." You moaned.

"Hmm, you're so wet already, doll." He asked as his finger slid between your folds and rubbed over your clit.

"Always wet for you." You replied, his fingers rubbing against your clit making your breath hitch.

"Damn right." He added another finger and his thumb found your clit. He circled the bundle of nerves as his fingers pumped in and out of you.

You moaned and rocked your hips, trying to get him to go faster. "Please, Bucky."

He kissed your shoulder and then bit down, his teeth grazing over your skin. His fingers pumped harder and faster, hitting that perfect spot. "Fuck, Bucky. You're going to make me cum." You cried out.

His other hand left your breast and moved up to grip your throat, squeezing slightly. "That's the idea, doll." He said in your ear.

Your breathing became erratic, and you felt yourself getting close. "Bucky..." You whimpered.

"Yeah, I've got you, doll." He said, his fingers still pumping. "Come for me."

Your hips bucked as his fingers continued their assault. "Ah, fuck! Fuck, Bucky!" You screamed as your orgasm ripped through you. Your legs almost gave out, but Bucky's arms kept you upright.

"That's my good girl." He cooed, his fingers slowing their movements.

"Bucky..." You moaned, trying to catch your breath. Your hand went down to stroke his cock making him groan. You turned your head and looked at him closing his eyes and moaning at the feeling of your hands on him.

"You're gonna be the death of me, Y/N." He said as you pumped him.

You chuckled. "You know you love it."

He groaned. "Yes, I do." He looked down and watched as your hand moved up and down his length. "Fuck." He stopped your hand, "You're going to make me cum, and I want to be inside of you when I do."

"Well, what are you waiting for then?" You grinned and turned to face him.

"I was being a gentleman." He smirked. He pulled you into a searing kiss and you wrapped your arms around his neck. Your fingers were tangling in his hair and his hands were on your waist, he lifted you up and pushed you up against the tiled wall. You gasped and broke the kiss. "Fuck, yes." You moaned.

"Hold on to me." He said, and you wrapped your legs around his waist. He grabbed his cock and lined himself up with your entrance. He slowly slid into you, his eyes never leaving yours. You moaned and threw your head back, enjoying the feeling of him inside of you.

"You feel so good, doll." He said.

"So do you, baby." You whimpered.

He began thrusting his hips and you cried out. "Harder!" You moaned. His hands held you up and he started to thrust into you. "Is this what you wanted?" He asked, his voice low and husky.

"Yes! Oh god, yes!" You moaned, he was hitting all the right spots and it was driving you crazy.

"That's my good girl. Let me hear you, doll." He grunted.

You were panting and moaning loudly as he thrust into you. Your eyes closed as you focused on the feeling of him inside you. His cock was hitting the spot that made your toes curl.

"Fuck, Bucky! Right there!" You screamed.

"That's it, baby. Take my cock." He growled. His hands tightened around your waist as he slammed into you. You put your hands around his neck and held on as he fucked you.

"Shit, I'm close, baby." He said, his hips were still moving and his cock was slamming into you. "Come with me, Y/N."

Your walls started to flutter and you felt yourself coming undone. "Oh fuck! I'm gonna cum!" You cried out.

Bucky groaned. "That's it, doll. Cum for me."

You screamed his name as you came hard. Your walls clamped down on him and your nails dug into his skin. He cursed and followed after you. "Fuck, Y/N." He thrust into you a few more times and came inside of you. His hips still moving as he rode out his orgasm.

He gently put you down, but kept his arms around you to hold you up. You were panting, trying to catch your breath.

"I fucking love shower sex." You grinned.

Bucky laughed. "I can tell. That was fucking hot." He kissed you, his tongue slipping into your mouth and dominating the kiss.

"Mmm, that was so good." You sighed, resting your head against his chest.

"Yeah, it was." He smiled and stroked your hair. You closed your eyes and relaxed against him. "You okay, doll?"

"Hmmm, yeah." You said. "I'm all clean, but you aren't. Come here."

You grabbed the shampoo and squeezed some into your hand. You massaged the shampoo into his hair and he groaned. "That feels so good, doll."

You giggled and continued to wash his hair. "I'm glad."

"Give my back some attention," he requested, and you eagerly complied, taking your time to wash his back, relishing the tactile pleasure of the soap meeting his skin. You enjoyed the feel of his muscles under your fingertips.

"There. All clean." You beamed with satisfaction at the completion of the task.

"Thanks, doll." His smirk reflected a playful appreciation for your efforts.

"Anytime, baby." You responded with a teasing affection.

"Let's get out of here before we get cold," he suggested, breaking the cozy spell of the shower. You agreed, the warmth of the water now juxtaposed with the cooler air outside the shower enclosure. You stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around your body.

"I love it when you're all wet." Bucky said, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around you.

"You're so corny." You giggled.

"Yeah, but you love it." He smirked.

You rolled your eyes and walked out of the bathroom, grabbing a fresh pair of clothes from your dresser. You put the towel back and dressed in your new clothes.

He led you back to the bedroom, and you got dressed. "I'm really sorry, doll for snapping at you earlier."

"It's okay, Bucky." You smiled and gave him a kiss.

He frowned. "No, I was a dick."

"Well, that's not new." You playfully teased, giving a bit of humor into the moment.

He chuckled. "True, but I was an extra big dick."

"So, I should have you measured?" You quipped, a mischievous smirk gracing your face.

"You've been spending too much time with me." He shook his head, appreciating the banter.

"You say that like it's a bad thing." You teased.

"No, not at all. It's just you're becoming more like me." He laughed, but the levity faded as he grew serious. "I don't ever want you to be like me. You're a good person, Y/N, and I don't want you to become jaded and bitter."

"Bucky, it's okay. I know you're trying to be better. You're changing for the better. And if we're both together, I'm sure that we'll keep each other on the right path." You told him.

He gave you a smile and a kiss. "That's my girl."

A blush tinted your cheeks. Despite the time you'd spent together, compliments from Bucky still sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"I'm sorry for keeping all of this from you," he admitted, his gaze carrying the weight of his confession.

"I get why you did. But it's not easy for me to see you like this and not be able to help. You are the person I care most about, and I don't like seeing you hurt," you confessed.

"I know. And I hate to see you hurt. It kills me." He replied.

"I think you're forgetting that I'm a badass." You winked, injecting a moment of playfulness into the serious conversation.

"That's true. You're my tough cookie." He grinned, appreciating the effort to lighten the mood.

"And don't you forget it." You pointed at him.

"I never could." He kissed you softly. "I love you, Y/N."

You felt your cheeks heat up. No matter how many times he told you, the impact of those three words never faded, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest. "I love you, Bucky."

You climbed onto the bed and Bucky wrapped his arms around you. He sighed, contently. "I think this is where I belong."

"Where?" You asked, confused.

"In bed with you. It's like I'm home when I'm with you." He told you, his fingers traced absentminded patterns on your back.

A small smile played on your lips. "You are home, Bucky," you gently reminded him, your touch tracing along his arm.

Bucky pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head, "You're right. You're my home, Y/N."

Hi, just wanted to let you know that I'm open to requests. However, due to my ongoing commitments with school, work, and my own projects, it might take a while for me to get to them. I appreciate your understanding and am truly grateful for all the requests I've received! Thank you! xx

[proxima-writes]

seven - a joel miller story

pairing: post-outbreak jackson!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 5k

summary:

Joel Miller has spent twenty years pushing the grief and guilt surrounding the death of his daughter, Sarah, to the darkest recesses of his brain in favor of survival. And I've been meaning to tell you I think your house is haunted Your dad is always mad and that must be why

Living a more quiet life in Jackson means the ghosts of his past have returned to haunt him. He finds his solace in you, the town librarian.

author's note:

another work for the folklore anthology! i'd really love to hear your thoughts on this one, so please drop a comment or slide into my inbox if you're so inclined.

content warnings/tags:

explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), no use of y/n, ANGST, themes of grief and loss, feelings of guilt, discussions of child loss and sibling loss (unnamed brother of reader), descriptions of panic attacks, nightmares, alcohol use, unprotected p in v, vaginal fingering, pet names, a reference to the harry potter series. let me know if any are missing!

“Look at me, daddy!” 

Joel watches as Sarah pumps her legs, soaring high into the cloudless blue sky. He has to shield his eyes against the painfully bright sun. He smiles as she laughs, the sound blanketing him in joy.

As she swings down back towards the ground, Joel hears a panicked shout. He turns, a man running toward him over the hill, arms waving. He can’t hear what the man is saying, he’s too far away.

