#people on here writing dubcon/noncon imagines about him

[shiveringsoldier]

Who is the best actor with the worst fanbase and why is it Cillian Murphy

[soullessdianthus]

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 | 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐀𝐔

❗ APOLOGIES for the tag list in the comments, Tumblr has an issue with tagging more than 5 people ❗

Summary: Victorian AU where you are hired by Lord Simon Riley as his housekeeper in the secluded countryside. Besides the gardener - Johnny, you barely sees anyone around the house and the strange things begin to happen around you. The manor, or rather its residents, hides a terryfing secret.

AO3 link ⟶ 𝕏

A/N: Huge thanks to @starsexplodeatnight who was so kind and sweet to help me with the fashion aspects of this fic. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Also, won't lie, @ohbo-ohno's works and Ghoap dynamics inspired me to go back to the roots and to write some darker, gothic romance with Ghoap and Reader. At least I tried. ╮(￣▽￣"")╭

Warnings: dark themes, religious themes, dubcon/noncon (full list on Ao3)

Word count: 7.6k

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐄

Lord Riley’s house seemed to be alive at times. The wind sweeping through the draughty windows fills the lungs of the great manor. Old, wooden flooring creaks and the glass strain within its frames. 

You hated how untamed your imagination was especially after nightfall, when the darkness creeped in every hollow and corner of the manor. Since the first day, every night you would leave a single candle lit on the bedside table just to ease the vivid imaginations. When you were a child your mother scolded you about reading such profanities about ghosts and curses. 

And now you knew why. If the candle wasn't lit, strange figures danced in the shadows, their eyes imprinting into your skin and if were they real, would they try to hurt you or rather warn you?

But now, as a grown up woman, those nightmares of your childhood came back to haunt you once again. 

With all of your heart you were grateful for Sir Jonathan Price, a friend of your family, who helped you get into Lord Riley’s favour. It was him who wrote a letter of recommendation to make it easier for you to find a good, suitable job as a woman of your status. 

But he didn’t mention once that the manor was so far from civilization. 

Johnny quickly became your closest confidant around here. A Scottish gardener whose brown hair reached down to his broad shoulders and sparkly eyes in the colour of clear sky. He took care of the gardens as well as master’s horses and sometimes you could find him repairing a fence or something of sort. Johnny was a hardworking man, only a few years older than you, but he was also gentle, clever and jolly.

Such an opposite to Lord Simon who was everything but what Scot was – silent, harsh former lieutenant who would rather spend his time in the solitude of his chambers. Otherwise he would go on a ride or hunt into the forest on one of his favourite studs. Simon’s face was pale as a ghost’s and covered with shallow scars, remnants of his service in the army. 

Nonetheless, the tall, portly man seemed to enjoy your presence, if you dared to assume that, purely because you were quick to adapt. Lord liked his silence and you did not want to disturb your master’s peace, wouldn’t you? 

Within a week you have learned the following pattern – each day started with breakfast, which you ate alongside Lord, sporadically noticing the presence of busy cook, Kyle Garrick, who didn’t happen to talk much. Then, you would proceed with your everyday duties. Which did not include sneaking around to go and talk with the gardener, but nevertheless you did.  

And as the evening would finally come, you were sitting in the playroom of the manor embroidering while Mr. Riley was reading his book. Even Johnny was allowed to come sit with both of you, gnawing at the wooden pipe between his teeth. It all felt so domestic in such a short period of time. 

And how could you believe such gossip about Lord’s hospitality, or rather its lacking, hearsay in the city? 

Sundays were always a day of rest. You were sitting in your bedroom on the highest floor, reading one of the novels you brought from home. Too entertained with the story, you blindly reached for the cup of tea standing nearby. The noise of ceramic pot splattering across the floor caused you to tense immediately. 

It shattered to pieces. Such a waste, it was a pretty one. 

You closed the book with a sigh and set it aside, slowly walking towards a storage on this floor. With a small broom in your hand you returned to your room only to find it oddly… clean. The staining of spilled tea on the flooring was gone just as the bits of what was left of the floral cup. 

Almost like it never even happened. 

Your eyes wandered across the chamber, searching for the mess you just made. But every little trace of it was gone. You kneeled down and looked under each piece of furniture. Still, nothing was found, a broken teapot swallowed by the void.

Slowly you retracted from the room onto the long hallway, searching for the maids or signs of their presence. It must have been one of them, right?

— Hello? — You asked with hesitation in your voice, but there was no living soul to answer you back. Not nearby anyways. 

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈

Coos of the crows and rattle of their wings echoed through the old trees. And although the sky was grey and cloudy that day, no rain had yet fallen. Alongside Johnny, you went for an afternoon stroll down the borderline of the forest, enjoying a minute of break.

— How long have you been working for Lord Simon? 

— A couple of years now — the man reached down the wild grain growing on the field and plucked a single piece. He continued to play with it between his thick digits, brows narrowed as he reflected on his further answer. — He hired and gave me a roof over my head when I retired from service.

— You were a soldier too?

Johnny nodded with a simple “aye” and you smiled.

— What?

— Nothing. Didn’t think such a gentle gardener was once enlisted. 

— Yeah? Didn’t think a pretty lass like yourself would be so nosy. — He smacked the tip of your nose with the stalk he was holding. 

Your cheeks grew rosy and warm, when he paid you a compliment. Not that you were a prude! Actually far from that, but it was just that Johnny was so charming and he definitely knew how to sweet talk to a woman like you. 

— Not nosy, it’s considered rude — you explain to him, fidgeting with your fingers yet a smile is painted upon your face. — “Curious” I think suits me better. Those who spread gossip about others’ affairs and tragedies are the nosy ones. See, that’s the difference. 

Johnny stopped suddenly and took your hand into his palms. He held you gently, almost like you were made out of glass and he, with his admirable strength, could break you into pieces. What a great waste it would be to destroy such a pure soul. He leaned closer to your ear, warm breath tickling your sensitive skin and your heart almost jumped out of the ribcage. Should his closeness excite you so much? Should a grown woman be this rash?

— Only if we were seen by someone, here on the glade, alone. Scandalous — the man mocked such behaviours, while brushing a single strand of your hair behind the ear. — What would they think, hm? 

Before you took a step back, your gaze met his for a brief moment. There was a hint of curiosity and playfulness in his blue eyes. And perhaps something else, something much more obvious than you believed it was. 

Something that made men weak.

— Right, what would they say, Johnny? Who? — You asked him playfully, though your expression was full of sorrow. —  I barely see anyone around the house. I’m starting to believe those servants are some… ghouls living in the attic or they simply avert me so often. 

— Lord likes his peace, they work as if they weren’t there. Just as it needs to be. 

— It’s been some days now and I hadn’t met any of them. You’re the only person who actually talks to me. Don’t you get lonely there?

— Simon’s and your presence is enough for me. And well, it’s nice to talk to Mr. Garrick sometimes. 

— He talks to you? 

The cold breeze danced through your hair, causing you to shiver. Dry and brittle leaves crunched under your soles when the two of you continued to walk down the old pathway. 

— Autumn here is tough, lass, you should have worn a sweater. We should head back home, the nightfall is coming. 

You loathed the cold weather and how freezing the chambers got in the morning. Your first winter in England’s countryside might not be as pleasant as you thought it would be, with cold feet and no one in the manor to warm your spirit up. 

No peers, no guests, no neighbours. Just you, Johnny and Lord Riley.

You stood back in the middle of your quarter, looking at everything and anything at the same time. Each detail like a porcelain vase with flowers or lace tablecloth looked so neat, with no sign of dust it was almost impossible. Many questions were stacked inside of your head. 

Was your chamber cleaned every single day? If so, when did they do it? And why hadn't you even bumped into any of the servants of the manor? Yes, the building was large, but at some point you had to meet the staff, right? 

It has officially been two weeks since you moved to live and work here. Although using the word “work” was far-fetched. You hoped to become a governess to Lord Riley’s children, but that dream was quickly demolished as he had none. So then it was told that you were responsible for the house work, but there was no one to supervise as they were constantly hiding from you. So you were sitting there at the end of the day in a living room, chaperoning your Lord. This time without Johnny.

Fireplace was spitting long flames, popping ashes into the air. The interior was welcoming, when the wind behind the windows grew stronger. A storm was coming. 

— May I ask you a question, Sir? — You had put aside your embroidery set, before finally asking. The blonde man hummed, eyes still transfixed on the lecture he was reading. — How often do the maids come to my room?

— As often as needed. Why?

— I wanted to rearrange my quarters this morning, just to push the bed closer to the wall, but when I returned from the afternoon stroll, it was back in its primary place. 

— Then they fixed the furniture, didn’t they? 

You had a feeling that was not the case. You scratched the flooring during the first attempt, if the staff was to push the bed back to its origins, they would only do further damage. Yet, the wooden planks were brand as new. No signs of any scratches.

Were you hysterical? Was it all your vivid imagination?

— But it’s heavy, my Lord.

— And yet you managed to move it. So did they. 

Lord Riley was grumpy again, his voice hoarse and accent thick. 

You once again took the needle threaded with string into your fingers and returned to the unfinished piece, but the urge to continue pushing him was stronger. You might rather bite your tongue in the future. 

— Maybe I should talk with them and explain that I prefer it the other way. 

— I prefer when the rules of my household are followed. You wouldn’t have such an idea if you didn’t have so much free time.

Your hands dropped to your lap as you abruptly looked at him, slightly offended. And even though Lord tried to conceive this, you noticed how the edges of his lips twitched in a tiny smile. He was toying with you.

Simon was strict. Perhaps he never abandoned the military's rules and drills. He was an adamant man who valued his own comfort. That means, obeying his rules. 

— Come, I might have an idea how to keep you busy.

The Lord of the house rose from his seat. Each time you stood next to him, you were intimidated by his height and solid build. Despite being off duty, he kept his admirable physics of a Greek god. 

At least that is how the books you kept so dear to your heart described the brave warriors. 

You followed the master into his private library and patiently stood right behind him, when he was searching for a certain book. Finally he reached a thick tome in your direction – “A Mortal Immortal” by Mary Shelley. 

— Here, this may interest you — but when you stretched out to receive it, he moved the novel out of your reach. — Ah, ah. What do we say?

— Thank you. For borrowing me your book. 

— However, when I think about it, I’m worried this will only worsen your… troubled mind.

— My mind?

— Johnny told me you worry too much about some nonsense that should not be your priority in the first place. You’re letting this place and its solitude haunt you. Are you of a weak mind, girl? — You quickly understood what he was referring to, so to prove the point you denied the vile accusation. — So, I’d recommend you stop being childish and focus on your chores. Then everything will be alright, understood? 

— I’m not childish.

— Is that clear? — He repeated with much harsher tone.

You nodded slightly, barely visible, but enough to agree with the Lord.

— Now, go to your chamber, it’s getting late. 

His dark eyes carefully inspected your figure. You noticed him staring at your neckline for far too long than what was decent. His coarse hand swiped over yours when he was giving you the book. The cold metal of his signet felt like a thousand sharp stings. 

What kind of game was the Lord of Riley Manor playing with you? 

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈

The simmering sound of something powerful cracking snatched you from the peaceful dream. Every muscle in your body tensed and you sat up, holding the duvets tight when a thunder enlightened the black sky. Your heart beated fast within its cage of bones and breath shattered, anticipating.

Surely, thunderstorms can happen in late autumn, but you had never predicted it to happen this night. You felt uneasy, when another loud rumble made you scared. Then there was the banging window frame, somewhere in the long hallway and those horrible, horrible whistles of wind. They sound almost like human cries. 

At first you ducked down beneath the covers to shield yourself from the haunting sounds, thinking that the servants would take care of the open window. But minutes passed and they didn’t. 

With a lit candle on a metal holder you walked down the corridor, the flame being the only source of light. 

So when the wind coming through the window blew it off, you gasped loudly in panic – you barely saw your own hands in front of you!

— No, no, no…

You almost screamed when someone placed their hand upon your shoulder and then your mouth. A familiar figure was illuminated by another lighting. You could never mistake those blue eyes for another. 

— Shh, bonnie. It’s me — Johnny whispered, slowly uncovering your mouth. — I heard the fuss. You alright? 

— Actually, no… Did you hear those sounds?

Your hands squeezed the candle holder, when the gardener rushed to close the open window. You shivered, only a thin layer of nightgown covering your skin. You looked behind, checking if you were alone in the hallway. It certainly felt like you weren’t. It had to be the ghouls. 

— What sounds? 

— Howling, distressed cries? Wails? I-I heard them in my chamber. 

— You’re scared of the storms?

— No, that’s not-

— It’s okay to get spooked sometimes — he cut you off and grabbed your hand, slowly leading you back where you came from. — Come, let’s get you to your room.

— Oh, don’t belittle me. — You frowned upon him, yet you doubt he had seen it. You clung to his strong arm like a scared girl, not eager to get lost in the darkness again. 

— That was not my intention. Was just trying to comfort you.

When you finally reached your room, you couldn’t find the strength to let go of his hand. You interlocked your smooth and delicate fingers with his digits.

— Please, Johnny, don’t go. I’m… scared. 

— Of thunder? — He chuckled, petting the palm of your hand. 

— No, this place. Something is not right, please, I–

— It’s okay, you got scared a little, that’s all. You really want me to stay? 

You shuddered when taking a deep breath, calculating every possible consequence of this decision.

This was not right. 

— Yes.

When he stepped inside of the room, a rush of excitement flooded your veins and sank on the bottom of your stomach. Perhaps it was foolish and considered promiscuous inviting a man into your bedroom, but your body and heart desired otherwise. 

Johnny’s presence brought you comfort that you were longing for, his touch ascended your worries to the void and filled the troubled mind with pleasure. Nothing else.

Without a word spoken the two of you moved to the narrow, still warm bed and climbed under the sheets. Johnny captured your head between his hands and pulled in a gentle kiss on the lips. In his performance he was eager, sloppy yet charming. One of his palms gripped your hip through the crumpled material, just as you hooked one of your thighs over his hip. 

Foolish, foolish girl. 

— You’re so pretty — he whispered through the thick air as he pressed his forehead to yours. The curve of his nose filled your bridge as you looked at him from under your lashes. — The moment I first saw you getting out of the coach, that day you arrived, I knew I couldn’t ever let you go, bonnie.

Johnny swiftly moved on top of your lying form, holding that one thigh open. He continued the passionate assault on your lips, carefully rolling the hem of your nightgown up. 

Your body was on fire, everything inside of you screamed this was wrong, but somehow, the sinner inside of you called for him. For his touch, for his affection and his sweet, sweet nectar. 

Only when he started caressing your mound and its slit did you acknowledge where his hand wandered. And although his skin was rather tough  from all the years of hard work, his touch was gentle and surprisingly precise. You gasped lovely. It didn’t take that much of a hassle for him to make you wet and eager down there.

— Oh, Johnny… 

His name rolled off your tongue like honey, a music to his ears. It wasn’t long enough before he was grinding over your thigh with his excited and leaking length. 

— You are what we needed. A little warm sunshine, eh? 

Did you hear “we”?

But before you could ask him, he began stretching your cunt a little bit too carelessly to your liking. All his prudence was gone, as he got drunk on your scent and how you felt around him. Your hand gripped his bicep and your glossy eyes went wide like a scared doe. 

— Johnny, Johnny, slow — you breathed out through muffled whine and the man atop of you stilled. — Slow, please.

He could feel how your heart pumped within your veins. 

— I’m sorry, bonnie. Let me kiss it better — the gardener leaned down to pepper your face with kisses. And when he got to the sweet spot on your neck, you giggled — shh, we don’t want to wake him, don’t we? 

Obviously he meant Lord Simon. 

He set a steady yet bearable rhythm as his hips rolled into you in waves. His chest was close to yours, brushing sensitive nipples through the thin fabric of a nightgown. You were pushed into the cushioned pillow, hair splayed beneath like roots of the ancient tree. 

You felt so lightheaded yet so good at the same time. Sparkling, increasing sensation tickling the nerves and blinding the vision. Johnny was all you could experience in that moment. He was the only thing you could smell, touch and taste, when he was trying to steal the air from your lungs. You fell into the abyss of pleasure quickly, all the latest worries fading away.

And the horribly loud storm? Didn’t matter at that moment. All thunders quietened down and the entire world could be burning in flames and ashes, but you wouldn’t even notice. 

The man moaned deeply from his throat, when he got closer to his peak, hips frantically snapping against yours. You barely managed to entangle your shaking fingers within his brown hair, right above the nape of the lover’s neck. With one more final thrust both of you indulged sweet, sweet pleasure.

Johnny stayed until the morning came, just as he promised. With an expression of pure ecstasy and lust, you snuggled into his chest. He wrapped a pair of arms around you and for the first time since the arrival you felt at peace sleeping in the manor. The candle remained snuffed out. 

In the morning of the following day, you went to the city with Mrs. Garrick to receive the remaining letters and a few other errands. You and the cook split to settle matters quickly. 

The post office was a small place with barely anyone inside but a friendly looking old lady behind the counter. 

— Good morning, I’d like to receive the mail for Lord Riley.

You put on a polite smile, walking closer to the counter and removing the bonnet from your head.

— So you are the new housekeeper, I’ve heard about you. It’s been a while since someone got his letters, guess he still ain’t leaving the house?

— No, ma’am. Lord is rather… — you paused, searching for the right description of your employer — a private person. 

— Always had been, even before he went to war. But oh, that was years ago, I hope he softened at least a little. Such a sad and grumpy boy he was. 

There was something in the way she phrased it that made your body still. Blood got so heated up anyone that touched you could feel it on the outside. Did she mean the previous Lord, father of Simon Riley? But that couldn’t be the case, this title was newly found when he returned from the war. So what was this all about? 

— Forgive me, you said “years ago”? How long ago was it? You see, I’m not from here and the Lord doesn’t share much about himself.

— Of course he does not and do not expect otherwise — she waved with her wrinkled finger, before reaching for the bile of letters from the shelf behind her. — It was around twenty five years ago, Lord Riley was the same age as my son when he joined the Queen’s army.

— I see. 

You were confused, extremely confused. The blonde Lord with scarred face did not look a year past his thirties, how could this be that he enlisted quarter of century ago? At that moment you felt so horrified by this anomaly. 

Through the rest of the day and the day that followed, the old maiden aunt’s words echoed inside of your head:

— I am surprised anyone actually was willing to take that job. Lord Riley is a… forgive me for speaking so freely, but he’s a strange man who abandoned the word of God years ago. Why do you think he got pushed away from the post earlier? 

He was…? 

You didn’t look the same into the depths of the windows of the Manor, nor did you stare at the dark corner of the hall. Every sound of wood creaking sent shivers down your spine. They were coming. 

Oh God, have you gone mad?  

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈𝐈

You stirred the porridge over and over again, watching as the gooey mush slipped from the spoon down to its den. Despite the tremendous amount of honey you added it still tasted rather bitter this morning. 

— Did you finish?

— Excuse me?

You tightened the hold over the silver spoon when Lord’s hoarse voice brought you back to the eerie reality. 

— The book. I asked if you finished the book? — Blonde man raised his thick brow in question, curiously looking at you from his own plate. 

— Oh, yes, yes. I enjoyed it, however I found Winzy’s life quite miserable to be honest. And tragic.

— Why so? 

— Well, he lost the woman he loved so dearly and then had to continue living eternally without her. Imagine how lonely his life had to be, when he must have outlived every single friend he had made. 

— If he was so miserable as you say, then why wouldn’t he just end his suffering and join the woman he claimed to love? Maybe he didn’t really care after all. — Simon leaned back in his chair, exhaling loudly. — I sometimes wonder what his life would look like if he had given the potion to Bertha. A pair of immortals walking this earth, would they become some sort of Gods?

— Doesn’t the thought of living so long… make you feel… I don’t know, unease , my Lord?

— No. I’ve seen worse things than an old man. Those who fear death might go to extremes just to avoid their end.  

— We were not made to live forever, don’t we? We should not play God.

— There is no God, sweet girl. Only sinners and fools. Those who play and those who lose. Are you a loser?

— No, Sir. 

His dark eyes glowed in a mysterious manner as the silence fell between you two. The man was bright and had seen right through you. 

— Good. If we speak of the matter of sinners, I’d like to make one thing clear.

The Lord stood up from his seat, putting the white napkin on the table. His figure loomed closer toward his housekeeper and finally leaned on one of his hands over you. You could feel his breath on your neck, his closeness made you shiver. 

— You’ve been living under my roof and by now you should know I despite disobedience and liars. 

— I am no liar, Sir. 

— Perhaps not, but you hide things from me. Captain Price spoke of you in high regard - a well behaved woman from a respected family, yet you’ve proven yourself to be rather promiscuous. You even ensnared poor Johnny, didn’t you? 

That… was straight forward. 

— I did no such thing!

Suddenly he wrapped one of his strong hands over the nape of your neck, causing you to tense and lean away from his touch. The man began drawing circles over your skin with his thumb, almost like he tried to soothe your shattered nerves. You gasped at the sudden force he had put you in place.

— Watch yourself and think twice about answering again. 

— It was mutual.

— Mutual? — He repeated mockingly. — Johnny boy would fuck anything that moves in ten miles radius. And it just happened to be you. 

— How dare you speak like this? — You turned your head to look him in the face. When you did, you saw the insolent smirk painted over his pale face. — He is at least decent towards me, he’s kind and caring. We did nothing wrong. Why do you care?

Simon leaned down right next to your face. He continued to stare you down, his brows narrowed in deep disappointment. 

— You’ve built a wall between us, sweet girl. Yeah, you did. If there was something you ever needed, you should have come directly to me, your Lord. And I can assure you, Johnny did not give what you craved and desired. 

Inconveniently your face changed its colour to vivid blush, when he suggested such things. Your stomach felt like one, big knot twisting its way to get stuck in your oesophagus. Was that it? Was this how he perceived you? Was he jealous of the fling between you and Johnny or was he simply cruel?

Lord Riley let go of your pretty neck and caressed your cheek with the knuckles of his fingers. Just like one would touch a lover and another – a pet. 

— You’re frightened. Are you scared of me, is that it? Be obedient and you won’t have to be. Or do you really want to be punished so badly?

You quickly denied by shaking your head to the sides to which he only hummed. His weight shifted behind your back and a trail of footsteps could be heard as the Lord of the house left the dining room.

A moment passed before you caught yourself staring at the bowl of now cold porridge, slowly digesting the conversation you just held with him, your Master. 

The burden upon your poor, poor mind has overwhelmed you and the realisation of a potential madness weighed heavily upon you. Nothing made sense. Not a single logical explanation has come to light to soothe your fears. 

After those couple of weeks the staff and maids stayed in the shadows, Lord’s age did not match the tales of his youth and those horrible sounds you continued to hear at night? Ugh, they kept you awake, causing dark bags to show under your pretty eyes. 

The manor itself seemed to have poisoned you. Was that it? The reason? You knew you had to leave the house as soon as possible. You had to…

Oh God, what have you gotten yourself into? 

That night was no different to those before it. Wind blowing through the crack in the window’s frame, wheezing and whistling. Your bedsheets are exceptionally cold this time, causing you to shiver and tremble. The candle is still burning, a metal holder standing on the table. 

When you finally manage to curl up under the sheets and doze away slightly, you hear this agonising, scary wails. 

Wait. No. 

Those are no wails.

I-Is someone moaning?

You raised up to a sitting position in a half asleep state. Loose strands of hair stick to the forehead as you continue to listen for more sounds. 

Those seem to be almost human-like. Maybe they are? 

You throw the sheets to the side and crawl out of the bed. You’re frustrated and moody, close to tears from the exhaustion of not being able to sleep. Before you left your chamber, you grabbed that damn candle light and took a deep breath. 

Your bare feet left no traces behind as you walked down the dark hallway. The heart in your chest was about to burst, obviously you were still scared of the dark and what possibly lurks within it. The hem of your nightgown sweeped the wooden flooring that cracked underneath your weight. 

Then, you heard those moans again, louder. You were getting closer. Following the awful sounds you finally get to its source. You knew where your feet happened to take you to and that you shouldn’t have dared to enter this chamber. Nonetheless, you did. The shroud of mystery had to be torn. 

You slowly creeped towards the half-opened, heavy doors and sneaked inside where the darkness swallowed almost everything. Single candles had been lit across the room, creating an ascended ambience. You should have turned around and left, you understood that perfectly well. However, you wanted answers to all the secrets of the manor and its habitants. 

Behind the wooden screen there was a large bed and two figures sitting on its edge. Gardener who was completely bare and whining into Lord’s shoulder, drool leaving the corner of his mouth. Thighs spread open and eyes closed tight. And there he was – Lord Simon dressed in trousers and loose, white chemise. His big hand was tightly wrapped around Johnny’s angry cock, pulling and twisting the sensitive skin. They seemed to be enjoying themselves as Johnny whined pitifully again at the sensation. 

At least now you finally knew what those sounds were exactly – that stormy night Johnny came to you, were they also together? You couldn’t move and kept standing close to the screen, eyes transfixed at the scene you witnessed. So many emotions washed over you – were you embarrassed, scared or even jealous? The dots and the facts slowly began connecting. You had to make haste and leave this room. This house. You knew you had to get away tonight, before things would escalate. Oh God, you couldn’t properly breathe, your face and lungs felt like they were on fire!

— Looks like we have company — the coarse voice of a blonde man made your skin cover in goosebumps. He stared directly at you. — Want to join us? 

Unknowingly you made a muffled whine of embarrassment as you swiftly turned around and started to walk away in a hurry. As if you were in some kind of trance, your body going automatically. You rolled up the long hem of your nightgown not to stumble upon it as you found yourself on the corridor again. 

Christ! You forgot to take the candle with you! 

The breathing became difficult as you had to navigate somehow in the complete darkness. A part of your heart felt betrayed by the erotic scenery you just witnessed, although you couldn’t completely understand why. You and Johnny were a one time thing, why would you feel sorry for him bedding someone else? 

Probably because this “someone else” was your mutual employer.

There were heavy footsteps behind you, they were getting closer and closer. He was right behind the nosy intruder. You tried to fasten your pace, blindly going forward, hoping to find a staircase. Then it would lead you downstairs and outside of the building. But before you even made it halfway to the stairs, you bumped into a slim table standing by the wall. The vase standing on it fell and broke as the painful impact of the table's corner digging into your abdomen sent you to the ground. 

When it was clear you were within his grasp, you tried to crawl further away from him, trying to escape somehow. But Simon was faster and he collected you from the floor. 

— Come, before you’re gonna hurt yourself. — Lord Riley said as he managed to lift up and throw you over his broad shoulder with little effort.

You tried to break free by kicking like a goat and punching him with your curled fist. But how could the strength of a city girl ever compare to the former soldier’s? You groaned, you kicked and you cursed. Nothing could have prepared you for the harsh slap that Simon planted on your bottom. It stung, causing you to go still over his shoulder. And when he spanked you again you bit your lower lip, trying to confide any pathetic whines. 

— Should have whipped you long ago. Maybe it would teach you some respect. 

— I didn't mean to interrupt, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, my Lord!

— Oh, you happened to join us just in time. 

Lord Riley took you back to his bedroom and tossed you down onto his remarkably large bed. This time, he locked the doors from the inside and removed the key from the lock. You were stuck there with them. You managed to back up a little, before Johnny reached you. He sat at your side and carefully extended his hand towards your petrified face, a curtain of hair covering your pretty features.

— It’s alright, bonnie. Calm down. 

— I don’t want to be a part of this. — You stated, kneeling on the bed sheets splayed beneath. Simon stood tall with his hands crossed in front of you and the gardener. Johnny gently began to caress your back in a soothing manner. 

You were caught red handed, busted the only chance to run away and now you were more than positive he would never let you go. You tried to conceal the fears and shame, because now was the time to uncover the truth. 

— What is this? — You asked with a shaking voice, eyes transfixed on the two figures of men, going from the blonde to the brunette. — What’s going on? Please, let’s forget about this. I’ll go back to bed. I–I…

— You already are in one — Lord took a step forward and caught your jaw. He yanked your head up, forcing you to look at him. — Have you finally figured it out? I directly gave you clues. Come on, you’re a smart one. Put the pieces together. 

How could you come up with a logical conclusion? Everything you gathered through the weeks could be interpreted as a mad woman’s nonsense. But you weren’t ill, you were aware of the games going around you.

— You’re much older than you look, that’s what I know. And that you’ve done horrifying, unforgivable things during your service. Lord– Simon — you corrected yourself — what have you done? 

— Think. Harder. 

His patience was running thin. Simon spoke through his bared teeth. 

— Oh, God. Are you a part of this? — You looked at Johnny, before the blonde man caught your throat and lifted you on your feet again. 

