#I also want to violently sink my teeth into something but that's violence and not like... related to this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cherienymphe · 4 years ago

Text

Twice Mine (Stucky x Reader)

WARNINGS: DUB-CON, mentions of NON-CON, vampire!Stucky, jealous!Stucky, violence, toxic relationships, murder, animal cruelty, bloodplay

➥ this is the much anticipated final part to Twice Bitten and Twice Burned

�� I had a lot of fun with this series, and I hope you guys enjoy!

➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ Italics = things that have already happened

➥ Non italics = present day

summary: King Steve has the reputation of the kindest king in all the land. How sad it is that such a man always seems to be burying a wife, leaving him lonely and searching for another. Seeing how Queen Margaret’s death affected you, the king hopes to raise your spirits by marrying you off to the handsome Duke, James Barnes, unbeknownst to you, sealing your fate.

The large living room was alight with the glow of the fire, the flames the only source of light in the entire room. The mansion was quiet, as it tended to be, but for the past week or so, it was a different kind of quiet. A heavy silence that was almost suffocating had descended over the place. You barely turned your head to the side, swallowing down a sigh.

You felt him before you heard him, a strong concern that didn’t belong to you taking up residence in your heart beside your own. You pressed your hand to your chest, the weight within it increasing as the sound of his footsteps reached your ears. His large hands soon found a place on your shoulders, fingers kneading into your bare flesh in what was meant to be a calming gesture. You hadn’t been calm in days.

“Come to bed,” he murmured, voice gravelly, still riddled with sleep.

You shook your head, eyes focused on the flames.

“I can’t sleep.”

He sighed, an exasperated sound as his fingers danced along your throat.

“You can’t sleep...you can’t eat…”

You swallowed, heart sinking at the knowledge that you’d been found out.

“...I’m fine,” you told him.

“Remember what happened the last time you went so long without feeding…”

His words made your eyes cloud over, the memory so fresh in your mind you would’ve thought it happened yesterday instead of centuries ago.

“...it nearly broke you,” he whispered. “I don’t want to see you like that again.”

You didn’t respond, eyes instead falling to the floor as his grip tightened.

“Y/N.”

You shook your head.

“He was supposed to be back days ago,” you murmured, throat tight. “We haven’t heard from him in days.”

He exhaled, leaning down to press his lips to the top of your head, breathing you in.

“Can you still feel him? Focus...just like I taught you...”

You could. It was faint, and you had to search deep within yourself, but you could still feel him there within your chest. A light warmth that had been there since you’d first woken up into this new life.

“I can.”

“Then he’s alright…”

“Then why hasn’t he called? Or let us know that he’s okay?” you wondered, standing now as frustration colored your tone.

“It’s not the first time, doll. He will be fine, he always is, but you won’t be if you don’t drink something…”

The dull burn in your throat became all the more prominent as he reminded you of your thirst. A thirst that you hadn’t satiated in days. You turned, reluctantly lifting your eyes to meet the blue of his.

“I don’t think I can...not without…”

You trailed off, recalling the last and only time you had practically starved yourself. The lack of control you’d had… A small sigh reached your ears, and you watched as he nodded, stepping closer until his chest grazed yours.

“Drink from me for now...and then we’ll go hunting tomorrow.”

His hand was on your wrist, pulling you with him as he stepped back. He sank into the armchair, and you straddled him, fingers pressing into his shoulders as you made yourself comfortable. He gazed up at you like you had his heart in your hands, and the corner of your mouth lifted ever so slightly.

“Anywhere you want,” he breathed.

Brushing your tongue over your bottom lip, you leaned in and sank your teeth into his throat. His hips lifted up into yours, hands curled around your waist as a low groan escaped you. Your eyes rolled as your body welcomed his blood into your system, coursing through your veins to give you much needed strength.

A hungry moan bubbled in your throat, and Steve sighed.

Someone was yelling. Even through the jumbled haze that was your mind, you could recognize that much. It was also hard to breathe. Did you even need to breathe now? Probably not, but surely you did if the way you were clutching your chest and gasping for breath was anything to go by. Could vampires have panic attacks? Could vampires go into shock?

“You killed her!”

You had heard someone scream that only moments ago, and yet here they were again. There was so much yelling, so much chaos, and through it all, the voice became clear. Both voices became clear. It was James...and Steve…

The thought of the blond made your lips curl, and you shakily pulled yourself to your feet. You glanced down at your dress, taking note of the faded blood. Your blood. You had tried to kill yourself, you remembered that now...and James had found you… Both James and Steve had found you. Then Steve had killed you.

The memories were coming back so fast. You could hardly make sense of it all, and it took some time before you remembered your awakening...James...Steve… Mary Jane. Your lips parted as you eyed the fresh blood on your dress...your hands… It did not take long for your eyes to find Mary Jane’s still body just at the foot of the bed.

“No...no, no,” you mumbled, falling to your knees once again at her side.

Had you done this? You could not recall. There were blanks in your mind, but if you thought hard enough, you could conjure the uncontrollable thirst that had taken over you. You could remember the way James had attempted to stop you, the way Steve had laughed as you brutally drank from your maid. You could hear yourself scream, grief and rage hitting you all at once just before laying waste to the room.

You glanced up, eyes widening at the torn bedding and broken furniture. There were feathers everywhere. A soft sob left you as you cradled the lifeless girl in your arms. James and Steve were still arguing, fighting even, and you squeezed your eyes shut. This all felt like a bad dream. A nightmare...fueled by the vampire in the next room.

Had you been filled with less rage, you would have marveled at how quickly you moved. You found yourself in the receiving chamber, pinning Steve to the wall before you even realized what had happened. He merely chuckled, sharp teeth winking at you, blue eyes filled with mirth at your crisis.

“You did this to me,” you screamed, hitting at him. “You did this-!”

You cut yourself off with a sob just as James wrapped his arms around you, pulling you away from the other man. He shushed you, trying so hard to calm you, but you were inconsolable. The reality of the situation, your new reality, was finally starting to sink in, and you thought that the weight in your chest would crush you.

If it was not for James’ hold, you would have fallen to the floor. You had the hardest time breathing, setting your vision straight, and you shook so violently in his arms. You could feel him pressing kisses into your hair, still damp from what had transpired only hours ago.

“Go.”

That single word broke through, and it took you a moment to realize that he was not speaking to you. He was speaking to Steve. It seemed that both you and Steve came to the realization at the same time.

“Surely you are joking…”

“I mean it, Steve. You should not be here...not right now…”

“James-.”

Steve swallowed his words as you escaped and dug your nails into his throat, and while your attack did not last long, Steve easily fending you off, you were satisfied with the blood you had drawn. You fell to the floor but made no move to stand, hands pressed into the rug as you keeled over with another sob.

“You killed her, Steve.”

“Really? Because she seems to be alive and well from where I am standing,” the king sneered. “I have the marks to prove it.”

“You threw her off of the balcony!”

There was so much venom in James’ voice, and the silence that followed was thick.

“She would have left us. Both you and I know that she would have tried again, and she would have succeeded! Is that what you would have wanted?”

You heard the wall shake.

“She did not deserve that,” James spat. “She deserved better. She deserved a painless death and a peaceful transition.”

Your nails scraped along the fabric of the rug as you recalled the pain of your body slamming into the stones below. The fear that had been enough to paralyze you once you realized what Steve had done.

“Now I must undo what you have done. I have to make this right for her...and I cannot do that with you around. You need to stay away from her for a while.”

You slowly lifted your head at James’ words, eyes taking in the scene before you. James had his hand at Steve’s throat, and you were surprised to find Steve’s cold gaze on you instead of James. He stared at you with such hatred, such contempt, and to your shock, you evenly stared back at him with the same look.

“You’re in trouble, you know that right?”

Steve’s quiet words reached where you stood all the way at the top of the stairs. You heard James sigh, and your relief at his safe return was unfortunately overshadowed by the fact that he’d gone an entire week with no call, no text, no nothing to let you know that he was okay.

He finally stepped out of the foyer and into the living room, Steve just behind him, and he at least had the gall to look sheepish. You wrapped your arms around yourself, far from cold, but just a force of habit whenever you felt particularly pouty. James threw you a small smile to which you did not return.

“I’m home, my love.”

You didn’t respond, and his smile faltered.

“You look radiant…”

Again, you ignored his words as you finally made your way down the stairs, the bottom of your dress kissing your feet. His face fell when you brushed past him and instead made your way to Steve.

“Steve, I’m thirsty,” you said with a frown, and the blond bit back a smirk.

“You just ate yesterday,” he reminded you.

“Well, I want to go again,” you argued.

You huffed when he gripped your shoulders, forcing you to face James. The dark-haired man resembled a kicked puppy, and you looked away. Steve leaned down to brush his lips against your ear.

“Cut him some slack, doll. You know how demanding business can be,” he told you.

He briefly squeezed your shoulders before leaving you altogether, and you reluctantly met James’ eye. His shoulders fell, and he took a step towards you.

“The deal didn’t go as smoothly as we thought it would. Would you believe me if I told you that doing business with humans is easier than with our own kind?”

Again, you didn’t respond. At least, not right away, and you simply raised an eyebrow at him.

“Do phones not work in Romania?”

He closed his eyes, releasing a sigh.

“I was worried-.”

“I was fine.”

“...and how was I to know that?”

He tilted his head at you, pressing the palm of his hand to your chest where your heart would beat if it could. That warmth was more prominent now that he was near, and you could feel his remorse for his lack of communication with you while he was away. His blue eyes were soft as he gazed at you.

“This is how you know,” he said.

“That’s...not the point, James,” you sighed, turning away. “I get anxious. You know that…”

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling you into his chest.

“I know.”

“I don’t like it when we’re not all together. I hate when you go on these business trips by yourself,” you told him, turning in his hold. “Poor Steve has to put in twice the work just so I won’t miss you.”

James smirked, eyes glinting with mischief.

“Somehow, he manages to power through it, I’m sure,” he sarcastically replied.

You leaned in, brushing your lips along his chin, satisfied when James released a shaky breath.

“Are you coming hunting with us? I feel like it’s been so long with the three of us…”

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, pink lips curving even more as he drank you in.

“Didn’t Steve say you just went hunting…?”

“...so?” you wondered, raising an eyebrow.

James chuckled, lips brushing yours as he spoke.

“You can’t get everything you want, my love.”

“You say that...and yet I always do,” you wondered, spinning away.

“We’ve talked about this, Y/N. We have to be careful,” he argued, halting your movements with a hand on your wrist. “This is a rather small town, and we stand out enough as it is.”

You didn’t respond, and he continued.

“Remember the last small town and your appetite?” he probed.

“It’s not my fault their community was filled with abusive and rapist scum. Besides, wasn’t that when I was snapping Steve’s neck every other week or so? I had to fully take out my frustrations on someone.”

He pulled you closer.

“You like it here, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“...and you want to stay for a long time, right?”

“...yes,” you reluctantly replied. “...but I’m thirsty, so…”

You ran your eyes along his frame.

“Somehow, some way, I’m drinking someone’s blood tonight.”

The scream that you let out was gut-wrenching, and you were thankful that you were deep in the woods. Far away from the village and the kingdom. The only light came from that of the moon as it hung in the sky, and for once, you wished that you were bathed in darkness instead. You did not want to see the consequences of your actions, see what you had done.

You were reminded of that first night in your new life. You could hardly breathe and hardly make sense of what was happening. Like before, the memories came to you quickly, filling in the holes that had been missing from the last day or so.

The thought of drinking blood, harming another, even if it did not cost them their life, was enough to disgust you. You had had enough, and had refused to drink for days. James had warned you. Oh God, he had warned you. You thought yourself above this life. You thought that your heart was too good for this life and that your will would overpower your nature. You were wrong, and the lifeless body in your arms was proof of that.

The boy was young, so young. He had long passed the precipice of childhood, but had yet to reach that of a man, and now he never would. You did not even remember smelling him, nor snatching him away, but when you closed your eyes, you could see it. You could see how unaware he had been as he poked through bushes to find some berries to pick. You could see the way you zeroed in on him. You could see the monster that you had become.