A shot rings out and the man drops to the ground in a heap of limbs. Joel can see a line of soldiers, guns trained toward him.

“Sarah, we have to go!” He shouts, turning back to the swing set. The swing is empty. He searches frantically for his daughter but the little girl is nowhere to be found. “Sarah!”

He’s running, putting space between him and the soldiers. He begs and prays to a God he’s always had trouble believing in that he finds his baby.

He sees her, finally. She’s standing in the middle of a field, her back to him. It’s dark now, he’s not sure when that happened. 

“Sarah! Sarah, we gotta go, come on, baby,” he shouts. She turns, slowly, her arm braced around her stomach and a horrified expression on her face. Joel drops to his knees in front of her, taking her face between his hands. “Baby? What’s wrong?”

She lowers her arm, bright red blood smeared on her tan skin and a blossoming stain on her shirt. Her voice shakes as she whispers, “Daddy?”

Joel wakes with a shout, sitting up in bed as he struggles to catch his breath. His sweat damp skin erupts with goosebumps in the cold air of his bedroom. He presses a hand to his chest, the tight grip of panic around his heart easing incrementally as he fights for breath.

The brief glimpse of darkness between the curtains covering the window tells him it’s still early and a glance at the clock on the nightstand confirms as much. He groans, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing. The floor is frigid against his bare feet and he shivers with the unexpected chill. 

In the kitchen, he makes himself coffee before slipping his leather jacket on and heading to the back porch. The dark sky has lightened the slightest bit, the encroaching dawn painting the inky sky a faded purple as the sun creeps up from its slumber. 

From his porch, Joel can see one of the side entrances to the cemetery. He watches as a figure emerges from beyond the concrete walls and it takes him a moment to realize it’s just you again.

You, the curious woman that runs the town library. He’s seen you on other occasions like this morning, where he’s trying to shake off the remaining webs of discomfort that have been spun in his mind. You shut the wrought iron gate and like you can feel his gaze on you, your head turns, keen eyes regarding him.

You approach his house, stopping at the bottom of the porch. You stand with your hands stuffed in your coat pockets, head tilted slightly and a smile on your lips as you say, “Up a bit early, aren't you?”

Joel takes a sip of his coffee. “Could say the same about you.”

“Early bird catches the worm,” you reply, smiling at him. He swallows. You make him nervous. Despite the few interactions he’s had with you, he feels like you know him to his very marrow, and that scares a man like Joel.

“More like a night owl.” 

You chuckle. “A bird is a bird. I’ll see you around, Joel Miller.”

He stares after your retreating figure for so long his coffee has gone cold. With a sigh, he returns inside, thoughts no less tangled than when he first stepped outside.

________

You survey the rose bushes you’ve cultivated, rows of different varietals beginning to blossom or in full bloom. The peony buds have gotten larger and any day now they should blossom as spring really begins to show her colors. The mornings and evenings are still cold, but the afternoons give way to hotter temperatures and thankfully you’ve been spared one last late winter snowfall.

You prune some of the faded blooms from the bushes, collecting them for composting. When you’re done, you return inside to wash up and change before heading to the library. As you scrub beneath your fingernails, your mind drifts to the specter of Jackson, Joel Miller.

There’s something about him that draws you in, despite the arms length of distance he tries to keep from everyone. You saw him the other morning after you made your way through the cemetery long before it officially opened, laying extra flowers around some of the less tended graves. It’s not the first time, and based on what you know about the older man, it won’t be the last.

________

Since Joel isn’t scheduled for a patrol for a few days, he decides to visit the library. Too much idleness is dangerous for a man like Joel, who is in constant search of something to keep his mind and body occupied so that his thoughts don’t drift to darker places. 

You’re sitting at the circulation desk when he enters, bent over a book as you read off the log number on it and write it in a journal under your hand. You look up, flashing him a smile that briefly suffuses him with warmth. 

“Hey,” you say in greeting. He nods, intending to just walk past you, but you continue to ask, “You need help finding anything?”

“No,” he replies shortly. You nod, smile faltering the slightest bit. Joel feels a flash of guilt before he tamps it down and walks deeper into the library. 

He explores the tidy shelves until he finds himself in the fiction section, reading cracked spines and faded letters until one catches his eye. It’s a small paperback sandwiched between two larger books, a pink spine etched with white lines and faded blue lettering. He wiggles it free, turning it over in his hands.

A Wrinkle In Time.

The blue cover with a snowy mountain scene, three children carried in an egg over a town by a flying white creature used to stare up at him from Sarah’s nightstand. It was her favorite book, one she had him read to her at bedtime when she was five. It was the same book he’d caught her reading under the covers with a flashlight past her bedtime when she was eight, the same one she carried everywhere until it fell apart and he had to replace it when she was ten.

Joel’s hand shakes and he has to steady himself by holding the bookshelf. His chest feels tight, too small of a space for his rapidly pounding heart. The words printed on the books in front of him all blur together as he tries to focus, tries to breathe, tries to stay in the present.

There’s a hand on top of his. Delicate, soft. A voice he knows he recognizes but can’t place is saying his name, but it sounds like it’s coming through layers of cotton in his ears. He squeezes his eyes shut.

After a long moment, that vise grip around his chest eases and he swallows around the lump in his throat. He blinks, spots dancing in his vision as his eyes adjust to the light once more. 

“Joel?” You ask, voice quiet. It makes his muscles tense, coiled tight like he’s ready to run. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he replies roughly. He slips his hand out from beneath yours. “‘M fine.”

You’re silent for a moment, keen eyes making him feel flayed open and exposed as you watch him. Finally you ask, “Was it about your daughter?”

“No,” he snaps. Rage blinds him, white hot in his vision as he moves past you. 

“Wait,” you call out. Joel pauses but doesn’t turn. “It’s okay, you know. To still carry that pain. Did you ever even allow yourself a chance to mourn?”

He turns, looking at you incredulously. “What the hell do you mean? I mourn every fuckin’ day.”

“No, you grieve. You let the thoughts of Sarah—“

“Don’t. Don’t you say her name,” he hisses, stepping closer in his anger. “You don’t know a goddamn thing about me.”

“—haunt you to the point of pain. You think I don’t know why you’re out there on your porch so early some mornings? It’s the same reason I’m out in the cemetery,” you confess. You take a deep breath. “You’ve been fighting for survival since the outbreak and you never gave yourself the chance to mourn. You owe it to yourself and to Sarah to try.”

Joel’s chest heaves, a venomous retort on the tip of his tongue when a voice calls out your name from the front of the building. With one last look that speaks volumes with no words, you disappear from the stacks.

Joel leaves the library and heads straight for the Tipsy Bison. A young man is polishing glassware when he storms in, door slamming shut behind him. 

“What can I get you?” The man asks as Joel slides onto a stool.

“Whiskey,” he demands. A glass is set in front of him, amber liquid poured until it's halfway full. He brings the glass to his lips and lets the alcohol burn its way down his throat and erase the taste of guilt on his tongue. Setting the glass on the bar he says, “Another.”

He drinks two more glasses in the same fashion, glaring at the boy when he hesitates to pour his third drink. He sips his fourth pour slowly, letting time pass as it always cruelly will.

Finally, when the light beyond the window panes starts to fade, he heads home, hands shoved in his pockets as he wills one foot in front of the other, gaze fixed on the pavement. It’s not a long walk but it feels like it as he cuts between buildings to avoid having to make conversation with people. 

When he reaches his house, he stomps up the steps as he digs in his pockets for his key. His boot knocks into something on the ground by the door. He bends over to pick up the object.

A Wrinkle In Time.

Joel opens his front door and collapses on the couch, book pressed to his chest as a dreamless, whiskey tinged sleep consumes him.

________ 

“Stop running! Put your hands up!”

Joel sets Sarah on the ground, raising his hands above his head. “We’re not sick! My daughter, she hurt her ankle,” he shouts.

The soldier keeps his gun trained on them as a staticky voice over the radio says something he can’t make out. His finger moves from rest to poised over the trigger, the barrel of his gun braced against his shoulder as he takes aim.

“No!” Joel shouts as the gun goes off. He launches himself in front of Sarah, wrapping his arms around her and bracing for the impact and the shocking pain. 

The pain doesn’t come. He slowly opens his eyes, expecting to see the soldier and his gun but instead he sees Sarah, a shocked look on her face as she clutches her stomach, dark blood staining her fingers. She’s far away, not right behind him like she had been.