— Don’t be harsh on her! She doesn’t know better. She needs to learn. — The Scotsman said to your defence, narrowing his thick brows and scrambling the bridge of his nose. All this time he was sitting comfortably on the bed, absolutely not bothered with his nakedness.  

— There is no God here, sweet girl, I already told you. Only me, Johnny and well, you. I’ve been kind enough to share a piece of me with you and that’s how you repay your Lord? In such childish, pathetic disobedience? Fucking nosy, aren’t we? Or just eager? 

The tall, bulky man reached with his other hand and forcefully cupped your crotch through the thin material of the nightgown, causing you to wriggle in his hold. He prodded against your slit with his finger, toying with you, testing the limits and your responses. And you were very responsive. 

In that moment you thought about the choice of literature Simon had given you. The main plotline revolved around immortality and its consequences, which would somehow explain… some things. Yet what about God? Why did Simon detest him so much?

— God turns his back on people like me and once you sin for us, he will turn on you too — he mockingly snorted, before continuing your torment. — If he didn’t already. 

You tried to tear from his hold, shaking yourself and pushing his chest away. Lord Riley stood like a mountain, not moving an inch. In a quick movement he twirled you around and took a firm hold of the nightgown material at your back. Then you heard how loudly the stitches broke and the teared material slowly fell to the ground, exposing your much alive and young flesh.

Before you realised you were completely bare and managed to cover yourself somehow, Simon grabbed your arms behind your back so you couldn’t move further. 

— I think he sent you to us as a gift — the man leaned against your shoulder, whispering into your ear. — Yeah, that’s what you are – a sweet, innocent present. Isn’t she cute, Johnny? 

Brunette finally stood up from the bed and gently caressed your hip. He was standing so close, you could feel his pulsating cock and its leaking tip on your supple thigh.

— Aye, she is lovely. 

— Have you tasted her, boy? That night you sneaked under her covers? — To which the dark haired one denied. — Well, I think you should compensate the little lady, no? Help her calm down, you know how women can get… hysterical. 

— W-Wait, wait, no, n-no… 

Simon sat down on the edge of the bed and placed you between his massive legs. One of his hands wrapped around your fragile, swan like neck and the other cupped your left breast. Meanwhile, Johnny got down onto his knees and moved closer to the two of you and before he dived between your thighs he looked into the dark irises of his Lord. Not yours. 

— He eats like I starve him beforehand. You’re gonna find out, lovely. 

You tried to squeeze your legs shut, but the gardener kept them spread wide so he could lean closer to your cunt. And when you tried anything like moving or wriggling away, Simon would pull or twist one of your nipples causing you to yelp. 

— She’s really pretty — the Scot said, parting your lower lips apart. The shame washed over you, causing your head to turn into Simon’s shoulder. — Never could have pulled such one while in the army. 

Then he flatten his tongue over your most sensitive parts and started dragging it along the slit. You entangled one of your hands within his brown strands of hair, on top of his head pulling slightly. When his lips sucked at your clit you finally moaned, releasing some tension and anger within you.

— Bird’s already singing.

Simon purred into your ear, nuzzling his eyebrow ridge into your head. The feelings and sensations you were experiencing overflowed your system. The man you trusted as your lover was assaulting your cunt with his mouth and the Lord you were supposed to work for was enjoying the show. You pressed your eyes shut, trying not to cry. But you finally broke and the salty streams began to run down your rosy cheeks. 

— You think she deserves to cum, Johnny? — To which the kneeling men nodded vigorously. — Use your words, stupid mutt. 

— Please, Si, let her. Look how stressed she is. Poor thing, she might need a few more.

— A few- Ah! M-More?! — You squealed again, when someone rolled your nipples between their fingers. 

When your peak neared, you tried to turn your head away and hide. You didn't want to give them the satisfaction of seeing your face in pure bliss. Simon held your head against his sternum, pressing your forehead backwards. 

You felt like you were on fire, orange flames licking your fingers, your breasts, your inner thighs. 

— That’s it, good girl. 

And when the knot finally bursted, a wave of painful, white pleasure washed over you. The orgasm was so strong, it blinded your senses for a short moment in which the men flipped you around the bed. 

Johnny was supporting your shoulders and your head, while Lord was stirring in front of you. He threw your legs over his thighs and scooped closer to your still wet with saliva crotch. And not only with that…

The new wave of panic overwhelmed you when Simon began to undo his trousers. He was taller and bigger than the gardener in every aspect, you were scared. Taking two lovers, without marital vows? Does this make you a whore? But you didn’t want this!

— No, no, no… — You weeped sadly, trying to crawl away, before Johnny began to caress your head. His grip was tight and successfully held you in place. 

— After tonight, we’ll be joined as one, bonnie. Just us, here in this house, forever. 

— But I-I don’t want this, Johnny! Please, let me go. Let me go.

You repeated as Simon pulled you by the hips closer to him. His now exposed, thick cock stiffened over your soft abdomen, leaking some precum. 

— Shh, Simon knows what’s best for us. He knows. 

When the tip of his length caved his way inside of your warm, silky walls, he was at least decent enough to take it slow. If you felt full during that first night spent with Johnny, this time it seemed even fuller. With his flesh, Simon filled you to the brim, still not even moving. The man saw your struggle to relax, so he leaned down and sucked the thin and delicate skin below your jaw. 

Meanwhile Johnny brushed your hair backwards and with the other hand he caressed your ribs. Somehow they knew how to press each individual button to make you docile enough. 

They learned how to tame you. 

Only then, Simon began to move his hips, thrusting slowly and continuously fastening the pace. His movements made you sway along Johnny’s knees. Your breasts bounced within the rhythm and your eyes searched for them through the half absent haze. 

You got lost in the moment, every breath merged with another. Hands roaming over your body, whose owners you couldn’t really assign, the burning stretch in your cunt that began to lube itself to ease the friction. 

The pleasure that crushed over your sensible thinking, put you in an almost ascended state. You were still sobbing, when Simon fastened his pace and his cock penetrated you deeper, kissing your cervix. You were still trembling, when the two men started making out above you. Their lips crushed in a vulgar exposition of their affection.

— Can’t you see that you’re lost without us, lovely? — The Lord’s voice shaken as he was getting closer to his climax. He leaned down and kissed you, almost stealing your breath away. 

— Wouldn’t last without us, would you, lass? 

They continuously somewhat mocked you and each time after they did, they cooed at you or leaned down to “kiss it better”. By the time Simon finished inside of you, groaning loudly, he spilled the warm seed inside your walls to, as Lord claim, “make you theirs”. 

— Don’t worry, we got you now. We’re gonna take care of you. Just let us… get familiar first. — Johnny said calmly, when the blonde was massaging your tense things. You knew they weren’t yet sated. 

That night you happened to lay over one of Simon’s bulky arms like a pillow. He caged your body from behind, his chest pressing tightly against your spine and Johnny laid on his side in front of you. Through a half awakened state you managed to look through the window that faced the treeline. An edge of forest shrouded in thick, morning mist. 

Tonight you finally were able to put the pieces together. However it was too late anyways.

The house seemed to be stuck in time and space, so were its residents. The wind sweeping through the draughty windows fills the lungs of the great manor. Old, wooden flooring creaks and the glass strain within its frames. Every aspect of the building stays the same, untouched and reclusive for many years to come. 

You finally let the heavy eyelids close. The sun was rising.

Obviously very inspired by Ghost's music and Crimson Peak, here is Spotify playlist ⟶ 𝕏

[sehodreams]

thoughts on dark rich riize buying reader in a human trafficking black market. the reader legally belongs to the buyer.

Damn I like the concept, these are the ones who came to my mind (sorry for the others I couldn't imagine)

Lol not me searching "how do a black market look like? for writing purposes not for illegal purchases" to understand how it worked HAHAHAAHAAHAHA

TW and tags: smut, oral sex (m receiving), dubcon, noncon, slapping, overstimulation, hints of sadism, dom!riize, I can't remember how all the nasty stuff here is called so if someone told me I'd be grateful 🤣

Eunseok

He'd be warm, like, you felt scared to be there, but he'd always talk to you softly, telling you how much he enjoyed your company, your presence, and how beautiful you looked with his gifts.

He'd buy you everything that reminded him of you, his little doll.

He'd be just so nice, soft touches and multiple kisses in day light, but when the night came, you were scared of who would you with that night, would it be your soft owner? Or the other guy? The guy who slapped your face and left hand marks on your neck, or that would sometimes go crazy and let candles drip over your back when he fucked you from behind.

You could never predict what would happen, and he would always repeat the same thing "my doll", because he had to make sure you understood that, you just were his pretty, warm and soft doll.

Wonbin

Wonbin always looked so sweet, he gave the prettiest smiles when he was on those video conferences for work, and you saw him being so kind to others, so why couldn't he be that nice to you?

You'd watch him from your cage, always in front of him, to be comforted with your presence and on his watch to know your every move. You had tried to escape three times, and those were already too many times for him to ever trust you again, so your punishment was to always be behind those bars the time he decided.

He'd let you roam around mostly at night, when he felt like having you even closer, his chest on your back while playing with your little bud, fucking you over the same table you had dinner, or making you suck him after you had your daily bath.

Now, he was pushing the vibrator to your dripping cunt, making you cum until you cried and made a mess over his expensive couch after you told him you wanted to leave after he asked you what would you like for your first month anniversary there.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" you'd repeat, crying of overstimulation after your third orgasm.

"I don't think you're sorry enough" he'd smile, whispering to your ear, to then leave pecks over all over your neck. "You need to learn that you're not a guest here, you're my property, so you better get used to your new life"

Anton

You had no family and no friends, so you were the perfect target for the people that took you from your little apartment in the middle of the night, no one asked for you, your coworkers quickly forgot about your existence and then you just... Disappeared. So, when he bought you, you didn't put much fight, tired of your old life, maybe that would be the best, you thought.

There, with him, at least you had a much nicer home, a hot meal every day and what you always wanted, a person to depend on. So, what if he made you wear a collar with his name all the time? And what if you had to wait for him to feed you because if not he'd get angry? You didn't want to make him angry, you wanted to always see that pretty smile telling you how good you were, "such a good girl" he'd say every time you let him take off the little clothes he let you wear, putting his dick inside you when you watched his favorite programs, or when he was playing those silly games that made him insanely rich.

And sometimes he was more than nice, like when he took you shopping in the middle of the night to those stores you couldn't afford in your old life with your disgusting minimum wage, buying you all the food and clothes you'd ever want and need.

And what if those nights he made you walk with a leash? You'd do it all again if you could always be with him.

Shotaro

He was so nice most of the time, buying you expensive dinners, letting you cuddle beside him, making sure you had everything you'd ever need, you ended appreciating him.

It was hard at first, to get used to that lifestyle, not being able to leave the apartment, to lose all contact with your family and friends, even to endure his touches, but you had to get used to it, he was clear when you arrived, the only thing he expected from you was to look pretty, not talk and welcome him with open legs every time he needed.

When you refused at first you had it bad, he'd starve you, talk to you coldly and take you with force, but when you learned how to be the little angel he needed, everything got better, his hands wouldn't furiously touch you anymore, instead he'd caress you with them, touching the little place that got addicted to his attentions, and who needed to talk? now all you needed inside your mouth was his cock when he came after a long day of work, to thank him for everything he did for you

[johaerys-writes]

TW: Non-consent mentioned. No pressure on answering this, but I figured I’d ask you since I value your opinion way more than Google/Reddit.

There’s an assortment of superstitions out there around childbirth. It varies among cultures but sometimes the superstitions overlap. I’ve heard suggestions about the position the birth parent is in during conception influences the (assigned) sex. I’ve heard suggestions that if the birth parent has sex while pregnant they will have twins. Now, there’s this other curious superstition that if the birth parent has sex with multiple partners, a number of things could happen including all sperm donors become the (biological) parents. I was wondering to what extent this last one is believed as part of Greek mythology? I’m assuming to some extent it is believed given the myth of Leda.

I bring all this up because of the infamous Scyros scene in The Song of Achilles. Miller is a really great storyteller from a writing craft perspective. Very subtly, she weaves layers into her scenes. For this scene in particular, it is generally understood that the sex between Patroclus and Deidamia was non-consensual. I’ve seen some suggestions that the scene was included to further support the idea that Achilles and Patroclus are two halves -the pain of one is the pain of the other. I was wondering that in addition to such interpretations, that the scene exists also to make Patroclus Pyrrhus’ father? Because Deidamia slept with both, they are both the father. Does this fit with general beliefs/superstitions around sex in Greek mythology?

I wouldn’t really go so far as to say that the sex scene with Deidameia and Patroclus is meant to be non con. I always found it a bit dubcon-ish instead of fully noncon, although the lines might be a little blurry. I think that the scene is meant to be awkward and weird, and my understanding of it is that it wasn't so much to show Patroclus' and Achilles' pain, but to sort of... shed light on Deidameia's situation? She's a young girl that really has no options right now: she got into this marriage without really wanting to or understanding what was going on-- imagine a goddess showing up to you and telling you you have to marry her son or else? I doubt many girls in her position would have been able to say no to this. And then she sleeps with Achilles, she is his wife, and as a wife she has to love him now, he's meant to be her whole world. Like this is how Deidameia has been brought up, this is part of her culture, and as a young impressionable girl I assume she had some very confused feelings for Achilles at this point. Of course Achilles is gorgeous and a demigod and that plays into Deidameia's infatuation with him.

But then, Patroclus shows up. And whatever little interest Achilles had in Deidameia is gone. She is married to him and pregnant with his child and yet none of this matters because Achilles just wants nothing to do with her now. So I feel like the whole sleeping with Patroclus thing might have been... her trying to take control of the situation in some way. If she manages to seduce Patroclus, then perhaps she will manage to hurt Achilles as he has hurt her; or perhaps she might even come to be included in this very exclusive thing these two have going on.

It's a muddy situation with no good outcomes for her, but don't forget that she's a very young girl. And young people often make bad decisions. So, for me, this scene is less about making Patroclus and Achilles "even" or focusing on their bond (although there are elements of that here), but more so to highlight the pretty awful position Deidameia is in. (Of course people are allowed to have different opinions, if someone's reading of the scene is different to mine then that's fine.)

As for whether Patroclus and Achilles are both Pyrrhus' fathers, I.... am not sure. Like, I don’t really see it that way. To my knowledge, there aren't really many myths in ancient Greece to support this particular angle? The most you'll see when two men and one woman are involved is the woman having twins, which is what happened with Leda: she slept with both Tyndareus and Zeus, so she had two sets of twins, Helen and Clytemnestra and the Dioskouroi (Castor and Polydeuces), of which one child was mortal and the other a demigod. I really can't think of an occasion where a single child was the product of two fathers. And I also don't see the symbolism of it working for TSOA, since Pyrrhus is a psycho when he shows up at the end lol. Like that's no love child that right there 🥲

EDIT: Theseus was mentioned as having two fathers, Aegeus and Poseidon; I didn’t include him because in the version I'm familiar with he's just Aegeus' son, but in other versions of the myth he is also Poseidon's son. So I guess it depends on what version one has heard/wants to go for.

Anyway, that's my two cents! I hope I answered your questions 💙

[blkkizzat]

Helppp I feel so dumb for not knowing that was already on your kicktober list from last year 😭🙏 not me being proud of myself for thinking I came up with a good, original idea 🥲

ANYWAYS... I know you still have a bunch of works to get to from last year but I honestly have a lot more ideas I think that are original or not that popular.

I don't really expect you to use these tho just because I'm pretty sure you have a bunch of ideas aswel!!!

Ok moving on. 🤩

Stalker!Toji

it would have drugging (not really a kink 🤷‍♀️),EXTRA dirty talk, and public sex 😍

He’s been watching you for a while now ever since you caught his eye while bartending at a local club, after following you home every night,needing to know more about you, one night he comes to the club, offering you a “friendly” drink on him, but who knows what he does with it once you turn your back 😈

that’s basically the “plot”, you can change it however u want 😭 I tried to keep it short so you could think of some ideas for it yourself 🫠

(I have 0 idea how to write) but i definitely think it would be noncon/dubcon but reader would enjoy/consent in the end, like you said in your general warnings on kinktober 23

Succubus!Sukuna

Okk I’m pretty sure this was already done before but I have my own twists 🤭

Virginity Loss (reader), Monsterfucking, Dumbification

Your friends were all talking about how they already lost their virginity and it made you feel left out that you couldn’t relate, so you do some research on the internet on how to easily lose your virginity and find out about Succubus’s, you do some deep digging and find out how to actually summon one! Obviously thinking it’s not gonna work, you follow the directions.

I didn’t know how to end it off so it’s a bit trashy… I actually really like this idea 😫

ClutLeader!Geto

I know he’s a cult leader in general but in a lot of peoples AUs he isn’t, plus i imagine this one a little darker, anyways it would have sex toys, bondage, edging.

You join a cult bc some reason you wanted to, you were a total newbie when you first joined in, you didn’t know where anything was or any of the rules, so you end up roaming the halls in the middle of the night, trying to create a map in your head, until clutleader!Geto finds you mindlessly wandering around and decided to take likening to you.

I could have totally continued going but…yknow 🤷‍♀️ you don’t have to use these at all there just plus you already used all these characters from last year, I just thought it would be fun sharing it, you can totally switch up the kinks to your liking if you do decide to use one of these, I just picked out ones that went well with the idea.

-🪼

Nooo 🪼 pookiess dont feel bad! That just means its an extra good idea if we both thought it up!

Stalker!Toji - so my YOU fic The Nursery is pretty much stalker Toji. But I can do more of a one shot kidnapping scenario as—omg wait you just gave me such a good idea and it has nothing to do with this but its still for toji dfjhadskhsdfkj. I can't spill the tea now until i work it out more but *kisses u*

Succubus!Sukuna - hehe is this genderbent sukuna? Succubus is the female demon that goes after males and Incubus is the male demon that goes after females. I can do something similar though like with a ouija board or something. its been done before so i would have to think of something unique for him. (also i might end up doing incubus!geto)

CultLeader!Geto - you know ive never done anything for him as a cult leader. Theres been so many delicious fics too, but I will think of something. Definitely could explore something here. Although I do write my readers kinda sassy so let me think on how this would go down. This also could just be bimbo reader. fhsdksjhdjkfshdbv.

But tysm for the ideas!! I do appreciate them. Even if I don't use them it can be nice just to get the prompts as that helps me with other fics too! 💓 🫶🏽

[number-one-crush]

LF DoL M!LIxF!PC RP! (w/ me as the LIs and you as the PC!)

What an absolute fucking MESS of a title that is, lmaoooo TT

ASSORTED WARNINGS: 22+!! TW: dead dove and shit, it’s Degrees of Lewdity, please be careful people who don’t know what that is!

Hey (maybe future) friends! I’ve recently gotten into DOL and have been pretty obsessed with it lately. It’s got all the things I love, and by all the things I love, I mostly mean: EVERYONE LOVES ONE PERSON AND NO ONE IS HAPPY ABOUT IT and TOXIC FUCKING OBSESSIVE RELATIONSHIPS. So, without further ado…

THE PREMISE:

My favorite characters by far are Whitney and Kylar. I imagine I’d also probably really like Eden, too, but I actually haven’t really tried anything with him yet, and honestly, as much as he sounds like a real catch, I just really, really thrive off all the jealous drama between Whitney, Kylar, Sydney and Robin at school.

So like, I’d really like to RP that. And by that, I mean that I’d like to write Whitney and Kylar… and to a lesser extent, (mostly for drama) Robin and Sydney, as being wildly in love with and obsessed with your PC so we can explore the absolute mess of a fall out that inevitably causes. :v

My favorite thing to do with characters I love is to write for them: there’s something really fun about getting into that headspace and exploring the way they feel and how they’d behave, and I love it. I could write fanfiction, and I can’t lie: the temptations have been there! But honestly, it’s hard for me to motivate myself writing fanfiction when the chance to write against someone else and geek out over the absolute fucking disaster-nonsense our characters get up to together is so much more fun. ):

SO: DETAILS! 

I really only do MxF, with me playing the LIs as dudes and you playing the PC as a lady. Sorry for any other pairing combination, I just wouldn’t have the same inspiration to write for other configurations. ): I’m not going to tell you how your PC should look or really behave, and I look forward to hearing about her from you! I love getting excited about other peoples’ OCs!

I’ve got headcanons for the boys (which are pretty typical, honestly!), but I am of course open to input from you on what you’d like to see, too. :> 

Since this is DOL, obvious content warnings apply! Noncon/dubcon, abusive and messed-up situations… they pretty much come with the territory, though I’m not looking to make anyone uncomfy and I’ve got no problem toning some things down or ratcheting things up based on what you do or don’t feel comfy with! I’d like to feel comfortable talking OOC to make sure everyone feels okay about stuff. 

Which brings my rambling to my next point: DOL is obviously a sex game and I’m not opposed to raw smut or anything. But what I miss from the game is the emotional turmoil and fucked up sense of longing – and an obvious desire to possess PC – that I feel Kylar and even Whitney are drowning in. We get to see their actions, but not their thoughts, and I really want to do this to develop and dwell on those feelings! I want to see them and the PC involved in situations (fucked up as they are) that allow those things to really flourish and shine. I am an absolute slut for deep, anguished, sometimes violent obsession in characters… I just think getting to explore that is SUPER sexy in fiction, so maybe expect a like 80/20 plot to smut ration. Maybe 70/30? I feel like the smut hits a LOT harder if you’ve got a lot of pent up feelings behind it. 

Honestly, I don’t even NEED smut, but like, it’s DOL, so it kinda feels like it comes with the territory? Your girl here really lives the tumultuous, angsty emotional foreplay, whoops. ): I just really wanna write a bunch of really fucked up dudes falling in love with PC – bullying her, stalking her, meekly trying to protect her… you get the vibe!

ANYWAY, some things I’d hope for/need from you!:

+ Absolutely, positively, with no exceptions, you need to be like, middish twenties or older. I’m older myself and I absolutely have no desire to interact with teenagers. No offense to teenagers, you all can make great writers – just as someone who is absolutely not a teenager, it’s just what I’m comfortable with. Even if the subject matter wasn’t super-ultra-fucked, I wouldn’t feel comfy with it.

+ I’d like someone who understands that, as an adult, I have a job and a partner and a relatively active social life with my (one) good friend, so I will probably manage a post or two a day, sometimes a post every two! It might be more than that if I really get into the vibe, but ya know…

+ I like to be descriptive when I write, somewhere between pretentious-fuckoffery and wordy-but-functional. Sometimes I’ll do a few paragraphs… sometimes, I really get into it and it can be a couple pages. I tend to be reactive to what is needed for a scene: flashy back-and-forth dialogue is gonna make for shorter posts, but sometimes I really like getting into my character’s headspace and waxing poetic about how much they want their love interest for like, a few paragraphs or more. I’d like someone who can at least manage a few paragraphs! One liner stuff does nothing to me; I want to be able to feel like my characters have a reason to WANT your character, so I need something to work with! Please have a pretty good grasp of grammar and what not, too! Obviously stylistic choices can make for some fun grammar fuckery, and I’m not about to judge for some spelling errors, but like, please please have a pretty good grasp of writing! I live for good writing partners. ):

+ TENSE/POV: I am not super picky, but I admit I love the present tense second person of the game. As someone who was super into Homestuck, that shit just jives with me. That said, I’m open to a lot of different things, just absolutely NO FIRST PERSON. I cannot stand it in RP, it really takes me out. We can hash it out!

+ The ability to advocate for yourself OOC! The subject matter is icky, and I don’t want to traumatize anyone. We don’t need to be best OOC friends, but I hope we can feel comfortable with each other enough to hash things out outside of RP so we can both feel okay with whatever is going on! I’d also really like to just be able to gush about our characters OOC, please! TT Like, let’s be dumb and make playlists and pinterests, ahhhhhh! If you got a song you got that reminds you of things, PLEASE TELL ME, I wanna be a total fucking nerd about our fucked up children!

+ Discord! I tend to use discord to RP because servers make things easier to organize! Please use it! I don’t really like using anything else, womp womp. ):

So! If you’ve read all that, and you’re interested, please hmu here on Tumblr! I hate the ask/messaging system here, so like, you can just drop me some info on your PC and maybe your discord handle via one of those, and we can move to Discord to see if we’d make good RP partners! 

Thanks a bunch and looking forward to hearing from you! 

PS: Please excuse the Dabi theme-ing, I’m too lazy to change my very basic theme-ing. I love love fucked up dudes, and I cannot lie.

[hoe-doroki]

On the Job pt. 2

minors do not interact

warnings: 18+, fuck or die sex pollen (which means there are noncon/dubcon elements), reader is a sex worker, masturbation, face fucking, temperature play, (light) pain play, biting

pairing: todoroki x fem!reader

wc: 3.4k

summary: Super human society has a secret. Aphrodisiac quirks aren’t just the things of porn and fantasy–they’re actually quite common and too often fall into the wrong hands. Heroes, of course, do the best that they can, but when they get hit, they must be taken off the line of duty and someone needs to be able to activate the quirk’s release condition. If they’re single, who might that someone be? Obviously, you.

a/n: Half of me didn’t actually think that I would follow up part one, but I feel a heavy obligation towards my fanfic promises so...this is a weight off my shoulders, lol.

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

You’d gotten the call early today.

Not early in the day—truth be told, you’d hardly known what time it was before picking up the phone. No, you got the call early. As in not last minute. The call saying that your client would have to be transported to the agency from on site and they could tell you the details in the meantime.

The call saying you’d better drive to the agency, because you had to service a hero in an hour.

Now, patience wasn’t usually your virtue of choice—actually you didn’t often tend towards virtues in general. Save perhaps for kindness, which you preferred to deal out on your knees or your back, augmented by praise and the generosity of offering all three of your holes for your clients’ needs. But you were happy to cultivate it today, because an early call meant one thing.

You knew who was coming today.

Your pants were already off and you shirt was pushed up over your breasts as you leisurely played with yourself. You’d licked the tips of your fingers and gotten them started with slow passes over your clit, the other hand pinching your nipple, just a little too hard in prep for a hero who’d probably give it to you rough.

Maybe your reaction wasn’t right. Maybe it wasn’t kind of you to be so relaxed—relaxed and eager, actually—over the news that it was possible that Pro Hero Shouto would die. That he’d been hit with the particularly high stakes brand of aphrodisiac quirk and that if you didn’t trigger the release condition—that was: hot and heavy sex—his heart may very well stop or whatever happened on the other side of these troublesome quirks.

You wouldn’t know. After all, you hadn’t lost a single client yet.

So perhaps that was cold of you. Perhaps it would be more virtuous for you to be worried about him, fretting on the other side of the door with the guards over his ETA.

Then again, as stated: you’d never been one for virtue. Sin was much more fun. And surely it was better to make sure that whenever Shouto did show up, you had a wet pussy that he could waste none of his precious time sinking his cock into.

You groaned at the thought, dipping two fingers from your clit into your cunt and scissoring them. Your head lolled back against the pillows, eyes fluttering closed as you pressed against that front wall the flats of your fingertips, feeling that soppy wetness covering you and beginning to drip down your knuckles.

Yeah, you were ready for him.

In fact, you’d been waiting for Shouto longer than just today. After nabbing the number two pro hero, Dynamight, a few months back, you’d gone ahead and debased yourself  further—how much further was there to go, though, really?—by creating a list of your dream clients. You’d written Dynamight just to check him off, the memory of him cumming in you raw and licking you clean still hot between your thighs.

Your near encyclopedic knowledge of heroes—naturally, you took a healthy interest in your job—had then led you to daydream about Dynamight’s whole hero cohort. You added Red Riot to the list, dreaming of his abs, imagining riding them, teasing sweet whines out of him before backing up and dropping yourself on his cock. You thought of Deku, what it would mean for your ego to nab the number one hero, the flash of jealousy that would rise on his face when you let it slip that you’d already fucked his biggest rival, fucked his goddamn brains out and yours to boot.

Of course, you couldn’t do that. NDAs, after all. You’d already signed away your rights to mentioning anything about what happened to or with Shouto today. Still, you could dream.

Then, of course, your thinking had truly devolved, and you’d thought about the boys being paired up, fighting a villain with an unknown quirk only to be hit by the ever common, ever unknown—thanks to you and your prudence; oops, there was another virtue—aphrodisiac quirk and having to take care of both of them. Spit-roassting, Eiffel Tower, a goddamn daisy chain—anything. Long story short, you’d ended up cumming twice more on your hands before the evening was done.

But also on that list, was Shouto Todoroki.

Who, if you weren’t mistaken, was now on the other side of the door.

