#All Caps x reader

[late-to-the-party-81]

Rabbits have teeth

AN: It’s taken me a while to get here, but here’s another instalment of our kidnapped penthouse wife and her three soft dark! Lovers. This part actually includes plot, which harks back to Loyaulte me lie, but don’t worry, there’s still smut. 

Beta’d by @kingofsorrow20

Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

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Master list | Series Master list

Summary: There’s something that’s got your three captors men worried, but they won’t tell you what it is, distracting you the only way they know how whenever you ask. When all becomes clear, how will you react?

Relationship: Soft! Dark! Steve x Soft! Dark! Bucky x Soft! Dark! Sam x Reader (Bunny)

Word Count: 3.3k

CW: Dub Con (due to universe), Stockholm syndrome, Explicit sexual content, Free use, Cum marking, references to rough sex, mild degradation, oral sex (m receiving), spanking, face slapping, super-soldier refractory period, Canon typical violence, Gun use, Minor character death.

Things had been relatively quiet since Steve’s outburst a few weeks ago, something you’d been glad off, but it was inevitable that it wouldn’t stay like that for long. 

Your three captors men were out - you didn’t know where because they hadn’t said and you hadn’t asked - and you were busying yourself with some baking in the kitchenette. They’d only been gone an hour, so you weren’t expecting them back yet, especially as it wasn’t like you could leave with the biometric locks in place, so it was startling when the door careened opened, bouncing off the wall. Steve stalked through, dragging Bucky behind him with an iron grip on his right bicep. Bucky was obviously not too put-out, otherwise he would have dug his heels in. 

Neither of them spoke, just headed off to one of their bedrooms as you looked on, confused. Sam followed them through the door, pulling off his goggles and shedding his wing pack, dumping them down without ceremony. He crossed over to you, a serious look on his face.

“Sam? What’s going o-.” He moved behind you, as silent as the other two had been, and pushed you down and over the counter. His fingers, callused and rough, pushed up your robe and probed between your legs. Unsurprisingly, you were wet - a combination of the load that Bucky had deposited in you first thing this morning and the fact that your body seemed to be fully attuned to your situation, experiencing a Pavlovian style response to being touched by any (or all) of the three of them. 

Without preamble, he freed himself from his tac suit and sunk into your cunt, his hips pressing up against your ass, before starting up a leisurely pace, an arm curled almost tenderly around your waist. Your own hands gripped the counter and your throat let out pleasured moans and sighs, sounds that were stark in comparison to what you could hear coming from the other room. Bucky’s cries, which didn’t sound quite as ecstasy filled as your own, rang out through the apartment.

“It’s not like I don’t like it rough,” Sam commented, unprompted. “I do, but there’s a difference between rough and rough, yanno?” He ground against you and you let out an unrestrained moan as you nodded. “At least with there being two of them, they can take their frustrations out on each other and be healed by tomorrow. And you can keep me company until neither of us need to fear for our unenhanced bodies.”

“But what’s gotten Steve so mad?” you asked tentatively between Sam’s thrusts. His hand trailed down from your waist to where the pair of you were joined, his fingers toying with your clit.

“‘S nothin’ for you to concern yourself with, baby. You just keep doing what you do best. Take our cocks and make us feel good. It’s nice knowing you aren’t burdened with the things we are.”

He pulled you upright, pinning your back to his chest, and your head fell back onto his shoulder. His lips found your throat, his short beard scratching over the delicate skin as he sucked and nipped, hips still thrusting. You knew he was trying to distract you, and damn if he wasn’t doing a good job of it. You tightened around him as your pleasure built, his deft fingers driving you higher, until you clenched down hard, your body tensing as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you.

You were still dizzy from it when Sam turned you both away from the counter and pushed you down onto all fours on the kitchen floor. He immediately followed you down, sinking right back into you and pounding your cunt with a speed that made your teeth rattle as you clawed at the tiles.

“Yeah, you like it rough too, don’t you, bunny?” With a crack he spanked at your bare ass and then grabbed cruelly at the heated flesh, causing you to wail at a loud enough volume to challenge Bucky in the other room.

With a grunt, and a final few thrusts, he spilled into you, withdrawing at the last moment to pump twice over your warmed backside.

“Fucking beautiful. Stay like that for a bit, baby. I wanna admire my handiwork.”

You settled down on your forearms, naked ass still in the air and tried not to think about what you must look like with cum over your ass and dribbling out of your pussy.

The next morning you woke to the sound of the front door closing, and the muffled voices of Steve and Sam conversing with someone you didn’t recognise. Was it a woman?

Climbing carefully out of bed you tiptoed across the bedroom and opened the door. However, you only managed to see through the thin gap for a few seconds before it was quickly pushed closed. All you saw was the back of Steve’s head and a flash of red hair.

“Нет, Банни. Это не для тебя. Возвращайся в постель.”

Bucky’s right hand held the door shut, but his left arm had snaked around your waist, his cool fingers splayed over your stomach. You twisted in his grip to pout up at him.

“I don’t want to go back to bed. Who is that? No-one ever visits here.”

“Никто не важен.”

He bent down to capture your lips, but you pressed a hand against his chest.

“Not important? Bullshit. I know something’s going on. And I deserve to know what.”

With superhuman speed, Bucky grasped your jaw in his right hand and gave your head a little jerk.

“Перестань быть своевольный и делай то, что тебе говорят”

You scowled at him, not doing anything to combat his accusation of your brattiness, but he just scowled back before picking you up and crossing back over to the bed. He’d been with you last night, fucking you to exhaustion, before pulling you close in a surprisingly sweet way and holding you as you’d slept. However, he obviously wasn’t done with you because when he put you down he pushed you to your knees.

Bucky didn’t need to say anything. Even if you were unused to his and the others habits and wants, his semi erect cock, two inches from your face was more than enough instruction for you. You placed your hands on his thighs, feeling the rough hair under your palms, and took him into your mouth.

You looked up at him and felt a surge of pride at the way his breath caught in his throat, before his hands came to rest on your head and he started to thrust into your wet warmth.

He started slow, like always, savouring the feeling of coming to full hardness inside your mouth, but in no time at all he was abusing your throat, forcing you to take the full length of him until your eyes watered and your head spun, before pulling back to allow air to rush into your tortured lungs.