That’s when Joel notices the weight in his hands, the cold press of metal to his palms. He looks down at the black rifle in his hands, then back up at Sarah.

“No!”

Joel wakes tangled in his sheets, panic coursing through his veins and a hoarse shout of Sarah’s name fading in the dark. As he chokes on the air his lungs are desperate for, he glances at the clock. It’s early again, too early for the rest of the town to be awake save for the people scheduled to return from patrol in a couple hours. 

He runs a hand over his face with a sigh before getting up. It’s been a couple weeks since he last had a nightmare, the product of back to back patrol shifts and helping with a building repair that left him so blissfully exhausted his traitorous brain couldn’t torture him, but it seems they’ve returned with a vengeance. 

Joel gets dressed and heads downstairs, making himself coffee that he brings out to the porch. He watches the cemetery gate, part of him hoping he sees you and a larger part hoping whatever haunts you has left your peace intact for the night.

Like his thoughts have conjured you from the ether, you step outside the cemetery gates. He sees the brief moment of hesitation when you notice him sitting on his porch, but a forgiving part of you must urge you closer. When you reach the porch, you regard him with that same look that makes him feel like you can see right through to his wretched soul.

“You’re up early,” you comment knowingly.

“So are you.”

“So I am.” You take a deep breath. “Come with me. I wanna show you something.”

You don’t wait for his response before you’re turning, heading for the gate and back towards the cemetery. Despite his better judgment, Joel follows, taking wide steps to catch up with your quick stride.

You walk the winding dirt paths between the headstones with sure steps that Joel follows with uncertainty. He’s never been in the cemetery, has never had a reason, so he appraises the headstones with a morbid curiosity, reading the names of people he’s never met. He notes that a number of the sites have flowers in various stages of freshness.

After a few minutes, you stop and Joel glances at the headstone you’ve paused in front of.

“Tommy had it put in a few years after he got to town,” you say quietly. “He told me about her…about what happened.” Joel takes a step closer, dropping to his knees. The damp earth cushions the fall, early morning dew seeping into his jeans as he reaches out to trace the carved letters of his baby’s name. 

“I’ll…I’ll give you some privacy. I just thought you should know she’s here.”

As you turn to leave, Joel reaches out and wraps a tentative hand around your knee. You look at him in surprise as he murmurs, “Stay with me?”

You lower yourself to the ground, settling in beside him as the sun rises and the world around you wakes from its slumber. 

________

You sit together in front of Sarah’s headstone for about an hour before Joel stands with a groan and mumbled curse. He holds a hand out to you to help you up, the gesture leaving you nearly pressed together. You search his brown eyes, hoping for a glimpse of relief but it’s still too soon to tell.

“I’m sorry,” he says suddenly, stepping back and clearing his throat. “For snappin’ at you in the library.”

“I understand. I made a lot of assumptions that day,” you reply. He laughs, though it’s strained.

“Yeah, well, if there were still a lottery around I’d tell you to buy a ticket. You were right on the money.” He pauses, choosing his words carefully. “Thought I was gettin’ better. After all that time with Ellie…I felt like I had a purpose again.”

“Maybe that’s the issue. Thinking your purpose is tied to someone else.”

His brow furrows. “How do you keep doin’ that?”

“Doing what?” You ask.

“Seein’ right through me.” 

You smile at him. 

“Like attracts like, Joel. Remember that.”

________

Joel starts visiting Sarah’s grave regularly. Sometimes it’s early, the result of another nightmare or returning from patrol, and sometimes it’s later in the evening, when fireflies begin to flicker in the grass as spring wears on. He takes the worn copy of A Wrinkle In Time that you left him, reading a chapter of it out loud each time as he sits with his back pressed to the stone marker.

One thing he notes with growing intrigue is how there’s always flowers on a number of the headstones, including Sarah’s. It’s a reminder that he’s not the only victim of loss, even if his own still feels like a gaping wound some days.

He visits the library again, a bag full of books he found on his last patrol shift heavy on his back as he enters the building. You look up from a book you’re reading as the door shuts, smiling at him. 

“Hey,” you say in greeting. “You need any help finding anything today?”

“No. Brought you somethin’, though,” he replies, hefting the bag onto the counter and opening it to reveal his bounty. “Found ‘em last patrol.”

You reach in and pull two of the books out, your grin downright ecstatic as you look at him. “The Lord of the Rings?”

“Complete set. You ever read it?”

“When I was younger,” you murmur, fingers tracing the cover of the book. “Thank you, Joel.”

His heart pounds as he looks at you, smile bright and eyes soft. You remove the other books from his bag, laying them out and checking them for damage. He likes watching you work, the gentle way that you flip through the time worn pages soothing to him as he stands there. 

“What’s your favorite book?” You ask, glancing at him as you work. 

“Not much of a reader. Sarah was, though. She would tell me about the books she was reading,” he says, voice catching on Sarah’s name. “She loved A Wrinkle In Time. Started the Harry Potter series, too. When the last one came out she made me take her to the bookstore at midnight just to get it.”

“My brother did the same,” you reply. “Dressed up and everything.”

“Your brother, huh?” Joel asks. You stack the books, avoiding Joel’s gaze.

“He was about Sarah’s age. Twelve. I was seventeen when…everything happened.” You pause. “The night that everything started happening, I had actually snuck out of the house. Went to a party in the woods. I made it back home just as the grid went out but when I got inside…”

“You don’t gotta tell me this,” Joel says.

“When I got inside, my brother was sitting at the table, covered in blood. Our parents had attacked him and he fought them off as best he could. He could feel the infection, you know? Knew something was wrong. He told me to leave.” You take a deep breath, your eyes returning to the present. A tear slides down your cheek and you brush it away quickly. “If I had been there—“

“Don’t,” Joel interrupts. “You can’t blame yourself.”

You laugh, looking at him incredulously. “Pot meet kettle!”

Joel laughs with you, a boisterous sound he hasn’t heard in years. It feels almost rusty in its disuse. “Thank you for tellin’ me,” he says when quiet descends once more. 

“It’s only fair, right? A tragedy for a tragedy?”

“I don’t think that’s how the sayin’ goes.”

You shrug. “That’s how the world goes, though.”

________

As spring starts to fold into summer, Joel finds himself growing closer to you. It starts with visits to the library when he’s off from patrol, helping you shelve and catalog books. Soon, he’s spending so much time there that he’s still around when it’s time for you to lock up and he offers to walk you home or to the mess hall for dinner. 

Dinner turns into the occasional drink at the Tipsy Bison. Those nights are his favorite, watching as you try to play darts after a few drinks and laughing when you pout after each missed shot.

Better days still give way to troubled nights, though. He wakes on one such night drenched in sweat, the nightmare just a haze of fear in his mind. It’s early, of course, so he takes a brief shower and dresses before grabbing his coffee and A Wrinkle In Time to make his way to the cemetery.

The ground is soft beneath his footsteps as he takes a now familiar path to Sarah’s headstone, seating himself on the damp dirt. He reads for a bit before the creak of hinges alerts him to someone’s arrival.

You enter through the front gate, a pile of flowers wrapped in butcher paper in your arms. He watches as you lay flowers around the graves with care, moving steadily among the rows until you’ve reached Joel.

“You do the flowers?” He asks. You take a seat beside him, gathering a wilted white rose from in front of the headstone and replacing it with a spray of yellow flowers. 

“Some of them. Sometimes people come to me for arrangements to bring themselves,” you reply. 

“Why?”

“Because I still believe in beautiful things,” you tell him with a shrug.

Joel watches you set the flower carefully on the ground in front of Sarah’s headstone and it feels like the final piece of a puzzle slotting into place. In the silence between you, his mind drifts to Tess, who he cared for but couldn’t give himself fully with the way he was when he knew her. He thinks about Bill and Frank and the kindness they showed him even when he didn’t show his gratitude. He thinks about Ellie, who stuck by his side despite everything he had to do to make it here. 

Then there’s you, who’s planted roots in his heart like the flowers you grow and filled him with a light he hasn’t known in a long time and it leaves him feeling damn near winded. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, when a crack of thunder precedes the opening of the sky, heavy raindrops filtering through the tree branches.

“Shit!” He curses, shoving his book into the waistband of his jeans beneath his shirt to protect it from the rain. “Let’s go,” he says, tugging you up from the ground and keeping your hand gripped tightly in his as you both sprint for his porch. 

You’re both drenched from the sudden summer downpour, rain dripping from your clothes and hair to the porch as you race up the steps. Another crack of thunder has you jumping, laughter spilling from your lips that joins the melody of the rain on the roof. 