After all, these walls weren’t soundproof. It provided quite the show for the lucky guards on the other side, but hey, if you needed to scream for help, they had to be there. By the same coin, you could hear the shuffling on the other side, the footsteps approaching, and the telltale sound of the lock on the door being activated. You pressed your legs together, resting them to the side, hiding your glistening pussy artfully with your legs for the sake of modesty. Everyone knew what was happening here, but you didn’t need to send Shouto’s poor handler back blushing to their colleagues.

Shouto was ushered into the room and, without eye contact, someone yelled to you, “Ready, ma’am?”

“Ready!” you called back, and the door was closed, leaving you alone with the number three hero.

Without modesty, your legs fell open, revealing the mess you’d already made of yourself to Shouto. You dipped the fingers you’d been using into your mouth, and cleaned them dutifully. After all Shouto was still wearing his costume, and you did so hate the agency having to send those to the cleaners with your fluids all over them.

“Hey, bud,” you purred, running a hand slowly up one thigh. “I heard you have a problem.”

Pro Hero Shouto was known for his stoic personality. News conferences and interviews he participated in always consisted of a slow, even tone, and little beyond cold facts. There was something pleasantly mysterious about that, sure, but it didn’t exactly hint that he’d be quick to jump into bed. Sexy voice, though.

But whatever quirk he’d been hit with must have been strong, because the next thing you knew, the index finger from his left hand was tracing down the front of his uniform, cleanly burning a line straight to his already tented crotch. His accessories had already been taken off—his belt, gloves, shoes, even the clasp at his neck had been undone earlier. So there was nothing in his way as he pulled either side of his scorched uniform to the side and off his arms as he approached the bed.

“All business, huh?” you asked, pushing yourself up off your pillows by your forearms, watching as Shouto climbed onto the bed on his knees, finally pulling his jumpsuit down past his crotch.

You’d taken a bet with yourself on the color of his pubes—it’s not like you’d be losing either way if you got to see them. They turned out to be dual-colored, but not the stark red and white of his hair. No, they were more neutral in tone, like yours. Unlike yours, they were nested above a heavy cock, already shining with precum—or actual cum, you didn’t know—at the head.

Shouto didn’t reply to your comment, and you weren’t surprised. Some people went totally nonverbal when hit by sex pollen quirks, and that was fine. You’d rather someone button their lip than ruin the mood by saying something off, after all. All business was fine by you—this was your job, after all. And no matter the size of his mouth, his cock was just fucking right.

You naturally lowered your legs as Shouto began kneeing over you, cock in hand. Your brain only just managed to catch up to what was going on when his legs stopped on either side of your ribs, his leaking cockhead crossing your eyes before you. Automatically, your jaw dropped open, and Shouto’s cock smeared pre against your cheek and the corner of your mouth before sinking deep into your mouth, drawing a first obscene moan out of him.

A humming moan fell out of you too, barely able to take in the taste of Shouto’s cock before it was pressing against the back of your throat, springing tears to your eyes automatically. Something about aphrodisiac quirks so often seemed to play with the taste of these heroes’ cum. No longer was it bitter, but just heady, salty, and more pleasant than it should have been as it coated your tongue and throat. You adored it, and purposefully relaxed your muscles so that you could take more of him in.

Shouto didn’t hold back. With barely half a breath in your lungs, Shouto was thrusting deep in the back of your throat so that your spit dripped from your mouth and smacked wetly between his balls and your chin. You blinked tears out of your eyes and looked up at him to find blown pupils staring back at you, gaze hot and pointed.

There was light behind those eyes. Whatever Shouto was right now, it wasn’t unthinking, not pure instinct. No, the way he was fucking your throat, the way his eyes had you pinned—it was intentional.

Abruptly, Shouto pulled out, a think strand of spit snapping from his dick, cold on your tongue as you panted from the rough treatment. You held your mouth open, expecting him to shove back in once you’d caught your breath, but Shouto seemed to have other plans. He moved down your body, soaked cock again in his palm, and his eyes now set on your pussy. You reached for one of the condoms you’d set out next to you, and held it in front of him.

“Hate to sound like an after-school special, but no glove…”

Shouto paused, eyeing you for just a moment before taking the square and making quick work of it, rolling it over himself.

Then, abruptly, he put a hand on your cheek, drawing your eyes back up to his. “Thank you for your hard work. It does not go unappreciated.”

“What the—”

You were left agog at his statement, wholly unprepared as he swiftly took each of your thighs in one hand, spread them, and plunged in you to the hilt. You gasped high in your chest, your throat still tender from being rawed by Shouto’s dick. He leaned over you, sighing with a relief that doubled then halved the size of his chest. His forehead touched yours in a strange moment of intimacy, and, for a moment, you wondered if that was it. Was that all the release condition took? Penetration? Or had he cum and you just hadn’t noticed?

Were you going to be left to tend to yourself with the bullet vibrator in your glove compartment yet again?

Then Shouto leaned back, looked at you again with those sharp eyes, and began smacking into you with abandon.

“Fuck,” you let out as Shouto’s balls, still wet with your spit, left their mark on your ass with every deep thrust he gave you.

Shouto manhandled your thighs, grabbing them firmly in each hand as he reared back fully on his knees again, taking the lower half of your body with him. You reflexively braced with your arms, and soon they were the only part of you still in contact with the bed, along with your upper back and head still resting on the comfortable stack of pillows.

As was often the case, you’d lost control of the situation. You could barely match Shouto’s thrusts on your own as he repeatedly used his upper body strength to bring you to him, and his lower body strength to send his hips right back in return. If you tried to reach him, your fingertips would barely brush his thighs, much less any other part of him. You were totally at his mercy.

You couldn’t help but eyeball his broad biceps, flexed by holding up the weight of most of your body. And aside from the sweat dripping from his forehead—probably quirk-induced—he was showing little to no strain.

He hadn’t always had muscles like this, you were sure. You couldn’t help but remember pundits sounding off on Shouto’s overreliance on his quirk over physical strength, or the difference between his body and the massive tank that was his father, Endeavor. They’d shown clips of his body—handsome, always handsome—but either Shouto had done a lot of bulking in the last few years or those newscasters had been particularly unkind. Likely both. Because now, drops of sweat were trickling from his body in rivulets; there were no straight paths to go down. A bulging muscle here to dip around, the crease from a flexed ab there to pool in. You were hypnotized by his form, even the thighs straining under the part of his uniform that he hadn’t bothered to burn off.

Your mind was so enraptured by thoughts of Shouto’s body that the sensations happening to yours crept up on you. All at once, you realized that your thighs were burning. Actually, one was burning, and the other was freezing cold, both just under his palms and branching up the fingers currently painting five bruises into each muscle.

A gasp flew out of your mouth and your eyes rolled back as your thighs suddenly began quaking unbidden. Shouto looked down at you, his expression easy save for those passionate eyes, little huffs escaping his slack jaw. “Too much?” he asked.

Your head shook side to side, a vehement no as Shouto dug his fingers even deeper into your flesh, bringing dull throbs of pain so close to where every thrust brought about sharp flashes of pleasure. It felt like a betrayal when he just then loosened his grip to slide his hands up to your knees and hook them over his shoulder. Then those hands, right at the brink of freezing and searing pressed into the meat of your ass as he brought your hips to his with redoubled force.

That first new thrust sent Shouto’s head turning to the side, digging a painful bite into the fleshy part of your calf, making you cry out. A moment later, he let go, his tongue passing over the teeth marks like a salve over a wound.

All the dueling sensations had you close. You’d been teasing yourself for so long before Shouto had even shown up and now he was fucking into you like…well, like his life depended on it.

God, was it wrong to love fuck or die quirks?

You were quick to take a hand and put it back on your aching clit, despite the strain it put on your neck and upper back to lose one arm of support. Part of a good fucking was being folded like a pretzel, and you’d just book a massage appointment tomorrow to deal with it. Surely saving the life of the number three hero was worth a reward.

Shouto’s eyes honed in on your fingers moving rapidly over your clit, and you bet he could feel the twitches of your cunt approaching climax. A hand left your ass and went behind his head to pat your ankles. “Cross them,” he instructed.

Obediently, you crossed your ankles, making your position a bit sturdier as Shouto continued to drive you back onto him with one hand. Then that second hand went to yours, brushing it away with the backs of his knuckles. A surprisingly gentle gesture for the man who was kneading bruises into your ass and biting your leg. Then, with his thumb, he painted one slow, hard, blazing stripe up your clit, and you came instantly.

“Fuck!” you shouted as your back arched in midair, the crown of your head digging into the pillows as your neatly crossed ankles came undone, your thighs shaking and falling from Shouto’s grip. His cock slid out of you as your lower half bounced once on the bed. Before the springs could vault you back, Shouto was on top of you, pressing himself back in your still convulsing cunt.

His thrusts were long, desperate as he breathed into your neck. He mouthed the base of your neck with light bites and suckles—never quite kissing. Your thighs came back up around his hips and his left hand went back to squeezing your thigh. Meanwhile, the right came between your thighs, surprising you as two fingers began prodding at your entrance.

Almost immediately, you could feel the heat of the stretch. Or rather, you would have felt the heat of the stretch, had his fingers not been ice cold against you. You cried out as he curled his fingers forward while his cock kept thrusting straight through you, the hot and cold contrast nearly too much. You wondered how much more intense it would feel if Shouto were unbound by the condom, and you able to bear its full heat.

“Please,” you whimpered as your orgasm began to rise again, too quickly, nearly as sudden as the first one had been, but without all the build up. This one felt like it was going to tear out of you.

Just then, the nips that Shouto had been teasing over your neck went away, and he planted one more good bite on your shoulder as his thrusts became insistent, the fingers petting inside you matched with a cold thumb over your clit. And neither of you could hold on a moment longer.

Shouto groaned low and bone deep in your ear while your voice, still raspy from early, keened in his. Your thighs went tight around his waist and his hand was trapped between you as you both rode out your highs. It took a full minute for your muscles to unwind, and your feet to fall flat to the bed. At that point, Shouto pulled out and rolled over next to you, both of you panting as the sweat dried on your skin.

Shouto pulled the condom off of himself and found a trashcan to toss it into before falling flat on his back again. After a few moments of nothing but heavy breathing, he opened his mouth. “Thank you for your professionalism.”

You snorted. “You’re welcome,” you managed, keeping your laughter at bay. “That’s not what people usually thank me for.”

“Thank you for saving my life?” Shouto tried again, his gaze shifting over to you.

His eyes were still bright, but his gaze less sharp, obscured by dual-colored bangs falling over it. Suddenly, Shouto looked a great deal more innocent than the man who’d been fucking the life out of you just minutes ago. Perhaps an effect of the quirk wearing off, perhaps the effect of unfettered pleasure meeting relief.

“More common, yes,” you replied, unable to keep the smile off your face.

“You’re very good at what you do,” Shouto said, his eyes going to the spot where he’d bitten your shoulder. He circled it with one finger, brows furrowing. “You’re like a hero.”

“Hah,” you returned, looking up at the ceiling. You weren’t going to let this be the moment in your career that made you blush. “Vixen, the orgasm hero. I don’t think it would meet the commission’s guidelines.”

“Perhaps not,” Shouto said, sitting up and pulling up what remained of his costume, frowning at the spot where he’d torn it. You supposed you needn’t have worried about this costume going to the cleaners; the support team would likely toss it and make a replacement.

“There are clothes you can change into in the closet,” you said, pointing to the near invisible door in the back wall.

Shouto waved you away as he stood up. “This will be fine to make it to the locker room with.”

“Suit yourself,” you said as you pushed yourself up, trying to remember where you’d thrown your leggings before you’d started jerking of, grunting as your spine cracked.

Shouto plucked the leggings from near the foot of the bed and tossed them to you before heading towards the door. With his hand on the knob, he turned back and made eye contact with you one last time, the ghost of a smile you’d never seen before on his lips. “Thanks again…Vixen.”

As he closed the door, you could only blame your own impropriety, that utter lack of virtue that you first thought was:

Number two pro hero, Shouto: check.

[mypoisonedvine]

A Year Gone By | dark!Bucky Barnes x reader

happy birthday @nsfwsebbie​!!

it was supposed to be a surprise but then I couldn’t stop myself from telling you I was writing something, I managed to keep most of it under wraps though!  I hope the suspense pays off.  

idk if it’s weird that i made it a doctor reader when you’re not a doctor but listen...half the fun of reader insert is getting to vicariously live through a cool career right??  the other half of the fun is the obvious thing.  and it seemed a little creepy if i made the reader exactly like you but if you want it to be more accurate i will totally write you something with actual you in it lol

ANYWAYS I hope you enjoy it and most of all I hope you have a lovely, relaxing, fun birthday.  and i hope it makes you h word lmao.  ily darling <3

warnings: noncon, dubcon, stalking/kidnapping, ddlg, loss of virginity, bondage, oral sex (m and f receiving), anal sex, d/s, pet play, degradation, painful sex/pain kink, cockwarming, breeding, somnophilia (slightly), spitting, pregnancy mention, breeding kink, mention of drugging... I think that’s everything.

word count: just over 15.5k (YIIIIKES my bad)

Bucky always looked forward to appointments with you.  It wasn’t just because he had a crush on you, honest; you really were the best doctor he ever had.  Then again, between chain-smoking Brooklyn doctors who handed out morphine like candy and cruel Nazi or Soviet scientists, you weren’t competing with anybody too incredible.

“It’s not so bad,” he bluffed, but he couldn’t hide the wince when you touched his bruise.

“You’re not a very good liar, Sergeant,” you told him with a smile.  God, he loved when you called him that.  He hoped his body wouldn’t react to it in any uncomfortably obvious ways.  “Honestly, I’m a little worried about the bones.  I want to do an X-ray, if you don’t mind.”

“Go ahead,” he shrugged, “but you’re probably worrying too much.”

“You plan to walk off a compound fracture?” you scoffed.

“Bet I could, if you kiss it to make it better,” he smiled.  He was expecting you to giggle a little at the casual flirtation, which you did, but he was surprised when you bit your lip at the end of it.  That made it impossible to stop his cock from getting a bit interested, but thankfully it was still easy enough to hide.  Clearly his casual flirting was starting to get to you, and it made him especially impatient but he tried to stay calm.

“I’m a good doctor, but I’m not that good.  A prescription will do more for you,” you replied as you wrote something in his chart-- presumably that he needed to go down the hall for some x-ray work.

“If you say so.”

“Anything else bothering you?” you asked him.

“Oh, no, I won’t waste your time,” he dismissed.

“I’m getting paid, don’t worry,” you laughed.  “I don’t have any more appointments until after lunch.  Is there anything else going on?”

He shifted a little, the paper on the examination table crinkling as he did it.  “Um… it’s nothing, I just--” he glanced up at you but then looked away again, still embarrassed to admit it-- “I’ve had a little trouble sleeping…”

“Nightmares?” you pressed.  “Or general insomnia?”

“Um, nightmares,” he finally admitted, “not as bad as normal.  The meds helped.  Just… I still get them sometimes.”

“How many nights a week would you guess?” you asked.  But you didn’t look to his chart like it was a quiz or something, you kept looking at him with patience and compassion.  That was what really made his heart melt.

“Probably 2 or 3.”

“So we’re down from 6 to 7,” you remembered from what he’d said before you’d given him the medication he was on now, “that’s good.  That’s progress.  But, maybe we need to up your dosage if you haven’t seen better results after 4 weeks.  You haven’t missed any doses, have you?”

He tried to fight his embarrassed smirk but it was too late.

“Bucky!” you scolded playfully.  “I can’t up your dosage until you’re actually being consistent on the amount you already have, okay?  I know it can be easy to forget but you have to stay on it.  Set a timer on your phone or something if you need to.”

He nodded, but the problem wasn’t forgetting to take them as much as it was being ashamed that he needed them at all.  But he��d stay on them if it made you happy.

“Anything else?  Headache, twisted ankle, burns when you pee?”

He laughed and shook his head.  “No, I think that’s everything.”

“Great, then I’ll let you get to your newly-booked X-ray appointment.”  You handed him a sheet of paper for him to take to the X-ray office which informed the nurses there what angles you wanted on his ribs.  “Just know that you can call me if you need anything, alright?”

He took the slip of paper but suddenly couldn’t respond, too lost in looking at you and wondering if you’d felt that same jolt of electricity when his hand brushed yours.

“What are you looking at me like that for?” you asked, breaking the silence.

“You take care of so many people,” Bucky pondered aloud, “I just wonder if someone takes care of you.”

He could tell by your face that you didn’t like the way his tone shifted, but he refused to backpedal.  Just this once, he wanted to see you squirm a little bit.  

“Wanna lollipop?” you asked him nervously as you handed him the plastic-wrapped red sucker in offering, but he waved it away.  

He spent the rest of the afternoon thinking about how you would look with the cherry lollipop in your mouth: the way it would push your cheek out from the inside, stain your lips and tongue bright red, make your mouth taste like pure sugar.  

Of all the things he’d imagined before, that was the one that made him realize it couldn’t just be a fantasy anymore.  Thankfully, he hadn’t just been thinking of all the filthy things he wanted to do to you; he’d also been coming up with a plan.

~

The first thing you perceived when you woke up was the smell.  It didn’t smell like your room.  Such a simple difference, one you hadn’t even realized you would notice, but one that stood out instantly.

You opened your eyes and instantly spun your head around when you saw the grey cement room you were in.  The bed underneath you creaked, unlike your bed, and you looked down at it as if you somehow expected to be in an unknown room but still be in your own bed.  

It was then that you realized you were restrained with, of all things, satiny pink rope which pulled each of your limbs to the nearest bedpost.  There was enough slack that you could wiggle around some, but it wasn’t exactly roomy either.  Your heart raced as you pondered who could have possibly done this, and why.

You startled when you heard the door open, but relaxed when the menacing form suddenly struck you as familiar.

“Bucky,” you sighed with relief, “oh thank god you’re here-- quick, help untie me.”

As soon as you said it, though, you realized something wasn’t right.  He didn’t look concerned at all, or confused.  And that should be a good thing because it meant he had answers, except that you were suddenly realizing this was more complex than you were prepared for.

“Bucky… where are we?” you asked him, quieter, as you realized that he was not going to untie you immediately.  Even still you were coming to terms with the possibility that it wasn’t really a matter of where we were and where, specifically, you were.

“Somewhere safe,” he answered simply, stepping closer.

You didn’t exactly believe that.  

“Please, help untie me,” you requested again.

“I will,” he assured, “but I want to explain something first.”

Your heart sank straight through your stomach.  You didn’t understand what was going on quite yet, but you were getting the gist enough to know that this was really fucking bad.

“Bucky,” you pleaded as he sat down beside you on the bed, “please let me go.”  You felt very aware of how thin your pajama set was, how if he tried hard enough he could see your nipples hardening underneath your top for no apparent reason.

“Don’t get upset,” he soothed, “everything’s fine.  I’m not going to hurt you-- nobody will anymore.  You’re gonna stay here, with me, and I’m gonna take care of you.”

Your eyes burned with tears you couldn’t fight anymore.  “Don’t do this,” you begged, “I’m your friend-- we’re friends, remember?”

“Of course I know that,” he sighed, “but that’s not enough.  Couldn’t you tell I’d fallen in love with you?”

You shook your head, trying to process everything you were hearing.  “This is insane.  This is not what you do when you have feelings for somebody, Bucky.”

“What, you’re saying I should’ve just asked you out?”

“Well, I wouldn’t have been able to say yes-- because you’re my patient--”

“See?  That’s what the ropes are for!” he smiled, like he was actually proud of his problem-solving skills.  “You would’ve said yes if you could, I know.  But you couldn’t.  And now you don’t have to.”

You resented that he was right, that you would’ve dated him in a heartbeat if it wasn’t an ethical violation.  You got the sense there were going to be even more severe ethical violations in your future, though.

You continued to beg him to stop, but it fell on deaf ears as he reached under the elastic waistband of your pajama shorts and pulled them down slowly.  He gasped when he saw your pussy and you wished you could just disappear, turn invisible or, best of all, teleport out of here; anything to avoid this humiliation.

“Baby, you’re wet,” he observed.  You weren’t sure if the first or second half of the sentence made you more uncomfortable, but either way, you couldn’t stop the shivers from dancing up your spine.  “This all for me?  Do you like being tied up?”

You refused to answer, looking to the side as if the concrete wall was suddenly fascinating to you, but he grabbed your jaw and turned you to look at him.

“I know you don’t know all the rules yet, but here’s the first one, and maybe the most important: answer me when I speak to you.”

It was cold but not quite threatening; still scared you senseless, though.  You nodded.

“Do you like being tied up?” he repeated.

“N-no,” you answered.

“Answer honestly,” he specified.

You had, but you realized it was going to be safer to do what he wanted, so you cleared your throat and spoke again.

“Yes,” you whispered, “I like… being tied up.”

“That’s it?” he pressed.  “It’s not me being here, is it?  You never got wet when you saw me in appointments?”

This was going to be a lot harder than you anticipated.  It seemed like there was no right answer.

“Didja ever get wet for somebody else?  It was Steve, wasn’t it?”

“No!” you instinctively answered.  “Um, I like Steve.  But just as a friend.”

“Aw,” he smiled, “I knew you were the loyal type.  Remember just a minute ago when you were begging me to stop cause you were my friend?  I think you were lying then too, doll.  You didn’t want to be just friends with me.”

“Whatever you’re going to do, just do it,” you grimaced.  “I’m getting irritated.”

You yelped when he slapped the inside of your thigh, trying to pull away but only making it easier for him to dip under your leg so that he was between them, sitting back on the bed in front of you.

“Respect gets you a long way with me,” he promised, pulling a knife from a strap on his thigh and using it to quickly cut off the shorts.  “Sass does not.”

You winced as he slipped a finger into you-- metal, and it was cold, too.  Soothed the burn a bit, at least.

“Oh god,” he sighed, “just one finger and it barely fits…”  You watched realization pass over his face as his gaze moved to your eyes.  “Baby, are you a virgin?”

You closed your eyes because you knew they would reveal the truth.  In all honesty it was probably better that he knew so there was at least some chance of him going easy on you, and yet you were still embarrassed for him to find out.

“Oh, you’re going to spoil me,” he grinned.  “You really are too good to be true.”

A second finger pushed into you and a bite to the lip suppressed your moan.  

“I’ll warm you up first, don’t worry,” he cooed.  “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Then why did you tie me up?”

“That’s for your safety, baby.  I don’t wanna have to hurt you,” he clarified.

A third finger, immediately after you had adjusted to the second.  You had never had so much inside you before and it made you feel a bit dizzy.  His thumb grazed over your clit and you nearly jumped right off the bed as your hips bucked suddenly-- since when were you so sensitive?!

“Oh, poor little baby, you need it so bad,” he faux-pouted.  You couldn’t tell if it was a mockery or genuine concern.  “You’ll get it angel, don’t worry.  Daddy’s gonna take care of you.”

That word made you feel a little sick.  No wonder he needed to kidnap girls to get his rocks off, clearly this was the kind of stuff a normal date wouldn’t agree to.

Then again, it was Bucky Barnes.  He could probably get any girl he wanted, even if he had some weird tastes.  You still didn’t understand why it had to be you, specifically.  

His thumb stayed on your clit, the pressure moving from teasing to firm to nearly too much.  You tried to angle your hips away but the ropes stopped you (of course), and you were forced to take every sensation he gave you.

“You’re trying so hard to stay quiet, just let go,” he encouraged.  “I wanna hear how good I make you feel.”

“Maybe I’m just naturally quiet,” you bluffed, but even just those few words were strained, and surrounded by panting as you failed to catch your breath.

“Oh, we both know that’s not true.  I’ve heard you when you thought you were alone, doll.”

You knew what he must have meant, but it still made you whimper when he leaned in to whisper in your ear: “I heard you touching yourself.”

Your face was burning and you were sure you’d never blushed so hard in your life.  You couldn’t be sure how much he’d heard, but just the way he smiled down at you made you sure he must have heard the times that his name passed your lips as you reached your peak.  

Of course he couldn’t just let you stew in that, he had to mock you even further.

“Oh Bucky,” he recalled, raising the pitch of his voice a little, “please let me come, I’m so close, please…”

“Stop,” you begged, tears sliding down your temples.  The fingers twisted inside you as both of you groaned.

“Yeah, it’s not a very good impression,” he sighed, “it’ll sound better when you do it.  Don’t you wanna moan for me again?”

“You stalked me,” you realized aloud, “you spied on me at night, you kidnapped me--”

“And now we’re both getting what we want.  I know you wished it was my fingers instead of yours.  Doesn’t it feel good baby?  Admit it.  Tell me it feels good.”

You were determined to resist until he pulled his fingers out and used the metal hand to slap your pussy, both of you gasping at the wet noise it made.  He did it again and your hips bucked wildly even as you were trying with everything in you not to react.  One more and you finally moaned, the pain brief but strong while the pleasure never seemed to lessen.

“Just be honest,” he demanded, “I know you love it.  I just need you to say it.”

One more spank and you were finally willing to cut your losses.  “It feels good!” you exclaimed.  You cried out when he hit you again, not having seen it coming at all since you’d done as he asked.  “Say it again.”

“It feels good, Bucky, your fingers feel good,” you whimpered.

He finally seemed to calm down, giving you an oddly friendly smile.  “Was that so hard?”

You shook your head, just trying to appreciate the stillness while you could.  

“One little thing though: you don’t call me Bucky anymore.  My friends call me Bucky; you’re so much more special than that.  You’re my perfect little angel, and you call me Daddy.”

You saw it coming, but it didn’t make it any less awful.  You squirmed a bit as he pushed up your top, biting his lip when he got a glimpse of your breasts.

“Oh, when did these get hard, huh?” he smiled as he tweaked your nipples between his fingers.

“It’s… cold in here,” you explained uncomfortably.

“Uh huh,” he pretended to believe you.  “Don’t worry, we’ll find a way to warm you up.”

He let go of your tits so he could pull back and start undoing his belt; you swallowed dryly, not wanting to watch but unable to look away.

Of course he was big.  It explained his personality, and you’d had your suspicions (and/or fantasies), but now all it did was scare you.

“Will it hurt?” you asked weakly.  He smiled as he pulled off his shirt from behind his neck, tossing it aside.  

“No baby, I stretched you with my fingers so you can take me.  Might be a little bit of an adjustment at first, but we’ll go slow, okay?”

You couldn’t decide if it was sweet or patronizing.  A little of both, perhaps.

He leaned over you, resting one hand beside your head as the other guided his cock to rub through your folds.  You struggled again, barely able to process that this was actually going to happen, that you were going to lose your virginity tied up in some creepy sex dungeon to an obsessive patient who demanded you call him ‘Daddy.’  This wasn’t exactly the situation you had been saving it for.

“Ready for me, baby?  Want me to make you mine?” he asked with a look of excitement, even vulnerability.  Your body craved more after he’d left you dangling on the edge from his fingering, but your brain was thankfully still functioning properly.

“Please don’t,” you whimpered, “you can stop now, and I won’t tell anyone, and--”

“Baby, don’t talk like that,” he frowned.  “This is it, okay?  Us.  Just us.  Nobody else to get in the way.  You’re not gonna tell anyone ‘cause there’s no one to tell.”

“You can’t,” you denied, “I have a life-- people who care about me, who are going to notice that I’m gone--”

“No, babygirl, stop-- you’re not listening to me,” he growled.  “Stop fighting.  You’re mine.  You’re finally where you belong.”

“This is crazy,” you spat, “you’re crazy!”

“Baby…” he looked dejected, crestfallen.  “You’re the only one who’s ever helped me feel normal again.  If I’m crazy it’s only because I love you so much; I need you, doll.”

“You need intensive psychiatric care!”

Sadness shifted to anger as he sat back and stuffed his cock back into his trousers, even though it barely fit now that it was fully hard and leaking from the tip.

“I realize now I’ve given you more than you can handle.  I knew you liked me back so I figured you would understand a little sooner but… I should’ve known you need more time before you really admit to yourself that you need someone to take care of you.”

Your relief shifted to fear when he stood back up off the bed and stepped away.

“Wait, don’t leave me here,” you squeaked, “untie me, please.”

Instead he knelt down and pulled a box out from under the bed.  You couldn’t see what was inside when he opened it, but he seemed to find what he was looking for when he pulled out a vibrator and shut the lid.  It was thin and a little curved, so when he roughly shoved it into you it hit right on your g-spot.  You tried to squirm away but he held your hips down and turned it on to a setting that strobed the vibrations, teasing your spot but never giving you enough to get very far.

“I’ll come back when I think you’ve learned your lesson,” he informed you quickly as he started to leave the room.

“Bucky-- Bucky wait!” you called after him.  “There’s no food or water you can’t leave me here wait don’t go BUCKY!”