Your pussy gushed with arousal, and you still hated yourself for getting off on being treated like this - for accepting the safety and shelter these three men could provide and paying them back with your body and pliancy. The old you would be furious at your acquiescence, but she’d probably also be dead. 

Above you, Bucky was letting out those small noises that signalled he was nearing his orgasm, so you pulled out all the stops, pressing your tongue to the underside of his cock and moving one of your hands to fondle his balls and press up behind them. When he pulled back to let you breathe, you dragged as much air into your lungs as possible, knowing this would be the last chance you’d get until he came. You had no wish to pass out this early in the morning.

His hips snapped, piston-like, as he fucked your face, and there were dark spots clouding your vision when he eventually came with a shout, spilling down your throat. The world came back into focus as he withdrew slowly, slate-blue eyes fixed on the ribbons of spit and cum that joined the pair of you as they stretched and then snapped.

The super soldier serum gave both him and Steve extreme endurance and short refractory periods, so the fact that Bucky’s cock was still fully hard was no surprise to you. His gaze shifted to you, almost dispassionately, before he sat down on the edge of the bed. 

“Сидеть. Ехать.” he commanded, and you pulled yourself up with your grip on his broad thighs. Two steps and you were straddling his lap, then with a change of grip, you were sinking down onto his cock, letting your eyes roll back as you enjoyed the stretch and the feeling of fullness.

A gentle, at least for him, slap to your cheek brought you out of your pleasured stupor, and you began to lever yourself up and down. Bucky’s hands curled around your hips, gripping tightly, and you couldn’t hold back a moan at his domineering treatment. Your own hands took hold of his shoulders, allowing you to move easier and he ducked his head to suck and bite meanly at your breasts.

Your cunt fluttered, your engorged clit rubbing against the rough thatch of hair at the base of him, and more salacious moans fell from your lips until you came with a loud cry.

In response, the least communicative of your lovers took over, his hands now moving you atop him, using you like a living cock sleeve until he too came with a grunt and ragged cry.

As you drifted off, your sweat covered body plastered to his, you realised he’d successfully distracted you from whatever was going on, out in the main part of the apartment.

A few days later you were enjoying one of those rare times where none of the men were making use of you, and you were sitting on the sofa, legs curled under you, as you read a book. You hadn’t realised how much you’d missed reading until you’d been brought here and it became one of the few hobbies you could indulge in. 

It was mid afternoon, and Steve and Sam had been out for most of the morning - some kind of meeting as they hadn’t gone in their full tac gear, although it hadn’t escaped you that Steve had still taken his shield. Bucky had taken you to the bathroom, and made you warm his cock in the deep tub as you’d washed his hair. Afterwards he’d risen straight up with you in his arms, water streaming off the pair of you, and wedged you against the wall, fucking up into you until you’d both come twice. You’d then both settled down for a nap, and that’s where you’d left him - snoozing away, looking almost innocent - when you’d woken up an hour ago. 

When you’d made your way into the lounge you’d noticed that the other two must be back - the Shield was hung up by the door, and both their pairs of shoes had been discarded. They must have been in the other bedrooms, either separate or together, but if they’d wanted you, they would have come looking.

You were two chapters down when Steve appeared. He smiled gently at you, although it didn’t meet his eyes, before he came to join you, settling down onto the sofa cushions and letting out a sigh. Instinctively, you put your book to the side and your hands moved to his fly, but he halted you, by capturing both your wrists in one of his hands.

“No,” he said, and you cocked your head at him, searching his face for an explanation. “Believe it or not,” he continued with a wry chuckle, placing your hands back on your own lap, “I don’t always want to have sex.”

“Could have fooled me,” you replied, teasingly.

“Yeah, I deserve that. But in my defence, I am sharing a space with three very attractive people. You can’t blame me. However, I would like to hold you, if that’s alright.”

“You’ve never asked my permission before.” Your censuring response left your mouth unbidden, but you still climbed into his lap, allowing him to wrap his thick arms around you. He buried his face into your neck, breathing you in. 

“Hmph…” was Steve’s own reply before he lapsed into silence. You cradled his head and stroked his hair as you let your mind wander. This was totally new territory for the pair of you. Both Sam and Bucky had their affectionate moments with you, but Steve was far more stand-offish. Was this change in behaviour linked to whatever it was that they didn’t want you to know about? Was their reticence to tell you linked to a need to protect you, or because they still didn’t trust you? In truth, the latter was a fair consideration. You were still confused yourself, constantly torn between fully accepting your new life and wanting to escape your gilded cage because it was still a cage.

“Steve-.” You’d decided to voice your concerns, hopefully use this quiet moment to get some answers, but suddenly the door burst open, a group of what appeared to be guards or soldiers flooding in, followed by a tall man in a black trench coat, a shaved, bald head and an eye patch. Before Steve could put you aside and stand, three guns were pointed at him.

There were loud shouts, and Bucky and Sam skidded in from the bedrooms on opposite sides of your apartment, the former still naked, but seemingly uncaring of that fact. Multiple guns were also trained on them in an instant, and both of the men flashed Steve a look. He replied by holding up a cautioning hand, halting them although they still stood tensed and ready to fight.

The man in the coat stalked forward. “And there I was, thinking that you’d lost all sense, Rogers.”

Steve’s arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer. “Fury,” he said in acknowledgment, but there was clearly no deference in his tone.

“I’m not a stupid man. I know what you’ve been planning, and have decided it’s time to remind you who’s in charge here.”

“Any planning was only as a direct response to attempts to hurt me and mine, Director. I don’t like bullies, remember.”

Fury snorted and moved even closer, absolutely confident in the fact he had the upper hand.

“That’s rich, you know that? So narcissistic that you don’t even realise you’ve become the thing you profess to hate.”

You could feel the tension in Steve’s body, and you felt a frisson of fear, something you hadn’t felt so keenly since the day you’d been taken.

“And let’s face it, Captain, if I did want to hurt you, I’d go after the weakest link in your little pack.” He stopped right in front of you, looking down at you with condescension. “You leave her here, alone, for hours on end, while you're out, plotting your take over. I could have hit you hardest at any point I wanted. Why go after the highly trained and the super-powered when there’s an easier, softer target.”