As your laughter fades, Joel pulls you closer by the hand still held tight in his. He searches your face for any sign that you might not want this, might not want him, but to his relief he finds none. He wraps an arm around your low back, pressing your rain soaked body to his as he tilts his head to capture your lips in a gentle kiss.

The kiss remains soft, gentle, a smooth glide of his slightly chapped lips against yours. You taste like rainwater but feel like sunshine, a perfect dichotomy. Joel pulls away slowly, not wanting to lose the connection but starting to feel uncomfortable in his soaked clothing.

“Come on,” he says, “let’s get some dry clothes.”

He leads you inside the dark house and upstairs to his bedroom. He finds a shirt and boxers for you, turning to give you the privacy to change as he does the same, setting the damp book on his nightstand and leaving his wet clothes in a heap on the floor. 

“I’m decent,” you announce. He turns, breath catching at the vision you make wearing his clothes, your nipples pressing against the worn cotton shirt. He reaches for you, wrapping an arm around your waist and a hand behind your neck to pull you into another kiss. 

You pull away first this time, stepping back and crawling into his bed. You burrow beneath the covers before lifting the edge, an eyebrow raised at him in invitation. He slides in beside you, blankets settling over your bodies as you rest your head against his bare chest.

“I’m scared,” Joel says, a whisper in the dark. 

“About what?” You ask, lifting yourself up to look at him. He swallows around the lump in his throat.

“Losin’ you. Losin’ Ellie. Losin’ Tommy.” A pause. “Like I lost Sarah. And Tess.”

“Fear doesn’t stop death, Joel. It just stops you from living.”

________

Something changes in Joel with your words. He lifts his head from the pillow to kiss you, his body shifting beneath yours to push you onto your back so he can hover over you. This kiss is different, more desperate as his tongue slides against yours and his teeth dig into your bottom lip. 

You slide your fingers into his hair, nails scratching against his scalp and making him moan into your kiss. He trails his lips across your jaw and down your neck as he urges your legs apart and fits himself in the space between your thighs.

His hips rock against yours, the friction making you gasp and pull on his hair. He chuckles against the skin of your neck before sinking his teeth against your pulse point, sucking a mark into your skin to match the one he’s left on your heart.

One of his warm hands lifts your borrowed shirt, bunching the material beneath your armpits and exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. Joel dips his head to pull one nipple between his lips and he swirls his tongue over the hard bud, looking up at your face as he does. He does the same to your other breast, the delicious sensation of his mouth almost enough to distract you from the slow drag of his calloused fingers across your tummy and beneath the elastic of the boxers he’s leant to you.

He groans as his fingers circle your clit, gathering your wetness and spreading it over your folds with his movements. He leans up to kiss you again, deep swipes of his tongue exploring your mouth as your hips chase his hand with increasing fervor.

“You’re so good, sweetheart,” he murmurs. There’s a bright flash of lightning that illuminates the room, giving you a clearer view of the adoration simmering in his eyes.

You press a hand to his cheek. “You deserve good things, Joel Miller.”

He drops his head, forehead pressed to your collarbone. He slips two fingers inside of you as thunder rattles the windows, the storm overhead matching the one in your body as he works his digits with slow, methodical movements, curling them with each pull from inside of you. 

“Need you,” you whimper, “please, Joel, need you.”

“You got me,” he says, sitting up to tug the boxers down your thighs and pull the waistband of his down, freeing his cock that he takes on his fist, rubbing it through your folds.

He notches the thick head of his cock at your entrance, pressing inside of you with a single deep thrust that has you gasping his name. There’s another crack of lightning as he bottoms out, hips pressed flush to yours.

Joel starts to move, setting a leisurely pace, notably unhurried as you relish in the weight of him against you. His forehead drops to yours and he peppers your face with soft kisses, from your forehead to your nose to your chin. You smile at him and to your surprise and delight, he grins back.

He sits up, gripping your hips for leverage as his rhythm changes to something more carnal, more desperate, sharp thrusts that drag against something inside of you that makes stars dance across your vision. You’re moaning his name with each collision of his hips to yours and his head drops back with his own deep groan as you tighten around him with your release.

“Fuck,” he shouts, withdrawing quickly and taking himself in hand, hot splashes of cum hitting your stomach as you gasp for air. Joel leaves the bed for a moment and returns with a damp cloth he uses to wipe you clean before tossing it to the pile of wet clothes and climbing back into bed beside you.

He pulls you close and with your head on his chest, you let the pounding rhythm of his heart lull you back to sleep. 

________

“Look how high I got, daddy!” 

Joel watches a young Sarah deftly climb the limbs of a tree she found on their hike. He laughs as she straddles the last branch she can reach, waving down at him with a bright grin on her face. 

“That’s mighty impressive, baby girl, but can you get back down?” He shouts up at her. 

“Of course I can!” She insists, slowly working her way back down the branches. She makes it to a lower branch but she can’t reach a foothold from where she hangs by her arms. “Daddy!”

“I gotcha,” Joel says, moving to stand below her. “Just let go, I’ll catch ya.”

“Promise?”

“Always.”

Joel’s eyes flutter open. The first thing he notices is the sunlight streaming through the open window. You must have woken up before him and opened it. The room is warm from the late summer sun, but there’s a breeze that rustles the curtains as he stands and stretches.

He can hear the clink of pans downstairs and he follows the noise, leaning in the doorway of the kitchen as he finds you whisking something in a bowl. It’s been weeks since that early morning together in bed and every day since you continue to help put him together piece by jagged piece.

You must feel him there, attuned to him as you always are, because you turn and grin brightly at him.

“There you are,” you say, crossing the kitchen to kiss him. “Was wondering when you’d finally wake up.”

“Can’t a man sleep in once and a while?” He asks, pulling you in for a second and third kiss. “What are you workin’ on?”

“A cake. It’s July 20th.”

Sarah’s birthday. 

Joel’s breath leaves him in a rush. He wraps his arms around your shoulders and holds you tightly to him, your arms wrapped around his waist as you squeeze back.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“Always.”

Want more Joel Miller? Check out my masterlist.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Harvest Moon

Steven Grant X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 4: Sex Pollen

Summary: Being Khonshu's avatar has some... unexpected effects.

A/N: I'm so sorry. Set before Steven knows about Marc.

Warnings: sex pollen - so dubcon (both sides are effected, Steven more than reader and both had a crush on the other before they were infected), love bites, cum eating, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, cream pie, cuming in troursers, so much cuuuuummmm, typos, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 4073

Steven couldn’t concentrate. 

It was strange, a fidget just below his skin. Like every muscle was contracting and relaxing at random intervals.

He took off his reading glasses and sighed, rubbing his eyes to try to shift whatever was going on. Maybe he was tired. 

Which didn’t make much sense. He was always tired. 

Perhaps this was the accumulation of trying to survive on three hours of sleep or less every day for most of his adult life. 

He tried again to focus on the book in front of him, leaning an elbow on his desk. The words twitched on the page, flickered as if they were going to jump up and run off the paper at any moment. 

The strange thing was, he didn’t feel tired. Quite the opposite in fact. He was full of energy, jittery as if he’d just downed five coffees made with Red Bull instead of water and a handful of Pro Plus. (Though, he usually steered clear of coffee - for some reason it made him sleepy.) 

Still, the fidgety, restless energy seemed to only build. Grow deep in the pit of his belly and squirm around like he’d swallowed live eels that were now making a home in his large intestine. 

It almost burned, the blood in his veins boiling from the inside. He stood up, agitated and restless. Maybe, maybe he just needed to go for a walk. Use up some anxious energy, yeah, that was it. 

Steven glanced at his phone, it was 19:54, not late. He could maybe walk to the corner shop and back. The fresh air would help. Surely that would put him right. 

He stood, fighting the urge to shake his muscles, and put on his trainers. 

Yeah, go out, go to the shop, come back, he’d feel better. He’d feel so much better. 

“I’ll be back in a sec' Gus.” He gave the goldfish a little wave as he put on his jacket and checked that he had his keys. 

That restless energy, the burn of it seemed to increase, grow even as he moved. Buzzed behind his eyes. 

Slowly, Marc was pulled forward, woken from deep down. He watched Steven move from the reflection in the fish tank, confused for a moment until… he recognised that energy, those sensations that were running along their nerves. 

Panic gripped hold of him as he tried to force his way to the front, to push Steven back. 

But… nothing. 