But he was long gone.  The door slammed behind him and echoed around the room; only when the sound was completely dead were you sure that he wasn’t coming back any time soon.

You had no way of knowing how much time had passed, but it felt like an eternity of you wiggling against the ropes, trying to either knock the vibrator out of you somehow or get it to move enough that you could at least come and feel some relief.  Trying to push it out with your muscles was useless since the curved shape kept it inside of you, and you couldn’t arch your back enough to press it into the bed-- and if you could, you weren’t sure what good that would do.

Every once in a while the vibration would echo through your clit and it made your eyes water.  You sobbed and bit your lip, hoping he would come back soon.

It was at least twice as long before he did, and at that point your voice had gone hoarse from calling out to him.  You cried out for Bucky at least a hundred times and got nothing; but when you called for ‘Daddy’ just once, he suddenly appeared.

Somehow his return didn’t bring much relief, because you weren’t exactly safe with him around… but at least you weren’t alone.

He reached between your legs and turned the vibrator off, though he left it inside of you.  You took a deep breath and appreciated the stillness, though your body panged with hunger from so much pleasure with no release.

“I hated doing that to you,” he breathed deeply as he sat beside you on the bed, “but it had to be done.  You were behaving so poorly.  I’ve gone easy on you up until now but I can’t tolerate any more rebelliousness, alright?”

You nodded slowly, feeling the weight of his disappointment sink over you.  

When he pulled out the vibrator, the tip of it grazed over your abused and sensitive g-spot and you bit back a groan.  He set it aside and admired the mess you’d made; you couldn’t see it, of course, but you could tell that there was a wet patch of arousal beneath you on the sheets.

“Your body is ready for me, but I’m not sure your mind is right yet,” he explained, steely gaze finally meeting yours.  “Are you going to be good, little girl?”

You were too exhausted to notice the nickname, or even to speak your reply.  You just nodded again, watching him as he started unlacing his boots and slipped them off, then took his socks, trousers, and underwear off along with them.

Shit, you’d nearly forgotten how big he was.  You swallowed with a dry throat and closed your eyes, just hoping it would be over with quickly.  

“Open your eyes babygirl, I wanna look at you,” he murmured, running a finger across your cheek.  You reluctantly obeyed and saw him hovering above you.  He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips and it felt so wrong, so empty and peculiar.  It was a weak facsimile of what a kiss was supposed to be like.  He closed his eyes and ran his fingers into your hair, and it had all the trappings of the kind of kiss you’d share as a goodbye after a first or second date, but without any of the stuff that mattered like positive feelings or consent or not being in a creepy cement sex dungeon-- or whatever this was supposed to be.

He pulled away and looked down at you again, anger just starting to brew in his eyes.  “Kiss me back,” he demanded.  This time when he pressed his lips to yours, his tongue slid between them and it made you feel a little sick but you did your best to reciprocate.  You found yourself trying to reach up to put your hands on his hair or neck but of course, the ropes made it impossible.

You felt his cock pressing between your thighs, rubbing up and down slowly, and your heart began to race.  One hand slid between your bodies to guide his cock towards your entrance and he said something but you couldn’t hear it because your ears were ringing.  

As soon as he pushed into you, your body jolted, trying to squirm away, but he just kept going, sliding into you in one long stroke.

Physically, it wasn’t painful.  The vibrator had helped relax your walls, even numbed them a little bit.  And yet, even without pain it was so much.  You felt like the wind had been knocked out of you, like you were so full you couldn’t even breathe.  

When he was fully seated inside you, Bucky moaned deeply, kissing your neck and mumbling something about how perfect you were.  But all you could focus on was his cock pulling back only to slam home again.  

“Fuck!” you yelped.  You had no idea anything could be so deep inside you.  

“Watch your language, angel,” he purred, biting at your earlobe.  “You promised to be good, remember?”

The hand that had been gripping your thigh suddenly moved to rub your clit and you choked on a moan.  

“It’s okay, it’s supposed to feel good,” he encouraged.  “It’s okay to come, baby.  I know how bad you wanna come for me.”

You were embarrassingly close as he had observed, a side effect of having been left on the edge for so long.  You could feel your walls rippling around him, and you wondered if he could feel it, too.  Every thrust stroked parts of you that you hadn’t even realized existed, and when he pushed as deep as he could into you, the tip of his cock hit something so sensitive that you genuinely couldn’t tell if it was painful or pleasurable.  

“Are you close?  I don’t know how much longer I can last, you’re so tight,” he groaned.  “Fuck, you want me to fill you up don’t you?  Wanna be full of Daddy’s cum?”

Before you could even consider ignoring his question, he wrapped his left hand around your neck.

“Yes, Daddy,” you croaked through the weight on your windpipe, “fill me up, please.”

Talking like that made your heart twist with shame but somehow pushed you even closer to your peak.  You knew he could tell that you were turned on by it from the way your muscles tightened around him.

“I will baby, I promise,” he smiled.  “Do you wanna beg to come, like you did when you were by yourself?”

You moaned because it was like a fantasy come true, in a monkey’s paw sort of way.  This is what you had wanted, right?  Just… in a way completely different from how it was turning out?

“Daddy, please,” you answered, so quiet and heavy with embarrassment that it was barely above a whisper, “please let me come.”

“Oh fuck,” he responded hoarsely as his thrusts came faster, more ragged.  “Come, princess.  I wantcha to scream for me.”

As you started to fall over the edge, you felt like you had lost control over your body; your arms and legs tugged at the ropes as jolts of pleasure coursed through them, and your mouth was spilling moans and whimpers and even his name.  His real name, specifically, though he thankfully didn’t seem to mind.  He kissed you again as he came, moaning into your lips and still inside you.  

You felt cold and sticky and humiliated as he sat up and pulled out, admiring the way your hole leaked out his seed and flexed involuntarily around nothing.

“Oh look at you,” he praised, “my perfect little girl.  You’re even more amazing than I dreamed, doll.”

You tried not to listen or watch him as he got off the bed, coming back with boxers on and a damp washcloth to clean you.

“I’m gonna untie you now, okay?  Promise you won’t kick me or anything?” 

You quickly nodded, willing to promise anything if it meant getting untied.  “You’ll just do more harm to you than to me if you try anything, angel,” he reminded you quickly as he started work on your right ankle.  The ropes were silky so they hadn’t been rubbing your skin too raw, but there was still soreness from the tight knots.  You were a bit surprised when he gave your ankle and foot a brief massage once he was done untying the rope, and did the same to your other foot, and then your wrists and hands.  It helped a lot with getting the blood flow back to normal, and you almost considered thanking him but that would’ve been ridiculous.  ‘Hey, thanks for the foot massage, next time don’t tie me up and rape me first but, otherwise 10/10.’  

~

Bucky was so impressed with the progress you’d made in a week.  Only two escape attempts and you’d taken your punishment quite well both times.  He had expected a rocky start, he’d understood what he was getting himself into, so none of it really came as a surprise.  You’d managed to get a good crack at his nose once, kicking him straight between the eyes before making a run for it.  Yes, it hurt like a bitch and took a few days to heal, but it had actually been a blessing in disguise; that day you’d made it out the front door and realized that you were in the middle of nowhere.  When he’d caught up to you, you were standing barefoot and half-naked in the snow, not even running anymore because, apparently, you’d realized there was nowhere to run to.  

“I built this place for us, for you,” he explained.  “Somewhere far away, all to ourselves.  Nobody for miles.”

“How many miles?”

He chuckled a bit to himself.  “Baby, it’s a really big number.  You’re too little to understand.”

Normally you resisted that sort of talk but this time it shut you up.  Hopefully you were beginning to properly realize that this was your new life.

“Are we in New York?” you asked, quieter.

“I’m not sure if I should tell you that yet.  I don’t want you to get any complicated ideas in that pretty little head,” he cooed, kissing your forehead for emphasis before leaving you behind to start cooking dinner.

“I’m not eating with these,” you announced firmly as he set your place at the table with a set of pink, rubber-coated utensils.  

“It’s too messy to eat with your hands,” he frowned.

“Do you honestly not realize that I want to eat with normal utensils?  Or are you just trying to drive me insane?”

Bucky set your plate down a little too firmly, making you and the food on top jump.  “Don’t talk back to me.”  

“I just… it’ll take me forever to finish an adult-sized portion of food with child-sized utensils.”

“Then maybe you’re not ready for an adult-sized portion,” he threatened.  That seemed to get your attention, but you stayed quiet.  “Maybe you’re not hungry at all?”

“I’m hungry,” you denied.  “Please, I want to eat.”

“And I want to eat with you.  But this roundabout is getting on my last nerve, doll.  Now are you gonna be good and eat your dinner?”

“...yes, Daddy,” you sighed.  He smiled and sat down across from you.  You were learning.  Slowly, but surely.

Bath time was always a fight, though.  You still had some ridiculous notions about ‘privacy’ and ‘autonomy’ and crap like that, and it meant that you were likely to act up and refuse to be washed.

“I can do it myself!”

“But you don’t have to, don’t you see?”

“I want to.”

“The world doesn’t revolve around what you want, angel.”

“Let me guess: it revolves around what you want?” “No,” Bucky shook his head and tried to summon some more patience, “I have to take care of you.  Sometimes that means doing things you don’t like, because I know what’s best for you.”

“I hate you,” you mumbled as you turned away, and that really broke his heart.  He knew you didn’t really mean it, but it still hurt.

“Baby… don’t say that,” he pleaded as he turned your face to him.  “It hurts Daddy’s feelings when you say things like that.”

“Yes, that was the idea,” you hissed.  “I just want to take a shower, alone.”

“Any chance you had at that is long gone,” he grimaced.  “What you’re getting is a bath, with me, and if you quit this attitude now you might still be able to avoid getting a spanking as well, do you understand?”

Your shoulders slumped as you nodded.  He knew your poor little bottom was still sore from the last spanking, and as he helped you undress for the bath, he could still see a few welts along the skin.  He kissed them quickly, a reminder to both of you what he was capable of, before helping you into the water and slipping in behind you.  It was spacious, so there was ample room for the two of you, but he still held you close and pressed your back into his chest.  

He had a lot of ideas about what you two could do in this bath, but he knew that now was not the time.  Still, he let his mind wander and smiled to himself when you gasped from his erection pressing into your thigh.

He helped you wash your hair, and for that moment where your head was nearly submerged and he was using his fingers to massage out the shampoo, you looked so peaceful.  He normally only got to appreciate this look on your face as you slept, but you were almost smiling this time, and it made his heart sing.  A week of tantrums was worth it for just a few quiet moments like this.

“I’m gonna let you finish up on your own, okay?  I trust you not to do anything dangerous…” he decided as he stepped out.  

“Really?” your face instantly lit up.  Sure, you’re never supposed to leave them alone in the bath, but he was feeling extra generous and he sympathized with your desire for control.  Freedom could be good for you, in moderation.

“Of course.”

“T-thank you, Daddy,” you awkwardly responded.

He dried off and dressed, and waited nearby in the living room, listening to you drain the bathwater and start a shower.    

You emerged wrapped in a towel and looking slightly lost.

"Honey, where are your clothes?" he asked you with a furrowed brow.

“I don’t have anything to wear,” you informed him.  Oh, right.  You were being resistant to wearing the clothes he had picked out for you.  Apparently you found the overwhelming presence of baby pink to be tacky, and you hated that everything was cute and tiny… he couldn't understand seeing something cute and tiny and not liking it.  After all, you were the most adorable thing he'd laid eyes on and it made it impossible not to like you.  You just needed clothes to match.

“I have clothes laid out for you,” he explained.

“I’d rather be naked than wear what you pick for me,” you snarled.

“Hey, I wouldn’t complain,” he shrugged, trying to suppress his frustration.  “Don’t come bitchin’ to me when you’re cold, though.”

You sat next to him on the couch, defiantly naked and confidently ignoring him.  He admired your stubbornness, or at least he found it amusing.

“Do you wanna watch a movie now?” he asked, but he knew you had figured out that this was a mandatory activity.

“Don’t see any reason to wait,” you smiled sarcastically.

Of course, when he got up to show you some DVDs so you could pick what you wanted (Wall-E; he knew you didn’t actually want to watch that since your typical fare was horror and action movies, but it was your favorite of the options), he quickly turned down the thermostat.  Perhaps a comfortable 55 Fahrenheit would help you remember why it’s important to take what Daddy gives you.

He hadn’t seen Wall-E before but he found it oddly relatable.  A robot, built for someone else’s purpose, abandoned in a filthy, empty world… it brought back some old feelings that he managed to press back down.  

Regardless, he was distracted from it when he could literally feel you shivering from across the couch.

“Are you cold, darling?” he asked presumptuously.

“No,” you denied, barely managing to suppress the chattering of your teeth.

“Do you want the clothes?” 

“Shut up.”

He just laughed a little to himself, ignoring your rude language and turning back to the TV.

It did kill him a bit to have to pretend he didn’t care when you were obviously uncomfortable, but you would’ve been even more irritated with him if he’d held you down and forced you to put the outfit on.

~

This fucker was smart, you’d give him that.  Or maybe it was just that you were stupid.  Not stupid, really, but having no sense of self-preservation.  Why had you chosen this hill to die on?  You couldn’t even remember why you’d put up a fight at all.  You were so cold that you couldn’t even understand what could’ve ever compelled you to reject an offer of clothes.  Didn’t help that you knew he was so close, that if you cuddled up to him you would be warm, but that it would mean the loss of your last shred of dignity.

Only a week and you were starting to completely lose your sense of yourself.  You searched within and couldn’t find any of the fight you’d had so many times before.  You remembered that time you kicked him right in the face, and where you once found pride at the memory, you found guilt.  You felt guilty for hurting him, after everything he’d done to you-- why?

“B-bucky…” you finally relented not even an hour into the movie, stammering from the force of your shivers.

“Hm?”

“I want… I want the c-clothes.”

He smiled a little, in an insulting way.  “Ask nicely, doll.”

“P-please, Daddy,” you whimpered.

He came back with the clothes in hand, but when you reached out for them, he shook his head and motioned for you to stand up.  You sighed but obeyed, your entire body shaking with violent shivers as your bare feet hit the cool concrete floor.  

He knelt down, holding the lace panties open for you as you shyly stepped into them.  He pulled them up to your hips and let the elastic slap your skin a little as he let go, making you jump.  He did the same with the fuzzy pink pyjama pants, running his hands over soft fabric for just a second as he stood up, helping you into the loose grey sweatshirt.  It was the least feminine thing he’d ever let you wear, noticeably absent in anything pink or fuzzy or girly or adorned with bows.  You only realized as it slipped over your head that it was his, because once you plunged into darkness inside of it, you were overwhelmed with the smell of him.  You wouldn’t have known that you could recognize his smell, but now that you were in it, it was undeniable.

You were almost surprised to see him when your head popped through the neckline, somehow.  It’s not as if you had forgotten he was there in the three seconds you couldn’t see him, just that he looked so different to you now.  He had this stoic, nearly stern look on his face as he helped you get your hands through the sleeves, and the way he caressed your fingers as they emerged from the cotton was so upsettingly tender.

“Daddy…” you mumbled, and he looked back at your face.  

“Is this better?  Are you warmer?”

“My feet…” you realized, looking down at them.  

“I’ll get you some socks, baby,” he nodded, dashing away for a moment.  You felt colder with him gone.  It couldn’t be loneliness, could it?  Even knowing he’d only be gone less than a minute, you were unduly anxious for his return.

He came back and held your feet up by the ankle one at a time as he rolled pink fuzzy socks-- with lace at the ankle, of course-- over your feet.  You wiggled your toes into them, finally feeling like you’d be able to get warm again.

“Let’s finish the movie, okay?” he suggested, rubbing his hands on your arms.  You nodded, allowing him to guide you back to the couch and finding yourself cuddling into his side as he laid an arm over your shoulders.

You barely managed to pay attention as you felt his hand slip lower, resting on your waist.  Then your hip, then your thigh.

Something about the way the lace panties rubbed against your pussy made you feel so oddly sensitive, and even the inside of his sweatshirt was just rough enough to make your nipples react every time you adjusted your position.

You figured he realized your condition pretty quickly, but he didn’t react until a moan, so quiet that you were sure he wouldn’t hear it, passed your lips.

“Everything alright, doll?” he asked, failing to hide the fact that he clearly knew the answer.

You didn’t respond, distracted by his other hand reaching over and stroking your thigh.  You were caged in his embrace now, and your heart raced in a way that was oddly lacking in fear.

“Tell me what you’re feeling,” he demanded, watching your nervous reaction to his intensity.

“Daddy I… I feel tingly,” you murmured, feeling yourself blush.

“Where, baby?”

“D-down there,” you admitted as you forced your eyes shut, too embarrassed to look him in the face as you said it.

“You need Daddy’s help?”

“Please,” you whispered, hating yourself a little for needing him but too desperate to really care.

In one motion he’d already turned the TV off, pulled you onto his lap, and started kissing where the baggy neckline of the sweatshirt exposed your collarbone.

You were rubbing yourself on his thigh and you didn’t even know how to stop.  It felt so good.  It made your skin warm up even faster as you recovered from the cold.  

He slipped his right hand into your pants as the other pulled you closer until your face was buried in his neck.  If there was anything worth appreciating about Bucky, it was how good he was with his fingers.  He knew your body better than you did at this point-- but then again, he had spent so much time exploring it in one week that he was probably competing with you already in terms of practice time.  

“Oh my god,” you moaned as his fingers moved faster and firmer, making your hips jerk forward unexpectedly.  

“It feels good?” he asked in that way that made it obvious he knew the answer.

“Yes, Daddy, it feels so good,” you whimpered.  You’d gotten pretty good by now at appeasing him by performing the role he wanted you to play… so good, in fact, that it was starting to feel very real.

Just as you were grabbing onto his shoulders to hold you steady through your orgasm, he was pulling out his hand and reaching for his own pants instead.

“Need to be inside you,” he explained quickly as he pushed them down and revealed his hard, leaking cock.  “I need to be inside you when I make you come.”

He helped you slide off your pants and underwear but pulled you back into his lap the absolute second they were discarded.  He slid you down onto his cock with a groan, and your face was so hot as you processed how wet you were, how easily he entered you.  Your joy halted, though, when he held your hips down.  You tried to wiggle around for some friction but he was so strong that it was a complete waste.

“Daddy,” you mumbled with confusion, “what are you doing?”

“You’re mine, baby, ‘m gonna use you how I please,” he reminded you darkly, “and right now I want you to stay still and wait.”

“But--” 

He slapped your ass harshly, and you whimpered but decided not to put up much more of a fight.

All the while as you tried to stay still, he was kissing your neck and jaw and cheeks, murmuring praises and leaving the softest bite marks every once in a while.

“Please let me move,” you sobbed against his shoulder, having to fight everything in you not to start grinding on him like your life depended on it.

“I’m not ready yet,” he denied.

“I’ll be good, I promise,” you whimpered.  “I’ll do anything.  I just need to come, and I need to make you come, please…”

With a hand on either side of your hips, he started to move you on top of him, excruciatingly slow.  Your head fell back from how wonderful just that felt.  

“Anything?  You’re gonna spoil me talking like that, doll.”

“Oh god, anything, just move a little faster, please,” you begged.  Of course you knew it was a bad idea, and you figured you were going to regret saying it, but your need was surpassing your sanity at the moment.

He grabbed your face and pulled you down until your lips were almost brushing his, but not quite.  “Keep riding my cock, babygirl.”  You nodded, finally free to pick up the pace to where you wanted it, and you bit your lip as his cock stretched you exactly how you needed it to.

“Daddy, you feel so good inside me,” you moaned.

“I can tell,” he smiled, “you’re making those perfect noises, it’s killing me not to flip you over and fuck you so hard right now.”

You were much more inspired by that mental image than you expected to be.  Those few times he’d gotten really rough with you, it had made you so wet you thought you might get dehydrated.

When he spoke again, his voice was so low that it sounded like a growl, echoing in his chest and making shivers run up your spine.  “I know what I want you to do for me.”

You swallowed and braced yourself as he pulled you even closer, looking right into your eyes.

“Tell me you love me,” he demanded.

You gasped, tears starting to burn at the back of your eyes.  It was the last thing you expected, but it also tracked.  Of course that was what he wanted.  But now that you were trying to form words and nothing would come out, you were kind of wishing he’d just said he wanted anal.

“D-daddy,” you stammered, distracted by him grabbing your hips and moving you even faster on top of him.  He was practically throwing you up and down on top of him, and somehow doing it effortlessly.

“Just say it,” he whispered.

“I love you,” you whispered back.  He smiled and pulled you into a deep kiss, swallowing every moan as you felt yourself barrelling towards your peak.

“Please, I’m about to come-- can I come, Daddy?”

“Almost,” he nodded, “say it again, babygirl.”

“I love you,” you panted, “Daddy, I love you, please--”

“One more time,” he grunted, watching your face. 

“I love you!” you yelped, unable to hold back your orgasm any longer and feeling your walls flutter as sensation washed over you.  Thankfully he wasn’t far behind, only thrusting up into you a few more times before he spilled himself with a groan.

He kissed you long and slow, staying inside you even as his cock began to soften a little.  When he pulled away, he looked up at you with an expression that brimmed with restrained excitement.

“Oh, doll, you have no idea how good it is to finally hear you say that,” he beamed.  “We’re gonna be so happy here together… just me and my best girl, right?”

“Right,” you smiled, but as soon as you blinked a tear was rolling down your cheek.  He wiped it away with his thumb.

“Don’t cry,” he soothed, “everything’s finally the way it’s supposed to be.  You’re finally where you belong, with me.”

You nodded weakly and felt whatever grip you had on your sanity loosening.  Dreams of escape faded as he carried you to bed, holding you in his arms all night long.  You were beginning to embrace the simplicity of just letting life happen to you.  For every time you felt belittled and patronized by his coddling, there was another time that you secretly felt protected and loved.  The truth was, even though you had experienced so much that you couldn’t begin to describe in the past week, you had been relieved of so much of the stress you dealt with before.  As you drifted to sleep, you only hoped that you could manage to hide that truth from yourself just a little bit longer.

~

He was honestly proud of himself for managing to keep his hands off you while you slept all this time.  But it wasn’t too much longer before you woke him up with your stirring.  At first he was just going to give you a quick hug and then get back to sleep, but then as he pulled you closer, he realized you were dreaming.  And when you moaned quietly in your sleep, he realized it wasn’t just any dream.

He smiled to himself as he kissed your neck gently, wondering if you would wake up or not.  It was sort of a win-win either way for him.  He let his hands slide down your body, listening to your breathing as it began to pick up.  Your mouth fell open and it made your sounds even more apparent as he carefully opened your legs.

“Oh baby, you’re drenched,” he murmured to no one in particular, admiring the way your pussy glistened in the low light of the room.  This was one of those times that he really appreciated his choice to make you sleep naked almost every night.

One metal finger sliding through your folds made you shiver.  He wondered if it was from arousal or if the metal felt cold on your warm skin.  Your clit was swollen, and apparently extra sensitive from the way your sleeping body erupted in goosebumps when he drew lazy circles around it.

Suddenly lacking in the patience more foreplay would require, he found himself shoving down his boxers and stroking his cock, preparing to push into you.  If that didn’t wake you up, he’d be slightly concerned… but he wasn’t sure if he’d be concerned enough to stop fucking you.  Thankfully he didn’t have to face that dilemma because the second he was pressing his head into your opening, your eyes flew open.

“Daddy!” you yelped, your voice sounding a little strange as you were torn from your sleep.

He bottomed out and groaned softly, relishing how tightly you wrapped around him.  “You looked so beautiful, baby, I couldn’t help myself.”

You mewled but said nothing, only wrapping your hands around his biceps as he pulled back to thrust into you again.  

“What were you dreaming about?” he asked firmly.

“N-nobody-- I mean, uh, nothing,” you stumbled over your words.

“Oh, you can’t lie to me very well can you?  It’s okay doll, you can tell me, but if it’s someone other than me I’m probably gonna kill him.”

He felt you tense up a little and he knew he’d scared you.  He sort of wanted to do it again, because he loved the way your cunt tightened in that moment, but he decided against it.

“Aw, I’m just joking,” he dismissed, though he wasn’t quite sure if he actually was or not.  “Go ahead, tell me what you were dreaming.”

“Y-you were there,” you explained, “but it wasn’t just you.”

“Is that so?”

“Um, yeah,” you deflected nervously.

“Go ahead, spit it out,” he hissed as he started to thrust into you a bit harder.  

“Well, uh, Steve was there too,” you finally admitted.  A lot of emotions hit him at once when he heard you say that.  Of course jealousy was prominent, but it was different than it would’ve been before... you were home now, and nobody could take you away.  Both of you knew that.  So it might have been a slight blow to the ego, but he didn’t see Steve as a threat.  What he did see was an opportunity to make you squirm, which he was always looking for.

“Was he watching us?” Bucky pressed.

“Uh, sort of…” you trailed off.

He leaned down, putting his lips right against your ear.  “Was he fucking you?”

You whimpered but he could tell you were turned on.  He reached down and roughly rubbed at your clit.  “Be honest, darling.”

“He wasn’t,” you explained, “you were; you said he wasn’t allowed to… but I gave him a-- a blowjob.”

As much as Bucky wasn’t exactly the sharing type, he was intrigued by the mental image of you stuffed with cock at both ends like that.  Even more so he was intrigued by the fact that it apparently turned you on.

“Is that what you want, huh?  One cock isn’t good enough for you?  Who knew you were such a fucking slut.”

“‘M not!” you denied.

“Then why are you soaked from dreaming about choking on somebody else’s cock while I fuck you, huh?”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“And how did you feel when I told Stevie he wasn’t allowed to fuck you?  Even in your sleep you know your Daddy owns you.  That this is my hole and I decide everything that happens to it.”

You moaned so loud that he was afraid he would come right then and there.  You sounded like heaven.  He thrust into you as hard and deep as he could, slamming into your cervix and hitting your clit with his pelvis with each brutal motion.  You cried out and dug your nails into his skin.  

“Fuck, you like it rough don’t you?  Of course you do.  ‘Cause you’re Daddy’s needy little whore.”

“Yes, I’m close!” you yelped.

“Doesn’t matter, I’m not gonna let you come until you beg for it.  Seems like you need to remember that I’m the only one for you.”

“Just you, Daddy, I only want you!” you reassured, but he wasn’t buying it.

“I’d die before I let you get on your knees for another man, do you believe me babygirl?”

“Yes, I know Daddy, I’m yours, there’s nobody else.”

“If you wanna come you better start askin’ really nice,” he growled.

“Please, Daddy, I want you to make me come!  It feels so good, please…”

“Keep going.”

“You’re amazing, your cock feels amazing, I wanna come for you so bad--”

“Fuck, baby, beg me to use you.”

He knew you were flustered by that.

“I-- I don’t know how,” you protested.

“Oh come on, you’re dumb but you’re not that dumb,” he grinned.  “Just how I said it.”

“Use me,” you murmured in defeat, “please.”

“That’s it,” he praised, “just like that-- come for me, doll.”

You were so obedient, tightening around him and nearly screaming with pleasure the moment he commanded you to.  He wasn’t far behind, succumbing to the perfection of your wet heat and filling it with his climax.

“Fuck!” he groaned when he hit the peak of it, trying somehow to focus entirely on both the way you felt and the way you sounded.

Normally he cleaned you up after this but right now he wanted his come to leak out of you all night, make your thighs and the sheets sticky.  Apparently you had some sort of implant or something which kept you safe… he was trying not to count the days until it wore off.  He figured you would totally lose it if he told you that he wanted to get you pregnant, and yet, he was surprised that you hadn’t asked him about getting your implant replaced.

~

You knew that life was unpredictable and all that, but if never in a million years would you have expected for the Winter Soldier to be painting your nails.  But there he was, focused intently on each stroke of the tiny brush as he held your hand still.

“This’ll help you stop chewing your nails,” he gave as his excuse.  It was almost believable, except that he did your toes too.  Amazingly enough, you’d never chewed on those.

They were actually sort of pretty, if you were being honest.  You admired them a little, as they dried.  It wasn’t a perfect paint job by any means, but much better than you expected from Bucky and honestly, a bit better than you would’ve done it in all likelihood.  The baby pink color was a little nauseating as always, but it admittedly did look nice with your skin tone. 

“What do you say?” he prompted.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you smiled.  “It looks nice.”

“You’re welcome, angel.  I think so too.  We’ll take ‘em for a spin when they’re dry.”

You swallowed.  You had a pretty good idea of what that would entail.