You ground your teeth and glared up at the person who was apparently in charge of the entire conclave. Steve, Bucky and Sam may have kidnapped you, may have heavily persuaded you to take your place within their relationship, but they had never treated you as less because of your apparent physical weakness. And this man - Fury - didn’t seem to have really thought about what your life had been like before you were brought here - how you’d survived in the outland for as long as you had. You may look weak and were undoubtedly not a match to any of them, even Sam, but you weren’t a wilting flower to be easily trampled.

You glanced around, properly taking in the scene, the placement of soldiers relative to you and your lovers. It was them who were targeted. Not a single gun was trained upon you, non-threatening as you apparently were.

“So,” Steve asked tersely, “Where does that leave us? Where do we go from here?”

“You? Well you go nowhere. You, Barnes and Wilson stay right here, drowning in pools of your own blood. If you’re not going to respect the chain of command, then I’m going to remove you from it. As for me, I’m leaving with this sweet thing in tow. Looks like she’d be good breeding stock and she’s already broken in.”

You were moving before Steve could flinch, a snarl on your lips. “Not fucking likely!” You reached forward, under Fury’s coat to the pistol holstered at his hip. Your thumb flipped the safety and you pulled the trigger as you pressed the muzzle against his ribcage, angled slightly upwards. “Softer target, my ass.”

Fury’s mouth dropped open in shock and for a moment nobody moved, and then he coughed, blood welling up out of his mouth and he dropped to the floor.

Steve twisted on the sofa, sending you careening to the side, rolling over the arm and onto the floor in a tangle of your own limbs, the pistol still in your hand. The sound of gunfire filled the air, and the pained sounds of people being hit. However amongst that were also the sounds of bullets ricocheting off metal - presumably Bucky’s left arm and Steve’s shield - you knew both Sam and Bucky could use it, because the three often talked tactics on an evening, you sitting on one of their laps or on your knees between a set of thick thighs.

As the sounds of fighting died down, the reality of what you’d done began to sink in. You’d killed the leader of the New York Conclave. The director of Shield and de facto overseer of the Avengers. Your hands began to shake and the gun rattled in your grasp.

“Hey. Bunny. It’s alright.” A large hand came down over the one that had a deathgrip on the pistol, steadying it, before the other hand eased it from you. You looked up, wide-eyed into Steve’s cerulean gaze. He smiled down at you, a true smile this time. “You did it, sweetheart. You saved us all. We’re so proud of you. Come on, up you get.”

Steve helped to pull you to your feet from down the side of the couch, and you took in the scene around you. There was blood and bodies everywhere, including tell-tale splatters over the three men. You even saw some on the edge of the shield, now held in Bucky’s loose grip. Your legs buckled and bile rose up in your throat. Immediately, Steve swept you up and he strode over the corpses towards his bedroom.

“Sam,” he said over his shoulder. “Call Nat and Barton. Tell them it finally happened and get them to help clean up. Quietly. We’ll need to meet with Tony, Pepper and Rhody in the morning, but we need to look after our girl first. I’ll run her a bath while you take out the trash, then you can both join us.” He returned his gaze to you. “You’re truly our equal now, sweetheart. And when we take over the running of this place in the next few days, you’ll be the most powerful woman here.” He ducked his head and captured your lips in a passionate kiss. “First though, we’re going to show you how grateful we are, and ruin you again in the process. Our fierce bunny.”

Bucky says

Нет, Банни. Это не для тебя. Возвращайся в постель.  - No, Bunny. That is not for you. Come back to bed

Никто не важен. - No one important.

“Перестань быть своевольный и делай то, что тебе говорят. - Stop being bratty, and do what you’re told.

Сидеть. Ехать. - Sit. Ride.

Tag list: @christywrites, @doasyoudesireandlive, @goldylions, @galactusdevourerofworlds,

@apenny4thots, @endlesstwanted, @king814318

@km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989, @kombatfather1796

[kitten4sannie]

THE VOICESSSSSSSSSSS

[seiwas]

HI MY BELOVED ANGEL!!! i am sending u mattsun + campfire as well as kisses n hugs <33

SAINTTT hello 🥺 thank you for sending a prompty!! 🥹 idt i've ever written mattsun fully before so this is something new!

help me get back into the writing groove! send me a character + any word and i'll write a short blurb about it!

contains: exes, stranded-y situation, feelings are complicated, some expletives

mattsun + campfire

"i told you we should've brought the spare—"

"yeah, let me go back in time for a sec and do just that."

"asshole."

lesson #1: nothing good ever happens when you're stuck in a car with your ex on the way to somewhere remote.

you blame iwaizumi for this one. who the fuck chooses to spend their birthday weekend in the fucking wilderness?

(okay, you don't actually think it's so bad. to be fair, he did plan this a year ago. and it did sound like a good idea. then. at the time. anywhere with the boys was always guaranteed fun―at least, until you and matsukawa broke up.)

"can you pass me the flashlight?" he points at the backpack behind you. when you hand it over, your fingers brush over his as he takes it away from you.

and you hate it, because―

lesson #2: you should never be alone with your ex when you still have feelings for them.

you'd agreed to take two cars to the camping spot: iwaizumi's with oikawa and hanamaki and matsukawa's with you. there was no way you'd fit in one, and hanamaki ultimately decided to ride with iwaizumi because, "you and mattsun have shit to sort out," he'd said.

with night setting and the two-hour headstart they managed to get ahead of you, the best thing you and matsukawa can do is to set up camp temporarily and wait for them to come back for you come sunrise.

you sigh.

leaves crack underneath your feet as you maneuver around your camping space. the light from matsukawa's flashlight tells you where he is, just a bit deeper in the forestry as he looks for wood to help set up the fire.

you unload the car in the meantime, bringing out some snacks and sleeping bags while waiting.

matsukawa eventually comes back with arms full of wood, and you help in whatever way you can, clearing the space and fetching more twigs when needed.

the entire car ride here had been quiet, so it's not surprising that this entire process has been equally as silent. until―

"did you already pull out your tent?" he asks, half of his body disappearing into the trunk of the car.

"huh?" you go closer, "i only brought out the sleeping bags."

then he sighs, ducking out from the trunk with a hand on his hip, "we only have one tent."