Another loud sob escaped your trembling lips as you rocked him in your arms, wishing and hoping that he would wake up. That it would all be a nightmare, he would wake up, and prove that you were not the monster you now thought yourself to be.

You felt him before you saw him, and when you reluctantly lifted your head, you were surprised to come face to face with Steve...not James.

“I killed him,” you sobbed.

Steve sighed, frowning at you as he approached. You had not seen him in months, only in passing really, and you had forgotten just how much you hated him. However, in this moment, you did not wish to be alone. You wished for someone to reassure you that you were not some crazed beast. Anything to stop the pain.

“Yes, well… James told me of the grand conclusion you came to, thinking yourself above your nature,” he scoffed, and you frowned.

He shook his head at you.

“Honestly, Y/N. What did you think would transpire?”

There it was again, that rage, and your lip curled.

“This is your fault. All of this is your fault!”

You were standing now, and Steve tilted his head at you.

“You did this to me. I am like this because of you...because of what you forced onto me.”

Steve took a step towards you, something in his eyes that you could not place.

“What is done, is done. This,” he pointed to the lifeless body at your feet. “...happened because of you, because you refused to accept your new reality. This happened because you tried to go against nature, your nature.”

His words filled you with an anger that you could hardly fathom, and before you knew it, your hands were on his head and then he was at your feet, neck twisted at an odd angle. You blinked, eyes widening as you realized what you had done, and you stumbled back. You hated Steve, God knows you did, but James would be far from happy about this.

As if you summoned him up, he was suddenly there, and you jumped at the sight. Your wide eyes met his just before he took in the mess you left behind, and he sighed when his eyes landed onto the boy.

“Oh, Y/N,” he breathed, sounding sad.

“I…”

You glanced at Steve’s still form.

“Steve...he...I…”

You did not know how to tell him that you had killed his best friend, but James merely glanced at Steve before chuckling.

“I assure you, Steve is fine.”

You frowned, and he elaborated.

“You did not kill him...not permanently, at least,” he explained. “You just snapped his neck. It is something like a temporary death for us. He will be alright. It is rather painful though, but...even I must admit that he had it coming.”

“He will be angry with me,” you murmured. “...but he always seems to be angry with me. He blames me for your...separation.”

“Steve has no one to blame but himself, my love” he said, kneeling beside the nameless boy.

“You...were right, James,” you whispered, choked up.

He looked to you, eyes heavy with a myriad of emotions you could not even begin to name. Regret being the most evident one.

“I thought that I could fight it. I thought that I could make myself be something that I am not. Steve was right when he said that I did not want to accept my new reality, and I hate admitting that.”

“I will help you through this-.”

“No.”

He blinked at you, standing now as he worriedly eyed you.

“I cannot do this,” you confessed.

“Y/N-.”

“I am sorry. I am...so sorry,” you whispered, leaving him there in the blink of an eye.

Your fingers tangled in Steve’s hair as he swirled his tongue in and out of you. His lips couldn’t get enough, and he pressed his fingers into your thighs, holding you down. James was far on the other side of the room, face torn between hunger and disappointment. Despite the fact that he was safe and sound, you were still miffed about his lack of communication.

“You can look...but you can’t touch.”

That was what you’d told him, and even though it was obvious how much he wanted to protest, he obeyed. Now he stood as still as a statue, hands balled into fists, face taut as he fought to prevent himself from tasting you as Steve was currently doing.

Your chest was pointed towards the ceiling, mouth parted as moans climbed out of your throat. Steve was ravenous between your legs, groans escaping here and there to send vibrations through you, making you clench around his tongue.

“Steve,” you moaned, eyes rolling.

That was what you both loved and hated about Steve. He could remain between your thighs for days on end if you allowed him to. Your voice caught when he pushed you over the edge, chest heaving and stomach tightening while the blond greedily lapped at you, refusing to waste a single drop. You could hear James swallow as Steve crawled up your spent frame, blue eyes narrowing like that of a feline.

He pulled you into his lap, bare chest pressed to yours, arms wrapped around your waist. You threw your own around his neck, nose brushing his as you let out a happy sigh.

“I think I’ve tortured James enough, don’t you?”

You grinned at him, and Steve returned it, leaning up. You pulled back, smile widening as you evaded his kiss.

“I don’t know, doll. I think he could stand some more,” he purred.

The mischief in his eyes matched your own, and you both turned to leer at James, your cheek pressed against Steve’s. You offered your hand to James, and it was impressive how fast he moved, taking your hand and pressing his lips to yours. You moaned into the kiss while Steve trailed his own lips to your neck.

Your teeth scraped along James’ mouth, drawing blood, and your body buzzed at the taste. A low moan crawled from James’ lips as you leaned down to sink your teeth into his throat, his hand coming up to twist into your hair. You pulled away with a sigh, Steve’s mouth seeking out your own, eager to taste James on your tongue. You could hear the dark-haired man swiftly undressing, pressing his chest to your back in no time, eager to make his absence up to you.

“You need to come back.”

You froze, eyes focused on Steve as he stood in the tiny cottage you had taken up residence in, making the space look that much smaller. You swallowed as you eyed him, recalling the last time you saw him in which you had snapped his neck. That was the last time you saw James too. That was months ago. Your emotions must have been all over your face because Steve simply smirked.

“Relax. I am not here to snap your neck as you did mine,” he assured you, stepping further into the place.

He looked as regal as he always did, blond hair neatly pushed out of his face.

“Nor would you be in the right to. If anything, you had it coming from the moment you killed me,” you hissed.

He narrowed his eyes at you, and you continued before he could speak.

“Why are you here? How did you find me?” you demanded, genuine confusion coloring your tone.

“Do not be daft, sweet Y/N. We have known of your whereabouts this entire time. If it were not for James, I would have dragged you back to the castle long ago, but he insisted that you needed time,” he explained.

“...and yet here you are.”

Steve’s jaw ticked, and he neared you.

“Yes. Here I am, because you need to come back,” he repeated.

“Why?” you scoffed. “...so you can torture me some more? Make my life as miserable as your heart?”

“He is not the same,” Steve suddenly said, making you swallow your words. “He needs you.”

The thought of James sullen and wasting himself away was enough to make your heart clench, but you simply folded your arms over your chest, glancing away.

“I am happy here,” you told him.

“Really? Happy here to feed on the squirrels and the deer like some beast of the wild?” he sneered.

“What is it to you?”

He was on you in a flash, fingers pressing into your jaw so harshly you could have sworn you heard it crack. His nose brushed against yours as he glared into your eyes, an untamable fire behind his own.

“It means something to me because I wish to see him happy. As much as I despise your very presence...he is not himself whilst you are gone,” Steve told you.

You scoffed.

“Are you no longer enough for him? Funny, because whenever I was around, all he seemed to do was put you first-.”

You cut yourself off with a gasp as he slammed you into the wall, the small house shaking from the force. Your eyes watered and your lips trembled as you glared at the man before you, the man who had killed you.

“I am giving you one week. One week to do what you must. Drink from all the animals you like, tear through every tree while imagining my face on them, get whatever you must out of your system,” he began.

You looked away, and he pressed his lips to your cheek.

“If you have not returned in a week, if you run, I will find you...and I will drag you back...but not before reminding you of just how cruel I can be,” he purred.

You pushed against him, and he merely moved to catch your wrists, slamming them into the wall. Steve's forehead was pressed to yours, and you could not meet his eye.

“You may not be as weak as you once were,” he started, forcing his knee between your legs. “...but you will never be strong enough to fend me off. I have no problem reminding you of that.”

He brushed his lips over your trembling ones, and then he was gone, ruining your peace once again. You cried for the first time in weeks that night. You had no doubt that if you ran, Steve would find you. You did not know how they even found you to begin with, but it was scary to think that they knew where you were this entire time without your knowledge. What else were they capable of?

As much as you did not want to, it was exactly one week later that you found yourself returning to the castle. It was late in the night, all of the servants and any other guests fast asleep, when you walked through the doors. James was there before you hardly got a foot inside, and you were in his arms before you knew it.

“I have missed you,” he sighed, squeezing you to him.

He breathed you in, and you found yourself doing the same, reluctant to admit that you missed him too. For a moment, you were reminded of a time where you felt safe in his arms, and you wondered if you would ever feel that again. When soft footsteps reached your ears, you looked up, Steve’s eyes meeting yours as he stood behind James, practically bathed in darkness. It was then that you realized the answer was no. You would probably never feel that again. Not while Steve was around.

Contrary to what you had thought, the time that followed was far from miserable. Steve still kept a safe distance, and James did his best to teach you about your new life. Whenever you did see Steve though, it was cordial...polite...but tense. There was something unspoken in the air that you were reluctant to give attention to. It stewed for the longest time until James was the one to finally bring attention to it.

“We need to talk, my love,” he said to you one evening.

You had frowned a bit, but eventually closed your book, giving him your full attention. You could not read his face, and that worried you.

“It is about Steve,” he began.

You swallowed, straightening.

“What about Steve…?”

At this point, it had been two years since your death that was somehow both literal and metaphorical, and you had not come any closer to softening your heart towards the king. You hardly saw him, hardly spoke to him as he continued to do as James asked and gave you the space to make your transition into this life much smoother.

James sighed, reaching up to brush his thumb along your cheek.

“It is meant to be the three of us…”

You looked away, heart sinking as you realized what this was about.

“That is how I envisioned our future, and I hope that we can get back to that some day.”

“James…”

“I am not rushing you. Believe me, there is still much anger in my heart towards him for what he did, and I know that my anger cannot ever compare to yours. I only wish to remind you that this is what I hope for us some day.”

You did not respond, and he continued.

“I am bringing this up because I have spoken with Steve...and he will be doing his best to make amends. I want you to expect that…”

Yours eyes met his, and he left you with a small smile. You soon found out that Steve’s version of making amends was to buy you things you had never asked for.

“It is all the rage in France,” Steve huffed as you turned your nose up at the gaudy necklace.

“Well, I am sure they will appreciate having it returned to them,” you snidely commented

Fed up, he threw the necklace to the ground, pointing a finger at you.

“You are being unnecessarily difficult,” he hissed.

Your eyes widened and your lips parted as you stared at him as if he had grown a second head before your very eyes.

“This...,” you picked up the other jewels he had brought. “...means nothing. All of this means nothing!”

You threw them at him, taking great satisfaction in the offended look he wore.

“You killed me!”

Two years worth of anger and hurt had been stewing. Your fingers trembled and your body vibrated and your eyes burned as you stared at the blond man before you. Your murderer.

“You taunted me and made my life hell for years! And then...and then you tossed me...off of a balcony,” you shakily gasped. “...and you think that your money will atone for that?”

Steve said nothing, face taut as your words hit him square on.

“You think these meaningless things will undo what you have done? How on earth did you manage to keep the throne all these years with nothing between those ears of yours?”

He was quick in invading your space, and his chest heaved with barely contained anger as you glared at him.

“You will watch how you speak to me.”

“Or what? You shall kill me? Again?”

He said nothing, and his nostrils flared.

“James will end your pitiful existence the minute that you do,” you spat.

The words had just barely left your mouth when his hand found your throat. Having anticipated this because Steve was nothing if not predictable, you grabbed the bejeweled dagger he had tried to gift you, plunging it straight into his chest. You felt no disgust when he coughed, blood flying past his lips and onto your face. You could only feel satisfaction as you watched the pain register on his features.

Your gratification did not last long as you watched him swallow down the ache, a troubling laugh escaping his bloody lips. His wide eyes took you in with something you could not name, but if you did not know any better, you would think it was pride. He chuckled again, his hand coming up to cover your own that still held the knife in his chest. He leaned in, with difficulty, and brushed his blood-stained lips over your own.

“Word of advice...a piece of wood is what you desire.”

He tightened his grip on your hand, and you winced, gaze never parting from his.

“Also...you might want to aim a bit higher next time,” he said through clenched teeth just before ripping it out.

You gasped as he snatched it from your fingers, quickly fisting his other hand into your hair, pressing the blade to your throat. You just felt a trickle of blood when James came bursting into the room. He was quick to pull Steve away, pinning the king to the wall.

“Have you lost your mind?”

Steve merely chuckled, a smirk on his pink lips.