Next was your hair.  Pigtails, the way he always did it.  You never quite understood what he liked so much about turning you into a girlier, more childish version of yourself, but you were finally embracing the things that you liked about being in this role.  He certainly pampered you, which was hard to complain about.  In your whole time here (you struggled to keep track but it must have been over a month now) you'd never cooked once.

After lunch he had you on your knees, looking up at him while you started to unzip his fly.  You found yourself salivating a little as you pulled his half-hard cock out of his boxers.

“Baby, your hands are so small…” he noticed reverently.  “Barely fit around it.”

“It’s not that they’re small, it’s that you’re so big,” you replied, more honest than you were used to being with him.

“You flatter me,” he grinned.  “Do it some more.”

You felt put on the spot, but feared disappointing him.  “Daddy, your cock is… so big,” you improvised, still stroking him as he got harder for you, “I can’t believe it fits inside me.”

“Hmm, it almost doesn’t,” he recalled.

“But it feels so good when-- when I get used to you and, um, your cock… stretches me…”

He groaned a little, and you moved your hand faster.

“Fills me up so good, Daddy,” you moaned, getting more into it than you had intended to.  “Your cock feels so fucking good, it’s like it’s made for me--”

He cut you off suddenly by pushing you back onto the mattress, hovering over you as a muscular hand wrapped around your throat.

“Got quite the mouth on ya, doll,” he growled.  “Do I need to wash it out with soap?” 

You shook your head; he wasn’t choking you hard enough to stop you from speaking entirely if you had really wanted to, but you were too stunned to say much.  His attitude could flip on a dime like this, and you could never see it coming.  The fear made your heart race; the anticipation made your thighs clench together.  

He smiled as he pulled back, letting go of your neck and reaching for his cock instead.  “I can tell you’re worked up.  Go ahead, touch yourself.”

You hesitated because typically that would be an infraction, but he nodded for you to continue as you nervously reached between your legs.   

You gasped softly when you touched your clit: it was swollen, and especially sensitive.  You hadn't realized how turned on you really were.  Slowly, you started to rub circles around it as your hips rocked with your movements.

"Does it feel good?" he asked, and when you looked up at him, he was stroking himself as well.  You nodded quickly.  "'M gonna come on that pretty face, little one.  Beg me for it."

"Daddy…" you murmured in shock, "I… want you to come on my face, please.  Wanna be covered in it."

"You're not a good liar," he grinned.  "I know you really want me to fuck you."

He wasn't wrong, so you nodded again and watched his hand speed up as it moved up and down his length.

"You poor thing," he cooed.  "I fuck you daily and you're so disappointed to be going without, to just be getting my come on your face like the dirty little whore you are."

His words stung but your hand was moving faster between your legs.

"You're getting close, aren't you?  Wait until I'm ready," he ordered.  You swallowed dryly but slowed down a little to buy yourself some time.  

He grunted a bit and you really hoped it was signalling an orgasm because you felt yours building unstoppably.  You didn't even think you could pull your hand away from yourself if he asked you to, you needed to come so bad.

"Fuck, open your mouth baby-- stick your tongue out," he commanded quickly, stepping forward until his cock was casting a shadow over your face.  "Oh god, just like that… ready baby?"

You nodded one more time and heard yourself panting loudly through your open mouth, your moans only interrupted by a wince as his come spurted forward and painted your face and exposed tongue in hot stripes.  Your orgasm hit just in time, embarrassingly spurred on by the degrading position you were in.  

When he was done-- which seemed to take forever because he came so much-- he started to catch his breath before slipping his softening cock onto your come-coated tongue and into your waiting mouth.

"Mm, you look so good like this," he praised, "I'm not sure I wanna let you wipe it off."

A flesh thumb moved down to your cheek and rubbed a stray drop of spend into your skin.  

"My perfect little cum dumpster, huh?" he said proudly, as if it was an award or achievement or something, and not a sick, insulting term.

Weird thing was, you felt proud of yourself, too.

~

He’d been working outside all day, chopping firewood in preparation for the upcoming winter.  Sure, the cabin had heating, but he had a lot of ideas about cuddling in front of the fire, or maybe making love beside it.  

Regardless, even super soldiers tire and must rest after working.  He decided to head inside and heat up something warm to stave off the cold.  You were still sleeping last he’d checked, exhausted from a long night-- yes, that kind of long night.  He almost felt guilty for putting your body through so much…  you were so delicate, sometimes he forgot you couldn’t always handle what he could.  However, you were stronger than you realized, and such a perfectly obedient little girl; he smiled at the memory of your skin under his fingertips, your fragile form writhing and whimpering beneath him as he’d taken you for hours.  As he daydreamed and began to enter the kitchen, he was torn from his imagination by a sound from your room.  At first he wondered if he’d misheard it, but when he heard you cry out again, he assumed you were hurt and nearly tripped over himself to run to you.  His heart was racing and he almost considered reaching for his sidearm-- there was no way someone could’ve broken in and tried to hurt you, right?

But as he flung open the door, instead he found you alone with your hand between your legs.  You jumped up when you saw him, but it was too late.

“The fuck are you doing?!” he exclaimed, climbing onto the bed and trapping you before you could crawl backwards away from him.

“I-- I was just--”

He cut you off with a quick slap to the face.  Not to hurt you, just to get you to focus on him.

“You know you can’t touch yourself without my permission.  Did you forget?”

“No…” you murmured ashamedly.

“If you knew it was wrong, why did you do it?”

“I… I just missed you…”

“Why didn’t you call me for help?  I can’t take care of you if you don’t ask.”

“I knew you were busy, I didn’t want to bother you--”

“Show me what you did,” he growled, watching you sheepishly spread your legs again to reveal your wet pussy and swollen clit.  “Oh doll, you really did a number on yourself.  Did you come without me?”

You looked away.

“Don’t bother lying.  Did you make yourself come with your fingers?”

“Yes…” 

You were hiding something.  He almost didn’t want to know the entire truth because it was breaking his heart to know you’d disobeyed so severely, but he had to know what happened if he was going to discipline you properly.

“Was it more than once?”

You shook your head and his blood went cold upon the realization that you were hiding something worse.

“What were you thinking about?” he asked you slowly.  He could hear your breathing quickened and he was sure he might die if you said what he was afraid of.  “Answer me.”

“I was thinking about… being fucked…”

“By who?” he asked.  You opened your mouth instantly but he cut you off.  “Don’t lie.”

You spoke but it was so weak that it wasn’t even a whisper.  “What was that?” he pressed.

“Sam,” you finally relented, “it was Sam.”

He was livid, but at least it wasn’t Steve.  

“Go stand beside the bed and kneel,” he commanded firmly.  You nodded weakly and slithered out from under him to do as he asked.  

He took a deep, slow breath hoping to calm himself a little.  He had heard that you shouldn’t punish little girls when you’re angry.  But he needed to nip this in the bud.

He got off the bed and approached you after a moment, running a finger under your chin and guiding you to look up at him.

“You understand you’ve been very naughty, don’t you?” he asked with a cold fury tinting his voice.

“Yes, Daddy,” you answered.  Clearly you were trying to be extra good and dutiful, hoping that strict adherence to the rules from here on out could save you some pain.  You weren’t wrong, but he wished that you would’ve had that attitude a little sooner.

“And if I don’t teach you a lesson, that would be unfair to both of us.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed and opened his belt and fly, pulling out his cock.  He sensed that you were compelled to lean forward and take it in your mouth, but you stayed still; you knew he would tell you exactly what he wanted you to do.

As he stroked his cock to full hardness, he glared at you so intensely that you couldn’t keep his gaze, looking up briefly but always glancing back down to the floor shamefully.  

“I-I’m sorry, Da-” you began weakly.

“You’ll speak when spoken to,” he interjected harshly.  Finally, he held your jaw with one hand, the other holding his cock forward as he plunged it between your lips.  He moaned a little when you swirled your tongue over it, doing your best to coat every inch of it in wetness.

As quickly as he had pushed in, he pulled out again.  He slapped his cock on your face, smearing your own spit on your cheek.  He rubbed his tip over your lips in a circle, but when you opened up your mouth for him, instead he leaned forward and spit into your open mouth.

“Swallow it,” he demanded through his teeth, and you did though it made you shudder with disgust.

Only then did he shove his cock in again, and with brutal force as well.  He used fistfuls of your hair to pull your face up and down on his cock, ignoring your whimpers of pain.

The room was filled with the sounds of your choking and coughing, until those extended periods of silence when his cock was shoved all the way into your throat and you couldn’t even get enough air for that.  It was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard in his life.

When he pulled you off of him to look at your face, he grinned proudly.  “Doll, you look like a fuckin’ mess.”  And it was true; spit and pre-cum dribbling down your chin and onto the floor, red nose and puffy eyes from crying… truly a sight to behold.

He gave you one more slap for good measure, the fist in your hair preventing your head from spinning to the side.  

“Gonna fuckin’ come in your throat.  You’d better swallow it all, bitch.”

He could feel your whole body jerk when he said it, and it only served to make your throat even tighter around him.  

“Fuck,” he groaned, “just like that, choke on me, fuck, oh god, fuck--”

He came with a stuttered moan and the sounds of protest you tried to make were lost as cum filled your throat and mouth.  

He smiled when you swallowed quickly, determined to obey.  He wasn’t even done coming yet and you were swallowing it.  Probably a good strategy; he had been pent up for a while now and he probably could’ve filled your tiny mouth until it was leaking.

When he was sure every drop of come had been spilled and swallowed, he pulled out and gave you some reprieve.  You gasped for air loudly, coughing a few times but mostly maintaining your composure like the good little slut you were.

He watched you shift your hip uncomfortably and realized you must be quite agitated yourself.

“If you want something from me, just ask,” he encouraged.  “That’s the whole point of this, isn’t it?”

“Please fuck me,” you whimpered.

He wagged his finger disapprovingly.  “I don’t know if you deserve it.”

“Please!” you yelped, and he yanked you off the floor and into his lap quickly.

“You get so dumb when you need me,” he growled into your ear.  “So desperate that you don’t know how to think about anything else but cock.  Isn’t that right?”

You nodded with a gasp.

“You’re my dumb little baby, aren’t you?  Say it," he hissed in demand.

“I’m your dumb little baby,” you repeated breathlessly.

“Get on your hands and knees and get that ass up.”

You obeyed quickly, almost eagerly, and he grinned at your obedience.  You really needed it bad, and he was helpless but to oblige you.  As soon as he was on his knees behind you and lining up with your sopping entrance, he was shoving his cock into you all at once.

You yelped at the brutality of the intrusion; he stayed still for a moment, relishing the feeling of your warmth, before pulling back out again.

“Wh-?” you began to protest in confusion, but he was a step ahead of you.

“That was just to get my cock wet, baby.”

One metal finger slipped into your puckered hole and you yelped.  “D-daddy, not there!”

“Shhh, just relax,” he soothed.

“It’s gonna hurt,” you whined.

“That’s sort of the idea,” he explained.  “I know what you can handle, doll.”

“And I can handle this?”

“I never said that.”

And with only one more finger and a few more minutes of hasty preparation, he was pushing his cock into your tighter hole.

“Shh,” he soothed when he felt you clench around him, but still pushing forward, indifferent to your hiss of pain.  

“It hurts!” you sobbed.

“I know baby, you’re just gonna have to take it.  This wouldn’t be happening if you had just asked me to help you.”

You pouted and it was equal parts adorable and pathetic.  “I’m sorry!”

“I’ll tell you when it’s time to apologize.  Right now you just need to be quiet.  Don’t you wanna be a good little girl?”

“Y-yes.”

He started to move his cock inside you and you shivered under him.  

“Please come,” you begged weakly after a few more minutes of thrusting.

“You wanna get it over with?  Don’t like it?”

You nodded and he did feel bad for you, but he knew it was what you needed.

“I’ll come when I’m ready, doll.  Just take Daddy’s cock, ‘s all you’re good for anyways, right angel?”

You nodded and bit back another sob, blissfully unaware of his adoring gaze; you looked so cute crying for his cock.  He liked being strong enough to hurt you almost as much as he liked being strong enough to protect you.

“My perfect little crybaby,” he cooed.  “Don’t whine too much or I’ll have to stuff that filthy mouth with a paci, alright?”

He watched you bite your lip and try to stay calm.  Out of pity, he moved a little slower than he wanted to, giving you some more time to adjust.  Eventually he felt you relaxing, though you still yelped a little when he pushed in all the way.  It was hard to choose between watching your face or watching his cock stretch open your hole.

“God, you’re takin’ me so well,” he praised.  “Who knew you were such a whore, huh?”

Before you could deny it, he reached down and swiped his fingers through your folds quickly, groaning when he felt how swollen and wet they were.  “Fuck, baby, you’re drenched.  You like getting fucked up the ass; such a dirty little slut.”

“Just for you, Daddy,” you informed him with a weak voice.  He was still angry with you, of course, but he was so proud of you, too.  He could remember all those times you’d tried to run or fight, now you were just laying there and taking it like a champ-- no restraints, no threats, just the desire to be good for him.  You were everything he’d ever dreamed you could be and more.

The thought spurred his orgasm ahead sooner than he expected, but he still wanted to hold back.  You needed more to learn your lesson, and he wanted to savor this feeling as long as possible.

His fingers had been digging into the supple flesh of your hips and ass, hard enough to bruise, but you felt too warm and too soft, so he gripped the sheets instead in his attempts to stave off his rupture.

But it wasn’t much longer until the tightness of you, the heat of you, the sweetness of your sobs all became too perfect to ignore.  His cock was aching for release, and if he denied himself much more, he figured his balls would never relax from their tightened state.

“I think you’re ready to apologize now,” he groaned.

“I’m so sorry, Daddy,” you sobbed.  “I swear, I’ll never touch myself without your permission again-- and I’ll never think about anybody but you!  I only want you, I swear!”

“You sure, baby?  You don’t think Sam would treat you better?” he mocked.  Sam definitely would be nicer to you, but there was no way he could treat you better than Bucky did.  Maybe you wanted a guy who was sweeter, more traditional, but this was what you needed and only your Daddy could give that to you.

“I’m sure!  I only want you, please!  Please, please come.”

“Is that what you want, angel?  Want me to come in your tight little ass?”

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Please…?”

“Please, Daddy.”

And he came, though it was a little more physically taxing since it was the second of the night.  You whimpered a little but he could tell you were relieved it was over.

You didn’t put up any fight at bath time that night, just curled into his arms and let him wash you as you whispered more apologies.  

“Shh, it’s alright,” he soothed as he washed your hair, whispering right against your ear before giving it a little kiss.  “You did good, baby.  You made a mistake but you’re gonna learn from it and we’re gonna be better than ever.  You took your punishment so well, darling, you should be proud.”

~

Today you'd woken up to an empty house, with a note on the kitchen table:

Gone for groceries, I'll be back in the afternoon.  When I get home, greet me at the door wearing what I've laid out for you in your closet.

You figured it wasn't going to be something conservative by any means, but you were still taken aback by finding a tail, collar, and cat-ear headband.  The collar was pink leather with a tiny bell and a little heart-shaped steel tag with your name on it.  The realization that he had this custom-made sent a shiver down your back.  On the back of the tag was another engraving:

IF LOST RETURN TO BUCKY BARNES

You were a little concerned about wearing only a collar, ears and tail… especially when you realized how the tail was intended to be worn.

Still, you had become thoroughly obedient, and you trusted that this would make him happy which was all you could hope for.  You fought past your hesitation and changed out of your pajamas into the outfit (if it could even be called that when it contained no actual clothing).

He had the biggest grin on his face when he opened the door to find you on your knees just outside the entryway.

“Oh look at you, kitten,” he beamed.

Being naked on the floor was cold and awkward.  You crossed your arms to cover your chest, frowning as you tried to avoid his penetrating gaze.  “This is stupid.  I feel stupid.”

“You are stupid," he smiled.  "But you look great!  Now behave or you’ll have to eat out of a bowl on the floor until you’ve learned to love being Daddy’s pet.”

Your eyes went wide.

“You’re gonna behave, right?”

“Y-yes, Daddy.”

He smiled and curled his finger, motioning for you to come closer.  You awkwardly crawled towards him on your hands and knees, biting your lip absent-mindedly.  When you were on the floor in front of his legs, he knelt down a bit and grabbed a handful of your ass.  It made the plug inside you shift and you whimpered.

“Mm, this tail looks lovely on you,” he praised.  “And the ears… you’re a natural.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” you shyly accepted the compliment.

"I bet you got wet putting this on, huh?" he presumed.  You nodded as he moved to rub two fingers through your folds, proving himself right.

When he leaned back and pulled his cock from his jeans, you were surprised at how hard it already was.  Clearly the kitten thing was working for him.

"Go ahead kitty, I know you want a taste," he encouraged.

You leaned forward and gave, fittingly, small kitten licks to the tip of his cock and he groaned.  “Just like that, fuck.”

You hummed when you tasted his pre-cum on your tongue.  You’d gotten so accustomed to it that you actually enjoyed the flavor now.

Hesitantly, you wrapped your lips around the head and suckled on it gently.  Apparently, he didn’t care much for the slow-but-steady method; he slipped two fingers under your collar and used it to pull you down further until you choked.  

He continued to guide you forward and back, moaning every time your throat accepted the leaking head of his cock.

“You don’t want me to come in your mouth, do you?” he asked with a grunt.

You shook your head.  

He grinned knowingly, pushing you back until your mouth was empty and free to respond.  “Where do you want it?” 

“In my pussy.”

“Full sentences only, please.”

“I want you to come in my pussy, Daddy, please.”

“Hmm, you did ask very nicely,” he smiled.  “But I have something else to do first.  Go get on the couch, kitten, hands and knees.”

You almost stood up but realized he wanted you to crawl again.  As soon as you’d done it, he was behind you, humming contentedly as he ran his rough hands over your skin.  You mewled when he started to kiss along your back, down your ass and between your thighs until he was licking long stripes through your folds.  Both of you moaned when he sucked your clit into his mouth, even allowing it to graze against his teeth which nearly hurt but made you gush with wetness anyways.

"Please-- I'm close, Daddy, can I come?" you whimpered.

"Go ahead," he mumbled before returning to his work, knowing exactly how to use his tongue to take you apart in mere minutes.  Your hands grabbed desperately at the back of the couch for stability as your legs began to quiver with the force of your orgasm.  You yelped and bit down on your lip as it crashed over you; sometimes when he ate you out, he wouldn't stop after you'd came and keep going until you were begging for mercy, but he was apparently feeling generous today and stopped once you'd finished.

That, of course, did not mean he was finished with you.

He pushed his jeans down to his thighs and laid back onto the mattress, cock so hard that it was pressing into his abs.

“Come on kitten, ride me,” he grinned, motioning for you to climb on top of him.  The moment you did he was rubbing his cock against you, pushing it upwards for you to sink down onto it.  You moaned as it stretched you open, and when your hips met his, the tip of it brushed against the deepest places inside you.  You yelped and tried to move back up but he suddenly grabbed your legs and held you down.

“Nuh-uh, kitten, no running away.  You’re gonna take all of me.”

“It’s too deep,” you protested weakly, even though you felt your walls throbbing with pleasure.

“Not at all, angel; you’re made for me, so you fit me perfectly,” he explained.  “If I let you go, you’re gonna ride me properly, take my whole cock, right?”

You nodded and he eased up his grip.  You felt your legs shaking as little as you pushed yourself up only to drop back down, wincing as he filled you so completely once again.  You repeated the movement over and over, picking up pace and moaning every time.  You could feel his cock moving the plug inside your ass, and each bounce on top of him made your collar jingle a little.

You did your best to keep up the pace, but to lift yourself required use of a muscle that you clearly hadn't been getting much exercise for; it wasn't more than a few minutes before you were faltering, your moans of pleasure accented with the struggling groans of exhaustion.

"Oh kitty, are you too weak?  Too wimpy and small to ride my cock?  Baby… that's pathetic," he moped.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," you pouted.  "I'm just tired…"

"Just a little longer, kitten, just ride my cock a little more then I'll help you out, okay?  I know you can do it.  I know you can be a good girl."

You hoped he was right.  You nodded weakly as he looked at you expectantly, before slowly beginning to move again in spite of your sore thighs.

Soon, as he'd promised, he pulled you down and wrapped his arms around you, thrusting up into you.  Your moans echoed against his skin when your face was shoved into the crook of his neck.  When his cock slammed into your most sensitive spot, you bit him there as a way to stifle yourself and he slapped your ass.

“Only bad kittens bite, doll.  I thought you were going to be a good kitten for me?”

“Feels so good,” you tried to explain though it came out slurred, “please don’t stop.”

“I’m not gonna stop, baby.  Not gonna stop until that pussy is full of my come.  That what you want?”

“Yes,” you pleaded, “oh god, yes, please…”

He moaned loudly as his thrusts lost all rhythm, his cock moving so fast inside you that the sensation became one hot blur against your walls.  Finally, as he groaned and gripped you tight enough to bruise, he spilled inside you. 

As he let out a long breath and his body relaxed under you, he smiled softly.  "You really are perfect, pet."

"C-can I take off the ears now?  And the tail?"

"Hmm, not yet," he grinned, "we need to take a few pictures of you like this first."

~

He was working in the kitchen when he heard your footsteps approaching.

"Don't come in here!" he ordered you.  "Wait for me at the dining table."

"Why, Daddy?" he heard you respond from the hall.  He smiled just to hear your sweet voice.

"It's a surprise, babydoll," he explained.  "It's almost ready-- just wait, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy," you answered dutifully, your footsteps moving to the dining area as he'd requested.

Stepping back and admiring his work, he lifted it and turned out the door to deliver your surprise: a cake, with pink frosting and one pink candle.

Your eyes lit up when you saw him holding the cake stand, being careful not to tilt it or get the flame of the candle near his long hair.

He smiled and set it in front of you, looking to your face for a reaction.  Suddenly he felt self-conscious about it, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.   "Um, I made it myself.  Sorry if the decorating isn't that nice…"

"It's beautiful, Daddy, and I bet it'll taste great, too," you beamed.  "What's the occasion?"

"It's our anniversary," he replied, his voice suddenly low and dark.

He saw recognition cross your face, though you looked confused as well.  The meds he'd given you throughout the year had disrupted your memories, and probably distorted your perception of the passage of time as well, but it was all necessary to get you compliant.  He hoped reminding you of that somewhat violent first day wouldn't set back any of your progress.

"I've… been here a year?" you asked weakly.

"We've been here a year," he corrected, sitting down beside you and wrapping an arm around you, "but that's not what we're celebrating."

The hand on your shoulder slipped down to the underside of your arm, stroking it slowly.

"We're celebrating that a medication somebody gave you a long time ago, before we were together, is finally worn off," he explained slowly, a grin creeping across his face. "We're celebrating that the next time I come inside you, I'm gonna get you pregnant."

He didn't fuck you for three days after that, loving the way you were clearly on edge as you waited for him to make good on his promise.  And he didn't blame you for being nervous about it, even if you seemed to understand that any protest from you would fall on deaf ears.

So, he was quite taken aback when you came onto him one night, bedtime cuddling quickly turning into something more as you rubbed your ass against his crotch.  He hadn't even realized that you would want it all on your own.

God, you were so fucking perfect he couldn't stand it.

"What are you doing, angel?" he asked you with a growl as he grabbed your hips and forced them to still.

"Nothing, Daddy," you answered coyly.  He grinned and nipped at your earlobe.

"Are you horny, babygirl?  Because you're acting like a whore."

You nodded and gasped, shivering under his touch.

"Want Daddy's cock inside you?" he pressed, voice getting darker.

"Yes, please!" you begged.

He sat up and flipped you onto your back, caging you in with his arms as he hovered above you.

“You wanna have my baby?” he asked in a husky whisper.

“Yes,” you nodded your head quickly.

“Want me to knock you up, doll?  Right now?”

“Please,” you whimpered.

He leaned down, almost close enough to kiss you, as his gaze wandered over your face  “I don’t want it to be like the other times.  None of the crazy shit, nothing rough.  If I’m gonna get you pregnant--”

“Whatever you want,” you pleaded.

He kissed you suddenly, deep and slow.  “I love you,” he told you quickly as he pulled back, breathless but confident.  

“I love you too,” you answered without even questioning it.

He was gentle, and thorough, and patient.  It was love-making in a way that was out of character for him.  He lifted your legs to wrap around his hips, pushing into you as deep as he could but with a contemplative slowness; he cradled your face in his hands and kissed all over it as he praised you in whispers.

My pretty girl, my perfect little girl, gonna fill you up, gonna make you mine.

You were only moans and sobs, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer.  

The first time you came was unexpected, building slowly but crashing into you all at once, judging by the way you went from softly whimpering to nearly screaming in seconds.  The second was quieter, more subtle, but he could tell by the way your walls tightened around him.  The third left you in tears, beyond overstimulated and broken down into a babbling mess.

“Please,” you cried, “please I need you to come-- come inside me.”

He struggled to resist that offer, but he didn't want it to be over too quickly.

“Soon,” he promised, “I’m close.  You feel so good.”

You wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him close for a kiss but stopping as his mouth brushed against yours.

“Please, Bucky… please come…” you whispered.

He moaned, his thrusts getting a little more erratic.

“Need it so bad,” you whimpered, “need you to put your baby in me--”

“Fuck,” he hissed, “‘m gonna, promise.”

“Now,” you demanded through your teeth, “I need it now.”

“Not until you come one more time,” he responded.  You whined and he knew you were questioning whether it was possible.  “I know you can, just gimme one more.”

His angle shifted and he stayed deep within you, grinding his hips on yours just the right way to rub your clit with his pubic bone.  Your back arched but he held you close, barraging you with the sensation and pressing his forehead to yours.

Your hands gripped his shoulders for dear life, as if you were afraid to fall.  He smiled and kissed your neck, feeling your walls flutter around him once again.

“That’s it,” he praised, “I know you’re close.  Just let go.  I’ve got you.”

Tears streamed down your face as it tore through you, hitting you so hard that instead of moans it was just silence.  He watched your face intently, breathing through his teeth as he summoned all his willpower to hold on just a little longer.  

"Daddy!" you yelped, and he couldn't take any more: with a high-pitched, stuttered moan, he felt his cock flexed as he came harder than maybe he ever had before.  Knowing that you were fertile made it all so much more intense.  Normally, his orgasm just meant the end of sex-- maybe just for a few minutes on a good day.  But now?  Now it was the beginning of something.  His perfect little angel was going to finally fulfill her final purpose and give him a baby.  He'd waited so long, dreamed of it every day for years, and finally it was going to happen.  

He refused to pull out or let you move until he was sure it would take; he killed the time by kissing every part of your face and neck that he could reach.

He hadn't even gotten you pregnant yet, technically, and he already couldn't wait for more children.  He'd always wanted to have a big family, but he gave up on that dream years ago; meeting you had brought it all back, and made him realize that all this time he'd just been waiting for the perfect wife to start it with.

You were well worth the wait.

[bunnykawa]

what are you doing, step bro? (sakusa x f. reader)

summary: To your parents, Sakusa was the greatest son. To you, he was the best big brother you could’ve ever asked for, but you could only find that out with a little force.

a/n: i literally just started college so i won't have much time to write but i have some stories in my drafts that'll be posted in awhile lol. should i open requests for haikyuu drabbles since they're short but still entertaining?? idek i feel like no one is reading this rn LOL but if anyone is reading this, lmk ;)

(edit: I HAD TO REPOST THIS CS IT WASNT SHOWING UP IN TAGS so sorry if you already liked this post)

warnings: 18+, incest, mentions of drugging,  mentions of somnophilia, mentions of parental neglect, noncon/dubcon/rape, sakusa is a dirty pervert i just don’t know how else to tag this, degradation, slight manipulation

"(Y/N), this is your new big brother, Kiyoomi," your mother said, holding tightly onto your small shoulders as you stood in front of her.

"You can refer to him as your nii-san from now on." Locking eyes with you was an older boy with long black wavy hair, two moles on the right side of his forehead, and a white face mask on the lower half of his face which blocked his nose and mouth. How odd, you thought. You could tell he was disinterested with how his eyes were blank as he stared at you.

That was the first time meeting your step brother, Sakusa Kiyoomi.

Being four years younger than Sakusa, you two never really got along. Of course you had to respect each other, but there was nothing to really talk about other than when his volleyball games were or unfulfilling small talks. Sometimes he would make snide remarks, asking if you even showered when your hair was only slightly messy or if a smart word ever came out of your mouth when you stumbled over your words. Sometimes he was just mean to you in general to the point where you would cry. You always tried to ignore it, though. That was when you were younger. You couldn’t help that you weren’t that smart and he was your nii-san after all. Your parents would brush it off.