He swore and tried again, not caring if Steven heard him, he needed to take control, get the body to the storage locker, steal the door and take those medical-grade tranquillisers he hid under the mattress. 

How could he have been so stupid? How could he have lost track of the days so badly? 

He pushed forward again, trying to seize control. But it was hopeless like he was separated by a thick layer of glass. 

This was bad, this was bad, this was bad, this was so very, very bad. 

There was a small breeze, cool air that made Steven turn, look over his shoulder and glance about the flat for a window he had left open. Nothing. 

Marc swore loudly. This was Khonshu’s doing. It had to be. 

The god had been uncharacteristically silent the last few days, and quiet the previous couple of weeks. Luring Marc into a false sense of security and letting him give more and more time up to Steven. 

Poor Steven, who had no idea what he was in store for. 

The first time it had happened Marc had thought he was going to die. The way his heart beat, his blood burned, every single muscle crying out at once. He’d had enough panic attacks in his life to know that this certainly wasn’t one, and for a brief moment, he thought that he had been poisoned. 

It wasn’t until Khonshu appeared and explained. The phase of the moon at that time of the lunar year. It had been a cause of celebration, festivals honouring new life. And due to Marc’s role as an avatar, he was ‘gifted’ with the effects. 

A gift he would very much like to return and never see again. 

Khonshu had been… displeased by Marc’s rejection, by his unwillingness to observe the traditions of the old ways. But had stayed quiet when Marc sealed himself away and knocked himself out.

Marc had wrongly assumed that the moon god had got over it. Realised that there was no way his avatar would take part. 

He didn’t think he would use Steven instead. 

Marc had to take control, had to stop him from going outside, from running into other people and experiencing the effects. He tried to push forward again to no avail as Steven stepped out of the flat, his mind buzzing. 

Steven blinked heavily, trying to shift the little spots of light that had started to dance just at the very corners of his vision. He fumbled with his keys for a second, sweat beading on his forehead. When had the corridor become so hot? He pulled at his collar, trying to cool himself. 

There was a warmth growing in his lower stomach, and heavy an uncomfortable weight, like lead straining at his muscles. He needed… something. There was an odd carving at the back of his throat, a constriction of his windpipe that seemed to pull at-

“Hi Steven.”

He turned suddenly, his body moving well before his mind had even caught up. 

You smiled at him from the other side of the corridor as you stood outside your flat, your bag pulled over your shoulder, keys in hand.

Oh no, oh no, oh no, no, no. Marc screamed inside the headspace. Not you, not you, anyone but you. 

You had moved in a little over three months ago. Had smiled and chatted briefly with Steven when you both ran into each other in the lift. 

It was only four weeks ago when Steven had found himself outside in the streets of London late at night (sleepwalking again). He had managed to get back to the flat with the help of city mapper and it was only when he was outside the block of flats that he realised he didn’t have his keys. 

After a few nervous minutes, he had pressed your buzzer with shaking hands and stumbled out an apology. To his absolute shock and dizzying relief, you can come down to let him in with a kind smile. You had even invited him into your own home while he waited for the 24 locksmith to arrive. Served him cups of tea and vegan shortbread biscuits while you both talked. 

Steven had been quietly remorseful when the locksmith finally arrived. 

As he was leaving you had invited him to a live music event you were going to at the Fox and Firkin, but sadly Steven had been working that weekend. 

He had been steadily working up the courage to ask you out, something casual. Relaxed. Informal. So you both could talk and maybe he would get a chance to judge your interest on a proper date. But the longer he left it, the more awkward it seemed. The more nights he spent in the shower fisting his palm and moaning your name behind his hand. 

Marc pressed harder against the mental block, swearing under his breath as he fought for control. 

Steven’s pulse quickened, heat prickling all over his skin as blood rushed downwards. He swallowed, the embarrassment that he would normally experience completely swept away by a deep mind-numbing ache. “Hi.” He whispered. 

You frown a little. He looked like he was in a daze, his skin flushed and pupils wide. “You okay?” 

The softness in your voice, the genuine concern for him made Steven snap. A small growl escaped his chest. It was like all his senses had heightened and pinpointed, narrowed. He needed you. 

“Ste-”

He moves faster than you thought possible, surging forward and pinning you to the wall with a bruising strength that knocks the air from your lungs. You don’t even have time to gasp before his lips are on yours, his hands on your waist as he pushes his thigh between your legs.

You murmur his name into his mouth, your surprise cut off by the glide of his tongue and how his body presses into yours. 

Marc smacks against the barrier fruitlessly, unable to do much more than watch as Steven’s sensations begin to bleed into his own muscles. 

Steven’s skin is feverish, heat rolling off him in waves as he grinds against you. The hard outline of his cock presses against your stomach, you can almost feel his rapid heartbeat through the denim of his jeans. 

Instinctively you react to him, grabbing hold of his shoulder and neck as you kiss him back and slide your tongue against his as he kisses you greedily. For a second you’re sure you're dreaming. It’s the only possible explanation. There’s no way that your lovely, and seemingly oblivious to your every attempt at flirting, neighbour would suddenly jump you on a Thursday night and snog the life out of you.  

You pull at his hair, lightly at first, but increasing the pressure when that does nothing. You barely manage to yank his head back an inch before his lips are on yours again, all tongue and teeth as he nips a trail down to your jaw and sucks a messy bruise just below your ear. 

Somehow you manage to hold down your whimpered moan and speak, “Steven, what’s… I mean-oh shit-” You cut yourself off, biting down on your lip as his hand slide up to squeeze your breast, his thumb brushing over your hardening nipple. 

There’s a faint ghost of a breeze, though from where you’re not sure. For a second a small wave of dizziness and heat run across your skin. 

“Steven,” you try again even though you're pressing up against his every touch eagerly. “What’s going on?”

He groans against your neck. “I’m-I’m so sorry, I don’t know, I can’t, I need you so badly, I just,” he tries to halt his movements, to take his hands off your body, but the second he’s a fraction of a millimetre away from you an intense pain drills along his spine. He whimpers and presses closer, continuing to rub his heavy cock against your thigh. 

“Did you take something?” You gasp, breathless as you try (and fail) to not grind your hips in time with his. It’s the only explanation, right? Though if there was a drug that made someone intensely horny you were sure you’d have heard about it by now. 

He shakes his head, his mouth too preoccupied with sicking more love bites into your neck to speak. 

“Do you think someone could have drugged you?” 

Steven mutters something intelligible as he sinks his teeth into your skin and a strangled moan escapes your lips. This wasn’t right, none of this way right. Heat, stronger than anything you’d ever experienced before, began to burn in your lower belly. You had a crush on him, sure. You’d happily go on a date with him and be down for more after but this… You’d never been so desperate to fuck someone in your entire life. 

It was like you were starting to lose the ability to think clearly, and you were worryingly sure that if you let this go on much longer you wouldn’t have any issue with riding Steven right there in the middle of the hallway. 

“Steven,” you yanked his head back again by his hair, using an amount of force that would have normally been painful. 

Instead, Steven groaned, closing his eyes as he arched back exposing the taunt lines of his neck for you. 

“Love, please.” He whispered, though what he was begging for exactly, neither of you were sure. 

“Let’s go inside.” You muttered, rushing your words together in an effort to hold yourself together for a little while longer. 

You turn, just managing to struggle out of Steven’s grip to put your keys in the lock and open your front door. 

Steven moans as you move, but quickly goes back to grinding against you. Pressing himself up against the swell of your ass and sighing as he kisses your neck. 

You practically fall inside from Steven’s weight pushing against your back. But his strong hands on your hips keep you upright. His fingers slip under your top, greedily searching for your soft skin as you manage to close the door before he’s on top of you again.

He pushes you against the door, your chest pressed up against the wood as he pinches your nipples through the lace of your bra. He growls as you moan and arch back into him, your nails digging into the wood grain. 

He ruts against your ass, rubbing his clothed erection against your soft flesh with a burning vigour. The weeping head of his cock is soaking into his boxers, but he can’t stop himself, can’t break away for a single moment, can’t spare the few seconds it would take to undress. 

His little gasps and whimpers of air as he picks up his pace sends a flood of heat to your core and you gasp as he bites down on your neck hard. His left hand continues to squeeze your breast while his right snakes down and pushes under your leggings and underwear. 

There is the tiniest voice in the back of your head, a worry that you would normally have that things are going too fast, but Steven’s moans in your ears, the feeling of his hands on you drowns everything out. 