“We were just having some fun. Right, Y/N?”

He looked to you, and you merely huffed, brushing past them both, ignoring James as he called for you. You did not see a future in which you would ever forgive Steve for what he did, what he put you through, but you could not accept one in which the two of you were constantly at each other’s throats. Something had to give.

Is this what you had come to? Is this who you were now? The thought was enough to make you sick, but surely it was the only way? Right…? Steve did not stir, and his body was warm beneath yours as you tightened your hands around the stake. The entire time that you whittled it, you kept wondering to yourself if this was what you really wanted to do? Could you even do this?

You pressed the end of it to his chest and swallowed. Would James hate you? He would be mad, that was for sure. That was to be expected even, but surely he could grow past this right? If your heart was able to beat, you were positive that it would be threatening to leap from your chest this very moment. Why were you scared? Why were you nervous? Steve deserved this...a thousand times over.

You were having doubts, and you did not want to admit that. You had stewed over this for months. Months of arguing and fighting. How many times had you drawn blood from him and vice versa? How many more? You jumped, startled when a hand closed around both of yours, and you lifted your gaze to meet the unflinching one of Steve. It suddenly occurred to you that he may have been awake this entire time.

You sharply inhaled, but he simply smiled, pink lips curving upwards ever so slightly.

“Do it,” he urged.

Your eyes widened, and you almost listened to him, but you faltered.

“Go on...do it…”

His blue eyes glinted with something unknown, and his teeth winked at you as he grinned.

“...why?” you suddenly wondered. “Why do you want me to?”

He tilted his head at you.

“You must learn to survive this life one way or another…”

You frowned, heart sinking at that.

“I… James…”

Steve hummed, nodding.

“Yes. He will be quite angry. I daresay he might even kill you,” he told you.

Your eyes widened at that, chest clenching.

“...the same he would do to me should I ever take you away from him.”

Your shoulders dropped at that, and you blinked.

“He loves us both...and he does not intend to live the rest of his days without either one of us by his side. I may not like this, but I have come to accept it.”

You glanced away, his words taking up residence within you.

“...but if you cannot accept this, then by all means...drive that stake through my heart. Truly become what you are and take what you must. That is how you survive this life…”

There was that phrase again. You did not like it, did not like the way it made you feel, and with a disgusted gasp, you dropped the stake. You held your hands up and away from Steve, chest heaving as you shook your head.

“No...no. That is...not how I wish to survive this life,” you told him.

You chanced a glance at him, finding that his eyes had darkened considerably. With a growl, the stake was in his hand, and he had flipped you, hovering over you as you trembled beneath him.

“Then you are weak!”

“Fine!”

He had not expected that response, and he looked taken aback. His fair hair brushed his forehead, thin shirt hanging off of his shoulder as he frowned at you.

“Fine...then I am weak. Call me whatever you like, Steve, but that is not me...and it shall never be me.”

You could feel the tip of the stake pressing into you through the fabric of your gown, and you swallowed, eyes boring into his.

“If you wish to drive that stake through my heart, to take what you want, then you may do so, but that is not who I am,” you quietly said. “I am not you.”

As much as you wished you could be, you were not like Steve. God knows that you hated him, and a part of you even hated James too, but killing Steve would hurt James, and you could not do that. You would not be able to live with yourself. Steve stared at you for a long time, and for a moment you thought that he would, but all too soon, you heard the piece of wood clatter to the floor. He remained hovering over you, hand on your neck now, and you swallowed as a shudder passed through you. His chambers were quiet as you simply stared at one another, and you thought to yourself how horrible it was that someone so demented could be so beautiful. Life was most cruel.

“I hate you,” you suddenly whispered.

Your words did not affect him, but you repeated them anyway.

“I hate you so much. I do not think you can ever imagine just how much I truly hate you, Steve,” you mumbled, tears kissing your eyes.

The king leaned down, nose brushing along yours as he hummed. Your lashes fluttered, hating the way heat swirled in your gut with his movements.

“I shall never forgive you.”

“It is not your forgiveness I seek,” he said.

He settled in between your legs, forcing them around his waist as his lips pressed against your neck.

“Then what do you seek from me…?”

His sharp teeth grazed your throat, and you curled your hands into fists, nails pressing into your palms. Your world was suddenly spinning, and you found yourself on top of Steve yet again. One of his hands pressed into your waist, holding you to him while you laid your palms on his chest. Even in the dark, the blue of his eyes appeared darker. Just as you were about to move to get off of him, he sat up, pressing his chest to yours.

“I-.”

Your words died on your tongue when he pressed his thumb to your mouth, scraping it over your teeth, and your eyes rolled when his blood fell onto your tongue.

“Show me how much you hate me,” he purred, leaning in to sink his own teeth into the skin just above your breast, piercing it through the fabric of your gown.

You had your way with Steve that night, hips moving over his as you sought out your climax again and again. You bit him, scratched him, left marks on every piece of flesh you could get your hands on, and he welcomed it all. Steve enjoyed a bit of pain, you realized, and you were shocked to find out just how much you enjoyed giving it to him.

By the time you were done, the sun peaking through the window, the sheets were stained with blood. Steve was fast asleep, breathing faint, and you were leaving his chambers, feeling a bit shameful in your bloody gown from the night before. You were surprised to find James awaiting you when you entered the corridor, and you jumped a bit, pressing a hand to your chest.

You were unsure of what to say. For some reason, you thought James would be mad, but then you remembered that this is what he wanted. You frowned as he approached you, leaning in to press his lips to yours, tasting Steve’s blood on them. He did not completely pull away, and you felt the corner of his mouth lift.

“Good girl,” he whispered.

You reared back, eyeing him and the small smirk on his lips, and you suddenly wondered just how coincidental your night with Steve was...or if outside forces had come into play.

You glided through the sea of bodies, the flashing lights doing little to obstruct your vision. The club was otherwise dark, everyone around you too preoccupied with drugs or alcohol or the person next to them. Steve and James were currently knocked out at home, and while vampire blood quelled the thirst, it wasn’t what your body lived on. Venturing out for a few hours wouldn’t hurt anyone...or so you intended.

Unimpressed with the slim pickings before you, you exited the club. It was a nice summer night, but it would be much nicer if you could find something quick to eat. You heard the footsteps behind you as you made your way to your car parked on the side of the street, but you didn’t think much of it. At least, not until a warm hand wrapped around your wrist. You spun, eyes wide and confused.

The man before you had a fair complexion, hair dark and eyes darker. His facial hair was tasteful, jawline sharp, and under different circumstances, you might have found him attractive, but he wreaked of malicious intentions. You only discovered what those intentions were when he pushed against you. You allowed him to, looking at him like he had a death wish as he pinned you to your car.

“I saw you inside the club,” he said.

“...and?” you wondered, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Just a bit surprised to see a girl like you all alone… Dressed like that, you must be looking for something,” he grinned.

You scoffed, pushing against him.

“Get lost, creep.”

He snatched your hand, applying what you were sure he thought was painful pressure. You glowered at him as he pressed himself more firmly against you, and you could feel him hot and hard beneath his jeans.

“I really hate teases like you, you know,” he sneered. “You come out dressed like whores, knowing exactly what you look like, what kind of attention you’re looking for, and then when you get it… You get all surprised on us.”

You tilted your head at him, eyes narrowing.

“Nobody plays hard to get anymore. We see right through it.”

You pressed your lips together, mind whirling as you looked away. With a smirk, you leaned up and pressed your lips to his. He groaned into your mouth, tight grip still on your hand. When you pulled back, you licked your lips, brushing your nose against his.

“You caught me,” you chuckled. “Wanna come back to my place? I’ll drive.”

He grinned at you with a nod, taking a step back. By the time you got behind the wheel, he was already seated. He whistled at the interior of the car, and you threw him a sly smile as you started it.

“This yours?”

“It’s my ex’s,” you told him with a shrug.

It wasn’t a lie. James had been your ex at the time, angry with him for something you could hardly recall. The not-so-breakup breakup lasting a few months before Steve intervened. You just didn’t mention that you and said ex were happily back together.

The would be rapist talked the entire way as you sped down the road to upstate New York. If he took note of the long commute, he didn’t comment on it. Then again, why would he? He was far too preoccupied with getting laid. When you pulled up in front of the large and isolated mansion, you noticed the way his eyes briefly widened. The corner of your lips lifted just a bit as you took note of the way his heart skipped a beat.

The house was quiet, lighting dim when you entered, and you wondered if they were still asleep. You hoped not. You knew they had to be hungry. Before you could think more on it, the man behind you, Brock was what he called himself, wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against him. You didn’t react as he pressed kisses to your neck, your hungry eyes looking around for any sign of Steve or James instead.

“This is a nice place, kind of big for one woman.” he commented.

Footsteps reached your ears, far too soft for him to notice, and you bit your lip, fighting a smile.

“I agree,” you breathed, spinning around to cover his lips with your own.

His hands were tight on your waist, lips hungry and tongue searching, and the only reason disgust didn’t fill you was because you knew this would be worth it in only a matter of seconds.

“Doll…?”

You pulled away, ignoring the look on Brock’s face as you turned to grin at Steve. Your hands were on the raven-haired man’s face, your own visage practically glowing.

“Stevie,” you coolly responded.

You didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened as he took in the way the strange man held you, and your stomach flipped. You skipped towards him, hanging onto his arm as he continued to stare at the other man, a thousand ways to kill him running through his head, no doubt.

“What is the meaning of this?” he quietly demanded.

“What the fuck is going on?”

You ignored Brock, pouting at the blond man.

“He thought he could make me do whatever he wanted, Steve,” you whispered.

His head snapped towards you, jaw clenching as he ran his eyes over you. He knew that you were more than capable of taking care of yourself, but it was a habit he had no intentions of breaking.

“...so...I thought I’d bring him home…”

A smirk danced along his lips.

“Is that so?” he wondered, slowly turning to face the other man who was seconds away from leaving.

Too quickly for his eye to see, Steve was upon him, a hand digging into his shoulder. Brock barely had time to make any kind of noise before your husband was brutally tearing into his throat. You quietly approached them as Steve greedily drank from the skeevy man. He was dead by the time you reached them, and Steve lifted his head towards you, face stained, blood crawling down his neck.

He growled before smashing his lips against yours. You were reluctant to admit that the dead scum tasted better than you thought he would, but fear always did make the blood taste sweeter. You heard his body drop to the ground as Steve pressed his hands into your neck, tongue tasting the inside of your mouth while yours tasted the blood on his. You only pulled away when you heard a sigh, and you both turned to face James at the bottom of the stairs.

“What have I said about in the house?”

He sounded exasperated, but didn’t look particularly upset. You had the distinct feeling that he heard everything, and the reluctant smile that found its way onto his lips confirmed that. He beckoned you over, and you complied.

“Still mad at me?” he wondered, pinching your chin.

“No,” you said, shaking your head.

He pecked your lips.

“Good. I’ll help you get rid of that, Steve...and my love?”

He had brushed past you, and you turned to look at him expectantly.

“Yes…?”

“Never in the house,” he lightly scolded.

You returned his scowl with a grin.

The shard broke off deep into his neck, and Steve hissed, reaching to dig it out just as you plunged the other half into his chest.

“Fucking hell!”

Your palm connected with his cheek just before he shoved himself away from you, and you were determined to follow when strong familiar arms wrapped around you from behind, pinning your arms at your side.

“Let go of me,” you cried.

“Y/N-.”

“Let. Go. Of. Me!”

James did not listen, and instead you found yourself pinned to the wall, his arms preventing you from moving. You glared past his shoulder, trying in vain to kill Steve with your vision alone. The blond winced as he tore the broken glass from his neck, blood soaking into his shirt.

“He killed him,” you spat, lips trembling as the pain in your chest flared with the reminder of what Steve had done.

The man in question snapped his head up, eyes dark with anger and jealousy while his lip curled over his teeth.

“And I would happily do it again,” he sneered.

“He was my friend!”

“He coveted you,” Steve hissed, face only a hair’s width away from your own now. “You would think that after 400 plus years on this God forsaken earth, you would realize that.”

You frantically shook your head.

“No. Not everyone is like you, Steve. Not everyone has the worst intentions,” you screamed.