You celebrated his victories together, only because you had to. I mean, you were the younger sister of one of the nation's top three aces in high school volleyball. There was no way your parents wouldn't celebrate. He was their pride and joy.

Smart, athletic, incredibly attractive — everything you felt like you could never live up to.

Your own biological mom so obviously and painfully liked him more than you.

Before you even entered high school, Sakusa was old enough to move out and go to college where he continued to play volleyball. When he visited during the holidays, you still wouldn't have decent conversations with him. He would still insult you. It even made you cringe when you had to call him nii-san. Why address him as your older brother when he didn't even act like it?

But you dealt with it because you had to.

Fresh out of Itachiyama Academy, you're focused on studying for entrance exams for colleges in your area rather than what would happen if you ever had to see Sakusa again. But, you were expecting to see him very soon.

Gentle knocks are heard from outside your door and before you can respond, your mom is already opening it.

"(Y/N), Omi is coming today and he's gonna be here for a week. I have to go to the grocery store to buy food and I'm gonna run other errands so it's gonna take awhile," she says, leaning her head into your room. You respond multiple times with "okay" so she can leave your room sooner.

Textbooks and notebooks are strewn across your bed with you on your stomach, trying to cram as much information in your head as possible.

"That means I might not be here in time for when he comes, so you have to open the door and greet him," she adds.

"What about dad?" you ask with a grimace. The most you would do is say hello and scurry back into your room.

She rolls her eyes at you. "He's working late again. You know that, (Y/N)." With a sigh, you agree and she finally leaves your room after bidding you a "goodbye."

You can't remember the last time you saw Sakusa, but it was probably almost half a year ago. Ever since he left for college, your parents were even more distant towards you. They probably felt like they didn't need to worry about you because you weren't doing anything important.

When Sakusa came over, he barely acknowledged you and you were okay with that because it meant he wouldn't be bothering you.

But that didn't mean his blank stare wouldn't catch your attention whenever you came out of your room to eat or use the restroom. The atmosphere felt...very odd around him. You couldn't necessarily come up with a reason why.

Suddenly, you hear knocking on the front door. It had to be at least an hour or two since your mom left and the thought of who was waiting at the door made your stomach churn.

"Nii-san is here," you mutter to yourself as you got up to open the door. Right as you open the door, Sakusa was staring down at you with the same blankness in his eyes from before with his usual face mask. His hair was shorter than you remember.

Mindlessly, his eyes seem to scan your body before returning to your face, making you feel self-conscious. You were only wearing black spandex shorts and a loose tank top. Subconsciously, you rub your arm and step back to make space.

"(Y/N)," Sakusa acknowledges you in a deadpan voice. It's no surprise to you.

"Hi, onii-san. How are you?" You try so hard to be polite, but Sakusa seemed to have a naturally dominant energy that overwhelmed your senses, even if he also seemed to have the personality of a jar of mayonnaise. You step aside so he can come in. He wore gray sweatpants and a black windbreaker that was zipped up all the way. As soon as he makes it inside, he removes his face mask, stuffs it in his pocket, and starts unzipping his jacket.

"I'm good," he hums, "Where's mom?" He places the backpack he was carrying on the couch and takes a seat as you close the door.

"She's out doing errands and dad is working. Do you want some tea?"

"Yes, please. Make sure you wash your hands before you do. Thank you," he said. You walk into the kitchen, muttering "germaphobe" under your breath at his extra request. Unbeknownst to you, he watched you from his place on the couch as you walked around the kitchen, pulling the tea kettle out of one of the bottom cabinets and looking for cups. His gaze followed the outline of your ass in those tiny shorts that hugged your bottom tightly.

"What college are you planning on going to, (Y/N)?"

"I'm not sure yet, but I'm applying to the college you're going to and three others," you replied from your spot near the counter.

Sakusa actually perks up at your answer. "Oh, cool. You'll love it there if you get in. Only if, though. You're not the brightest."

You couldn't help but let your face fall in a frown at his seemingly small comment. Quickly, you compose yourself and brush off his remark. You got the water boiling in the tea kettle and reached high for the teacups that were sitting on the top cabinets. Your stepdad definitely put them up there.

A presence looms close behind you, which makes your whole body automatically freeze and tense up. A veiny, bulky arm reaches up easily to grab the teacups while another one snakes around you to pull your tank top down as it was exposing your stomach. You're not sure if you're imagining it, but you definitely feel something stiff brushing up against your back.

"You need to be careful. Don't wanna hurt yourself, do you?" Sakusa commented, leaning forward so his mouth was right next to your ear. A blush found its way onto your cheeks from feeling him so close to you.

He usually hated being so close to people. What was so different today?

"R-right," you stuttered, "Thank you, nii-san."

Confrontation wasn't a strong trait of yours.

You guess that moment was when it started getting really weird between you two. You still had small talks from whenever he would actually see you come out of your room, but you wanted to avoid him as much as you could. However, that was hard when Sakusa insisted that you drank tea together every night and, of course, your parents insisted, too.

Your nii-san wants to spend more time with you, they would say excitedly. Better late than never!

Maybe if he was showing the slightest bit of interest in you, your parents would finally care about you. So, with much hesitation, you started drinking tea with your step brother every night. Sakusa even made the tea himself so his poor little sister wouldn't tire herself out with carrying that heavy teapot.

You're still not sure if you're imagining things, but the tea tasted different from how you made it. And you swear that the tea didn't make you so sleepy after drinking it until he started making it.

"Come here," Sakusa would say with a smirk, "Onii-san will take you to bed."

You would pass out before you even made it to bed, but every morning you woke up with sticky thighs, only blaming it on sweating while you were sleeping.

Until one day, you didn't drink all the tea that he made you. You still fell asleep, though. Your brain was hazy enough to make you lose consciousness as he helped you up from your seat in the kitchen.

Sakusa laid next to you on your bed. You were placed on your side so he could slide under the sheets right behind you to press his hardened length against your ass. This was his favorite part of the night. He spent a few minutes playing with your cunt to make it slick enough for him to let his cock break through your walls.

You barely stirred awake. Didn't even move an inch as he caressed every part of your body, from your soft nipples to the sensitive nub between your thighs.

He pushed the elastic of his sweatpants down to his thighs quickly. His cock hit your ass before settling between your folds. A satisfied moan leaves his lips when he feels your wetness coating the top part of his shaft as he rubbed it against you. He hooked his arm around one of your legs so that you were spread open enough for him to fuck you and rub your clit at the same time with his other hand.

He wanted that sweet nectar completely coating his dick. He remembers the way you tasted and how you came on his tongue the night before, despite being blacked out from the little pills he would dissolve in your drinks. You tasted so clean and smelled so fresh. It was impossible for your nii-san to control himself around you.

And when did your ass look so good? God...Sakusa couldn't believe he never noticed how cute and well-shaped you were. You weren't that little girl he met when you were both kids. You were pushing adulthood now. Still pathetic looking, still too shy, still small around him, but fuck, he definitely would have pushed you over the counter the first day he came over and fucked you until you were crying and gagging.

He continued rubbing circles onto your clit and letting his cock soak up your juices. Gently, he positions the tip at your entrances and pushes in slowly.

"There you go," he whispers in your ear, "I know it's a little big. Don't worry."

He manages to fill you up all the way, making him groan. Your walls were tight around him. He thrusts in and out of you carefully, salvaging the feeling of your slick interior.

But you didn't drink all the tea, which means that you could wake up earlier than he expected.

Sakusa didn't expect you to wake up now.

You stirred slightly as you regained consciousness. Although your eyelids were heavy, you tried to force them open only to be met with darkness.

"Mmm," you croaked, rubbing your eyes. The odd feeling of being filled up suddenly made you wake up more. "W-what's going on?"

"Fuck," Sakusa muttered from behind you. You felt a hard chest pressed against your back and...a hand on your pussy. No, something inside your pussy. And that voice was so familiar.

You quickly whip your head around when the realization dawns on you. What the fuck is happening? While your eyes adjust to the dark room, you see two familiar eyes staring straight back at you. He stopped grinding his hips against you for a moment as if time stopped.

"...Nii-san?" you hesitated. His breathing was heavy and he stayed silent.

"Nii-san, what are you doing?" you asked in a panicked voice. You quickly tried to get up from your position, only to be held down by Sakusa’s muscular arms. His hand wrapped itself over your lips to prevent you from screaming.

“Be a good girl and stay quiet, (Y/N),” he whispered. A muffled scream tries to escape your lips. He continued to fuck you slowly, leaving a burning feeling in your walls. The same sore feeling that you would sometimes wake up to within the past few days.

For a moment, you pry his fingers off of your mouth. "I don't understand...Why are you...?" You yelped in surprise, horror, and pleasure as he delivered a sharp thrust from behind you. The smack of his hips against your bare ass made you cringe and feel so disgusted with yourself. Nii-san is actually inside me.

"My poor little sister," he chucked darkly. He suddenly wraps his arm around your knee tighter and forces your legs wide open, your knee almost touching your chest. Instead of putting his hand over your mouth to shut you up, he kneads your breast. His hands were so large.

"You think you can walk around the house looking like a little slut in those tiny shorts?" He stretches you open with his hard cock with slow, yet hard, thrusts. It left your mouth agape, but no sounds left your throat except for small squeaks that you couldn't hold back. "You stupid bitch. Just as dumb as I could remember. Fuck, you don't know how much I wanted to bend you over and fill you up with my cum like the stupid, desperate slut you are."

He was satisfied as you were barely fighting him. All you did was desperately search for something to hold onto and bite your lip because you were so scared. His words were painful. "Look at you. A waste of fucking space, only good as a fuck hole. Didn't even realize she was getting drugged and getting fucked every night because she's so fucking stupid."

Weak. That was all your brain was telling you, mocking you, as Sakusa didn't stop moving against you and insulting you. This wasn't the first time. It just so happened that this time you were able to wake up.

"I-I..." you stuttered, "I'll...I'll tell mom and dad." The sheets were gripped tightly between your fingers. "I'll tell them- mmmm...what nii-san has been doing to me..."

"If you tell mom and dad, they wouldn't even care," Sakusa said in a patronizing tone. The way his hand was caressing you made you wanna cry.

“They would!”

"Mom and dad don't even treat you like a daughter, (Y/N). When was the last time they told you they loved you?" Even if his question was rhetorical, your mind went completely blank. You can't recall a moment where they ever told you they loved you.

"B-but, this isn't right! You're not supposed to be doing this," you argued. It was a surprise that your mind wasn't completely clouded by how big his cock was and how his thrusts felt almost hateful.

"You think they would choose your side? You'd be ruining your own life. Maybe you'd ruin mine. And it'd be. All. Your. Fault." With each syllable, his movements became sharper. "You don't wanna betray your nii-san by saying something, do you?"

"You love your nii-san, right?"

You do. You love him so much, even if you tried to avoid him and he never said a single good thing to you in your whole damn life.

Because you have to love him.

You stopped gripping on the sheets to the point where your knuckles were turning ghostly white to brush away the tears rolling down your cheeks. Your body shook, from both crying because of Sakusa's painful words and how hard he was fucking you. The pleasure building up in your core was overwhelming you, making that intense feeling of having to pee forced out of you.

Hearing your sniffles and small cries, Sakusa pulls you even tighter against him, but doesn't stop his relentless thrusting. It turned him on even more. He pushes your hand to brush away your tears for you, like good big brothers should.

"It's okay, (Y/N). We both know mom and dad don't love you."

A loud cry erupted from your chest. Maybe if your parents cared about you, they'd be running to your room to save you the second you started crying. But, no. Sakusa was basking in the fact that you were hurting on the inside. After years of negligent silence, you were finally letting it all out.

"But nii-san loves you," he said with a smile.

Although his words seemed to stun your entire being, you manage to choke out a "What?" Like it was the first time someone ever told you that they love you.

His torturous thrusts almost distracted you. Fuck, why did it feel so good to have your step brother fucking you on your side like this?

"I love you." He sweetly grabs your face so you can turn your head to look at him. There was a pounding in your ears coming straight from your chest. A warm feeling spreads throughout your stomach.

"You...you love me, nii-san?"

"Of course I do." He was actually smiling at you, "If I didn't, would I be inside you right now?"

His face didn't seem so blank anymore. Sakusa never ever smiled at you. Hell, he never really smiled in general. Someone actually loved you. Holy shit. And he was even pounding away at your insides like you were a fuck doll.

Is that why he's so mean? Was he just trying to hide his feelings for you this whole time? You could die laughing right now. His cock felt so damn good rearranging your guts against your will yet you were struggling to accept it.

Your cheeks naturally puffed up in happiness as you smiled so brightly at him. The flip switched in your brain so easily. Without another word, Sakusa kissed you passionately, because he knew you would let him continue to ravage your body. Your hips began to buck from the pressure building up in your lower half and you starting pushing your hips towards him, welcoming his length inside you. It felt like you needed more of him. More of his love.

Love me.

"Nii-san," you gasped against his lips. His movements never faltered, which you figured was from his amazing athletic ability and stamina.

"Be a good little sister and cum on my cock," he coaxed. He could tell you were so close to cumming from how tightly your precious cunt was hugging his length and how you were squirming against him. You were both slick with sweat. As you started squirming more violently against him, Sakusa tightened his grip on you.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whined desperately, “Nii-san, I’m gonna cum!” You grabbed his arms and pushed your fingernails into his skin, making him hiss from the sudden pain. With a firm grip over your mouth, he muffles your screams. Satisfaction settled in your stomach as you exploded all over his cock. Your sweet juices trailed down your thighs onto the bedsheets.

As much as Sakusa wanted to, he couldn’t fill up your insides and see your hole dripping with his cum just yet. He quickly pulls out of you and lets his seed shoot onto the bare skin of your ass. The shock of your orgasm left your thighs trembling, your skin wet, and your eyes drooping.

“You’re the best little sister.”

You would’ve replied, but you could barely form any words as you lost consciousness again. When you woke up the next morning, you were fully dressed and cleaned up, with no stickiness between your thighs like how you used to wake up.

Sakusa actually cleaned you up this time. You felt your heart melt and butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Everything seemed to go back to normal between you two, with the same small talks and not really seeing each other often, but he always had a knowing smirk on his face whenever he saw you.

Whenever his eyes would trail up your body to meet yours, you could feel a warmth in your stomach spread all throughout your body which forced you to look away quickly. Whenever he insulted you, you would feel your thighs press together. Whenever you caught yourself admiring his features when he replaced his face mask for a new one, you smiled softly to yourself.

When it was time for him to leave, you couldn’t help but let a few tears shed. He was all set to go, with his backpack on and his mask covering his face.

“Hey, don’t cry, (Y/N),” he cooed, wiping your tears away, “You know I won’t be gone forever.”

You sniffled, “I know. I just hate being here alone.” Well, not necessarily alone. You just hated being ignored and neglected just because you weren’t your brother.

“If you manage to get into my college, you can move in with me. How does that sound?” You instantly perk up and dry your tears with your shirt.

"Really?!” you asked with excitement. You imagine all the things you could do with your nii-san without your parents in the picture. You could go out together, hold hands, share kisses, just about anything. He could even fuck you whenever he wants.

These thoughts about your own step brother would've made you feel sick before.

But that was before you knew Sakusa loved you. Now, you couldn't help but ask your mom when the next time your nii-san would be coming to visit. While you were waiting for his next visit, you studied hard.

College would be so much fun with your nii-san with you!

Part 2

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Can you give pointers on how to write smut properly?

The Ultimate Guide to Writing Smut Fic is a great resource! I’ll try giving some of my own, too, tho!

#1 Tip: The key to writing smut is be yourself & have fun!

OK, that’s a joke, but it’s true. Write smut that you enjoy. If you are turned on by what you’re writing, it’s good. Smut is tricky because everyone has different preferences. 

For example, some people will hate Dom/sub, while others go out of their way looking for it. Stuff like dubcon, noncon, omorashi, etc. will be more divisive, but even vanilla blowjobs will turn some readers off. So just accept that you can’t please everyone and write for yourself! 

Word Choice

Do you call a penis: a cock? shaft? manhood? member? What about lady parts? Some readers will click that back button the minute they see “pussy,” while others won’t read smut that uses any other term. 

Some word choices are safer than others. Generally speaking, no one enjoys clinical terms like “penis” or “vagina.” And no one objects to “him” or “her” (i.e. “He entered her”). 

If in doubt, the vaguer you are, the less likely it is to turn someone off. I am fond of overusing “warmth” and “heat” for everything (i.e. “He entered her warm depths”). Plus, what is a “heat” anyway? When I write gender-neutral smut, the POV character is always getting their heat or sex stroked, and their entrance penetrated. Vague terms are quite useful! 

Here’s a little “smut thesaurus” I made of terms I use or at least don’t find objectionable. Again, you never know what someone might find cringey, and some of them I consider borderline, but there’s nothing on the list that’s universally seen as bad. Like “orbs” for eyes. 

Filthiness level

Not all porn is as porny as other porn! Take for example, the same blowjob:

She took him in her mouth, bobbing up and down in his lap. 

Or... 

Her lips parted around his thick, veiny cock, tasting the salt of his precum on her tongue. Sliding down his shaft until her nose was buried in his dark hairs and his crown struck the back of her throat, she... etc!! 

If you’re not sure how to start, it’s OK to do lighter smut that doesn’t get quite so explicit! A lot of people prefer smut that’s more focused on the emotions and less on the graphic details. I definitely started out writing cleaner smut.  

Your word choices will also affect the filthiness/tone of a fic. Not everyone wants cocks and cunts everywhere! I’d recommend saving your naughtiest words for your naughtiest, most graphic fics, and fluffier language for fluffier, cleaner fics. 

Inspiration!

If you can’t just churn out sexy scenarios on demand...

Read other smutfics/romance novels. I have a whole “smut thesaurus” google doc that I add to every time I see some phrasing that I like. Do not plagiarize entire sentences word for word. But when I see my favorite author use “laving” I’m like... yes. That is a good word for licking. Let me add that to my list of licking words. 

Fantasize. Not to get TMI but if you’re stuck on a smut scene... you know. Consider getting the ol’ vibrator out. Or have sex with someone if that’s an option. Cuddle a pillow. Stop stressing over the keyboard and just imagine what would feel good. THEN WRITE IT DOWN SUPER QUICK BEFORE YOU FORGET. I’m always taking notes on my phone. 

Porn. Just. Straight-up watch some porn. You’re still responsible for the emotional component, but you’re allowed to steal all of the physical acts from a porn video if you want. 

Don’t forget the emotions!!! 

Character development and a strong emotional basis are what separates smut fic from porn. The physical act of two people mashing their body parts together in different configurations loses its interest after awhile. For me anyway. I need a STORY! 

Why are they having sex? How do they feel about the sex they’re having? Tell me how the sex is an expression of how much they care about each other! Or show me how their sexual connection is what makes them start to fall in love! Show me they’re afraid they’re not good enough, but the way their lover moans their name fills them with such a warm, trembling feeling! Tell me how reassured they are when their partner holds their hand! Or how safe they feel with their solid weight pressing them down into the mattress. Or how wild and arousing it is to be with such a fiendish villain! How powerful it feels to have an arrogant, wealthy man begging for you on his knees! How all your insecurity slips away when you give up all control to a trusted partner. How amazing it feels to be that partner, and be trusted. Slow, comforting “you had a bad day and I’m taking care of you” sex where they comb their fingers through your hair. Awkward first times! 

There are so many different feelings to be explored with sex! 

(Ex. Trope-and-Tales devastated me with a smut scene where the arrogant jerk guy desperately wanted affection and kept trying to have sensual, loving sex, but she was angry at him and wanted rough hate-sex, and it was disappointing for both of them and heartbreaking. I’m still not over it. I’ll never be over it. So, you know. Kudos to what you can convey with sex.)

So really, if you put the emotions front and center, you can’t go wrong. Smut is like any other part of writing... just with more body parts mashing together.

[schnedoop]

Servitude (Kaeya x Reader)

SUMMARY: You were just so sweet, so diligent, so noble. Too noble, if Kaeya’s honest. He’s glad that he was the first one to take advantage of it.

WARNINGS: dubcon/noncon

TAGS: cockwarming, PIV penetration, manipulation, abuse of power, asshole Kaeya

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

Kaeya can’t help but think that you would have made an amazing knight.

You were born with all the qualities needed for the job: a quick wit, a reassuring demeanor, a natural respect for the Anemo Archon, and a blinding devotion to serving the people of Mondstadt to top it all off. Inside you seemed to be a fierce combination of Diluc, Jean, Varka—and Kaeya can’t deny that, in your early training days, he sometimes saw himself in your unfailing persistence—and you seemed to carry everyone's best traits only, all weaknesses of character cast to the side.

Yes, the man muses, continuing to write his report. An amazing knight indeed. 

He still remembers how popular you were during your training years. Captains and soldiers alike stepped away from their taverns to spend their free time watching you, someone they all imagined to be the future of the Ordo, the next grandmaster, someone even Jean couldn’t hide her favoritism for.

Kaeya can’t say he blames any of them. He was always among the spectators, of course, watching you train, eavesdropping on your conversations in the mess hall, taking stalker-like measures to decode the enigma that was you.

In the beginning, it was out of wariness.

Kaeya was disinclined to believe that anyone could be so perfect, so pure. He assumed that you were putting up a facade, that the way you always took the long way home to help any citizens who crossed your path was nothing but a vicious scheme to gain Mondstadt’s trust so you could betray it—but soon, he learned that it wasn’t a lie. That you truly were this good a person. That your blinding naivety was natural, and not even a little feigned.

That was around when Kaeya began to watch over you, not as a potential threat, but as a subject of interest.

He found that everything about you was sincere. That you were one of the only knights who wouldn’t lie about their numbers for the bi-annual physical evaluations, who would spend their free time scouting out hillichurl camps and anonymously reporting them, who would wake up early to get extra training in, who would do anything and everything you could think of to better equip you to serve Mondstadt.

Kaeya found it endearing. You were so sweet, so diligent, so noble.

Too noble, if Kaeya’s honest. 

He’s glad that he was the first one to take advantage of it.

It started off with a casual comment during training. Your instructor was on bedrest after getting ambushed by some Electro slimes while swimming in a lake, so Kaeya had been asked to fill in. He paced down the line of your fellow soldiers-in-training slowly, offering loud compliments and gentle corrections to everyone he walked past, only for him to come to a halt at you.

“Come on, I’m sure you can do better than that. Training is no joke, cadet. Please take this seriously.”

You practically froze when he said that to you. 

His words were whispered, hushed low into your ear as if Kaeya didn’t want to embarrass you by chastizing you publicly, as if Kaeya was still the amicable Cavalry Captain everyone knew him to be, as if his criticism of you was genuine and wasn’t a stupid lie to make you question yourself.

It took all of Kaeya’s self-restraint to keep his expression neutral as he moved on. No doubt, it was the first time anyone had ever spoken to you as if you were failing to meet expectations instead of surpassing them—and Kaeya half-expected you to protest, to argue that you were doing a better job than everyone else in the room. 

He was pleasantly surprised when you mumbled an even more determined “Yes sir,” before continuing. 

A perfect soldier indeed. 

After that, you seemed determined to impress Kaeya. He could see the hierarchy in your mind: the fact that, although Jean was higher in authority, her praise meant less to you than Kaeya’s because he was the only one to not be impressed.

After you set your sights on impressing him, it was all over for you.

Crushing your spirit was an easy feat for Kaeya. You were a brilliant soldier, probably the strongest recruit the Ordo has had since Diluc, but you were nothing exceptional when it came to mind games. The occasional “do you need a break, cadet?” and the more often “there’s no shame in admitting weakness, solder” began to wear into you. Whereas before you responded to his every criticism with a fierce determination to do better, Kaeya could sense the change when you began to think your efforts futile, when you began to feel like the Cavalry Captain you so wanted to impress would, seemingly, never find you as exceptional as everyone else did. 

Kaeya still remembers the devastated look on your face when you barged into his office at midnight on the eve of your official recruitment into the Ordo.

“What do I have to do?!” you blurted, hands balled in fists. “What do I have to do to make you think I deserve to be a knight?!”

Kaeya recalls how surprised he’d been at that. He stared at you, that night, with genuine shock at your outburst. 

Before, he assumed that your attempts to impress him had merely been out of a selfish desire to earn the praise of everyone around you. Yet, there you stood, cute little tears building in your eyes as you revealed that the true reason was that you felt bad joining the knights without his approval, as if Kaeya was some benchmark that you needed to pass.

Very well, the knight remembers thinking. With your official graduation from soldier-in-training to soldier, Kaeya had been prepared to release the possessive grip he had around you...but when you presented him with such an obvious opportunity to take what he wanted, who was he to resist?

“It’s not anything you can change, cadet. Some people are meant to be soldiers. Some people aren’t. I already know which kind you are, but it doesn’t matter.” 

Every word Kaeya said had been carefully placed. He phrased his response in a perfect way, all to prompt the inevitable question from your soft, sweet lips:

“A-and which kind am I?”

“Which kind of what?” Kaeya asked, pretending as if he was barely giving this conversation any thought. He brought his eyes down to the map that he was detailing, pretending to continue working on it. 

“Wh-which kind of knight do you think I am?”

Kaeya remembers how hard it had been to stop a vicious smile from spreading across his face.

“You don’t want to know, cadet.”

“I do, Captain! I really do! Y-your opinion matters to me!”

“Oh?” That had been the first time Kaeya placed his quill down. “So if I tell you that I don’t think you’re ready to be a knight, you’ll heed my advice?”

“Well…” 

Your sheepish expression had been almost too much to bear. 

“If you came here to ask for my opinion just to ignore it, I’d advise going elsewhere. Please don't waste my time. The Ordo will spend enough resources trying to turn you into a half-decent knight, so don’t disregard all of that by—”

“Why?” you practically sobbed. You’d come forward and placed your palms flat against the surface of Kaeya’s desk, a pose that would have been wholly intimidating if not for the tears building in your eyes. “Why don’t you think I’ll make a good knight? Why won’t I—” you’d broken off to wipe away the tears that had begun to spill. “Why won’t I be able to help the Knights of Favonius?”

Instantly, Kaeya had risen and walked over you to wrap you in his arms. 

You were confused, no doubt, because the captain had been anything but kind to you in your previous interactions, but you openly sobbed into Kaeya’s chest, gripping the fabric of his jacket weakly. 

“I j-just want to help—I just want to m-m-make Mondstadt safer—I j-just—just want—”

“Of course you can help,” Kaeya whispered gently into your ear, wiping your tears away. “You’d be an invaluable resource to the city. It’s just that serving as a knight would be useless when you could be so much more useful.”

That stole your attention.

Instantly, you looked up at Kaeya with hopeful eyes.

“R-really? You think I can...actually help?”

Kaeya remembers how even he had been unable to stop the cruel smile from spreading across his face when he realized that you genuinely believed his words all this time: thinking yourself lesser, weaker, inferior to your fellow cadets. 

“Of course you can,” Kaeya whispered into your ear, gentle as the setting sun. 

And in this way, he managed to persuade you in a single night to abandon your dreams of becoming a soldier. Easily, he made you understand that such a thing was futile. Soldiers were expendable, and when Kaeya asked you if you thought you were expendable, you shook your head like a good girl and said you wanted to be alive to protect Mondstadt, not a dead body that could do nothing.

Still, you would have made an amazing knight. 

Would have, but not anymore.

You were born with all the qualities you needed for the job—but one by one, Kaeya’s replaced them with smarter, more reasonable goals. Your once-quick wit has been refocused on pleasing Kaeya, on figuring out whether he’d rather hear “yes, sir” or “thank you, sir” based on the question he poses you with. The calm, reassuring demeanor that once drew people into you is now nonexistent, completely replaced with something more obedient. The respect you used to allot the Anemo Archon has been redirected onto Kaeya: because what has Barbatos actually done for you? Kaeya is the one who’s given you a home, a purpose—it’s him that you pray to every day when you get on your knees.

The one thing that has remained constant is the devotion you carry for the people of Mondstadt: but that, too, has shifted.

Where you once wished to serve your people by protecting them on the front lines, you now understand that your purpose is to personally aid the superiors who already know how to do the job, to make Kaeya happier so that he can protect the nation for you. 

It was hard, at first.

But your mind is pliant, now, moldable and malleable as Kaeya wraps a hand around your naked hip to halt your grinding.

“Now, now,” he chides, kissing your shoulder as he continues to write his report. “None of that. I’ll fuck you nice and good after I’m done with this, so don’t distract me.”

“But—but sir,” you whine, wriggling your hips gently on top of Kaeya as if hoping that it’ll convince him to forgo the report and fuck you now. 