"what?"

"makki must have gotten yours with his when he decided to move cars."

his hand runs through his hair, a habit you know well. it lights up all sorts of weird feelings in your tummy

you don't know how to feel―

"i can sleep in the car."

―but you know that you definitely don't want him to do that. all things considered, you were friends first. and you've both been trying to be friends again since the breakup. you wouldn't want to cause him discomfort like that.

so, with a deep breath, you say, "it's okay, we can just share."

"are you sure?" he stares at you.

you nod.

after setting up the tent, you eat a few energy bars and clean up from the day's events. the campfire provides ample enough heat, but with how fast the flames are burning, you're doubtful it'll last the two of you the entire night.

it’s much later on, past midnight, that your doubts are proven right when you and matsukawa are cramped together in a tent made for one. it started to get cold a few minutes ago, and you've found yourself inching closer and closer to the warmth you’ve gotten used to laying against for the past two years.

he's only pretending to be asleep, you know that much, too. the rise and fall of his chest is hardly there; you can see it, how he's holding his breath being this close to you.

"issei," you whisper.

he opens his eyes, eyelids lifting lazily as he meets your stare. the vibration of his hum reverberates to you.

"it's cold."

for a moment, your stomach drops at the thought that he could ignore you; how it would make perfect sense for him to. you broke up with him after all, and he doesn't owe you anything, much less favors as intimate as this one.

but he closes the already dwindling gap between you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulls you closer. it's near, far too near for exes to be―noses touching and all.

"warmer?" his voice comes out hoarser through the whisper.

you nod, your head shifting up and down—which, truly, is where you ultimately fuck up. you feel it, a little chapped but still pliant against your lips.

in your carelessness, you accidentally brush your lips against his, the sensation alone surprising you enough to inch your head back as you mutter your apologies.

"sorry? really?" he asks, eyes half-lidded still as he chuckles.

his question settles into the small space you're in.

your vision trails from his eyes, down to the slope of his nose, until it lands on his lips again. a little split like you've always known, but still your favorite. still the only lips you want against yours.

when you lean in again, you know you're fucked, because―

lesson #3: the number one rule is that exes shouldn't kiss each other anymore.

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Jilted" - part 2

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Tags: boyfriend's dad au, left at the altar, father-in-law, hurt/comfort, forbidden attraction, silver fox Steve, age gap, size kink, strength kink, Dom/sub elements, daddy kink, fingering, oral sex, grinding, sex, dirty talk, cheating

Summary: You may be a jilted bride, but you don't feel like one for long when Steve soothes the hurt in unexpected ways.

Part 2 - "Taken to Bed by a Man" (Wait! I haven't read part 1 yet!)

Only hours ago, you were walking to the altar to marry a boy, and now you’re being taken to bed by a man—that very boy’s father. The reality of it becomes very clear as Steve walks into his bedroom with you in his arms and sets you down. Your toes dig into the room’s soft carpet.

“Turn around,” he whispers.

You obey, shivering as he steps in close behind. You can hear his breathing, can practically feel his desire for you. Somehow, he seems more tangible than he ever has before. More real, more solid, and you’re painfully aware of how close he is. “S-steve,” you breathe. “I—”

“You are so beautiful,” he murmurs, cutting you off. “I’m sorry I never told you. A woman like you should hear it every day.”

You want to say something, tell him that this is wrong, you can’t do this. He’s … he’s Pat’s father, decades older than you. He’s Captain America, for Christssakes. You shouldn’t want him the way you do. And now he’s got you doubting everything, every interaction you’ve ever had with him, every lingering glance, every brief touch, every polite word. From that very first time Pat brought you home to meet his father, the famed “man out of time.”

Steve doesn’t age normally, that much is obvious. You know about the serum, know that he was in his late twenties when they defrosted him back in the ‘nineties. And thirty years later, he doesn’t look as old as he should. His body and face are still those of a forty year old, betrayed only by the edges of his eyes, by the grey creeping into his hair and beard. He’s a total daddy, a thought that you’ve been shamefully repressing for the past two years. You’ve been so embarrassed by it, thought you were being such a creep, thinking about Pat’s father that way. Has Steve really been looking at you too all this time? You open your mouth to say something, offer some protest or reason why you can’t—

“Ask me to take your dress off.”

Your whole body clenches at how deep his voice is, how close he’s speaking to your ear. You tremble, able to feel the heat of his body behind you. “Steve, I …”

“Ask me,” he whispers, fingers skimming over your neck and shoulders. “Come on, Honey. Ask me. I promise I’ll only make you do it once.”

God. You manage to choke out an overwhelmed, “Please,” and thankfully it seems to be enough for him. His fingers find the laces of your dress and begin to delicately undo them. He goes slowly, almost like he’s relishing the act of removing your wedding gown. He peels off the dress that his son was meant to remove from your body that night, the fabric falling to the floor in a quiet ‘whoosh’, and his hands landing on your waist.

“Sweetheart,” he breathes, sounding amazed. You whimper and try to move away, skittish, but he stops you, pulling you back firmly against his body with a tut. “You’re okay,” he soothes, arms wrapping around you to hold you close and calm you down. “Shhh. I got you.”

“S-steve,” you breathe, overwhelmed by how wrong this is, how turned on you are when he touches you. “We can’t, I shouldn’t.”

“Why shouldn’t you?” his hot breath fans out against your ear, then he starts kissing your neck and his hands slide covetously over your body. “Wanted you for so long, Sweetheart. Wanted to give you what you were aching for.” You whimper and try to pull away, but his hand slides over your tummy and pulls you back. “It’s okay. I’ve known. You think I didn’t know? Think I didn’t see you looking at me?”

“I – I didn’t …”

“Shh. There’s a girl. Let me touch you.” He’s so effortlessly strong and it feels so good to be held still by him. He rubs your belly and his other hand slides up your ribcage. “So beautiful.” He cups your breast, fingers dipping under the cup of your bra. “God, Honey. Look at you.”

You look down and exhale shakily, your cunt pulsing at the sight of his huge hand against your skin and the delicate lace of your bridal underwear. “Steve,” you breathe, shaking from nerves and arousal. “I want …”

“What do you want?” he whispers, lips trailing over your neck. He places a kiss on your pulse point, feels how fast your heart is beating. “Want me to take control?” he offers softly, almost kindly, like he can sense how overwhelmed you are. “I can do that, Sweetheart. Make it easy for you, make all the decisions. Is that what you want, hm? Want me to lay you out on this bed and do all the work?”