Steve simply rolled his eyes, turning away as he removed his shirt. You looked to James for help, anything to back you up, but he did not look the least bit remorseful about what Steve had done. He sighed, and you frowned.

“I gave Steve the okay,” he quietly confessed.

Your eyes widened, and you stumbled back out of his now loose hold. You stared at him in confusion, fighting to understand what he was telling you.

“W-what? You...you told him to kill Clint?”

James did not respond, and you swallowed, a sharp pain traveling through your chest.

“...why?” you softly asked. “He was my friend. He made me laugh, he listened to me…”

You ignored Steve’s scoff, and James reached out to brush his thumb over your chin.

“We cannot get attached to humans.”

“You did,” you threw at him. “Or have you forgotten how I ended up in this situation to begin with?”

Anger briefly flashed over his features, and you tilted your head at him.

“That was different-.”

“How so? Was it different because you can do whatever you want while I cannot? Or is it different because you felt threatened by him?”

James pressed his chest to yours, staring you down with a look you had never been on the receiving end of before. You shuddered, and he took another step forward, forcing you back.

“Threatened by a mere human who we snuffed out like it was nothing?”

“I enjoyed being around him. I enjoyed learning about the ever changing world. He reminded me of a life that Steve so cruelly ripped away from me, and you hated it,” you whispered.

James’ silence spoke volumes.

“Admit it. You were terrified that I would...what...turn him? Then run off into the sunset, leaving the two of you behind?”

Now it was your turn to scoff.

“How quickly you forget that I am nothing like you...and that I could never do to someone else what you have done to me,” you snidely told him.

James sharply inhaled, straightening to his full height.

“You are ours, and it will remain that way until the end of time.”

You looked down, but James’ hand on your chin forced you to hold his uncharacteristically cold gaze.

“...and Steve and I will kill whomever we see fit to ensure nothing disrupts that.”

You snatched your face out of his grip, tears in your eyes.

“He did not taste half bad. You should have drank from him when you had the chance,” Steve chuckled.

Only a moment later, your hands were on his face, and he collapsed at your feet. Anger coursed through you as you stared down at him, wishing you had the strength and callousness to drive a stake through his heart. James heaved a sigh from behind you, and you felt him approach.

“You cannot keep doing that every time he upsets you, my love.”

You turned to face him, frown deepening when he placed his hand on your cheek. You copied him, placing your other hand on his other cheek, before breaking his neck with a grimace. You scoffed, shaking your head at them both before storming out of the room.

The storm raged around you as you stared down into the overgrown grass. Centuries upon centuries had passed, and while it was certainly not as grand as it had once been, the basic structure of the castle remained. You had no doubt that in the years to come, it would be a tourist attraction. Nothing else from the building mattered much. The only thing that was of some importance, the balcony, remained, and that was all that you cared about.

You pressed your hand to your lips as you looked around, feeling like it was only yesterday that you had been here. If you thought hard enough, you could recall the early days of your marriage, filled with innocence and naivety. You could even recall the respect and admiration you’d had for Steve then, back when he was a king. Your relationship with the blond was much more complicated these days than you cared to admit.

And if you really relaxed, really thought hard enough, you could see her smile. You could see the way her hair caught the sun, looking almost red at times. You could hear her laugh at some jest that was far too inappropriate for a woman to make back then. If you thought hard enough, you could see...her.

You didn’t realize that you had closed your eyes until they snapped open at the familiar warmth in your chest that was growing by the minute. You hadn’t intended to bond with Steve that night, it sort of just happened, and the damage had been done. At least he had taught you how to feel his presence deep within your chest, a warmth that was always there but had not realized was James...and now Steve too. It was how James always found you every time you took off. You didn’t like that he’d hidden that from you…

You didn’t need to turn around to know that he was there. You could feel him like he was touching you instead of way on the other side of the room. He didn’t say anything, and you got the feeling that James had grown worried, had told him to come find you. After all, it had been a few months since you last saw them. It was how you coped when you couldn’t stand to look at their faces. You could feel Steve’s surprise at finding you here.

“Why did you kill her?” you suddenly wondered, voice quiet.

The rain was loud, words drowned out even more as you were on the balcony, but you knew that he heard you all the same.

“I loved her...and you took her away from me. Why?”

“...because I couldn’t control her,” he eventually responded, equally low voice reaching your ears.

Steve didn’t sound boastful, he didn’t even sound satisfied with himself. In fact, the vampire behind you almost sounded regretful.

“...and me?”

You blinked, tears skipping down your face as you finally turned to face him. Your eyes met his, and his jaw clenched as he took note of the way your own shined.

“Why did you kill me?”

Steve didn’t answer, and you stumbled towards him.

“Why, Steve? You...you threw me off of that balcony. You took my life into your hands, and you just crushed it! Like it was nothing… You killed me.”

“I know-.”

“You killed me!”

You shoved him, and he let you. He swallowed, reaching for you. It was always so fresh in your mind. Your fear, the cruel smirk on his face, his heartlessness...and then the pain. The way he laughed when you had killed your maid. Mary Jane. So many had died as the result of his own selfish desires...

“I know, I know.”

“You killed me, Steve,” you cried, hitting his chest, his shoulders, his face.

He merely blinked as you slapped him again. You could feel his own regret and his own despair and it made you angrier. It was centuries too late.

“You killed me, you killed me, you killed me,” you repeatedly sobbed, shoving him and shaking him over and over again. “Why?”

You fisted your hands into his shirt, yanking him.

“Why did you kill me, Steve? Why...why did you do that to me?” you shakily mumbled, lips trembling.

Steve pressed his hand into the back of your head, the other at the small of your back, and you fought against him.

“You were going to leave us,” he reluctantly said. “You were going to leave me…”

You didn’t meet his eyes as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“My feelings then may have been just as complicated as they are now, but I only knew that I couldn't let you leave,” he confessed.

You shook your head, a sob caught in your throat.

“You would have tried again...and you would have succeeded,” he breathed.

He was right. You both knew that he was right, and you would have tried again. After all, at the time, you thought it was your only way to get away from him. Steve’s lips sought out yours, and you turned your head away. His regret threatened to suffocate you.

“I’m sorry,” he exhaled.

You shook your head again, turning away every time he reached for your face.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, lips finding yours.

Your back hit the wall, and you could feel his own lips trembling against yours. Your salty tears mixed in with the kiss, and you cried harder at your despair, his regret, and your inability to change the past.

“Forgive me,” he pleaded into your mouth.

“No,” you whispered back.

His lips traveled to your jaw and then your neck before kissing the fabric of your dress as Steve fell to his knees, begging for your forgiveness every step of the way.

“Forgive me, forgive me,” he chanted.

Your hands tangled in his hair as he fiercely kissed your stomach, pressing his face into your dress as he continued to beg for your forgiveness. You never thought you’d see the day where Steve would be on his knees, begging you to forgive him. After all, once upon a time, he’d told you that your forgiveness was not what he sought...and once upon a time, you said you’d never give it.

As your fingers tightened in his hair, you thought to yourself that perhaps you could forgive him. You could feel his remorse, feel how what he’d done had been eating at him. It had been doing so for quite some time, but you’d always tried to ignore it. You never thought a day would come where you’d even consider forgiving him for making your life hell, killing Peggy...killing you, but as his pleas reached your ears, you were tempted to give in. Maybe you would forgive him some day…

In one quick movement, you’d snapped Steve’s neck, and he heavily fell at your feet. You stood against the wall, trembling and crying. Your fingers shook, and in all the years you’d done that whenever Steve made you incredibly angry, for the first time ever, it did not bring you joy.

Maybe you would forgive Steve someday...but today was not that day.

Your watchful eyes followed the children as they ran across the street. Despite their ratty clothing and dirty faces, bright smiles adorned their lips as they laughed and played with one another. The owner of the orphanage, a kind and homely woman, ushered them along. You caught her eye and she waved. You returned it with a smile, James and Steve hardly paying you mind as they conversed about their investments.

You had more money than you could ever dream of, so you donated to the orphanage often. The children who always lived there always looked their best now, but you could see that these kids were new. You watched the way they played amongst each other, running around Ms. Jane, their giggles reaching your ears as she fought to settle them down.

“My love?”

You were pulled from the scene at the sound of James’ voice. His brows were furrowed, and he looked concerned.

“Are you alright…?”

You nodded at him.

“Of course.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie, but it wasn’t entirely true either. You were certain that James could feel that, and that was probably why his face briefly pinched before it smoothed out. He reached past Steve to brush a finger over your cheek, a small smile on his lips just before he turned away. You quickly glanced at the children again before tightening your hold on Steve’s arm.

“Steve…”

You glanced to him just as he turned to look at you, raising an eyebrow.

“Can vampires procreate?”

You didn’t like to ask James these things. He had a habit of withholding information from you or even just downright sugarcoating things. You could feel his eyes on you, and you ignored his gaze as you waited for Steve to answer. He threw you a strained smile.

“No...but we sure love to try,” he joked, and you reluctantly chuckled.

You looked away from him, and he brushed a finger over the back of your hand.

“Why do you ask?”

Your eyes strayed to the laughing children again, and you shrugged.

“Just curious, I guess…”

You could feel their concern, but you ignored it, and days later, the conversation was forgotten altogether. But every now and then, you thought about those children, about where they lived. Despite the fact that you’d put a lot of money into the place, they still deserved a proper home.

Steve and James were gone when you left. It was late, and they were meeting with shady businessmen, no doubt. Times were different. It was the 1910’s, an age of cars and alcohol and money, and every man wanted to do business with the elusive Steve Rogers and James Barnes. You smirked to yourself, thinking on how everyone thought them to be descendants of royal blood, unaware that they were indeed the original royal blood everyone thought them to be related to.

The night was cold, not that you could tell, but the frost on the windows and the shivers from the men that you passed told you so. You ignored the strange looks they gave you, a woman such as yourself out so late by your lonesome? That was one thing that hadn’t changed in the years to come. The orphanage was in a better part of town, away from the seedy bar and brothel, no predatory and violent men around to disturb the peace of the children.

You could hear a horse and carriage far off in the distance as you stared up at the building. All of the windows were covered with curtains, and when you listened closely, you could hear the calm and even heartbeats of all the children inside. All except one. You frowned when the door opened and a little boy stood in the open doorway with an empty pail. His eyes widened at the sight of you before a smile eventually graced his lips.

“H-hello,” he hesitantly stuttered.

You stared at him for a long while, blinking at him before eventually squatting to meet him at eye level. He couldn’t have been any older than seven.

“Hi,” you breathed. “What are you doing up so late?”

If he was frightened by your sharp teeth, he did not show it. His heart didn’t even stutter. He held up the bucket with a shrug.

“I wanted to get some water for in the morning, so that Ms. Jane wouldn’t have to,” he told you.

You let out a light laugh.

“That is so sweet. What is your name?”

“Billy…”

You quietly repeated it to yourself, and you stared at him, your heart already making your next decision for you before your mind could catch up. You slowly stood, extending your hand towards him with an inviting smile.

“Are you hungry, Billy?”

You got the feeling that he was going to protest, but his stomach told on him before he got the chance.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a nod, looking sheepish.

Your smile widened, and your heart soared when he stumbled towards you, placing his smaller hand in yours. As you walked him back to the house, he told you of how Ms. Jane did the best she could with the donations, but the orphanage was filling up with more and more kids each year. He was fairly new, only having been there for all of three months. He marveled at your mansion, brown eyes alight with wonder.

He was well behaved, waiting patiently while you fixed him something to eat. You were happy that he was comfortable with you, talking your ear off the entire time. You made sure to fix him a hearty soup, filled with vegetables and plenty of meat. He didn’t seem to mind as you studied him, far too engrossed in the food before him.

You hadn’t realized how much time had passed.

“Y/N.”

Startled, you turned, looking up to find James and Steve standing in the entryway to the living room. Billy and you were on the floor, the fire lit to keep him warm, and you hurriedly stood. James hardly ever called you by your name, and you did not need to look within yourself to know that he was angry. It was written all over his face.

“Is that your name?” Billy asked you.

You turned to him with a strained smile and nod.

“You stay right here, okay?”