Internally, Kaeya appreciates how well you’ve acclimated to your new life. Externally, he clicks his tongue and lays a slap against your bare bottom, ignoring your delighted giggle.

“Be a good girl and let me focus. These are important documents, okay? You being here only helps me work if you’re not trying to distract me. Or do you not want to help Mondstadt out after all?”

That line always works, and you instinctively coil in on yourself, ashamed as you halt your playful teasing and rest your head on Kaeya’s shoulder. 

“I—I want to help Mondstadt…”

“I thought so. So be a good girl and keep my cock warm until I’m done.”

And you do a good job of it. Oh, you do such a good job, your little cunt clenching down on Kaeya the whole time as he proofreads his report once, then twice (and then thrice, though that’s more to torture you than it is to actually check for mistakes)—and when Kaeya finally tucks his report inside an envelope, sealing it with the crest of the Cavalry Captain, he knows you deserve a reward.

“Good girl,” he coos, slipping his gloves off to massage the soft flesh of your ass with his bare hands. “How did that feel? What do you want me to do to you?”

“Felt good,” you whisper, and Kaeya loves the shudder that runs down your spine when he drags a finger to circle at your clit. “P-please, Sir. Want more. I-if you have time. If you're busy with your captain duties...I can w-wait. But if not. Please.”

So cute, Kaeya thinks, loving how even now, months after you’ve been isolated from the world, you still cling to the naive hope that somehow, being Kaeya’s private slut is contributing to the prosperity of Mondstadt. Not that it’s something Kaeya will ever correct. He can keep you here for as long as you believe you want to be here, so he won’t do anything to jeopardize your innocent naivety. 

“Hmm, you’re going to be more specific than that, sweetheart. What do you want more of?”

“You, Sir,” you gasp, rolling your hips down on Kaeya’s cock to enunciate your point. “Wanna get fucked. Pretty please.”

“Oh?” Kaeya chuckles, lifting you up and laying you down on his desk, not caring about the paperwork your body is sprawled over because goddamn, you look hot like this, tits exposed, face flushed, pupils dilated, like the only thing you can think about is Kaeya’s cock and how bad you want it.

“You don’t want anything else?”

Normally, this is the part where you deliver a mumble about Mondstadt and how you want prosperity for the nation. Those comments have been getting more and more halfhearted recently, overshadowed by your larger desire for the overwhelming pleasure that Kaeya, and today—

Today, you forget about your so-called love for Mondstadt altogether.

“No,” you babble, wrapping your legs around Kaeya’s hips, desperately trying to tempt him into fucking into you. “No, Sir, don’t want anything but you so please, please, please—”

A breathy laugh falls from Kaeya’s lips as he leans over to press a quick kiss to your forehead. 

“Of course, sweetheart.” His hands find your hips, slender fingers digging in to grip them with bruising force as he prepares to wreck you from the inside. “I’ll always give you what you want.”

[harryspet]

a long way down [1] b.barnes & s.rogers

[Warnings] dark bucky x reader, dark steve x reader, dominant/submissive, thoughts of suicide, lots of violence, death, heavy angst, zombies, the walking dead au, noncon/dubcon sex, light bondage (handcuffs), reader is a little (very) helpless, spanking, breeding kink (wear protection please)

A/N: This is for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​ ‘s title prompt game!! As you can see, my title was “a long way down”. This gave me the opportunity to write the apocalypse au I’ve been putting off. It was supposed to be a drabble but I apparently can’t read because this turned into a long ass one-shot. TRIGGERING CONTENT AHEAD

In which the dead are walking, you belong to Bucky, and you stumble upon Steve’s settlement.  

series masterlist

word count: 6k

The first time you met Bucky, he saved your life. He saved yours and then made you take another. 

You had locked yourself in an abandoned gas station for the night. You had spent so many days running, walking further and further from your home. It was the first night in weeks that you let your guards down a little. The station had been ransacked completely but you managed to scrape a small meal of what people left behind as undesirables. It tasted heavenly. 

You had actually fallen asleep knowing you weren’t going to die. You fell asleep knowing you could sleep the full eight hours. 

When you awoke on the surprisingly comfortable tile floors, your worry returned abruptly. You could see through the windows that they had gathered in the parking lot. You slowly approached the windows, holding a kitchen knife tightly in your hands. 

You were still wearing the blue sundress from the family barbecue you were attending before the world ended, a combat jacket you found tied around your waist. The knife belonged to the Robinson’s, a family of four, that you watched all die before your eyes. 

They were the tip of the iceberg. You watched your own family die in the next few weeks and then all the members of the small group you were a part of. You should've known better than to stop running. Everyone you knew died because they got pinned somewhere and the walkers overtook them. 

One of the walkers noticed your slight movement and focused on you. It limped towards the window of the front of the store and you took a cautious step back. You kept still for a moment, hoping not to attract anymore but the one walker seemed to signal the rest of his friends. 

This entire town was deserted of walkers when you arrived yesterday and now it seemed to be overrun with them. You had a feeling that a herd might be passing through. You ducked behind one of the many food shelves and kneeled down. You were going to wait it out until they passed through town and realized there was no one here for them to eat.

That was the plan until more started to swarm the gas station, their moaning and groaning became even louder. Your hands were shaking as the sound of the pounding began to deafen you. You couldn’t help but consider what you would do if they broke through the glass. If you slit your own wrist and bled out then you wouldn’t feel them tearing you limb from limb. 

The back door had been barricaded too heavily for you to get through. Besides, you’d most likely meet another crowd of walkers going that way. 

You held the knife shakily, beads of sweat dripping down your forehead, as you tried to stop yourself from thinking that way. 

Abruptly, your eyes shot open as gunshots rang in the air nearby. One pierced through the front window, sending glass shattering to the floor. You didn’t recognize them as gunshots at first, you thought walkers had finally broken through but, as you peaked around the shelf, you found yourself dead wrong. 

Through the window, you saw a man moving like a shadow, firing his pistol and precisely hitting several of the walkers through their skulls. He was mesmerizing, a killing machine, and a force of energy that was foreign to you. He moved swiftly enough to dodge the blood-hungry demons that lunged for him and strong enough to knock them down and stab them through the skull before they could stand again. 

He was killing them all. 

You noticed the glint of a metal-like substance as your wide eyes admired his left arm. You were staring so intently that you hadn’t noticed a walker had crept its way inside and set its sights on you. 

You scrambled backward, fumbling with the knife in your hand as you struggled to point it at the monster. You stood, still backing away, as he moved closer. She was an elderly woman, her body decayed, and carrying a horrible stench. The necklace around her neck was shaped like a heart. It looked like the kind that contained pictures of a loved one. 

You couldn’t help but sympathize, couldn’t help but make up excuses for why you couldn’t do it. Why you couldn’t be brave. Before you could hesitate any longer, a sharp knife pierced through the woman’s skull and she collapsed before. 

You stared at the shadow of the men, his towering figure, and, although his eyes were a blue crystal, they were dead.

“Are you blind or deaf?” He asked you, his voice as dark as his appearance. 

You only shook your head, words not daring to leave your mouth. The man looked around the rest of the rest stop, probably noting there were barely any supplies before he sighed. He didn’t understand how you could let yourself get in such a sticky position and then not even be able to handle yourself against one of them.

“Do you have supplies?” He asked next. 

You hesitantly raised a finger towards your backpack resting beside one of the shelves, “Not … not much. I just … I-I just wanted to sleep,” He noted your appearance, the insufficient and dirty clothing as well as the bags around your eyes. You were a suburban girl who was clearly out of her element, “Thank you,” You added quickly. 

He didn’t acknowledge your gratitude, “I need medical supplies,” He stated firmly. 

“I, uhm, I have some alcohol and bandages-”

“Grab your bag, let’s go,” Your eyes seemed to widen even more as the man turned away from you. 

“W-What?” You stuttered over your words, “I don’t  … I don’t know you. I’ll give you the-”

Bucky turned back, clearly annoyed, “You want to stay alone when you can’t even properly use a knife?”

You looked down at the knife in your hand. It was clean of any blood, “I was going to use it ... “

He scoffed, “What's your name, doll?”

“Y/N,” You answered, still trying to keep calm. 

“Bucky,” He stated, making a move to leave once again, “You coming or not?”

You had to make a decision then. Risk life in the apocalypse alone or hope this man could protect you. What he wanted in return other than bandages, you weren’t sure yet. You huffed, deciding to grab your backpack and follow him outside. 

You had to admit that you weren’t cut out for this life. You weren’t even sure how you had made it this far. 

You stepped over the bodies of at least ten walkers as you stepped into the parking lot. Bucky walked toward an abandoned red truck sitting by one of the gas pumps. You watched him curiously as he discovered a walker strapped into the passenger seat. It couldn’t untangle himself from the seatbelt and was trying to throw itself out of the window. 

It started to moan and growl as the two of you approached. You thought he was pulling out the pistol to put it out its misery but Bucky turned to you, holding the gun out to you, “Take it.”

“I don’t want-”

“Take it,” He stated more firmly, little patience in his eyes. You raised a shaky hand, taking it into your grip, “Hold it tight.”

To your surprise, the man came behind you, gently grabbing your arm as he showed you the proper way to hold it, “W-Why do you want me to do this?” You asked shakily. When you tried to lower it, you pushed your arms up.

“You’re going to kill it,” You turned your head, your eyes wide, “I’m not bringing you with me if you can’t even kill a walker.”

You looked at the walker again, noting the uniform he was wearing was that of a mechanic. He used to have a job, a life, probably a family, “I can’t,” You protested, “I can’t.”

“You can do it. You will do it. No one is in there, Y/N,” Bucky spoke calmly, his voice lower than you expected, “You’re doing him a favor. At least let the man’s body be free.”

Bucky let go of you after your hands were in the correct position. He noticed your shaky grip, the fact that your body was clearly going into panic mode. You hoped he didn’t notice the tears stinging in your eyes. You imagined the man’s wife and the man’s family. Would they care that you didn’t leave him be? 

Bucky’s voice snapped you out of your trance, “Do it.”

You closed your eyes and fired. Silence echoed around you like the force of the gun knocked you back a step. When you slowly opened your eyes, the man’s brains were splattered on the back of his seat. 

“We’ll have to work on keeping your eyes open when you fire. You got lucky,” Bucky grabbed the gun from you, holding it down by his side. 

All you could do was stare at what you’d done. You shouldn’t be able to play God in this way. Monster or not, it all felt wrong, “ … I’m sorry,” You whispered to the man and to whatever family that was out there.

Bucky looked you over. He’d never met someone so afraid of killing. He was a killing machine before and after the dead rose from their graves. He saw your heartbreaking as reality was finally hitting you after all this time. You were realizing that you were nothing special, that this was your fate and everyone was eventually going to end up like the man in the truck. 

“Oh, doll,” Bucky sighed, his lips pressed into a thin line, “I’m afraid it’s a long way down from here.”

+

Bucky’s latest homestead was a Motel 6 more than forty miles away from the gas station. Your mother had warned you about guys who rode motorcycles and you imagined she was rolling over in her grave now that you were on the back of Buckys. Luckily, you didn’t encounter any more packs of walkers but Bucky insisted you hurry because a pack was sure to follow after all the gunshots. 

“The shower works,” Bucky spoke absentmindedly, setting a duffel bag on the single bed. He seemed to have collected a lot of supplies before he even ran into you, “Water’s cold but you can still use it.”

You nodded, clutching your backpack tightly, as you crossed the room. Bucky watched your backside as you slipped into the dirty bathroom. 

What the hell were you doing? You were in a tiny motel room with a complete stranger. Now you were getting naked behind a door and you had no idea of his expectation especially since there was only a single bed. 

You shook your head, setting your bag down on the sink. You pulled off your jacket and then lifted your dress above your head. You looked over your body, your sunken in features, and your shrinking figure. You reached to touch your face only to jump at the sound of a knock at the door. 

“Do you need a change of clothes?” He asked you and you froze for a moment. You looked at your tattered blue dress. “A verbal answer, preferably.”

“Y-Yes, please,” You answered, cracking the door so he couldn’t see you in your underwear. Bucky handed you the pile of cloth and you gave a weak smile as you closed the door back. Looking back in the mirror, you let out a breath of air you didn’t know you were holding. 

You set the clothes down before turning on the shower. You took the time to clean yourself and some of your items as well. You thought maybe you could get the blood and dirt out of your dress and it would remind you again of happy times. You set it out to dry on the towel rack. 

The clothes he gave you consisted of a plain black t-shirt that fit way too big for you. As you searched for more, you realized that it was all he had given you. It fit like a dress but you couldn’t help but wonder if his mind was elsewhere. You grabbed your backpack and jacket before exiting the bathroom. 

You found that he had made himself comfortable, the gray shirt he was wearing was tight enough to illuminate his muscles as well as the metal arm. He was cleaning his knife when he looked up to see you standing awkwardly. 

“Come here,” Again, he spoke like you were a minuscule thought in his mind. You took a few steps closer. “Are you going to prance around me like a baby doe for the rest of this relationship?”

You scoffed this time, “I’m sorry … this is new.”

Bucky didn’t seem like he was willing to wait for you to catch up to him. Things were now or never with him, “Set your things down,” For a moment, you questioned why you were following this man blindly, and then another part of you remembered what he was capable of. 

Even without a threat of violence, Bucky noted your submissiveness. Your innocence could be a burden but maybe a blessing in disguise as well. 

He grabbed your hand, pulling you in between his legs and you looked down at him with frightened eyes. He stilled your shaking hand with his strong one, “Should we go over how things are going to work between you and me?”

It was rhetorical but you nodded slowly. 

“It’s simple. You do as I say and I won’t leave you for dead,” You understood but it was much harsher when he put it in his own words. Looking at him, you couldn’t help but notice his handsome features. The killing had blinded you to it before but now you could see it with full exposure, “You use that gun when the time comes and it will come. I don’t want to have to put you out of your misery if you get bitten.”

“I don’t know how-”

“I’ll teach you, doll,” He declared. You yelped as he suddenly grabbed your waist, flipping you onto the bed and pinning you beneath him, “A helpless thing like you should know how to protect herself.”

Bucky searched your face, calculating before his head dipped into the crook of your neck. His beard scratched your skin as he placed kisses along the sensitive skin. 

“Bucky!” You struggled beneath him but you felt the strong metal of his hand press you further into the mattress, “Bucky, please.”

You felt so weak beneath him and you hated that warm feeling he sent through your body. You gritted your teeth as he kissed your chin and then his lips grazed yours, “I saved your life, Y/N, it’s the least you could do.”

You shook your head as he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was hard, desperate, and you felt all the pent up frustration in his body. You could finally breathe when he pulled away, only for him to take soft bites of the skin on your cheek and then your ear. 

“Bucky,” Your voice came out in a whisper. 

“I’ll be gentle,” He assured you, “It’ll feel better if you don’t struggle.”

He was right. As soon as you stopped trying to push him away, your tired body thanked you for it. 

Your first night with Bucky, he made sure to lay down his claim. He saw no use in trying to get to know you. You were his and you’d learn to like it. He saved your life after all. 

Bucky lifted your shirt, pulling off your panties. He stilled your shaking leg and a shiver went through you as the weapon he called a hand, wrapped around your thigh. He kissed down your body, over your stomach before his head dipped between your legs. 

You didn’t expect to cry out in ecstasy that night. You didn’t expect to feel anything at all but, although Bucky didn’t give you a choice, you started to feel human for the first time in a while. This sort of intimacy and pleasure was a rare commodity and part of you wanted to welcome that comfort.

You gripped the motel sheets tightly as he brought you over that cliff. He seemed to savor your pleasure and you expected him to force himself inside you next but he simply told you, “Go to sleep, doll.”

The dark stranger held you tight the whole night. 

+

The next few months passed quicker than you expected. Every day you were alive was a blessing but you couldn’t help but think that you didn’t deserve it. 

You traveled the country with Bucky, finding homestead after homestead to stay in. Inevitably, a crowd of walkers would ruin your plans or you’d run into groups of scavengers, humans who killed just as much as walkers. 

Bucky taught you how to properly use a gun as well as a knife. You practiced aiming in forest clearings and pretty soon you could handle your own. You considered leaving him but the stranger seemed to open up to you more as the weeks went on. You learned he was in the military and that was how he lost his arm. You figured he was some type of government agent before the dead rose. That was the only way you could explain the arm. 

You let yourself grow attached to him and you assumed that he did too. 

You told him about the small town you grew up in and your privileged life in suburbia. You had traded your sundress for jeans, a band t-shirt, one of Bucky’s combat jackets and black boots. 

You enjoyed the wind in your hair as you rode together with Bucky across the state lines. You were meant to be his extra eye but you couldn’t help that your mind wandered sometimes. Dreams of a better world comforted you. 

You were on a long road, traveling through an evergreen forest when Bucky’s motorcycle abruptly skidded to halt. You looked ahead and, fifty feet ahead, was a makeshift barricade of rusted cars, “What is it?” You asked in a whisper and Bucky shushed you. 

He dismounted the bike and you did the same. You took a small glance around the eerily quiet forest as Bucky approached the group of cars, “All the cars are dead. We can’t go through here,” You sensed the frustration in his voice as you pulled the map from your jacket pocket. You found the pen mark you last left that marked the area you two were trying to reach. 

“We can go back ten miles east and try a different road,” You spoke swiftly and Bucky nodded, turning back towards the vehicle. 

The scavengers came out of nowhere, several four-wheelers emerged from the tree line with armed men riding in them. They pointed their guns at the two of you as  A giant truck pulled into the road, causing you to be blocked on each side. 

Bucky was quick to grab his rifle, stepping in front of you and you pointed your pistol at one of the many scavengers. You heard Bucky curse under his breath as your panic began to set in. You glanced down at your feet and realized there was dry blood decorating the cement. This group used the blockade to ambush survivors and inevitably kill them. 

“Drop the weapons!” Shouted one of the burly men with his rifle pointed at us, “You’re outnumbered. Don’t make this hard!”

Bucky let the silence set in for a moment before letting his words cut through the thick tension like a knife, “Over. My. Dead. Body.”

Over yours too apparently. 

“Suit yourself,” The man agreed, his mouth opening to order his men to fire. 

He was interrupted by another voice though. One that clearly held more power than the man. He stepped out from the passenger side of the truck, jumping down with a revolver in hand. You noted his muscular stature and the fact that his long hair and beard reminded you of Jesus himself. 

“Hold your fire, Sam. Hold your fire!”

You noticed then the clothing of the men was way more decent than you expected. You noted bright colors and a lack of wrinkles. Clearly where these men came from there were heavy supplies. The man who looked like Jesus, who was clearly their leader, stepped forward with his revolver at his side. 

You noticed Bucky start to lower his rifle and something even more unexpected happened, the leader smiled at Bucky. His eyes wandered to you and the man’s smile widened even more, “Bucky,” The man spoke as if he couldn’t believe his own words.

“Steve,” You looked to Bucky with wide eyes. 

They knew each other?

You still held your gun tightly, your eyes darting around at the group of scavengers who had now lowered their weapons. 

“Bucky, what’s going on?” You asked him.

“Lower your weapon, dollface,” The man named Steve said to you, “Your pal Bucky here is an old friend of mine.”

You looked to Bucky for permission and he slowly nodded. You lowered it at his command which Steve watched with a raised eyebrow, “This is your strategy, Rogers? Killing innocents and taking their supplies?”

“A lot has changed since we last saw each other. This is called adapting, my friend. Besides, we haven’t hurt you, have we?” You could tell there were years, perhaps decades, on their relationship. Steve looked at you and noted how you hid halfway behind Bucky, “Who’s this?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Bucky said quickly. 

Steve only raised his hands in defense, chuckling, “Fine, fine. You two look like you need some help.”

“We’re fine, just let us pass.”

“How much gas do you have left?” Steve asked like he knew something that we didn’t, “I can tell you now that my group has collected every drop of it in the surrounding hundred-mile radius. I wouldn’t want you guys to get stranded somewhere.”

“We have enough,” Bucky stated firmly though you knew he was lying. 

Steve sighed, “C’mon, Buck, I’m extending an olive branch. I control this area, traveling on it without my permission is just a guaranteed death sentence. We have a sanctuary nearby with lots of food, water, and shelter. Come with us.”

Bucky was silent for a long moment. You knew he was pretty much a lone wolf and disliked the idea of having to trust others with his safety. 

“We won’t stay.”

Steve slowly nodded, “Fine, then give me time to catch up with my friend. We’ll need your weapons for the time being. I have to look out for the safety of my people.”

+

“Welcome to Liberty.”

Bucky refused to give up his weapons until they actually arrived at the settlement. You both noted the impressive nature of the area Steve controlled. The area consisted of a suburban neighborhood surrounded by a tall, metal wall. They called it Liberty. 

You noticed the watched towers that held snipers who killed the walkers in the path of the trucks we were traveling in. The gate to the settlement and all of the cars filed in before the doors were shut. Bucky helped you out of the truck and you got a good look around. 

It was a complete Utopia. They had large fields for farming, their own source of water and electricity. You didn’t even think something like this was possible. 

You passed a few people and they looked at you like outsiders while they smiled and acknowledged Steve as their “Captain”. 

Steve offered to show the two of you around but Bucky only wanted to see where the two of you would stay. If Bucky was impressed by everything, he didn’t say anything, “As a sign of good faith,” Steve said, “You two are staying in my own humble abode.”

Humble was the wrong one. Steve had the biggest house to himself at the center of the neighborhood. It was two stories, a calming blue, and looked like it had at least five bedrooms. Steve showed you around the nicely furnished house and introduced the two of you to a blonde woman named Sharon. 

She offered the two of you sandwiches and Steven explained that Sharon worked in the infirmary. They didn’t seem to be affectionate but it was easy to assume that they were romantically involved. People took comfort wherever they could nowadays. 

Steve showed you yours and Bucky’s room on the second floor and he left the two of you to settle in, “How do you know him?” Was the first question that left your lips. 

“We were in the same unit overseas. Last time I heard of him, I was being discharged after losing my arm and he was being promoted.”

You felt he was leaving out details but he answered more than you expected anyway. 

The two of you were able to clean up after two weeks of traveling and no showers. They even had hot water here which you hadn’t felt since life was normal. They also left you new clothes and you were surprised to find a dress for yourself. 

You felt the fabric of the floral pattern and it reminded you of happier times. You liked it, you wanted to feel feminine after months of being covered in dirt and gunshot residue. As you slipped the dress on and finally drove a brush through your hair, you gazed at Bucky. He was buttoning a red flannel and you noticed how you could really see his face now that he had a chance to trim his beard. 

He looked … clean. Maybe a little more innocent than before. 

He slipped on his own jeans and boots before saying to you, “Stay here,” You grabbed his hand before he could walk out the door. 

“Do you trust him?”

“Enough,” He answered simply, “I trust him enough.”

He kissed your forehead before leaving you alone. 

+

“Have you fallen in love or something, Buck?”

Bucky paced the length of Steve’s office, his mind all over the place, “No,” Bucky answered, “Our relationship is just … mutually beneficial.”

Steve leaned back in his chair, his fingers running through his beard, “That’s how it is nowadays. I’m sure Sharon’s motivations include me being a better option than those savages who do my dirty work. And I’m not ugly, either.”

As Bucky didn’t respond to his humor, Steve continued, “What’s the nature of your relationship with Y/N? What’s in it for her?”

“I keep her alive.”

“And for you?” Bucky was silent because Steve already knew the answer, “Our relationship could also be mutually beneficial. As you can see, I have a lot to offer. I have a fucking empire, Buck. Weapons, land, you name it. If I don’t have it then surely one of my allies will.”

“And what can I offer you?”

Stever smirked evilly, “Her.”

“No.”

“I saw the way she looks at you. She’d do anything you said if you asked.

“Why?” Bucky asked, his muscles starting to tighten as the anger boiled inside of him, “You have women here, don’t you?”

Steve shook his head, “Not enough that are childbearing age,” Bucky understood. His friend was developing some sort of king complex, “I’ve been trying with Sharon for a while now and nothing. My allies refuse to trade theirs.”

“You want to bring a life into this world?”

“This is the safest place in the entire country. There has to be a point where we rebuild.”

“... Steve,” Bucky rubbed his temple. 

“I’m not trying to steal her away from you, Buck. She just has something I need. Something I would pay you handsomely for.”

+

“You’re very pretty,” Sharon said to you as she served another serving of salad onto your plate. She sat in front of you at the square table and the four of you ate dinner together, “Bucky is lucky to have you.”

“Thank you,” You smiled back at her, “Your home … your home is very beautiful.”

Sharon smiled, sipping at her cold glass of water. She looked to Steve who said, “We’ve made it our own, haven’t we?” He asked Sharon rhetorically, “We’d love it if you stayed a while, Y/N.”

Steve watched as you immediately looked to Bucky. After spending the day here, you did think it would be nice to stay but you were loyal to Bucky, “Well … I don’t think Bucky likes to follow other people's rules very much.”

Bucky was silent as he cut his steak, not even bothering to look at you. 

“That might be an understatement,” Steve chuckled, trying to break the tension, “You could always stay anyways … and we’d let Bucky come and go as he pleases.”

Your eyebrows raised in confusion. You had the feeling again that Steve more than you. What made it worse was now you suspected everyone at the table knew more than you. 

You desperately wanted Bucky to say something. Anything, “I don’t know what use I’d be around here.”

“You could always help out in the infirmary,” Sharon said happily, “Our guys are always getting hurt out there.”

“I appreciate the offer but …”

“You’ll stay here,” You looked to Bucky with wide eyes, “You’ll be safe here.”

“And where will you go?” You asked quickly, your world starting to fall apart once again. 

“I have business elsewhere,” Was all he said. You could deal with his secretiveness before but not now, “I’ll be back when I’m done.”

Silence fell over the table for a moment before Sharon attempted to comfort you, “We’ll take care of you here, honey. There’s no need to worry.”

You shook your head, “No, I’m going with you. I don’t want to stay.”

“Y/N-”

Bucky was interrupted by Steve, “You will stay. The decision has already been made.”

You stood up abruptly, shaking the table, “I don’t even know you people!” You yelled back, turning to Bucky, “Please take me with you.”

“What did I just fucking say, Y/N?” 

It felt like you were being rejected. Like you were losing yet another person, “This is what you want, Bucky?” You crossed your arms, “You swear?”

“Yes, doll,” He reassured you, “This doesn’t change anything.”

You pushed your chair back, “This changes everything and you don’t even care,” You spoke, not bothering to look back, before storming out of the dining room. 

+

Bucky wasn’t telling you the truth, that much you knew. You sat on the bed in your new room with a heavy weight on your shoulders. You untied your hair from its ponytail and ran your fingers through your hair, trying to relieve some stress in your body. 

When the door opened again, you immediately said, “I’m sorry for yelling-” You stopped as you realized that it wasn’t Bucky who had followed you up. You stood up, noting how Steve’s body basically took up the entire door frame. If he was attempting to be less threatening, it wasn’t working, “What do you want?”

“I can tell Bucky loves you very much, you know. And I don’t think he’s loved a lot of things in his life.” You thought about it for a moment. You never thought what Bucky showed you was love. He was cold and unforgiving most of the time. Steve stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him, “He cares for you but there are still some things he can’t give up yet. He’s a soldier. He’s always going to crave another mission and he knows he can’t bring the ones he loves into harm's way.”

You thought there was truth in his words. Perhaps you just didn’t want to lose your trust in Bucky. 

“What do you want from me?”

Steve sighed, “Well, I suppose you can’t just use my resources and offer me nothing in return.”

“Sharon said I could help her-”

“Yes,” Steve agreed, closing the gap between the two of you, “You’ll help her and you’ll help me.”

“With what?” You asked, and before he could grab you, you kicked his shin. Hard. 

Steve grunted in pain and as you tried to run past him, he grabbed your leg. You fell to your hands and knees abruptly, still trying to pull away from him, “Where are you going to run-” You kicked your leg out, nailing the Captain in his nose. 

Now, you had really made him angry. Steve groaned, still not letting go of your leg, “He taught you a lot … but don’t be delusional, sweetheart.”

Steve pulled you into his body, grabbing your arms and pinning them behind your back. You heard the jingle of metal before you heard it click around both your wrist. Steve pulled you up from the ground, bending your body over the bed. You tried to kick but he spread your legs with his feet. 

He pulled your dress up and easily ripped off your underwear. 

You screamed, calling for Bucky, “Bucky told me where you come from. Think about it, I’m offering you another chance at your old life. White picket fence, kids running around in the yard,” There was a sudden slap to your behind and a tear slipped down your cheek.

Steve thought you were gorgeous. A baby was not the only thing he wanted from you. He wouldn’t mind having a face like yours walking around the settlement. 