It’s pathetic, how fast you whine and nod, wanting that so badly. “Yes,” you say, grabbing at his hands where they’re feeling you up. “Please, Steve. Yes.”

He chuckles, low and with just a touch of condescension, the sound going straight to your core. You squeeze your thighs together to try and get some relief, but it doesn’t do any good. “Come on, then,” Steve says, moving you with capable hands. He guides you over and pushes on your shoulders until he’s got you sitting on the edge of the bed. You’re left staring at him, standing there in front of you in his tux, looking obscenely handsome, confident, and—oh …

His cock isn’t even fully hard yet, and it’s still a healthy bulge at the front of his slacks. You feel your cheeks heat as you can’t help but stare at it. It is right there, after all. You flush all the harder when he notices you looking and chuckles at you. One of those enormous hands brushes up against the front of his pants, and you nearly moan at the sight of him touching himself.

“Don’t worry, Sweetheart,” he purrs. “You’ll get it. But first …” he sinks down to kneel in front of you, reaching for the straps of your bra. You tense when he starts to pull them off your shoulders, moving to reach behind yourself and unhook the bra, but he hushes you and stills your hands. “Shh, no. Let me do it, Honey. I want to do it.” He gets your bra off and tosses it aside, groaning as he kneels in front of you and looks his fill. “God, you got no idea,” he murmurs, sounding distracted by what he’s seeing. “No idea how long I’ve been wanting this.” His hands make an abortive move, as if he doesn’t know where or how to touch you first. “Shit, lookit you.”

“How long?” you ask on impulse, surprising even yourself. His eyes shoot up to your face, and you swallow heavily under his stare. “H-how long, have you wanted to?” you breathe.

He smiles, then his eyes trail back down and he sighs happily. He reaches out and just sort of … pets the tips of your breasts, brow pinching with want as he watches your nipples harden into firm peaks. “Jesus.” He shakes his head, like he can’t believe he’s getting to touch you. “Oh, Doll ... Since I met you.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” he says distractedly, big hands cupping your tits, making them look small and delicate against his rough palms. You’ve never noticed how masculine his hands are …

“S-since—”

“Since the first time you came in my house looking like you do, yes,” he growls, giving your breasts a squeeze. “Shit.”

His soft cursing makes you flush, feeling warm and exposed and needy and seen. “Steve,” you say, voice warbling with audible worry. You wait until his blue eyes come up to meet yours—God, are his eyes ever blue. You swallow heavily.

“What is it, Sweetheart?”

You chew your lip. “If we do this …” you fret, thinking about the wedding, about Patrick, about how fucked up this is going to make your life.

Steve’s hands smooth over your thighs. “Do you really want him back?” he asks you—knowingly. He meets your gaze without doubt, shaking his head the barest bit. “No going back,” he murmurs. You whimper, and he hushes you. “I know, Honey, I know it’s scary. But you can trust me.”

Delicately, he reaches for the clips of your garters and begins undoing them, one at a time. You’re stuck watching, helpless, as he looks you in the eye and gently eases your stockings down your legs. They’re the real deal: silk, seamed, non-elastic, and a strange feeling rolls through you as you watch Steve’s fingers move over them deftly and you realize that he likely knows what he’s doing because these were the sort that girls wore back in his day.

“Don’t worry, Angel.” He kisses the inside of a knee. “This isn’t just for tonight. I have every intention of keeping you.” His eyes flash upwards again, and you feel heat course through you at his face being right there between your legs … And at his words. He sees your face pinch with doubt and he nods. “Yeah. I told you you’re mine, now. I don’t say things like that unless I mean ‘em.”

“But …” you falter, not sure what you’re even planning to say. But I’m supposed to be engaged to your son. But I’m supposed to be married to him. But people will know, people will—

He slides his hands over your hips and starts edging your panties down, maintaining that all-consuming eye contact as he does it. “But what?” he purrs. “You worried about what people will say?”

You shake your head in denial, but the truth is that you are. Buzzfeed and CNN had been at that cathedral, goddamnit, and there’ll be articles tomorrow about what happened. What on earth will the headlines say when word gets out that you’ve traded in Captain America’s son for the Captain himself?

“You worry too much,” Steve says, easing your panties down your legs and guiding you to let them slip from your feet. He lifts your calf and kisses the inside of your ankle, smirking. “I’m Captain America, Everybody loves me. And I’m allowed to have nice things.” His gaze slides down to the vee of your legs, and you watch as his eyes rapidly darken to something greedy and ravenous. He makes a gruff sound in his throat, utterly possessive, and the next thing you know he’s shoving your knees further apart and forcing his way in, arms hooking underneath your thighs and wrapping around to hold onto you.

You squeak as his broad shoulders push your legs apart and you tip backwards. You catch yourself on your hands and prop yourself back up in time to watch the inaugural press of his mouth against your sex. And oh, it feels almost as good as it looks. You inhale sharply and your hips jump up of their own volition. He’s only pressed a chaste kiss against you, right up high on your mound, but the sight of Steve Rogers’ face between your legs, his head of silver-blond hair and his dark lashes resting against his cheeks as he noses against your most intimate place … it’s enough to have you clenching hard on nothing, slicking up so much that you can feel it getting messy and wet.

You whimper in arousal and impulsively reach with one of your hands to try and hold his head. “Jesus, Steve,” you whisper, turned on beyond belief. It only gets worse when he looks up at you again. You exhale shakily, belly heaving at the way his eyes scald you in their intensity.

“Tell me,” he rasps. “Tell me what you want me to do with my mouth.”

Jesus fucking Christ, that’s not fair. You whine and pant down at him. “Nnn, Steve …” You can’t. You can’t.

“Come on, Sweetheart,” he coaxes, voice like sin. “I know what I promised. And I meant it. I’ll take control. I’ll make it easy for you, and so goddamn good you won’t remember your name.” He turns his face and kisses the crease of your thigh, so close to where you want it. “But I want to hear you say it, first. Please. Just do that for me, Babydoll, and then I’ll make you feel so good.”