You ruffled his hair, and he smiled at you with an obedient nod. You swallowed as you turned to approach James and Steve, not missing the way James’ eyes never left you. You could feel their worry, and that confused you.

“What have you done?” James demanded, and you flinched at his tone.

“I…”

You gestured to Billy.

“There are so many children in the orphanage, so I-.”

“So you brought him here? To a house full of vampires?”

He talked to you like you were stupid, and you looked to Steve for help, but his own face was pinched with worry, blue eyes flickering between you and the boy.

“We can raise him,” you quietly said. “He’ll never have to want for anything-.”

“No,” James snapped.

“James-.”

“You could have killed him. Exposed all of us,” he argued. “What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that he could be ours,” you weakly replied, hating the way your voice trembled.

James’ eyes softened, shoulders sagging as he heaved a sigh. You looked to Steve, the blond the more open minded of the two, eyes pleading as you reached for him.

“Steve…? Tell him, Steve,” you said, pushing yourself against him. “Let me keep him.”

Steve’s eyes landed on James, the dark-haired man almost daring Steve to say something.

“Let’s just think about it-.”

“Absolutely not. We’ll be lucky if no one has already noticed his absence…”

“No,” you breathed. “James, no.”

“I’m taking him back. Now,” he hissed, brushing past you.

“No,” you cried, standing in his way. “I hardly ask you for anything.”

James’ eyes widened at your uncharacteristic behavior, and you clutched his shirt.

“...and I should. I should ask you for the world. I deserve it! I can take care of him, James.”

Your voice was small, and James gave you a regretful look before glancing away.

“Let me have this one thing,” you softly begged.

James was quiet, so was Steve, and the only sound was that of Billy finishing his food. James clenched his jaw, nostrils flaring before finally speaking.

“Steve.”

You fought in Steve’s hold as he grabbed you, holding you back as James approached Billy. You screamed as he stared into the boy��s eyes, Billy falling asleep only moments later, James catching him with ease.

“Fuck you, James,” you spat as he passed you. “Fuck you!”

You could feel the pain that your words caused, but you didn’t care. You turned to press your face into Steve’s chest as the door slammed shut, collapsing in his arms. He tightened his arms around you, shushing you as sobs wracked your frame.

“You could have killed him.”

“I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t have done that-.”

“You don’t know that,” he said. “You’re still fairly young. You could have easily killed him, and then what?”

You shoved yourself away from Steve, wrapping your arms around yourself as you sniffed.

“You did this to me,” you mumbled.

It was an old argument. You and Steve were in a far better place than what you used to be, but you were still so far from where you could be. You looked to him, eyes hard and lip curling over your teeth.

“I wanted kids. I always wanted kids, and you took that away from me…”

Steve sighed, looking down.

“I want to blame you...but the truth is...a part of me hates James too,” you confessed.

“Y/N-.”

“...because the truth is...that life was gone the moment James decided that I was to be his.”

Steve reached for you, but you stepped away. Your eyes briefly fluttered close, a soft scoff escaping your lips.

“It’s not fair,” you whispered, shaking your head. “It’s not fair.”

You flurried past him, slamming your shoulder into his as you passed by.

Steve’s hold was almost bruising on your hips, his own pushing up into yours over and over again with every thrust. You dug your nails into his chest, head thrown back to accommodate for James, his lips tasting the skin of your neck and shoulder. Your lashes fluttered as you clenched around Steve, and James’ nails pressed into your skin.

“I don’t like that he touched you,” he murmured against your skin.

You sighed when Steve wrapped his lips around a hardened bud.

“It was a means to an end…”

James hummed, Steve far too preoccupied with the way his cock slid in and out of you.

“...and if I had to seduce some other woman as a means to an end?” he wondered.

His tone was teasing, and you all knew he wasn’t serious, but you froze anyway, turning your head to stare into his eyes. Your own hardened considerably, and James chuckled at the fire in your eyes.

“A bit of a double standard, no?”

“James,” Steve dragged out, frustrated that you’d stopped moving. “Why must you choose now of all times to upset her?”

“It was a simple question,” the dark-haired man said with a shrug.

“The day you seduce someone else, a means to an end or not, is the day I finally drive a stake through your heart,” you calmly told him.

James smirked, brushing his lips over yours.

“Come now, my love. I was only teasing…”

With a devious smile of your own, you twisted your hand into his hair, thankful that he’d never cut it too short, before forcing him onto his back beside Steve. You dragged your nails along his chest, drawing blood and taking great satisfaction in the way he’d hissed. You moved your hips over Steve’s as you leaned over to glide your tongue over his skin, James moaning at the feel. Your teeth ached, the desire to sink your teeth into him strong. Your lips moved against his heaving chest as you spoke.

“I don’t joke about what’s mine.”

tags: @mcudarklibrary @harryspet @xoxabs88xox @darkficreposter @opheliadawnwalker3 @honeychicanawrites @honeychicana @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan @sebabestianstan101 @readermia @villanellevi @lokislastlove @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21 @hurricanerin @buckybarnesplumwhore @quaksonhehe @nerdygirl8203 @patzammit @mandiiblanche @cocoamoonmalfoy @mrsdeanwinchester19 @ahoemine @9daykrisr

#dark steve rogers #dark bucky barnes #dark steve x reader #dark bucky x reader #vampire!stucky #Dark fics #marvel fanfiction #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky x reader

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amistytown · 3 years ago

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When I took hurt/comfort prompt requests, I imagined they would be 100 words at most. This one is over 2000 lol. The first half is TSL themed based on Leviathan’s dialogue here, and the second is your typical Leviathan and MC. I know I get a bit wordy, but that’s something I plan to work on. As always, I apologize for any spelling or grammatical errors that may have gone unnoticed. Trigger warning for mentions of blood and violence. Thank you to those who take the time to read my work; it’s greatly appreciated! Also a special thank you to @luminari-mc for looking it over and providing feedback ♥

The rage of betrayal courses through his veins, heart crashing against his ribcage with each frenzied swing of his sword as his eldest brother’s words ring in his ears. They silence your own, the Lord of Shadow refusing to fall for your lies despite how sweet they sound, certain he’ll drown if he dares to listen. Even now he struggles to stay afloat, your panicked gaze washing over him and threatening to drag him under. The pain is unbearable, and he sinks further into despair, hating how pathetic and miserable you look, stare pleading as he drives his blade forward. You deceived him, and although he longs for the warmth of your friendship, he knows he’s a fool for believing you cared for him—a disgusting reclusive lord who is undeserving of your love.

Blood blossoms beneath the edge of his sword, staining the steel a violent shade of red. The sight sickens him, breath catching in his throat but apologies dying on the tip of his tongue as he strengthens his resolve, grip tightening around the hilt before his guard slips entirely. Yet he waits, granting you a moment of reprieve. Your eyes never leave him, and he swears they bore into his very soul. The same eyes that haunt his dreams, and he finds himself lost in the beauty of them, recalling how they light up when you glance in his direction—did he imagine they burned so brightly for him, stupidly thinking it a possibility, still wanting it to be true . . . your sword clatters at your feet as you toss it aside, and his head is swimming—heart aching—body heavy while he descends into the deepest recesses of the turbulent ocean of his psyche.

“A-are you out of your mind?” he gasps, brows furrowed in indignation.

However, you smile, small and sad, but lovely, nonetheless. “I believe in—”

“No!” he yells, certain what you say next will break him, and he’s already on the verge of tears, trying to convince himself your kindness is nothing more than a cruel trick. “Not another word!”

Another frantic swipe of his sword sends you to the ground, the sickening crack of your bones making him clench his teeth. He watches you cradle your wrist to your chest, helplessly laying in front of him with that god forsaken expression on your face—scared but heartbroken—mirroring his own. How easily he could strike the finishing blow, extinguishing your light within seconds, and his world along with it; the mere thought nauseates him—his worst nightmare a reality. You, who foolishly left yourself defenseless and at his mercy—who naively trusts him while the point of his blade rests on the exposed skin of your neck—a thin line between life and death, and he holds that power within his hands.

From above, his brother observes the battle with a smirk on his lips. The Lord of Shadow can see him through the long ornate windows of the castle, the eldest’s dark figure seeming to glow in the faint light of the moon, pride shining in his eyes and urging him to end it once and for all.

Tears wet your cheeks, tugging at his heartstrings. Do you cry in fear, regretting crossing blades with him as you mourn your short insignificant human life? Or do you cry for him, your friendship, feeling the same emptiness it leaves in its absence? Clearly, he remembers every second spent together, your genuine interest in him and the way you humor him, taking time to learn about his interests and comforting him in his darkest hours; truly believing in him more than he does himself, your confidence in him encouraging him to do better—to be better. Are you capable of the deceit his brother warned him about, your actions driven by greed and done out of spite, a trap he blindly walked into under the sway of your affections? Why surrender yourself to him, otherwise? The Lord of Corruption is family, practically raised him, and you’re an outsider, beneath him in both name and status, but you’re his friend. The truest friend he’s ever known.

Surely, he’s the fool, allowing himself to admit defeat for the sake of love as he sheaths his sword to kneel at your side. Carefully, he eases you up into his arms, his pitiful human covered in sweat, blood, and tears, and he wonders if you’ll ever forgive him. He’ll do anything to right his wrongs if it means you’ll show him an ounce of the kindness you did before, wishing he listened to his heart instead of his envy—his brother fanning the flames by slandering your name and tarnishing your honor.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, overtaken by grief. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know,” you soothe, wiping away his tears as they finally fall, and he chokes on a sob at your warm touch and compassion. “I believe in you.”

“Stop.” You’re hurt, and he’s to blame. He appreciates how big and kind your heart is, but you need to be loved now more than ever, and he’ll prove to you his love for you is real, no longer a slave to his fears. “Let me take care of things for once, all right?” Unclasping his cloak, he wraps it around your shoulders, mindful of your injuries, and pulls you close, a trembling hand coming to rest on your tearstained cheek in a gentle caress. A part of him is afraid to hold you, worried you’ll shatter under his fingertips, but you lean into his embrace, crying into the nape of his neck, an unforgettable sound that chills him to the bone.

“I never stopped believing in you,” you sniffle. “I know you. My Lord of Shadow. My truest friend.”

“And you mine,” he says with conviction, in awe of your unwavering faith in him. “The truest in all the realms.” Glancing up at the seething form of his brother, he glowers back in defiance, unafraid to challenge the Lord of Corruption with you in his arms. “I swear on my life I’ll protect you.” Protect you from himself, his brothers, and the rest of the world if necessary—you’re his and he’s yours, and he hates himself for letting anyone or anything come between you, risking the best thing that’s happened to him in his long life; you made the journey here worthwhile. “You have my word.”

Awaking with a start, Leviathan finds himself in his gaming chair, sweaty and dazed while an episode of The Tale of the Seven Lords plays in the background. Staring at the screen, he pieces together the remnants of his dream, disoriented by how real you looked and felt, so sad and fragile curled against his chest. Unshed tears cloud his vision, memories of the day flashing before his eyes—the ache of his heart when you stormed out of his room, the pained expression on your face before you turned your back on him, and the angry slam of his door as he shut it behind you, seeking solace in his favorite games and anime, but even Ruri-chan failed to bring him the comfort he so desperately sought after. He yearns for you, your company, and your smile that rids him of his doubts—his Henry whose light dispels the shadows that fight to consume him.

Glancing at his D.D.D. his anxiety intensifies, nearly crushing him, when he sees the notifications; your text messages left unread in his despair. If you didn’t hate him then, you certainly hate him now, and his poor heart can’t bear the possibility, stomach churning in unease. Henry forgave the Lord of Shadow, but can you forgive him? Impossible, he tells himself, but his gaze drifts over the last text you sent, igniting a spark of hope within him. He reads and then rereads your words, they’re not angry or hateful, signed with an I love you, so simple and straightforward, yet his cheeks grow far too hot, and he’s afraid he’ll faint from excitement alone. The avatar of envy needs to see you—talk to you—even if it’s after 4 o’ clock in the morning, and he’s beyond nervous, legs unsteady as he approaches the door. He can’t afford to lose you to his insecurities, surrendering to his sin and wallowing in his misery; you, your relationship, is much greater—his human so precious he could cry.