The blood from his nose dripped down to your bottom as he undid his belt and unleash his member. It was already hard, the excitement of the situation having caused it. 

He licked his hand, reaching down to fill between your legs, “Already wet. He didn’t tell me that you liked pain,” Steve landed another, harder slap to your bottom and you cried out. 

“Steve, please,” You begged, “I’ll do anything.”

“You will. You’re going to give me a baby, gorgeous,” He hit you again and you felt his tip press against your entrance. He impaled himself inside you, holding onto your cuffed wrist as he moved in and out of you. Your eyes were wide, your mouth agape, as you felt him take you over. 

As his pace quickened, you bit down on the comforter to keep the moans from escaping your lips. His hands move to your waist, pulling your body back against him, so you couldn’t escape his assault. The position you were in seemed to allow him to hit a very sensitive spot, one that had you gasping for air and crying out at the same time. 

Steve could tell your body like it. You were squeezing his cock hard and your body was writing on the bed before him. He felt it when you tightened around him as you reached your climax, “What a needy. Little. Thing,” He grunted before flipping your body over. The handcuffs dug into your skin but all you could focus on was him. 

His thrusts became even deeper as he leaned over your body. He kissed your lips, his tongue exploring your mouth before he made his final thrusts inside of you. The Captain moaned into your mouth as warmth filled you. 

He breathed heavily, emptying himself inside you as he kissed your tears. You were still shaking when he pulled out of you. As he let go of you, you weakly tried to crawl away. Steve walked around the bed, watching you like a predator watches its prey. 

He flipped you back over, grabbing your wrist as he pulled you further onto the bed. After that, he placed a pillow beneath your hips, elevating you. 

He leaned down to where your face is, brushing your hair away so he could see you clearly, “You learned to like Bucky, you’ll do the same with me.”

You had no words left for him. Your fate was sealed from now. 

In this new world, there was little room for compassion. This was what Bucky must’ve meant. This was the long way down. 

+

I hope you enjoyed this, I know it was long!! Part two is out!!

[bakumu]

Writer's Favorites

I thought it'd be fun to put together a small list of some of the writings that I enjoyed the most and give a little blurb into why I feel so, so let's get started

You Already Have Me

[[ SMUT // FLUFF: you expect to spend the night relaxing while bakugou spends time with his friends, until game night gets cut short and you become the center of his attention ]]

This was my first fic and I'm pretty sure that it’s one of my fics with the most notes. When I started writing I knew that the first thing I had to do was write smut because I just had to get it out of the way. But even so, I think it still turned out pretty good and it isn't as cringe as I thought it was going to be.

Crepuscular

[[ SMUT // ANGST // COMFORT:  you need to convince katsuki to drink your blood, but in a world full of unknowns, will his resolve crumble under the weight of his own confession? ]]

I had such a good time with the setting of this fic. The darkness and the hinted at story behind what was actually written still make me really proud. I don't know if I would ever write a series based on it because I love how open it is. There is no real ending except what the reader imagines and I really like that.

Becoming His

[[ SMUT // TW: NONCON & DUBCON: your boyfriend’s mistake ends up with you paying the price when you suddenly find yourself in the hands of the very powerful kisaki tetta. ]]

My first fic for Kisaki ♡ I feel like I blacked out when I wrote this because it's so magnificent. I wrote this before I really knew him even so it blows my mind that so many people say that this is the first Kisaki fic they read. I hadn't even gotten caught up on the manga and I feel like Hanma is very out of character but I’m glad that so many people still enjoy it. It's definitely one of my most requested fics for a part 2 but I really don't think that will ever happen, I don't even know what I would do with a part 2 besides having the cat love Kisaki haha

Say It Back

[[ ANGST: kisaki returns to your secure hotel after a long day of work only to have his worst fear become reality. what will he find in the hotel room? his happiness or a future too dark to fathom? ]]

What can I say, I love writing angst, and this is the one that hurt me the most. I feel like I had a galaxy brain idea right in the middle and I texted Belle and I was like “do you think I can pull this off??” So I'm very proud of it because I think that I did pull it off. And then I got immediate feedback about hurting people's feelings so it was a good night.

Ruby Red

This isn't even done, and I don't know if it will ever be "done" but here it is on the list. It's really just my love letter to Bakugou: the reader is me and the story is completely based around my selfship story so it's the most me thing I've ever written. Plus, since I don't plan on writing things in order I can hop around however I please and that is really fun for me.

< back to navi

[sukumen]

sorry if this is a loaded question, ofc you don’t need to answer! what’s your take on the argument that dark content is harmful to reality, and that it romanticises traumas? personally i like reading some dc, but when i see posts about how it’s harmful to both survivors and readers (smth to do with psychologically normalising it) it kinda makes me feel guilty, like i’m doing something wrong? when i know i can distinguish between fiction and reality?

hey! so i’m going to keep this under a read more to avoid upsetting anyone - also because this is literally - and i mean, literally - an essay LMAO. i had a lot to say!

any anon hate will be deleted and blocked, but you’re free to engage me off anon (and kindly on anon) if you want to! anon, you’re also free to come chat with me in dms if you want to speak more freely about this :) 

warning for rape mentions, murder / mass murder mentions, dub / noncon mentions.

so, i want to preface this by saying that i don’t think that anyone is obligated to like or be comfortable with dark content. it truly is your prerogative not to be interested in it and you are valid if it makes you feel uncomfortable. so nothing i’m saying here is to convince people that anyone should like it or is wrong for not liking it.

but i don’t agree with the argument that people should be shamed for liking or writing it, that it romanticizes trauma, etc. i understand why people feel that way 100%, but i don’t agree.

sometimes, it feels arbitrary. “dark content” has become a pseudonym for dub/non-con fic, but is the the only type of dark content there is? dark stories can include murder, horror, gore, etc. yet, despite us knowing that murder (for example) is a crime and morally wrong, most people don’t bat an eye when a chara in a fic does it and is still protrayed as attractive or is the reader’s lover. we go crazy for mafia aus where characters kill and show power --- we love those characters, those scenes where they kill and go take their lover all covered in blood. i mean, even in the jjk fandom, one of the most popular characters is a cursed spirit whose first words in the series are about massacring women and children. and we love him. more than that, we love the gory, arguably dark world he comes from - we hypothesize about these characters, we sympathize with them, and we lust over them.

so it’s hard to reconcile that with telling fans who write dub/noncon that they are impacting people’s sense of reality. we’re all experiencing this series together - if written fan fiction is what desensitizes morality, what about the images from the anime and manga? would we make the same argument for banning it? would we say that the people who like sukuna are romanticizing mass violence or that gege is normalizing it for us psychologically by making the character who does it hot and engaging or showing/referencing it so much in the manga?

i just don’t think we would. i think we all understand that those things are wrong and like him knowing that, and can readily say he’s a villain or that the things we’re seeing is wrong. so, i don’t think there’s a black-and-white argument that seeing x in media will make you think y is a-okay or make you more comfortable with it in real life.

i do get that there’s a difference here: a big part of this argument is the sexual aspect of non/dubcon - it’s hard to feel like it’s not normalizing rape when people find a scenario like that hot (whereas no one is like...lewding a mass murder scene, haha). but i think that, at the end of the day, brains do what brains do and people just have dark fantasies. like it’s really as simple as that. rape fantasies in particular are common and talked about by psychologists all the time and i have never been able to find a common thread of them condemning people having them or even writing about them. what they DO talk about is the fact that consent is actually key to the fantasy - that the person fantasizing is the person controlling the situation, that the fantasy, despite being “dub/noncon”, is inherently exactly what they want because THEY are creating the situation, and that, in the end, it’s the absence of actual danger that makes it. ultimately: there is a difference between real life rape and an imagined fantasy or roleplay. so much so that it might not even be fair to call them “rape” fantasies at all.

“It’s crucial to recognize that real-life rape is anything but erotic for a woman. Being at the mercy of someone who’s so outrageously violating your will, holding you down, threatening you with bodily harm (or even death), and physically forcing himself upon you induces arousal all right. But not that of sexuality, but of utterly petrifying anxiety and panic. Contrast this to most imagined rape scenes, which are so electrifying precisely because they’re expressly designed by their female creator to stimulate the illusion of danger—which can, in fact, be positively arousing.”

>  from this article.

to me, this is ultimately what dub/noncon fic is. people writing out those fantasies for people who share those fantasies to process those fantasies.

you can make the argument that that it’s harmful to survivors, but that has its own issues when doctors have reported that some survivors have rape fantasies or find comfort in acting out those rape fantasies (and writing, in my opinion, is a form of acting that out). like are they not valid victims because they are contextualizing their trauma into something that they can control and can process on their own terms? i think the issue there is that the argument uses survivors as a monolith to make an argument on their behalf; but every individual survivor is valid in what they think about this because no two survivors process what happened to them in the same way.

i myself am a survivor and have no real issue with dark content (obviously). i don’t read it often and only write it now because of sukuna; but when i do read it, i draw the line at certain things because i personally cannot stomach it. but would i demand that person delete it from existence because of that? no, i wouldn’t. because again, at the end of the day, that’s the entire basis of the fantasy. i control what i’m fantasizing about, and if something that i do not want to happen to “me” as the reader occurs, i do not read it. i don’t consent to that experience or that fantasy, so i stay away. but at the same time, that other person’s fantasy isn’t mine to control or infringe on and it doesn’t make me a better person than them for not sharing the fantasy.

SO ALL OF THIS TO SAAAY: i don’t think you should feel bad for enjoying dark content. i don’t think the argument about whether or not you’ll know how wrong it is in real life anymore really applies because you could make the claim that any type of fiction runs the risk of distorting people’s perception of reality and making them desensitized to something. and i don’t think that’s what people’s struggle with this is. 

what it boils down to, to me, is that people can’t understand why anyone would find dub/noncon arousing, and think that they condone rape because of it. which, again, is understandable. rape is a horrible fucking thing to experience - it isn’t sexy, it isn’t hot, it isn’t arousing and it’s hard to see any nuance when you see “noncon” and “wow this was so hot” in one post. but based on the way psychologists talk about “rape” fantasies, i think the two things (the fantasy and the real life act of violence) can typically be distinct for people, even survivors, and it just comes down to whether or not it’s a fantasy you share. if you don’t, completely your right! block the tags, block the writers, do whatever you have to do to protect your peace and your limits! but the discourse about it always seems to go into the realm of shame or arguments about someone’s moral compass, which i think is unfair. 

hopefully this helps and wasn't an annoying thing to read! like i said, don’t mind talking about it more if need be!

[glimmerglanger]

Oooh, I think I was the anon who submitted the Obikin first time ask! Honestly I’d read *anything* you wrote but of the AUs, I looove our sweet virginal Obi-Wan in mirror AU, everyone in that story gets off on the fact that he’s a virgin , and since the shadow/emperor role play was so scorching, it’d be very hot to read what the reality was. Or if you wanted to take things in a whole other direction and felt like revisiting the ageswap AU that would be just fine by me!

(re, this ask:  Anonymous said: 

Good heavens Glimmer, your spicy Sundays are going to kill me one of these days, but it’ll be a happy passing!!! My ask is inspired by your most recent post— so I re read a bunch of your fics and spicy snippets to confirm it hasn’t been done, but would you ever write an explicit Obikin first time?? There’s allusions to it, and roleplay, but I just want Anakin to rock virgin Obi-Wan’s world like he described in your snippet. Would it be gentle? Passionate? Fast? Pls I’m dying to know)

I....chose the “go in a whole other direction” choice, ahadfdka. SO. This is part of the reverse/age-swap au. (aka the “Anakin was trained by Qui-Gon and took Obi-Wan as a Padawan after the events of TPM!AU). You can find the first part here, though this is, obviously, set before that one.

I have MANY WARNINGS. The AU as a whole is dead dove do not eat. This part especially? Dark, manipulative Anakin (he’s got 10 more years of Palps whispering to him). Dubcon (it...fits the definition of dubcon, but I, personally, feel that it borders very close to noncon, so keep that in mind when deciding to skip or not). Emotional grooming, possessiveness, master/padawan relationship, overstimulation, etc. Obi-Wan is over the age of consent.  

PLEASE READ ALL THE WARNINGS BEFORE YOU READ THE FIC. NOT SAFE FOR WIZARDS. DEAD DOVE. ETC.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Obi-Wan had - just about - gotten used to kissing his Master. He still flashed hot all over every time Anakin leaned down, shocked and startled and so - so awed that Anakin wanted to touch him, to hook a finger under his chin and tilt his jaw up, to lean down and slide their mouths together.

Obi-Wan had never kissed anyone before. He’d haltingly admitted it, when Anakin asked, embarrassed because it was - was obviously something people did, just not him, and--

Anakin had seemed pleased, anyway, with the news. He’d radiated a deep, shivery kind of pleasure out into the Force and breathed, “Good,” a moment before he’d taken another kiss. 

Obi-Wan had never kissed anyone but Anakin, but he thought he’d gotten pretty good at it. He still didn’t really know what to do with his hands, but that seemed to be alright. He couldn’t imagine touching Anakin the way Anakin touched him.

It seemed… he just couldn’t bring himself to pull aside his Master’s robes, to touch his bare skin, all golden and lovely. That didn’t seem to be a problem, either. Anakin showed Obi-Wan what he needed, and Obi-Wan was a fast learner.

He learned how to touch Anakin’s hardened cock, when Anakin told him to do so. He learned how to wrap his fingers around overheated flesh, how to stroke him, Anakin nuzzling against his neck and panting.

It didn’t make sense, really, that Anakin would want someone like him, but -- but his Master was the Chosen One. He knew much better than Obi-Wan. And he said, rasping, that Obi-Wan made him feel--better. Steadier. Good.

It left Obi-Wan feeling tingly and hot all over. He’d thought his heart might pound right out of his chest the first time Anakin told him to get on his knees. It had been - Obi-Wan had never opened his mouth and taken someone else into his mouth before, either.

Anakin had curled Obi-Wan’s Padawan braid around a finger and held on, rasping instructions down, watching with dark, dark eyes. And he’d promised, when Obi-Wan choked at the end, startled by the rush of fluid into his mouth, that Obi-Wan would get better at that, too.

He had. 

Master Anakin was a very good teacher. Obi-Wan’s saber forms had improved rapidly under his tutelage. And Obi-Wan must have learned what to do with his mouth quickly, too, because Anakin said Obi-Wan was the best he’d ever had, said his mouth was perfect, said he was made to suck and choke and swallow, just for Anakin.

Obi-Wan’s master was the Chosen One. Obi-Wan didn’t see how he could be anything but correct. 

Master Anakin said that Obi-Wan helped him touch the Force. Helped him focus on the Light. He said he needed it and--

And Obi-Wan had always tried to be a good Padawan. He grew used to the ache in his jaw and the way his throat got sore. Master Anakin was always very kind, so gentle when he wiped Obi-Wan’s face, afterwards, brushing aside any tears - Master Anakin said it was alright, he said tears were normal, when getting your throat fucked, and Obi-Wan had felt like he might die on the spot from the way he burned at the words - and smears of spit.

Anakin liked to push his come back up and over Obi-Wan’s lips, if he couldn’t swallow it all. Obi-Wan grew used to the salt-sour taste. It wasn’t so bad, really, once you’d tasted it a few times, but he preferred it when Anakin came down his throat, when he didn’t have to taste it.

His throat was sore when Anakin pulled him close, after they got back from a sparring session, tugging him into the fresher. The hot water felt good over his aching muscles but, despite the heat, he shivered when Anakin pressed close, hands settling on his hips and pulling him closer.

“Force,” Anakin said, against his neck, hands clenching against his skin. His Master was hard, but, then, Anakin had been hard when they left the sparring rooms. Obi-Wan had felt the press of his cock when Anakin pinned him, face down on the mats. Anakin had - had rubbed against him, against the swell of his ass, and Obi-Wan had frozen, wondering if he would need Obi-Wan on his knees, there, in the training rooms--

They had made it back to their quarters. He felt grateful for that, distantly, as Anakin slid a hand lower, gripping his ass and rasping, “You make me crazy, you know that?”

“I’m sorry, Master,” Obi-Wan murmured. He was never sure what to say when Anakin said such things. “I don’t mean to.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Anakin said, and Obi-Wan felt the crook of his mouth. “I think you know exactly what you do to me, don’t you?” 

Obi-Wan wanted to protest that he didn’t know what he was doing at all. But Anakin was the Chosen One. And he didn’t like it, anyway, when Obi-Wan disagreed with him. Especially when they were like this, when he needed the relief and steadiness only Obi-Wan could give him. Obi-Wan jerked out a little nod, and Anakin sucked a kiss into his skin, rasping, “I knew it.”

“Master….” Obi-Wan started, and trailed off when Anakin sucked harder at his skin, an edge of teeth sliding across his neck. Anakin put a hand on his lower back, ran his fingers up Obi-Wan’s spine and curled fingers into Obi-Wan’s hair, tilting his face back and kissing him until he felt breathless and ready to fly apart.

And then Anakin pulled away, breathing hard, and said, “Clean off. Hurry.”

“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan said, disoriented, his heart racing. He’d expected Anakin to tell him to get on his knees, there in the shower. He had, before. Instead, Anakin did nothing more than touch him, touches lingering and possessive, as Obi-Wan scrubbed himself clean, hurriedly. “Should I…?”

“Out onto our bed,” Anakin said, pulling him close to drop a brief kiss across his mouth. It had been their bed for some time. Obi-Wan never slept in his own room, anymore. Anakin liked to keep him close at night, liked to hold him, and it was a good idea, anyway.

His Master had nightmares, so frequently. Obi-Wan could better help with them if he were there, already. He knew how to soothe Anakin’s, how to stroke back his hair and hold him until he calmed down, and if Anakin left marks on his skin from how tightly he held on, sometimes…

Well. It only went to show how bad the dreams were, how much help he needed.

He set those thoughts aside and sat on the side of the bed. He wondered if he ought to dress, but Anakin had been hard, when he left the shower. He closed his eyes, instead, tilting his head down and focusing on looking for the calm, still place inside his head, pulling the Force close and all around him.

He felt settled in his bones when Anakin cupped both sides of his jaw, tilted his face up, and kissed him. “What a dutiful Padawan I have,” Anakin said, when he drew back, his mouth curved into a smile, something besides praise in the words, something Obi-Wan couldn’t quite identify, even as Anakin continued, “Dutiful in all things, aren’t you?”

“I try to be, Master,” he said, puzzled by the way Anakin’s emotions shifted in the Force, at the way his expression tightened. He didn’t have time to discover the meaning of any of it, not with Anakin kissing him again, pushing him steadily back, until he sprawled across the mattress, Anakin stretched over him. 

“Force,” Anakin rasped, against his mouth, so warm and close and - and everywhere, “you’re so beautiful like this. So perfect.” Obi-Wan felt him smile, the crook of his mouth as he slid a hand down, over Obi-Wan’s stomach, touching his cock which--he didn’t, always. Obi-Wan never knew when he would or wouldn’t. “So eager for me.”

Obi-Wan bit his lip, trying to muffle a moan, trying to hold still. Anakin would say, if he wanted Obi-Wan to move. “Look at you,” Anakin murmured, stroking him, steady and sure. Obi-Wan felt his breathing getting shallow, felt his stomach getting tight, wildly unsure why Anakin wanted to touch him like this, wanted to - to spend time trying to make Obi-Wan feel good, wanted--

“There you go,” Anakin said, quietly, breath rasping by Obi-Wan’s ear, twisting his wrist just so, relaxing his grip when Obi-Wan came with a groan. “You like that, don’t you?” he asked, smearing his fingers through the mess on Obi-Wan’s stomach. Obi-Wan nodded, dizzy-headed, and Anakin smiled against his skin. “Good. And it’ll make things easier. Spread your legs for me.”

Obi-Wan blinked, tingling still from his orgasm, thoughts feeling slow and drifting. But he shifted a leg to the side, almost automatically. He’d gotten very used to doing what Anakin told him to do. That was what Padawans did. They obeyed their Masters and he was a good Padawan, he--

Jolted when Anakin shifted up, frowning at him, and said, “I said spread your legs, Obi-Wan.”

“I’m sorry,” he panted out, not entirely sure what was going on. He’d expected Anakin to shift up the bed, to put his knees on either side of Obi-Wan’s shoulders and slide his cock between Obi-Wan’s lips, or to rub against him, sometimes he liked to do that, too, it--

Anakin said, “Better,” and shifted so he could crouch between Obi-Wan’s legs, running his hands up Obi-Wan’s thighs from knee to hip. He squeezed a little, gaze hungry and roving, as he said, “I can’t even think, looking at you. You are so...perfect.”

He leaned forward, bracing a hand by Obi-Wan’s head and kissing him again, deep and hard. He was still kissing Obi-Wan, nipping at Obi-Wan’s bottom lip, when he slid his hand up Obi-Wan’s leg, past his spent cock, and--

Obi-Wan made a harsh sound, jerking at a sudden - sudden press into him and--

Anakin panted, “Sh, sh, relax,” curled up over him, weight keeping Obi-Wan against the mattress. He had--he’d put-- “Fuck, you feel so good. You’re so tight. So hot. I knew you would be.”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth and shut it again, soundless. He started to reach up, not sure what he planned to do with his hands, and lowered them back to the bed, instead, twisting his fingers into the sheets, feeling like his skin was too tight, all of a sudden, heat washing over his face and down his chest and back when Anakin slid his finger out. Obi-Wan thought maybe--

Anakin pushed his finger in again, and Obi-Wan heard the sound he made from a distance, body clenching around the intrusion even as Anakin shifted, trailing kisses down his throat, the pressure of his mouth and teeth a distracting counterpoint to the continued movement of his hand.

Obi-Wan tensed, hearing the crack in his own voice when he cried out, “Master,” when Anakin slid another finger into him, and the stretch felt - felt impossible, too much, and--

“It’s alright,” Anakin said, nipping at his collarbone. “You’re doing so well, Obi-Wan. I knew you would. You’re always just what I need.” And he twisted his fingers, knuckles catching and Obi-Wan cried out again, at a jolt of electric sensation-- 

Anakin made a thick, amused sound. He crooked his fingers, spreading them out while they were inside and said, “Fuck, I knew you’d love it. Look at you.” He slid his other hand over, fingers brushing over Obi-Wan’s cock - twitching a bit with whatever Anakin was doing and-- Obi-Wan blinked, rapidly, trying to clear his eyes, trying to breathe deep and steady.

And he supposed he did like it - it was making him hard, making his gut tight and his spine all liquid heat. He just wished he could do more than gulp at the air, trembling as Anakin rasped, “I think you can take another.”

Obi-Wan turned his face to the side, gasping, legs tensing where they’d curled up against Anakin’s sides and hips. He thought he might fly apart. It didn’t -- hurt, exactly, the stretching pressure, but it was so strange and it burned, a little, and Anakin kept - kept twisting his fingers, hitting something that made Obi-Wan’s spine arch, that--

“It’s alright,” Anakin said, “you can make noises for me, let me hear how you like it.”

The next twist of his fingers did drag a noise from Obi-Wan’s throat, ragged. And he - and if Anakin said, then he must, then--

Anakin slid fingers across his cock, and stroked him, kneeling there between his legs, the sensations caused by his hands building on one another, higher and higher. Obi-Wan tightened his fingers in the sheets, burning up under his skin, and Anakin did not relent, did not slow his pace at all, until Obi-Wan bowed up, cock jerking with the force of his orgasm.

Anakin slid his fingers free while Obi-Wan was still shaking, and Obi-Wan cried out, sharp. It felt far too loud in the quiet of their room. Anakin didn’t chide him, though, only smiled down at him, so lovely, almost glowing through the Force, his hair disheveled and--

Obi-Wan had to curl his legs up when Anakin settled against him, his heels bumping awkwardly against Anakin’s back. Anakin rocked against him, still hard - but, then, Obi-Wan hadn’t done anything, none of the things Anakin usually needed him to do.

Anakin curled down over him, grabbed his chin and turned his face back, kissing him hard while Obi-Wan tried to get his breath back, and--

Obi-Wan cried out against his mouth, Anakin swallowing the sound, when Anakin put his other hand on Obi-Wan’s hip, gripped hard and shifted forward. There was pressure, sudden, sliding against him where he was so tender and sensitive already, and then into him, thicker than Anakin’s fingers, hot and hard and--

“Fuck,” Anakin rasped, against his mouth, “yeah, Obi-Wan, just like that.”

Obi-Wan twisted, but there was no where to go and - and anyway, he could feel the pleasure rolling off of Anakin, flowing through their bond and rushing into his head. Anakin liked this, liked pushing further and further in, his emotions loud and bright and sharp.

Obi-Wan breathed shallow, his heart racing in his chest, hands off the blankets despite all his best efforts because he needed something more solid to hold onto, so he didn’t fly apart. Anakin didn’t chide him, when Obi-Wan gripped at his arm and one shoulder, holding on tightly, thoughtlessly, and then Anakin stopped, pressed flush against him.

His body was warm and solid, stretched out across Obi-Wan, but it was so hard to focus on that, so hard to focus on anything but the - the stretch of him, inside. “Force,” Anakin said, voice all thick with pleasure, “you’re perfect, Obi-Wan, just right. So hot and tight for me, aren’t you?”

Obi-Wan nodded, jerkily, not sure he could manage words. He felt--split apart, like he was choking even with nothing in his throat, his ribs all tight around his lungs and his skin burning. It was--so much, all over, he couldn’t--

“You were meant for this,” Anakin murmured, thick, shifting and it was too much, Obi-Wan couldn’t-- “Meant to take me, the Force made sure we’d find each other. The universe knew how much I’d need you. Knew you were mine.”

Obi-Wan blinked, but it did nothing to clear his vision. He tightened his hold on Anakin, tilting his face up, gasping for air in his overheated lungs, stretched and filled and-- And this was what Anakin needed and -- and Anakin was the Chosen One, and Obi-Wan was his - his Padawan, his--

He got lost, listening to his own voice, the sounds he made as Anakin moved above him, around him, inside him. The burn faded, his body giving way, learning what Anakin needed, but it was still - each thrust lit up all his nerves, too bright. He felt over sensitive, aching as Anakin panted above, skin shined with exertion, expression written all over with pleasure.

Obi-Wan held onto that, onto knowing Anakin needed this, needed to push into him, folding him up a little further, rasping, “I need you so much, Obi-Wan. I need you - just like this, I--tell me, tell me you’re mine.”

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure he could breathe enough to form words. He wasn’t sure it was right to say that he was Anakin’s. But - but Anakin had asked, before. He needed it, needed that connection, and Obi-Wan was the only one who could help, he - he reached out with the Force, desperately, looking for balance, and found it after a moment. Enough, anyway, to suck in a breath, to gasp out, “I’m yours, Master.”

Anakin made a ragged, thick sound and the next thrust of his hips drove Obi-Wan’s up the bed. He held on, noises punched from his chest, hoping that--

That Anakin would find what he needed. Quickly. And he must have, because his pleasure crested in the Force, spilling around them both, even as he sagged down, weight pressing Obi-Wan into the mattress, making his hips ache from the stretch.

“Kriffing hell,” Anakin said, a moment later, nuzzling against the side of Obi-Wan’s neck as Obi-Wan tried to relearn what the inside of his skin felt like, “the things you do to me.”

[iwaasfairy]

i just wanna know how did the relationship with BIGGER, BETTER start? With stepfather oikawa? And why did it continue? Just curious lol if you don’t mind me asking!

aaaHHH my stepdaddy oikawa soulmate .°(ಗдಗ。)°. i’m gonna write more for him too so i won’t elaborate too much but

tw stepcest, dubcon/noncon

first of all, tooru and reader’s mom have a bit of an age gap. it’s not specified in the fic but i imagined it to be about the same as between tooru and reader, so about a decade. tooru probably did marry her because he genuinely felt love for her mom, but since she works abroad and isn’t around a lot the gap grew very quickly and he ends up spending the majority of his time with reader. and we all know tooru has a problem with being on his own (i think even far into his adult life he still has this sense of insecurity and need to rely on someone) so he takes reader’s company as a very precious thing.

and his little girl is beautiful. it’s really no wonder he is attracted to her and relies on her, and the fact that she’s just so easy to manipulate also does help feed his ego. but in my mind he genuinely loves her in a romantic way as well as a mutual understanding way. i’m not going to talk about the first time here (hehe) but the reason it continues is most definitely because he needs it to/is in too deep. he’s done things that he is not proud of, things he’d rather not come out at all. after letting his teammates use her like a little breeding cow he knows there’s plenty of people involved here, and it would break not only the mother’s heart but probably also readers. keeping her close under his wing is the best way to make sure she keeps her pretty little mouth shut <33