You swallow thickly, turned on beyond belief and knowing that if you want him, you’re going to have to put your big girl panties on and do this one thing for him. So, despite the fact that most of your brain cells have liquified and run out through your ears at this point—and despite the fact that you are not one for dirty talking in the bedroom—you look him right in the eyes and croak out a breathless, “Kiss my pussy, Steve. Put your mouth on me and lick it, suck—ogn …” You cut off in a moan when he seals his mouth right over your clit and sucks hard. “Oh my god.”

“Mmhm,” he groans. He sucks your folds into his mouth and flattens his tongue, rubbing it firmly against your clit and working methodically at it until it’s puffy and swollen. “Mmm. Mmph.” His sounds of enjoyment only make it filthier, and you can’t hold back your own choked off little moans and gasps at the eager way his arms grab onto you and haul you in for more, the way he purposefully grinds his face against you and uses his nose to give you more pressure from above your clit.

You wind up sobbing and tossing your head back as you feel yourself gush, and for a long moment you don’t even realize how much you're humping his face, rubbing yourself off against him, trying to get more of that sucking mouth and that lashing, sinful tongue. “Oh, shit. Holy shit …”

You should be mortified by your own desperation, by the sounds you’re making. Maybe you would be, but for the way that Steve responds to it. He growls and jerks you in harder against him, grinding his face into your cunt, sucking and slurping and then hurriedly freeing up one hand to push his fingers into you.

You cry out sharply as he tries to start with two but quickly halts when he can tell that it’s too much. He softens and slows down, kissing your clit in gentle apology, slipping one finger inside your drenched pussy instead. “There we go,” he hums in response to the pleasured sigh you give and looks up at you while he works his finger gently. “That feel good, Sugar?”

You’re gonna die from the fucking pet names, and that is perfectly okay. You nod dumbly down at him, eyes glued to his gaze once again as he fingers you. “Y-yeah,” you say shakily. “Steve …”

He kisses the hood of your clit and drags his lips over it. “Has it been awhile?” he asks, with all the tender concern of a lover who wants to please.

It makes your belly swirl just as hard as his mouth on you had, and you whimper and nod, working your hips down a little against his finger. “I h-haven’t,” you stutter, “Nn … not, oh, not in a while.” You don’t elaborate, and you sure as shit aren't going to admit it now, but the truth is you’ve been avoiding sex with Patrick the closer the big day got; telling yourself that it was to make the wedding night more special, when in reality you suspect it was something else entirely. You whimper and shake your head shyly, and Steve seems to understand that you don’t want to talk about it.

“Shh,” he soothes, kissing your thigh again as he keeps working his hand against you so gently. “That’s okay. We’ll take it slow. We’re not in any rush, ain’t that right?”

You can only whimper and nod, and he coos and smiles at you and how you’ve gone nonverbal already. “Yeah,” he purrs, smiling. “Don’t even worry about it, Babygirl. Daddy’s gonna treat this pussy right. Gonna make you feel so nice, get you real good and relaxed, teach you things you didn’t even know you could do.”

You cry out at how excruciatingly intimate those words are, at the way he kisses your hyper-sensitized clit and changes the angle of his hand, finger dragging up against your walls slower and more purposefully and firm. Your eyes clamp shut and you toss your head back with a pitiful keen. “St-eve, oh, please, please …”

“Mmhm.” He keeps going, still gentle but picking up on what you like, figuring out what makes you get louder and squirm harder. He fucks you on his hand and nurses at your clit in a constant, pulsing rhythm—steady, steady—reading your body’s cues and committing himself to the task, breaking away every once and awhile just to murmur little things against your cunt:

“That’s it, Sweetheart, just like that. Such a good girl. Keep going baby, yes. Let it come, let it happen for me.”

When you get close he stops talking, sealing his mouth to your pleasure and humming his praise straight into your skin instead. And it’s so good, building and building, and he’s doing it just right, holy fuck …

You fall to your back on the bed, Steve following right after you as it makes your pelvis tilt up, never breaking contact, never faltering as your hands scrabble and claw at his hair and your cries get louder and sharper. He holds you down as you start to thrash, desperate for the edge you can feel so close, so close …

Your legs wind up around his head and your heels dig wildly into his back, and still he doesn’t falter, grunting and slurping against you, giving you what you need so good that you sob.

“Oh please, please, Steve! I’m gonna cum, I’m–I’m gonna … ohhh …”

He groans right along with you as it happens, keeping that same exquisite pressure and pace in such an ungodly competent way that you just about scream from how grateful you are. He’s perfect. You sob as the pleasure crests and wanes so sharply, leaving you trembling and gasping breathless little “thank you’s” at him over and over again as he eases off and climbs up your body.

“Shh, sh sh. There we go. Aww, I know, Angel, I know. It’s okay. Did that just feel so good?”

He coos a rhetorical litany of gentle praise at you as he climbs up and rearranges your body fully on the bed, telling you how beautiful you are, how good, how much he wants you. His hands are everywhere, attentive and comforting, petting your legs and smoothing over your belly and chest as he gazes down at you adoringly. It’s romantic, intimate, and like nothing you ever had with Patrick.

You sigh happily and whisper Steve’s name instead, which only seems to please him more. He sidles up alongside you and slots one thick thigh between your legs. That’s when you realize that he’s still completely clothed and you make a tiny noise of protest. Though there is something deliciously dirty about him clothed and you bare, the fabric of his tux over the firm muscle of his thigh pressing up against your soaked core, you still want to feel him. “Steve,” you breathe, pulling at his shirt impatiently. “You too, please.”

He chuckles and nods, hushing your protests as he continues to luxuriate in smoothing his hands over your body. “Hang on, Sweetheart. I will, I will. Let me do this. I’ve always wanted to. Always. Don’t make me rush.”

“Steve,” you sigh.

“Shhh. Good girl. Just let me have this first.” He continues on, heedless of his own body and fully intent on yours, keeping you on that cloud of hazy, post-orgasmic pleasure.

It’s as he’s hovering over you like that, pressing you into the sheets and kissing tender affection all over your face—worshiping you, for lack of a better word—that you realize:

He’s treating you like a groom treats his bride.