The light of his room streams into the hall, illuminating you, eyes wide and shining when he opens the door, your hand poised to knock. Is he dreaming? He worries you’ll vanish if he looks away, body moving on its own accord as he throws his arms around you, and he summons the courage of the Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy to hold you tightly against him, burying his face into your shoulder. His skin burns where your hands rest on his waist, and he inhales sharply at your touch, breathing in your scent—familiar and comforting.

“I’m sorry,” you stammer, your breath sending a shiver down his spine. “Levi—”

“No!” His tail snakes around you eagerly, horns brushing your cheek as they manifest, and demonic aura charging the atmosphere in response to the intensity of his emotions. “I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.” You didn’t cross blades like the Lord of Shadow and Henry but arguing with you wounded him greatly and he’s willing to show you exactly how sorry he is—how special you are to him—striving to overcome his weaknesses to be the demon you can depend on, deserving of your love and friendship. “Let me take care of things for once, all right?” All too often you console him, stroking his head while he cries about the games he’s lost and merchandise that sold out, or the nights he breaks down and you help him see the good himself, always highlighting his strengths and loving him regardless of his flaws.

“I love you, you know,” he whispers, blush deepening. “You make me so happy I could cry.” His hand instinctively shields his face from view, heat creeping down his neck and chest, which constricts at your smile, stealing his breath away.

You take his hand in yours, threading your fingers together. “I love you, too,” you say, his heart pounding in reply, and it almost stops the second you kiss him, brain short-circuiting at the softness of your lips and the taste of your love.

“A-am I dreaming?” he stammers.

“No,” you reassure, squeezing his hand. “I promise.”

“C-can I . . .” He swallows thickly, averting his gaze. “Can I kiss you again?”

“Of course.”

A trembling hand traces your jawline, slowly tilting your head toward the light, and he catches a glimpse of himself in your eyes, which stare at him in undeniable adoration. It’s crazy, he thinks, completely bewildered by you—a human—who arrived in the Devildom only to capture his heart, bringing him a happiness he considered long out of his reach. Yet here you stand, melting into his kiss and reciprocating his affections. He’s inexperienced, kiss sloppy and awkward, but his feelings are true, the flush of color on your cheeks enough to placate his fears. The kiss lasts seconds; to him it’s a lifetime, and he believes he might die before you part ways.

“I missed you.” His voice is low, shaky, barely there at all. “What’s the point of watching the latest anime or playing the newest game if my player 2 isn’t beside me? It hasn’t even been a full day, and you’ve already missed so much,” he practically whines, the time apart torturous. “I want to make it up to you . . .”

Though you smile, listening to him intently, you’re unable to hide the yawn betraying your exhaustion and reminding him what hour it is; he can go days without sleep, but his human needs plenty of rest. He promised to take care of you, and it’s a promise he’ll keep.

“Tired you are, time for sleep it is,” he concedes, and you groan, hugging him even tighter.

“Can I stay?” you ask sheepishly. “I missed you, too.”

“No, no way!” he exclaims on impulse, possibly waking the entire House of Lamentation. You want to stay with him—in his room—sleeping beside him in his cramped tub? Taking a minute to register exactly what you said, he hastily backpedals in case you change your mind. “I’m sorry. I mean, yes. Yes, you can stay. I-I want you to stay.”

Inside his room The Tale of the Seven Lords still plays, and he fondly remembers the hours you poured into the series, watching and rewatching every episode—bonding through the story and its characters.

“TSL,” you hum as he switches off the tv, cutting off the unmistakable theme song and dowsing his room in shadow. “This reminds me of—”

“The time the Lord of Shadow and Henry had a falling out, but Henry found it in his heart to forgive the Lord of Shadow? Fortunately, it was a simple misunderstanding, though the Lord of Shadow couldn’t help fearing the worst because why would someone as awesome as Henry want to keep a brooding reclusive lord around . . .”

“But Henry knows the Lord of Shadow better than anyone,” you continue. “He doesn’t doubt the Lord of Shadow for a second, believing in him even when he can’t believe in himself. Henry trusts him until the end because they’re—”

“True friends!” he cries, eyes gleaming.

“Exactly.” Climbing into his tub, you gently encourage him to join you with another beautiful smile, making him weak in the knees and heart skip a beat. “I never stopped believing in you either. I know you. My Lord of Shadow. My truest friend.”

“And you’re mine,” he breathes. “M-my Henry.”

Beneath the blankets his tail wraps affectionately around your waist, drawing you close, and you lay your head upon his chest, running your fingers through his hair. Sleep overtakes you quickly, Leviathan calmed by the steady rhythm of your heart, and the warmth of your body and soul. You’re his by choice, giving yourself to him without hesitance, and he’s yours, hopelessly in love with the normie laying in his arms. In the darkness he sees the traces of your pain, hollowed eyes and the tears staining your face, and he wishes he could turn back time to save you from himself. Your compassion and understanding are a blessing, inspiring him to be the best demon he can be for the both of you. The moment he met you he regarded you coldly, unfair in his judgements, and he’s grateful you proved him wrong, taking a chance that brought you together.

“Goodnight,” he murmurs, glad it’s you in his embrace, your peaceful expression so wonderful he never wants to look away. “I love you.”

You may be a normie, but you’ll always be his true friend.

Taglist: @luminari-mc @yukihaie

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me leviathan #obey me mc #obey me reader #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #requests #my writing

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harryspet · 4 years ago

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off to the races | s.rogers

[Warnings] dark!steve rogers x reader, stripper!reader, ddlg, daddy!steve, abduction/kidnapping, mafia boss steve, murder/violence, a hint of peter x reader, hint of forced regression, sexy stuff, unprotected sex (wear condoms kiddos), hella angst

A/N: I do not stan lana del rey but I do stan off to the races :)

In which you call the kingpin your Daddy.

word count: 4.9k

main masterlist

taglist: @cherienymphe @peterztinglez @lovelynerdytraveler @buckysbunny @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @lovemassivelybeautifulbouquet @what-is-your-wish @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @mischiefmanaged011 @visintaes

God, do they have to play this song every night?

You tried to tune out the annoying pop song, continuing to grind your hips against the man you were giving a small lap dance. You wondered how long you could grind against his beer belly before he finally requested a private dance. Lucky for you, you felt some cash being slipped between the lace of your turquoise, panty set. You turned around, a mischievous smile on your face, as you reached out to grab his tie.

He was mesmerized by you as you expected, and you imagined that he was dying to see more of your scantily clothed body. A hundred dollars for fifteen minutes in a private room. If you could manage to get a few more private dances tonight, you’d consider yourself successful.

You brought him to one of the back rooms and got to work. You let him run his hands over your bottom but once they started to reach between your legs, you knew what to do, “Ah, ah, ah, you know the rules,” You hid your frustration behind your sultry voice. You climbed on his lap, straddling him, as you reached around to undo your top. Beneath the lacy top were your breast but decorated in shiny gemstones.

A lot of the other girls hated glitter and spending time doing stuff like applying tiny gems but you knew that it was another shiny thing for men to look at. You needed their attention. Besides, you didn’t mind the way it looked either. His eyes were wide and he gripped your bottom as you moved your breast, an inch away from his face.

When the fifteen minutes were over, you quickly collected your top and fastened it back on, “Come and see me soon, baby,” You said something of that nature, all your words blurred together by the end of the night.

You managed to get about four more private dances and as one a.m. approached, you were ready to be anywhere else but here. You headed underneath the neon exit sign, heading for the locker rooms, where it seemed a lot of girls were on their way out. You passed naked, sweaty bodies, and clouds of spray deodorant as you made your way to your locker, already slipping out of your tall heels.

The first thing you pulled out was your money bag and you were careful when you were counting each dollar bill, tucking it away nicely. You felt a tap on your shoulder, turning around to see Wanda, red lollipop in one hand, and a white check in the other. Your eyes widened as soon as you read the number, “I’m missing fifty bucks,” You told her.

She gave you a knowing look, “Late fee, Y/N.”

“I was a minute late! I even called and told him my train was late,” Angrily, you stuffed your money bag into your duffle bag.

“He’s not in a good mood, some suit was talking with him earlier,” Wanda shrugged, sensing she had bigger things to worry about. Like you, she made her money dancing and was trying to get by supporting herself, “I wouldn’t argue with him today.”

“Screw that, fifty dollars is the difference between me making rent. He can’t do this,” You slammed your locker closed and you were about to storm off when Wanda grabbed your arm.

“C’mon, we should go. Clint is gonna walk us to the station and he won’t wait for you.”

“I won’t be long,” You shrugged her off, making your way out of the dressing room, and toward Loki’s office. He controlled every part of the Mischief club, set the prices, chose the dancers, and even had a strict list of clientele. It wasn’t the nicest club you’d worked at but it was the closest thing to a consistent paycheck.

You didn’t bother knocking, knowing that you had a point to make and only a certain amount of time to say it, “Fifty dollars! Are you serious-” You stopped in your tracks, realizing that your boss was not alone. Not only was he not alone, but you were also in deep shit. Steve Rogers sat across from the playboy club owner and, looking at the handsome silver-fox, you thought your heart might explode out of your chest.

He’d found you.

He smiled as soon as he saw you, “Babydoll,” A name you’d usually swoon at, made you cringe inside. There he was, clad in an expensive suit and dark overcoat.

Your eyes met with those of Sam and Bucky who had made themselves comfortable by one of the tall bookcases, waiting for their boss to command them to do something. As Steve’s eyes raked over your body, you realized they’d never seen you like this.

“You know her?” Loki leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk, an eyebrow raised, “... sir.” He added quickly. You don’t know why you were so surprised by this, knowing that Steve was feared everywhere, and Loki, no matter how evil, wouldn’t be the one to challenge him.

“I saw you perform tonight,” Steve spoke to you and, in his mind, you imagined that you were the only one he was seeing right now, “You looked beautiful.”

You hadn’t realized that you probably looked like you’d just seen a ghost. You tried to let go of some of the tension in your body, “What are you doing here?” You tried to keep your voice from faltering and, considering that you were half-dressed, you tried not to let your insecurities overwhelm you.

“As of a few minutes ago, I am the sole owner of the Mischief Club,” Your heart had stopped its pounding and now it was sinking into your stomach, “If you have any grievances with your employer, you can speak to me-”

“This isn’t your side of the city,” Your lip trembled, anger bubbling within you, “Why … y-you . . . Steve, you can’t do this.”

“Every part of this city is mine, Babydoll,” He sighed, standing up from his chair, reminding you of his large, intimidating frame. Reminding you that you were nothing compared to him. You didn’t move as he crossed the room, moving until he was only standing an inch from you, slowly reaching out his hand until he was touching your cheek, “Chasing you made me realize that I should expand my influence. A club like this is a shit hole now but, in a few months, I’d make it a cash cow.”

“Once you run drugs through the place, you mean,” He tensed up for a moment and you realized you’d struck a chord. His hand was on your throat, his thumb brushing over your cheek, and a piercing gaze burning holes into your skin.

“I wouldn’t worry your pretty little head over it,” For a moment, you closed your eyes, and imagined wrapping your arms around him. He’d become your haven so quickly and you’d almost forgotten how it felt for someone to care so much for you. Love you even when you didn’t want to love yourself. When you opened them again, you realized what he meant by his words.

He wasn’t giving you a choice.

You stepped back, letting his hand fall back to his side, before you crossed your arms, “Things aren’t going back to the way they were.”

Much to your surprise, Steve nodded, “No, I made some mistakes. Letting you go being the biggest one.”

You rolled your eyes, “You’re dangerous, Steve, and I want nothing to do with it.”

“And this is safer, Y/N?” He raised his voice, “Men having their grimy hands all over you . . . I’m taking you home.”

“I can take care of myself!”

“Really?” He smirked condescendingly, and you imagined he was seeing you as a bratty child throwing a tantrum, “He-” He stepped to the side, and pointed a finger at Loki, “-was going to lay you off a week from now. The club went under a long time ago and he was going to take your hard-earned money and run, leaving you with nothing. What would you do then?”