He presses his forefinger against your clit and moans at the wetness that he finds between your legs. Quickly, he circles your bundle of nerves over and over in time with the manic grind of his hips. 

His breathing stutters. Just being pressed up against you like this is too good, the burning along his veins turning into molten lava as he continues to buck like his life depended on it. 

The coil in his stomach starts to tighten uncontrollably, pressure at the base of his spine exploding outwards and-

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He moans loudly as he cums in his trousers, the pleasure whiting out all other thoughts as his hips falter. 

You slow your movements down, coming to a stop as Steven breaths hard against your back. You open your mouth to speak, to ask him if he feels better. But you never get the chance. 

In a blur he’s spinning you around, kissing your mouth harshly enough to knock your head back against the door with a thud. You barely register that despite obviously cumming, (the wetness on his jeans that press into you) he’s still rock hard and sweaty. His pulse thumps under your hands, so fast that you can barely distinguish each beat. 

He pulls you to the ground, practically lifting you off your feet, and tearing off your clothes as if they had personally offended him. You try to undress him, barely getting his jacket off his shoulders and not even starting on his t-shirt before he’s kissing down your body and shoving his face into your core. 

You gasp as he places a long flat lick through your folds, groaning at the taste and grinding his cock against the carpet. 

“Steven-”

“Need to make you cum, please,” his voice is gravelly and wrecked, burnt out and desperate but he doesn’t stop the movement of his tongue, ending the lick by sucking at your clit and quickly slipping two fingers inside you. 

He curls them perfectly, looking up at you with dark, pleading eyes. Pleasure sparks along your nerves as he fucks you hard with his fingers, watching your every reaction as he keeps his lips sucking firmly against your clit. 

You moan loudly, enough that you’re probably going to get a noise complaint, and screw up your eyes, your back arching off the carpet. 

The stretch of his thick fingers makes you whine as they work you open, finding every spot to make you fall apart as quickly as possible.

You grab hold of Steven’s hair with one hand, pressing him firmly against you and another low growl erupts from his chest as he pulls your left thigh over his shoulder and picks up the pace. 

His tongue and fingers move in a hypnotic tandem, dragging you closer and closer to the edge with a dizzying speed. Your toes curl, your breath catching in your throat and all you can do is just feel that mind-numbing pleasure he is pulling you towards.

His name falls out of your mouth in a repeated jumble as you move against him thoughtlessly, your hips chasing every touch. 

Steven moans against you, flicking your clit with the very tip of his tongue before sucking on it ruthlessly and stars explode behind your eyes.

You cum against him with a sob as your strength rushes out of you like a dam has been broken, your muscles clenching around him in utter bliss. 

But all too quickly for your liking his pulling his fingers out of you and sitting up. You’re barely back to thinking straight as you lean up on your elbows, about to question him when you stop in your tracks, your mouth hanging open.

Steven groans as he shoves his fingers into his mouth, lapping up your creamy release. He pushes at his aching cock with the heel of his free hand, his hips jerking up into the touch. He looks like a god, skin flushed and sweaty, his hair dishevelled and sticking out at windswept angles. Your cum all over the bottom half of his face. 

He gives you a dark look, his eyes almost blind with lust as he struggles to undo his fly without taking his fingers out of his mouth. 

You lean up and quickly help him, marvelling at the strength in his thick thighs as he kicks them free of his jeans and boxers. 

Your mouth goes dry and you swallow at the sight of him, the tip flushed and needy. Thick and long and you pause. Fuck. He was big, really big. Clarity seems to flash in your mind for the first time since you both went into your flat. How the hell were you going to fit that inside you?

Steven growls, kisses your neck, scraping his teeth over your pulse point and already edging forward as you lift up his t-shirt over his head. 

Being away from you for a second hurts. Makes his stomach twist and nerves scream. His dick twitches impatiently, already smearing precum (and his release from before) all over your thighs as he pushes himself between your legs. 

“Steven,” you start to say. The needy whine in your voice hampering your words. 

“Yes love?” He forces you back down and takes himself in hand. 

“I just, I’m-oh!” 

He’s not even thinking about his actions before he’s already sheathing himself inside your tight, wet heat. 

You gasp loudly, grabbing hold of his shoulders as he pushes impossibly deep, making you fuller than you have ever been and still he’s pressing deeper. 

You whine out his name in a sob as he bucks against you, pulling out a little before he pushes further in, stretching you wide. 

He swears under his breath, his eyes closed, brows furrowed together as he pulls out a centimetre before sinking deeper. Out, in, out, in, out, in, until finally he bottoms out. And it's heaven.

Steven doesn’t even give you a second to adjust to his size before he’s fucking you hard, bucking his hips like he wants to completely destroy you. Needs you to shatter under him. 

You’re so full you can practically feel him in your throat, the stretch so deep that it’s like he’s pushed all your internal organs higher, limiting your lung space and not letting you take a full breath. 

He grabs hold of the backs of your thighs, snarling as he forces them towards your chest, his fingers pressing bruises into your skin as he positions you into a mating press. His hips never falter, continuing their deep, hard onslaught that hits at a part of you you didn’t know existed. Every thrust sends a wave of pleasure up your spine, so perfect that it’s almost inhuman. Your slick coats his cock, smearing on his thighs as he fucks you within an inch of your life. 

“Steven,” you whine, your eyes rolling back as your second orgasm hurtles towards you. 

“Fuck, love,” he growls in your ear, biting at your neck. “So wet for me, so needy, I’m gonna break you, I’m gonna make you all mine.”

You moan loudly. Pleasure beginning to drown out every thought. His public bone grinds against your clit, making you want to scream.

“You know how many times I’ve cum thinking about you and what you’d taste like?” He growls as he snaps his hips in a relentless rhythm. “So fucking better than anything I could imagine.” 

You grab hold of him, your muscles tightening as his words send you over the edge. You cum hard, crying out as he ruts into you through it. 

He snarls as he cums, but his hips don’t stop as he pumps load after load of his spend into you and fucks it deeper until you're completely full. 

Your breathing starts to recover momentarily, but Steven is still rock hard and hitting that devastating spot inside of you so perfectly that it makes your head spin. 

Pleasure starts to creep back into your stomach and you whine, sobbing at the overstimulation. 

“Love, I’m so sorry,” he bites his lip, trying to slow his hips to no avail. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 

“It’s okay,” you manage to stammer out as his thrusts punch the air from your lungs. “Don’t stop.” Tears start to form in the corners of your eyes. Too much, but you needed more. The idea of him stopping now boarding on painful. 

“Won’t stop, promise.” He moans against your lips, pushing you closer to the edge again. “Fuck!” He pulls out quickly and you whine. 

But you're barely given a second to lament the loss before Steven’s pulling you up with him. Your limbs are like jelly and you’re thankful for his surprising strength as he turns you around. 

You expect him to enter you doggy style but instead, he kneels down, his hands on your thighs and under your knees, and lowers you onto his cock with a dizzying speed. Your moan catches in your throat as he fills you. The stretch of this angle is intense as the head of his cock presses perfectly against that sweet spot inside. 

Steven groans as your walls clench around him, your own slick mixing with his cum to let him glide in. 

He places your legs outside of his and grabs hold of your breast with his right hand, kneading and squeezing it in time with his deep thrusts as his left toys and circles your clit. 

He bounces you up and down on his cock as he mouths at your neck, adding to the love bites from before, his chest pressed flush to your back. 

“S-Steven,” you barely get the word out, your nerves flayed raw with pleasure as he keeps pushing you higher and higher. You’re weak, light-headed and desperate as he growls in your ear; as he plays your body, brings you closer again like he had every cell memorised. “I’m gonna,” you sob. You don’t even get to finish the sentence. 

Another deep trust and you cum, squirming on his lap in bliss as your orgasm overtakes you. 

Steven swears, bucking up into you and biting his lip as your wall clench around him, trying to squeeze out every last drop as he follows you into that mind-shattering ecstasy. 

He cums deep, some spilling down his cock despite how tightly he is pressed inside, your pussy just too full to hold anymore. 

As you breathe deeply, trying to recover he holds you tightly, his hips still bucking upwards. His hard length still pushing firmly inside you. 

“Love,” he whines, reaching down again to stroke your clit. “Please, just one more, just one more.” 

How could you ever deny him? 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading! I'm not doing my normal tag list for kinktober as to not overwhelm anyone, please let me know if you'd like to be added/taken off.