Epilogue imagine/outline

Masterlist

If you liked what you read and feel so inclined, please consider dropping a tip in the Kofi🍵 cup!

This has been a fill for:

@steverogersbingo

Card: #sb3088 - stark-contrast

Square D2: "I've always wanted to do that"

@allcapsbingo

Card: sarahyellow AC1105

Square: FREE SPACE (wedding night)

@marvel-smash-bingo

Card: sarah-writes-stucky

Square N4: daddy kink

[rhysazriel]

Smoke & Light Part 2 SNIPPET

A/N: THIS HAS NOT BEEN PROOF READ I JUST WANTED TO QUICKLY GIVE YOU GUYS A SNIPPET SO I COULD CONTINUE WRITING JKSJDKJS THE FULL PART TWO IS COMING TOMORROW!!

//

His first stop was to Sean, a lean Asian guy that had been buying off Azriel for two years now. He was decent enough, never tried to haggle or complain about the prices. They shared a mutual respect and minimal words were shared when Az handed him a Q and Sean gave 140 in one swift motion. 

And just like that, Azirel moved onto the next.

And then another. 

And another. 

Until he was waiting at the Old Tower and watching your silhouette approach the Mustang. You entered the car just like you always had done, though you didn’t meet his gaze this time. Instead, you kept your line of view ahead. Your hair obstructed the side of your face, effectively shielding you from his prying eyes. 

“Sorry I’m a little late.” 

Azriel absolutely did not like the quake in your voice as you spoke, nor did he like the way you seemed to cower into your body and clothes. Clothes that didn’t seem to match your usual vibe—instead, the mismatched black sweatpants and bright pink puffer jacket gave off the impression you threw on whatever was around you. 

Somehow, Azriel still thought you made it look good. On you, the outfit looked both planned and effortless. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that that wasn’t the case. 

“You good?” he asked through the piercing silence. 

You hummed, twisting the bulky silver ring on your thumb. “Yeah, just tired.” You tried your hardest to offer a convincing smile as you turned to him, but Azriel noticed the way it didn’t meet your eyes—the eyes that appeared slightly bloodshot, though he had a suspicion it wasn’t from smoking.

Not wanting to press on the matter, Az opened the compartment and pulled out a baggie of your usual amount and kept it pinched between two scarred fingers. You reached for it, the cash in your other hand but he kept his grip tight. 

Azriel raised a brow. “You’re sure you’re alright?” 

You could see the concern flood his hazel eyes, and the sight pulled on your aching heartstrings. How could someone who was a virtual stranger care more for you than the ones who were much closer in your life?

You didn’t trust your words, so you nodded and he finally released his hold on the bag. “Alright,” Az sighed. “It’s a different strain than my usual stuff, so go a little lighter with it. It’s pretty strong.” 

You were incredibly thankful for the warning, though you couldn’t help feeling a little offended. Did he really think you were so naive and new to this world that you couldn’t handle a new strain at your usual strength (which, admittedly, was very weak) without greening out? 

But as quickly as that feeling rose, it faded. He was a dealer, afterall, and he couldn’t afford to lose business all because someone thought they knew better and had a bad trip. 

“Thank you,” you muttered out, already reaching for the handle when his ruggedly soft voice stopped you. 

“You wanna smoke before you go? I can drop you back after.” 

You whipped your head to him, blinking through slightly blurred vision. With a brow raised and widened eyes, your lips parted. “Together?”

A smile stretched across his full lips, one so full of charisma and keen interest that it awakened something deep in the pit of your stomach. Something you distinctly remember feeling the last time you saw him. 

“Why not?” 

You swallowed as your hand slowly fell from the handle and made its way back in your lap. Your smile morphed into a smirk that matched his and the air shifted into something unreadable. Something palpable but not quite real. 

“Really? Do you normally smoke with your clients?” 

His wicked grin widened. “I do with the cute ones.” 

You choked on a laugh, rolling your head back until it hit the headrest and Azriel didn’t think he’d ever seen or heard anything so fucking beautiful in his life. That laugh would haunt him in his dreams to a blissful paradise. 

“First I’m pretty, now I’m cute… what’s next?” 

Damn the rules he set himself. Damn the restrictions he forced when it came to someone who piqued his interest. It was about time Azriel took what he wanted for once. Even if that meant he started with no longer feeling guilty for flirting with you. 

Chewing at the inside of his cheek, Azriel started up the engine and shifted the gearstick. “Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.”

[violetregrets1837]

Okay so like while I still have the idea rattling loudly in my brain,

For my fellow x reader enojoyers, have we thought about meaner soulmate connections for the boys?

Like of course soulmate aus can have a variety of flavours, to sweet to spicy to oh my goodness I'm crying

BUT BUT BUT!!! I HAVE IDEAS FOR SOME MEAN SOULMATE CONNECTIONS❗️❗️❗️

Four: You can only see each other through mirrors >:)))))

It would always be a lovely little thing for the hero to see his soulmate, but after having to shatter that mirror, he wasn't sure if he could bring himself to take a single peak anymore.

Legend: You only meet each other in your dreams

I feel like this is obvious on why it's mean to Legend specifically. I love Koholint angst. What can I say?????

Wild: You gain the others injuries

Wild could easily guess the reason why he'd never be able to meet his soulmate. He was kept in the shrine of resurrection for 100 years following his death. But when he somehow gets a memory of when he finally learned about his soulmate connection, a papercut on his finger that he can't remember getting, a pit opens in his stomach as he realises. His soulmate didn't die just because of the calamity. They died because of him.

[risustravelogue]

NO BUT IMAGINE

TOUCHSTARVED WRIO MAKING LOVE TO YOU AFTER BEING LEFT ALONE FOR WEEKS OR EVEN MONTHS

AND THEN IT GETS INTENSE AS HE LOSES HIS SELF-CONTROL AND HJSDFJKFHKJSDFHKSJDGSEJBSKFD

BEST OF BOTH WORLDS IN ONE NIGHT YK /bonked x999

[allthosepeopleilovetofangirlover]

❤Steve Rogers Era Part : 3❤

Steve in his uniform🥹😍

[ouran-boytoy-fanfiction]

Sick of ouran x readers where reader is basically Haruhi. Also a lot of the time it's low-key making fun of the guests for going to the host club for the REASON IT EXISTS. good lord

[slightly-hellish]

So my hot-take fanon of the week is this.