Loki stood up, interrupting, a nervous smile on his face, “Not with nothing. I-I pay all the ladies very well and I would like to continue to do that . . . that’s why I’m so grateful for your generosity, Mr. Rogers-” He cleared his throat awkwardly. He was lying through his teeth.

“You won’t be paying them anymore, Mr. Laufeyson,” Steve spoke calmly, too calmly, and as his hands reached up to his waist belt, you suspected the worse.

“Steve-”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Loki rushed out his words as Steve pointed his favorite silver handgun in his direction, “We had a deal!”

“Steve, don’t!” Panicked, you grabbed a hold of his strong arm. As soon as you saw him, you knew the night wouldn’t end good but death was not something you predicted. Before, he’d never show you the violent side of his world. Now, something had changed, “Steve, please don’t!”

“Come with me,” He spoke sternly, “Come home and I won’t.”

“Okay,” You said immediately, looking up at his unchanging expression. He didn’t move which only panicked you further, “I will! Steve, please don’t.”

“He’s not a good man. He’s been using you this whole time,” Steve said, finally turning to look at you. Your body was shaking, the idea of being so close to the gun was frightening you further, “You’d give yourself up for this scumbag?”

Though it made you more anxious, you moved closer to him, grabbing a hold of his free hand. With your other arm, you hugged his torso, and as he stared down at him, “I-I don’t want you to hurt anyone, Daddy,” You spoke softly, “ . . . please, Daddy?” Something softened in his features as you called him by his favorite nickname. He squeezed your smaller hand and, for a moment, you thought things might be okay.

The sound was deafening when Steve pulled the trigger. Although you couldn’t hear anything, you knew you were screaming, and that you weren’t sure if you ever wanted to open your eyes ever again. He tried to wrap his arms around you and you remembered fighting it, hitting his chest, and screaming even louder. Somewhere along the line, you gave in, he was too strong, letting him wrap his long coat over your scantily clothed figure.

You were breathing heavily and when you decided to open your eyes again, everything was blurry, “Daddy had to . . . I’m sorry . . . Babydoll,” You heard in your ear. You were moving, he was holding you . . . when had he picked you up? When did the car start driving? You wished badly that you’d listened to Wanda.

You remembered holding onto him tighter, crying into his shoulder, “Why?” He heard the pain in your voice, felt the realization that your life would never be the same.

“Because you’re mine,” He rubbed circled into your back, leaving soft kisses on your cheek, “And I needed to remind you of what your Daddy is capable of. Anyone who hurts you, anyone who even lays a hand on you, is going to meet the same fate.”

“I don’t want this,” You hiccuped. Steve didn’t believe you, not with the way you were holding him. “This . . . it’s so scary, S-Steve.”

“I’m sorry I had to scare you, baby,” It reminded him of last year when things were good between you two, and you comfortably moved in and out of little space. He could sense you were dying to go to that safe space and, selfishly, he was hoping the trauma of tonight would push you into that mindset, “Daddy’s going to take better care of you. You’ll live with me now, where you’ll be safe.”

You only closed your eyes, no fight left in you. In the world of Steve Rogers, you didn’t think safety existed.

You awoke in a pink cloud. The sheets were so soft, heavenly even, and it almost made you forget your situation. You felt something crawling on top of the sheets and you sat up quickly, almost giving yourself whiplash. Realizing it was a furry, white creature, you relaxed, “Alpine, you scared me,” The cat crawled into your embrace and you pet it gently, wondering where exactly it’s owner was.

As you looked around what you assumed was your new room, you couldn’t help but be a bit impressed. You almost forgot how well Steve knew you. Elegant white furniture, a canopy bed with white fabric falling from the sides, a huge wardrobe, a bookcase, a mountain of stuffed animals - frogs, elephants, dolphins, practically the entire animal kingdom - and the fairy lights were a nice touch.

Maybe you were more than impressed. Astounded, actually.

“Oh my . . . stars,” You climbed out of the queen-sized bed, cat in your arms, and quickly realized that your lingerie was gone and your glitter had been washed away. Did he give you a bath? While you were sleeping? You dressed in a large t-shirt and as you brought the fabric up to your nose, you realized it was his, “Why didn’t you warn me that he was this off his rocker, Alpine?”

The cat only responded with a quiet meow.

You moved over to the window and, expectedly, it didn’t budge when you tried to push it open. You looked out onto the vast landscape, perfectly manicured rolling hills of green, a garden, Olympic sized pool, beautiful white statues, and armed guards to match.

It was like you remembered though Steve didn’t bring you to his “private home” often. The two of you always met in the city and, what started as an interesting sugar arrangement, quickly blossomed into a new dynamic.

You wandered around the room, examining every detail that he had put into it. You imagined the military man had placed a lot of the objects himself, making sure everything was perfect when you saw it.

The room is also gigantic, you could do at least ten cartwheels from one wall to the other. You’d never imagined living somewhere like this, the room itself was bigger than any place you’d ever lived.

As the door creaked open, Alpine leaped from your arms, taking the opportunity to escape. You watched the creature crawl between Steve’s legs before slipping out, probably going to look for Bucky. As your eyes traveled up his figure, you assumed he’d be dressed down in his home but the businessman was clad in another suit.

You were glad not to be crying anymore but seeing him now was reminding you of the horror show that was last night, “My things, I had money in my bag,” Was the first thing you thought to say, “I want it.”

“You don’t need it,” He said what you assumed he would.

“But-” You stopped yourself, “Can you give it to Wanda, please?”

“Please and thank you?” Steve cocked his eyebrow, smirking, “I wasn’t expecting that from you today.”

You didn’t respond, only crossed your arms defiantly, “I want Wanda to have it.”

“Done,” Steve raised his hands in surrender, “Is that all you want? Can I interest you in breakfast, little one?”

He didn’t know how deeply his words cut into you. How you wanted nothing more than to forget your worries and be his little girl. How you’d probably get on your knees and kindly do anything he asked . . . if this was a perfect world. You tried to shake that feeling because this world was anything but perfect.

“I guess,” Your hunger suddenly crossing your mind.

He nodded, a smile threatening to form on his lips, “Do you want help getting ready?” You quickly shook your head and you assumed he knew that it would be your response, “Well, I picked something out for you. I left it in the bathroom.”

“So what, I’m supposed to . . . wear whatever you want and be your little trophy?”

“And if you sit still and look pretty, Daddy will buy you anything you want,” Your eyes narrowed at him and you looked away, knowing you’d probably burst into flames if you looked at the annoying smirk any longer, “I’ll come to get you in ten minutes.”

You were already walking towards the bathroom, feeling his eyes on you the entire way. The bathroom was even more immaculate than the bedroom, a big chandelier hanging from the tall ceiling, with sleek marble fixtures. You avoided the mirror when the thick makeup came off at the end of the day, so you were shocked seeing your bare face. It made you look . . . innocent. It was the opposite image the club wanted to present.

You found a new toothbrush in one of the drawers and proceeded to brush your teeth, before washing your face.

The dress he’d picked out was frilly and white, a stark but beautiful contrast to your skin. It puffed at the sleeves but grabbed your waist and then flounced out when reaching down to your knees. You did a small twirl, letting the ends of the dress softly caress the tips of your fingers. Realizing you liked it quite a lot made you frown in the mirror.

Most likely, there was no racy lingerie and tassels in that wardrobe. He said you looked beautiful last night but there was no chance he’d let you ever look like that again, especially in front of his men.

When you left the bathroom and realized Steve had not returned, you decided to slip out of the room. You wandered down the big hallway, your bare feet padding against the carpet, as you examined each piece of artwork and decoration. Steve’s taste was expensive but his style was old-fashioned, choosing elegance over flashy things.

You admired it for a second and then remembered the blood spilled, the money stolen, and the dirty things that funded it.

“I thought I said I’d come and get you.”

You turned around, noticing how his breath caught in his throat as he took you in. He was deadly, he killed a man right in front of you, yet he was like a teenager in love when he saw you.

You mentally cursed.

“Are you full?” He asked, looking at your plate of a half-eaten pancake. There was still a feast laid out in front of you which was tempting but you couldn’t help but see it as consuming more of his forbidden fruit.

You only nodded and his lips pressed into a thin line.

He was holding back, you could tell. He wanted to make sure you were fully nourished and he’d probably prefer to feed you himself.

“Eat more,” He added, “Please-”

You stood up abruptly, “I want to look for Alpine,” You made a move to leave the dining room but, as you passed his chair, he grabbed a hold of your wrist. He gripped you stronger as you tried to pull away.

“After you eat more,” He commanded.

“I’m not hungry,” Your eyes didn’t meet his eyes.

“Babydoll, can’t you see I’m trying to play nice?” He tried to hide the venom in his tone, “I could’ve bent you over my knee already for not addressing me properly. Do you want that?”

You shook your head.

“Use your words, please.”

“No.”

“No what?”

“No, I don’t want that . . . Daddy.”

When you made a move to go back to your seat, he grabbed your arm tighter, “Sit with me,” He said but his tone was softer than before. You sat down on his knee and, instinctively, his arm wrapped around your torso, holding you in place, “Relax.”

You turned your head closer to him, the familiar feeling of being in his arms led your muscles to relax. He brought pieces of fruit to your mouth and, as you opened your mouth for him, you heard, “Good girl.”

When he first wanted to do things like this with you, he told you to imagine the things you liked when you were younger. You told him that you never had a lot of toys, never got a lot of praise, and that you were always the one taking care of others, not the other way around. What he made you feel was foreign but it satisfied a need you never knew you had.

“You haven’t been eating enough,” He commented. You shrugged and he frowned a bit, “Three meals a day from now on. And snacks. And lots of water.”

“And what if I don’t, Daddy?” You challenged, more playful than you intended.

Steve gave you a look that was much too loving for you to hold his gaze, “How about, if you do, then I’ll give you a reward . . .” His voice trailed off as he thought for a moment, “What would you like?”

“I wanna go back to the city-”

Steve smirked, “Something realistic, preferably,” It took everything in you not to roll your eyes, “A new outfit? . . . A new toy? . . . I know what you want.”

“No, you don’t,” You pouted.

“Stickers,” He answered, proud when he saw you perk up, “Sparkly, butterfly ones probably.”

“I don’t-”

He interrupted your lie, tickling your side, and you tried not to smile, “You love those little things! You’d probably prefer it over a designer bag or a trip to europe.”

“They’re not expensive and I like collecting them,” You tried to explain, your voice low.

“Then that’ll be it. A week of not skipping meals will get you a special sticker for your chart, we’ll even hang it on the fridge.”

You didn’t mind the idea . . . you could have so many stickers after a long while.

“A week,” You repeated, “How long do you expect for me to stay here?”

“There’s lots to do, you won’t get bored,” He spoke dismissively, probably frustrated by your question. You opened your mouth to respond but was interrupted when the table started shaking, Steve’s phone vibrating on top of it.

“Rogers,” Steve answered, pressing the phone to his ear, “Yes, I’m aware . . you told me that you took care of him . . . I don’t need to tell you how to do your job, you’re just supposed to do it . . . he’ll listen if it comes from me . . . i’ll handle it, okay? . . . Babydoll,” He softly patted your knee, “Why don’t you go look for Alpine?”

You took that as your cue that he was about to start cursing and didn’t want you around to hear it.

An hour later, you were wandering around the garden and Steve still hadn’t tried to find you. You guessed that he was busy with his work now but you were more focused on finding Alpine. You’d search every inch of the inside of the house and now there was only one place left. You realized that you could also start thinking about a way out of this place.

“Here kitty, kitty,” Your eyebrows raised as you heard an unfamiliar voice. You wandered further along the path, trying to look through the greenery, before stumbling upon an opening with a large fountain in the middle. Alpine was walking around the top of it, frustrating the man trying to get him down from such a tall height.

He was one of Steve’s men, you could tell by the dark clothing, though you didn’t recognize him. He was much younger, and honestly, more attractive than a lot of them. You could tell the light had gone out in a lot of the people that Steve kept around. You could already tell he wasn’t like that, “Come on, dude, now you’re just messing with me!”

The cat seemed to brush him off, continuing to walk along the edge.