@flightlessangelwings @steven-grants-world @lonelyisamyw-0love @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moon @campingwiththecharmings @minigirl87

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[gomzwrites]

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

a/n: all aboard the h0rny choo choo train

Pairing: Professor John Price x fem!reader x Mr Simon Riley

contain smut(18+), minors bACK OFF, AGELESS & UNTITLED ACCOUNTS WILL BE BLOCKED!!

Notes:

✎…Banner taken from Pinterest ✎…Reader's texts are in purple ✎…Want to be added into a tag list? click here ✎…Part 1 is introduction, just me setting the scene for our reader and displaying the vibes from Price and Riley in this AU ✎…Part 2 (you're here!) is smut :) ✎…Chocolate is just my thoughts, process, notes, recommendations and future planning for the series, I welcome discussions over there if you're interested :D

Tags: ungodly amount of praises(self indulgent fr), power dynamic(dom!Price), sub!fem reader, sub!Simon(*winks* -whimpering and stuff yk), oral(f!receiving - Price giving), p in v sex(Simon fucking ya), very small dash/hint of exhibitionism, implication of Price x Ghost (they kissed and Price dom both u and Ghost), aftercare - let me know if I missed anything else

➵ Part 1 | ➵ Part 2

ogeh for those who didn't read part 1, in short you're now in Price's office with Simon and the spicy is about to happen after you consent wheeze-

Yes…yes please…

You managed to speak as their faces leaned closer, staring at your lips as they fought to kiss you, foreheads brushing each other harshly as Prof. Price let out a frustrated sigh.

Let her choose then.

Once again, they stare back at you, Prof. Price giving you a smirk as he traced his hand around your neck while Mr. Riley tilted your chin, giving you a desperate stare as you gulped. You let out a soft chuckle as you darted your eyes between them.

Will this affect my grades?

That made them stop dead in their tracks, before Prof Price laughed hard. You felt the rumble and vibration of his chest on your back as Mr. Riley scoffs. 

Only one way to find out.

You blushed slightly as you contemplated, your eyes flicking over to Prof Price’s lips and then to Riley’s, but ultimately you reached out your hands and leaned forward towards him.

M-Mr. Riley sir...

Call me Simon, love.

A smug look is evident on his face as Prof Price only hums and lets go of you. Simon held your hands and brushed your wrists slightly as he stared into your eyes before closing in the distance, ghosting his lips slightly on yours as he asked once again.

Are you sure you want this?

You nodded again before a few taps on your neck reminded you.

Yes….Simon….

With the way his name rolled off your tongue, he let out another breath as he finally connected his lips to you. It was soft and sweet, slow and gentle, as if he were testing the water, one eye opening to see you in the midst of the kiss to observe you. You were in complete bliss, with your eyes closed as you melted under him, memorising every feeling and taste of his hot lips on yours. As you pulled apart slightly, he only gave you half a second to breathe before he latched onto you again; this time the kiss was much more aggressive and desperate.

God, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do this.

He breathes between kisses, hands holding onto your cheek as you moan softly, feeling ticklish when Prof Price also indulges himself on you, trailing wet kisses around your neck while he holds onto your waist, trailing downwards slowly before giving your thigh a squeeze through your skirt.

P-professor…?

Let me feel you, sweetheart, can I?

He rasped against your ears as you gave a nod, muttering a small “yes” to which Prof Price immediately turned you to face him, so now your back is leaning against Simon. You watched with anticipation as Prof Price let his hand roam around your thighs through the fabric, teasingly squeezing sometimes, before he grabbed the end of your skirt, pushing it upwards to your hips until your legs were in full display.

Christ, so this is what you’ve been hiding from us...

He licked his lips before holding your ankle, putting featherlight kisses from there as he trailed up towards your hips, deliberately not giving your inner thighs the attention as he hummed. You let out a shaky exhale as he stopped just shy of where your underwear is, which is still hidden under your skirt.

Be a good girl, and show us, would you?

Simon whispered into your ears, hands moving down from your hips down to your thighs, slowly pulling them apart and holding them up with his rough hands. You were beyond flushed at this rate as you realised how wet you were, an obvious damp forming in your high-rise brief that was baby blue with floral patterns of white camellia and tiny roses. You could hear Simon let out a small chuckle as he looked down.

Cute.

Prof Price tuts as he runs his hands along the lace at the waist opening, tugging it slightly and watching it snap, making your skin jolt slightly as you let out a quiet whine.

Professor…please…

Please, what hm?

You bit your lips as you turned away, burying your neck in Simon’s chest while your hands were twisting on his shirt. Simon kissed your head, his voice deep and low, as he urged you again by squeezing your thighs.

You've got to tell him what you want, that’s what good girls do yes?...

You take in another sharp inhale before finally muttering as you flutter your eyelashes and glance at Prof Price with doe eyes.

Can you touch me more? D-down there… please sir?

Attagirl…

He gives you a kiss on your forehead before finally tracing his finger around your brief and pressing his thumb on your aching clit, giving you the attention you desperately needed. He starts trailing a circle around it before using his fingers and swiping along your folds with an up and down motion, hissing at how incredibly wet you are.

Shit… all this for me? Mmm fuck…

You swallowed your moans, cranking your neck deeper into Simon’s chest and arching your back slightly every time his knuckles barely touched your clit. Prof Price seized this opportunity by kissing your exposed neck and gently nibbling it, careful not to leave any marks as he groans.

You needed more.

You grab his arm, fingers digging slightly into his biceps as you stare back at him with half-lidded eyes, your mind already foggy when they barely did anything.

Prof Price seemed to get your wordless pleas and smirk against your neck, giving it one more bite on your neck before he retracted his fingers as well. You looked back at him with a confused expression, watching as he gave Simon a look before kneeling before you as he rested his hands on your inner thigh.

Almost like on cue, Simon then takes off your brief, stuffing it into his pocket as he leans back, pulling you with him as he wraps his arm around your waist, expertly pulling the skirt and tossing it away. You gulped hard as you took in the situation, shaky hands covering your mouth as you stared down nervously.

You felt Prof Price’s hot breath against your now soaking sex; you heard him mumble something before he kissed your clit, then slowly on your entire folds, groaning against it and sending electric waves of pleasure straight to your spine. He licks up a stripe of your slit, making you whimper as you let out a muffled moan.

Want to hear you, pretty girl.

The vibration of his voice on your core makes you dizzy. You comply as you let go of your hand, unsure where to place it before deciding to rest it on Prof Price’s hair.

That’s it...use whatever you can grab and hang on to it.

He whispers before sucking your clit, another moan escapes as you try to close your legs, but Prof Price’s hands were firm, pressing and pinning your leg as he continued lapping at your pussy, taking in every sweet juice that was leaking out of your hole. You mewled, hands gripping onto his hair, legs already trembling as you felt the familiar coiling feeling around your tummy. As you slowly let more noises out, choking out a sob moan when you felt Prof Price’s tongue drawing letters on your bundle of nerves, you felt a pair of hands sneaking under your white button shirt, slowly raising up until it rested on your bra, fingers clasping around it with ease as Simon whispered into your ears.

Feels good, hm?

You let out a whine as he pulled down your bra, rosy pink nipples so hard that they were poking out from your shirt. He gave a low curse as he groped around your meaty flesh, trailing circles around your nipples as he kissed your ears, pinching them and smirking as he was satisfied that he had pulled a few high-pitched moans from you with that action. 

With the combination of Professor Price’s brutal pace of eating you out like it was his last meal and Simon’s teasing touches on your breast, you were quick to turn into a whiny, moaning mess. Pleas and names fall from your mouth as your body shutters from the pleasure you were receiving.

f-fuck…mmm…please please please-

Fuckk… taste so good love, god if I would’ve known-

Good girl, shhhhh shh shh....doing so well for us, hmmm?

Simon hushed and swallowed every sound you made when you got a bit too loud by kissing you deep, groaning, and letting out a small "mmhmm" himself as Prof Price thrust his tongue into your drenched pussy. He could feel you twitching as he dived deeper into you, his nose nudging your sensitive clit in the best way as he angled himself.

F-fuck…mmm s-sir!! No wait- haaaah - mmmm gonna cum-

Come for me darling, come on my tongue...I know you can do it

P-Price!!

With a silent yell and head thrown back, you arch your back as you come into his mouth, his deep groan sending your head spiralling as he remains still, lapping away the remaining juices until you push yourself away, whimpering when the oversensitivity starts to hurt.

Goddamn, you taste so fucking good, sweet girl.

He whispered as he stood up; you watched as your spend was covering his beard, glistening under the light; he licked on his lip as he gave you a devilish smirk; then leaning in as you felt you get pushed up, then you hear another groan and a soft moan.