A lot of people say Dabi/Touya does not want kids, because ✨daddy issues✨

I honestly believe the opposite, I think the compulsion to out do Endeavor includes the idea of having kids, he knows it’s not a good idea, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting it.

To be the dad he never had. He doesn’t know the first thing about parenting (obv) but he does know what not to do.

Not saying he would be the best Dad in the world but he would try his damndest. He would do everything he wished he could’ve done with his dad, giving his kid(s) a fun time while healing his own inner child.

He’d definitely be one of those dads that is like the wife/baby mama/ s/o has a adult child. He’d be just as dumb as the kids, and they’d all get in to trouble like ‘fuck mom is gonna kill me’ causing the kid(s) to giggle themselves half to death.

He wouldn’t care about how powerful their quirks were, or if they even had any, he’d love them no matter what and would in a second jump to burn the world for his family. The family he chose and that chose him.

just my two cents tho.

smutty p.s : totally has a breeding kink, man stuffs you like a Twinkie and you can’t tell me otherwise. possible breastfeeding kink, cus you know mans also has mommy issues. (same tho)

i’d literally die for him.

[dio-doflamingo]

Finding out all my jjk boos are born in my bday month is theeee best info ever because that practically means we were destined to be together

[late-to-the-party-81]

Guess what’s coming soon? 👀

Conclave Master List

You thought you'd been rescued by angels. It turned out they were demons. But what if you started to like being in hell?

This series is a Soft!Dark! Series and deals with adult themes

Not suitable for minors.

Find my main master list here

Behave 😭🍆🩸🌑

Here with us 😭🍆🌑

Loyaulte me Lie 😭🍆🌑

All for one and one for all 🍆🌑😭

Tit for tat 🍆🌑

[feshsticks]

Such Beastly Things clothing variants, bc inspiration hit me hard n fast tonight apparently lol. i'm lost deep in the sauce lads 😩😩

[nekoannie-chan]

Mirrors

Title: Mirrors.

Ship: Steve Rogers X Reader.

Word count: 237 words.

Rating: Mature.

Square: B4 Mirror sex.

Summary: You were curious of how you and Steve look when you two have sex.

Warnings/Tags: Smut, PWP, Mirror sex.

A/N: This is my entry to @allcapsbingo​ AC1078.

You can read it too on Ao3 and Wattpad.

@saiyanprincessswanie​

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any kind of permission that my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other's people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

Add yourself to my taglist here.

My other media where I publish:  Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter. 

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

Tags: @sinceimetyou​  @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad​ @navybrat817​ @angrythingstarlight​ @shield-agent78​ @charmed-asylum​ @pandaxnienke​ @real-fbi​ @smokeandnailz​  @white-wolf1940​ @tenaciousperfectionunknown​ @xoxonotme​ @bluemusickid​ @leyannrae​  @harrysthiccthighss​  @marvelatthisone  @caplanbuckybarnes @sapphire-rogers @lizzieolseniskinda @notyourtypicalrose​ @hallecarey1​ @nana1000night​ @talia-rumlow​ @writingshae​ @alexxavicry​  @azulatodoryuga​ @daemonslittlebitch​ @chaoticcollectivenightmare​ @endlesstwanted​

"Are you sure about this?" Steve asked.

"Sure, besides, it was your idea to try something new and different," you replied, unbuttoning his shirt.

"I was thinking of something different, but..."

"Shh, you'll like it, believe me, for your information, I like what I see," you put one of your fingers on his lips, you didn't want to keep talking.

Furtively, you saw one of the mirrors at the same time that you took off his shirt, although it had taken you some work to convince Steve to come to a hotel that had a room with several mirrors.

However, when you mentioned placing them in the bedroom you shared, he changed his mind. He didn't want others to know what you were doing, and it was obvious that they would notice the mirrors.

You continued kissing and taking off your clothes, slowly, at first Steve refused to look at the reflection in the mirror, he felt a little embarrassed.

But eventually, Steve looked up and saw his reflection in the mirror; he licked his lips, and he liked what he saw.

He lifted one of your legs, smirked as he saw in the reflection how you arched from pleasure, and carefully took your head so you could turn it and you could see too.

"Do you like it?"

You nodded slightly as you moaned again. Steve smiled again. It was definitely something you would do again.

[holylulusworld]

All Caps Bingo masterlist

A/N: Written for @allcapsbingo​

What’s to come: (Please consider most of the stories are not available yet)

This bingo is dedicated to the three caps. Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson

B1: Shy Guy (1) - Past (Bucky Barnes x Reader): AU: Neighbours

B2: ??? (??? x ???): "Not without you.”

B3: ??? (??? x ???): Scent Play

B4: ??? (??? x ???): Exes to lovers

B5: ??? (??? x ???): Loneliness

I1: Unwanted mate (Alpha!Steve Rogers x Omega(fem)!Reader x Alpha!Bucky Barnes): Knotting

I2:  ??? (??? x ???): Come play

I3: ??? (??? x ???): Phil Coulson

I4:  ??? (??? x ???): New York City

I5:  ??? (??? x ???): Serum-induced rage

N1: ??? (??? x ???): Recalibrating the arm

N2: Neighborhood watch (Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes): Established relationship

N3: Worst minions ever (Steve Rogers x Villain!Reader): Free Space

N4: ??? (??? x ???): Nightmares

N5: ??? (??? x ???): Slick

G1: ??? (??? x ???): Fleshlight

G2: ??? (??? x ???): Claim fuck

G3: Get off my lawn (Alpha (Teacher) Bucky Barnes x Omega (Teacher) Reader): AU: Teacher

G4: Breathless (CEO!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader): “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

G5: ??? (??? x ???): Horoscopes

O1: Falling leaves (Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader): Pining

O2: ??? (??? x ???): The 2000S

O3: ??? (??? x ???): Sharing clothes

O4: ??? (??? x ???): Presenting

O5: ??? (??? x ???): Clint Barnes

[mc-pumpkin]

WHY ARE PEOPLE ARE BLAZING X READER FICS ONTO MY DASH!!!!!!!! I WILL BLAST YOU WITH MY ARO BEAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!! EXPLODE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!