Simon was kissing Price, licking around his lips and panting as he tried to take up all the juices. The scene made you blush at how hot that looked. Simon pulled away as a string of saliva connects between his and Price’s lips, staring back at you as he wiped it away with the back of his palm. 

He removed his shirt and trousers, revealing his toned body adorned with an intricate tattoo that covers his sleeves. You gasped slightly as you ran your fingers over them before getting lifted up by Price as he once again pulled you in to lean on his back.

You watch as Simon now stands before you, essentially getting caged in the middle between them as he kisses you. You can almost taste your own through his lips as the heated make-out continues. He pulled away, grinding himself on your thigh as you let out a moan, feeling just how hard and how big he was. You gave a gulp as you looked down and saw the obvious tent in his boxers, which…had skull patterns.

A small breath left your chest in a wheeze as Simon frowned slightly, biting your neck as he whispered huskily.

What’s so funny, hm?

You giggled slightly before whispering back as you tugged his boxers slightly.

Nothing.

He hums back a reply and watches as you slowly pull down his boxers, bit by bit, until his cock sprung free from the confines. You let out a gasp when you realised just how thick and veiny he is, and god you can already tell you’re gonna feel him for days. 

Oh…

You mumble with a blushing face as you slide your hand and circle the tip with your thumb. Simon groans as he leans forward with both arms resting on the table beside Price, his head digging into your neck as he kisses sloppily.

You can take him, can you?

You bite your lips as you stroke Simon further, anxiously nodding as Price nibbles on your ears, then he lifts one of your legs up with his hand as Simon lines himself up to your entrance. Anticipation pooling in your eyes as you hold your breath, feeling the tip of his cock slip up and down your folds, collecting the juices you had and mixing them with his precum. With a whispered warning, Simon then pushes the tip in as both of you groan in unison.

You grabbed onto his shoulder as he slowly eased in his length, shushing and cooing you the entire process before finally nestling deep inside of you. You felt him twitch as he let out a shaky exhale.

Fuck you’re so goddamn tight….shhhh shh I know I know, doing so well for me sweet girl…a-ah fuck…this pussy…

You whimpered and sobbed slightly when his hard cock bumped your cervix, claws digging into his back as pain and pleasure mixed together. He laid still for a few moments before breathless whisper into your ears. 

Can I move now…please? God you feel so good…

As you moan in reply and move your hips, he takes that as a yes as he slowly pulls out before completely plunging back into you in one motion. Your grip on him gets tighter as you dig your nails into his back, the action only spurring him further as he picks up his pace, biting down on your neck as he leaves the first of many purple spots on your soft skin.

F-fuck…s-so big… God, you feel so good. Si….hah-p-please…

Your pleas and moans got much louder, which was immediately handled as Price covered your mouth, his fingers digging into your thighs with a harsher force as he shushed you.

Shh shh…yeah feels good on his dick isnt it? But you need to be quiet darling…hush now…anyone can walk in on us…

That made your insides clench, and Simon groaned with a hiss as your gummy wall contracted around him, practically milking him at this rate. The fact that you could be caught at any moment, the risk of it all turned you on.

You nearly wailed when Simon hit you just right on the soft, spongy spot of yours. You felt him smiling against your neck as he readjusted himself, getting closer to you as he continued to strike at your weakest, most sensitive spot. You felt your orgasm quickly arriving as tears pricked at the edge of your eyes.

Mmmm-mmclose-!

You whimpered in a muffled tone as Price kissed the nape of your neck and Simon began to thrust faster.

Fuck….thats it…come on, this cock...be a good girl and come for me-

You were about to have the best orgasm of your life before a knock on the door made everything stop. It was as if time was frozen as you held your breath, horror and panic seeping into your eyes as you trembled. You could even feel Simon’s change in demeanour as he bit his lips.

Professor? This is Dr Gaz, ye free mate?

You glanced back up at Price with glossy eyes as you shook your head. Who knew what he said earlier was actually going to happen? And speaking of what he said, were the doors even locked?

However, it seems Price was unbothered, only giving you a calm look, but something about his eyes made you rethink that. You were right in your guts as Price slightly pushed you forward, making you jolt as it meant pushing yourself further into Simon’s dick, and that made Simon fucking whimpers as he choked on his breath. Price tsked softly as he yanked Simon’s hair, forcing him to look at him.

Quiet, you don’t want to get caught again, do you?

Simon hissed before nodding slightly, a frown and desperate look evident on his face.

Good boy.

You swear that you felt his already hard cock grow, stretching you out further as you bite on your lips, drawing blood at this rate as you try to hide your sounds, but it is incredibly difficult, especially when you are seconds away from achieving your high.

Price? Huh, it looks like he’s out.

You waited with shaky breaths, hearing until the sound of footsteps faded out, before relaxing again, sighing in relief, then hitching your breath again when Simon started moving suddenly at a relentless pace.

W-wait!! waitwaitwait-aH!

You slurred your words as Simon pounded you, feeling his ragged breathing and whines as he himself chased his high.

Fuckkk im not gonna last… shit-

S-Simon!!

You choked out as you clung onto him, your walls spasming around him as you felt his hips stuttering as he dug himself impossibly deep inside you.

Where do you want it, pretty girl?

Price rasped into your eyes as your mind grew hazy, pressing his hand onto your tummy, which made you almost scream out as you tried to answer back, drooling slightly as you barely got the words out.

o-outside… aHhh shit- mmmm g-gonna c-comeee!

G-good girl….hngn…go on... I want to feel you come. Come for me, my good girl-

You succumbed to the overwhelming feeling as you arched your back and threw your head backwards, clenching around Simon’s cock like a vice as he lay still, moaning into your ears as he waited till you came down from your high. He hissed as he took out his drenched dick, furiously pumping it as you slumped onto Price.

S-Simon…

You urged him on as you shakily caressed his neck; he rested his forehead on yours as he finally came, uttering strings of "yes" and your name as he let out ropes of white onto your tummy.

Good job, you did so well for us...such a good, good girl...and you did well too Simon...

Price purred as he gave Simon’s hair a ruffle before kissing your head as well. You breathed out with a satisfying smile as you picked up some of Simon’s spend and watched it trail around your finger, utterly in bliss as Simon watched you lick it and moan around your own digits.

God damn minx...

All three of you took a moment to calm down, basking in the afterglow, before you felt Price holding you up and carrying you to the sofa nearby, carefully placing you down on the soft fabric as he motioned to Simon with a tilt of his head. You heard shuffling sounds; presumably Simon was picking up his and your stuff as Price left, only to return later with a damped hanky as he wiped your tummy and thighs, being attentive as he avoided your sensitive area.

You blushed at the softness of their actions as Simon helped you wear back your skirt. You tried to sit up to leave only to be pushed back down by Price.

Rest for a bit, I’ll drive you back later.

You know where I live?

I don’t, as a matter of fact, but you can tell me later, alright, sweetheart?

You nodded and lay back down as Simon sat down beside you, with Price looming over you as he sat on the couch armrest.

A few silent moments passed before you cleared your throat as you spoke.

So do you guys do this often?...

Simon snapped his head back to you with widened eyes as you smiled, gesturing to yourself as you laughed.

Fucking your students, I mean...

No. We’ll admit, you’re the first.

Price said confidently as he poked your forehead, shaking his head in disapproval before he thought for a moment, locking his eyes with Simon, seeing his neck burning up as he turned away.

But we do have fun with each other sometimes.

John.

Oh, come on, it’s obvious now, isn’t it?

You hummed back as you stared at Simon, then back at Price, giggling slightly when Price flashed you a grin as Simon's face grew redder by the second.

Is that true, Simon?

He doesn’t answer you, only grunting as he glares at you from the corner of his eyes. You gave a laugh as you patted his back gently, grinning as you took in his bashful look, one that you wished to commit to your memory forever.

You wonder how the next encounter with them will be like as you let the situation sink in. Oh my god, you were quite literally fucked by your lecturers.

Next time, we should probably do this somewhere else. We can’t have others bother us again.

Simon nods at that as he rests his head on the couch beside you. 

wait….there’s a next time???

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a/n: okay look, Idk if anyone knows what im talking about when I was describing the undies, its these ones from Uniqlo- they're literally the most comfy undies ever and the lace doesn't itch at all XD I swear they're cute, anyways- come say hi in chocolate if you want to hear more of my thoughts with the fic

comments and reblogs are always appreciated :D

➵ chocolate