“You have to be more gentle than that,” You said, knowing you would startle him. It amused you a little how he seemed to jump out of his skin. His hand held over his heart, you could tell he was a bit taken aback by your appearance. You moved toward the fountain, holding your arms out for it, “C’mere, Alpine, the scary man won’t hurt you.”

His eyes were wide as the cat easily jumped into your arms, “He obviously doesn’t like me,” He said, watching as you brushed Alpine’s ears with your fingers, “And yet Bucky always puts me on cat duty.”

“Maybe Bucky is the one that doesn’t like you,” You responded.

He frowned, “Yeah, maybe you’re right,” You walked towards you, encouraging Alpine to climb into his arms. Alpine seemed to listen, welcoming his touch, “He’s never been this nice to me. Are you some kind of animal whisperer?”

You giggled a bit, “I’m Y/N.”

Peter’s mouth formed an “o” shape like he was connecting the dots in his mind, “I-I’m Peter . . . aren’t you like . . . not supposed to be out here?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. Am I?” He seemed to panic for a moment, “I mean, I didn’t get the brief that Steve probably gave you all.”

“Right,” He nodded nervously, “Do you . . . should I walk you back to the house?”

“Actually, can you walk me to my room? I don’t think I remember where it was,” You played dumb.

“Yeah, sure,” He agreed.

Perfect. He was perfect. If there was a way out of here, he was it.

You didn’t see Steve until later that night. He was right in the fact that you didn’t get bored, there were a million things to do even in your own room. You’d floated away, your mind now completely occupied by the coloring page you were scribbling on.

As Steve sat on the side of your bed, you felt the weight of his day come down with him. Another reason he kept your arrangement before was because you provided stress relief after a long day. He touched your hair, patting your head, and you turned your head to look at him.

“Did you have lunch?” He asked and you nodded sheepishly, “Dinner?” You nodded again.

“Maria made sure I ate.”

He leaned down to press a kiss to the side of your head, “Good girl. Wanna show me what you’re working on?”

You sat up from your position, moving the picture book into his lap, “It’s me and you,” Steve couldn’t help but chuckle as he looked down at the picture of Belle and the Beast.

“You’re funny,” Steve smiled, his eyes getting those little crinkles at the side.

“Did you end up handling your business?” You asked curiously.

“I did, actually,” He responded, failing to elaborate, “And that’s all you need to know.”

You closed your book, tossing it to the side, and standing up on the bed. You walked over to the pillows and plopped down, “Don’t you think it's a little unfair to hide things? I want to hear a story before bed. Or are your stories too scary?”

You were only teasing him but as he turned over, crawling towards you, your heart began to race, “Did I ever tell you the story about the little girl who always ran her mouth?”

You shook your head, and Steve let you stew a moment longer before he pounced. He grabbed your ankle, pulling you down onto you back, as he climbed on top of you, “Well, she was always mad at her Daddy because he was . . . very protective. Her Daddy had to fix this, of course, he couldn’t have such a naughty little girl trying to boss him around. He didn’t punish her though, he just fucked her until she couldn’t speak.”

“I don’t like this one-” You were interrupted when his lips crashed down on yours.

You felt suffocated by him, trapped beneath his love, until you started to move your lips against his. You must’ve been just as crazy as he was for wanting this.

You gasped for air when he finally pulled away. You watched him hurriedly take off his already unbuttoned, button down, and undo his belt. You were sliding your dress sleeves off, trying to get your panties down your leg. When they were around your ankles, he tore them away, throwing them to the side.

Your lips were on his again, “Steve-” He grabbed your wrist roughly, pinning them above your head with one hand, and he grabbed your face with the other.

“Call me Daddy,” He demanded, sinking between your hips.

“Steve-” You felt a quick sting across your cheek and Steve watched a fire build in your eyes.

“Bad girl,” He sunk his hard member into you, causing your head to tilt back. He was anything but gentle, moving in and out of you with long and hard strokes, “You’re such a bad girl.”

“Tell me you want my cum,” He grunted, breathing hard against your skin, “Tell me.”

“I want your cum,” You rushed out, an orgasm already building as he maintained his pace. You missed this so much. If there was one thing, you missed. He was the first person to ever make you cum without oral sex. Before him, you didn’t even know your body could do this.

“Say it,” He continued, “Say it, little girl.”

He was going to slow down if you didn’t and that was the last thing you wanted, “I want your cum, Daddy,” You gasped out, your body convulsing beneath him, “I want it so bad, Daddy.”

He finished deep inside you, your body tightly wrapping around him, and sweat covering your bodies. You were coming down from the high when the panic set in. Why did you let him do that? And why did you want it?

He was holding you and, as your tears began to fall, he pulled you into him, “It’s okay,” He cooed, “I’ve got ya’. You’re going to be just fine, Babydoll.”

part two

#dark fic #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #steve rogers smut #peter parker x reader #steve rogers x black!reader #mafia!steve rogers #mafia!bucky #captain america x reader #mafia au #bucky barnes #sam wilson #steve rogers #peter parker #wanda maximoff #marvel smut #marvel fanfiction #dark marvel #black!reader

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deceitful-darlings · 3 years ago

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Yo, I'm kinda scared to ask this but since evil!au Diasomia are cannibals, what are they gonna do to MC? Like I read a fic way back where someone would eat a part of someone else, heal them, and do it all over again, is this something similar to that? Are Diasomia gonna be really bad? What else would they do? Also, I knew your blog was nsfw coming in, but recently it seems like it's been amped up, this evil!au shit's dark D:

Haha, it certainly ramped up in the past few days, who knew people would love gore and violence so much! A reminder that if this kind of thing makes you uncomfortable please block me, I don’t want to trigger anyone with my content, be it sexual or violent in nature.

Up until this point, any human that fell into Diasomnia’s hands ended up on their plates pretty quickly, mainly because they only get human meat they get is when Sam acquires it. They can subside on other things, but human meat is what they’re designed to ingest.

It depends on which character, if they’ve actually fallen in love with you, a whole host of variables change how fast you end up a meal, if at all.

In the lightest version of evil!au, you won’t ever be touched, but you will be forced to eat human meat to fit in with the dorm. The threat will constantly be there, you can’t complain about the diet as Silver, another human, eats it with no complaints.

If you seriously piss them off and they don’t like you, oh boy. Making them angry when they don’t have any affection for you is a one way ticket to a painful death. Fae are not ones to forgive, they don’t mind butchering you like the hunk of meat you are while you’re still alive and breathing, strapping you down as they discuss the best section of meat you’ll provide. It’ll hurt like hell, but at least your body will be put to good use.

Characters like Lilia will absolutely take a chunk out of you only to heal it up. It’s a fresh supply of meat and a lover he can torment in one, what’s not to love? Don’t think behaving will spare you, if Lilia gets hungry he’ll get what he wants one way or another, be it through tricks or force. He likes teasing you about it, watching you freeze up when he mentions how delicious that piece of your thigh was, how tender your neck was, how the meat of your arm melted in his mouth, you turn as pale as a sheet, or green, there’s never any in between. He’ll run his tongue over his fangs when no-one’s looking, a subtle reminder that he’s the predator, he’ll press those same fangs gently into your neck. No breaking skin, but close enough to feel your pulse racing under his tongue with you knowing he could strike at any moment. How adorable you are getting so stressed, he’s not going to kill you yet you silly human, you’re far too entertaining for now.

Sebek will. That probably isn’t a suprise. To him, humans are nothing more than food, that’s all you’re there for! You should feel honoured that you’re allowing you to stay alive because they want your meat to be in consistent supply! Sebek may just straight up bite you. As in just sink his teeth into your shoulder and rip a chunk out of you. It’s gross, it’s messy, it’s one of the most painful things you’ve experienced in your life, if you’ve been particularly obnoxious he won’t heal the injury immediately, he’ll leave you to continue bleeding until he feels you’ve learned a sufficient lesson. He can’t leave you to die, his family are too excited about having human on the menu again.

Malleus would definitely heal you if you were injured and he loved you. He’s not overly violent, but he’s used to fae customs and one of those is eating humans. Your refusal to change your view frustrates him, but he’s not going to change just because you don’t like something they’ve been doing for as long as records exist. But that doesn’t mean that he won’t love you, which seems bizarre. The reality is just like in canon he wants company, if a human happens to provide that then so be it, you can remain alive. Depending on how close he is to you, he may even execute the one who ate from you, he may even gift you their head. In a similar vein is Silver, he may be human but he was raised by fae, eating human meat is just part of something some fae do, your attitude confuses him more than anything, but he’ll still heal you or take you to someone who can. He won’t just randomly bite you or anything, but if served part of you he won’t turn it down.

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marvelouspeterparker · 4 years ago

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mine

pairing: mob!tom holland x reader

requests: wearing Mob!toms stuff? like maybe his suit jacket but without something under it, to a meeting? + mob!tom goes feral after an enemy flirted with his girl? both by anonymous

warnings: violence and smut

notes: hope you don’t mind that i combined two requests! also check out @geminiparkers mob!tom playlist which coincidentally has this same gif on the page haha + this might as well be dedicated to @duskholland as it is mob monday and she is the queen of mob!tom :)

It wasn’t unusual for you to sit in Tom’s meetings. In fact, he rather enjoyed it. He liked having you as involved as possible, he trusted you with all his heart and he didn’t want to keep you in the dark. He even got you a “throne”, as he called it, to match his in his meeting room. They were two large chairs with intricate and expensive designs on the back rests. As soon as anyone walked into the room, it was clear who was in charge.

Although you had your own seat, you rarely used it. You appreciated it, of course, and when you sat on it you felt powerful, Tom’s hand over yours, his thumb rubbing your skin softly as he barked orders at his men, intimidating every person in the room. You felt like a queen sitting proudly beside her king.

But, as much as you adored your throne, you and Tom both preferred when you sat in your rightful place, in his lap. He liked to wrap his arms around you and hold you sometimes to destress when his men were acting like fools and everything seemed to be going wrong.

Sometimes he would even distract himself, slipping his hands under your clothes, one holding you down as the other made a mess between your thighs. He didn’t care if anyone heard you, and you didn’t either––it was hard to worry about anything else when he had his hands on you.

The men knew not to look at you, only making eye contact with Tom as he spoke, as if nothing were happening. If they did look, they’d be punished. Simple as that. And no one wanted that.

You had just finished eating a snack when you made your way over to the meeting room. You knew that Tom would need your company today, his meeting was with Lorenzo, one of the worst in the business. His actual business was good, and it would be very beneficial to join forces with him, but he was a nightmare. Which is why Tom considered him to be one of his enemies.

The meeting had started a little while ago, but there hadn’t seemed to be any shouting, so you assumed it was going well. You slipped in quietly and noticed Tom perk up when he saw you, but then his eyes trailed over your body and he licked his lips, partially tuning everyone out as he focused on you. You were wearing one of his shirts with a belt tied around your waist, accentuating your figure.

He spread his legs and sat back, waiting for you as you walked along the long table, saying hi to Harrison as you walked by him. You bit your lip and smiled as you reached Tom, his hands immediately pulling you in by your waist. You bent down and gave him a kiss and he smacked your ass before grabbing it possessively, making you squeak and giggle softly.

You sat down on his lap, your body turned into him, your arm hanging loosely around his neck, legs over the chair as you faced the front. He leaned in to whisper in your ear, one arm wrapped around your side, the other on your thigh. “You’re not wearing anything under this, are you?” He bit your earlobe and you could tell he wanted to take you right then and there.

You bit your lip as you looked down at him and that was all the answer you needed. “Christ, you’re trying to kill me.”

You both turned your attention back to the front and you tried not to make a face when you noticed Lorenzo staring at you shamelessly. You took a sharp inhale, knowing this wouldn’t be good––for him. You saw that none of his men were with him, he was so arrogant he often left without backup, stupid, really.

“Y/N,” Lorenzo spoke up, smiling menacingly at you and you felt Tom’s hold tighten. “How are you, beautiful?”

You tried your best not to roll your eyes but your voice was monotone when you responded. “Fine, thanks.”

You could practically hear Tom’s blood boiling as he growled out his next words. “If we could focus on the task at hand, please.”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek and felt a little at ease when you noticed his demeanor lighten up a bit. He squeezed your thigh appreciatively.

Lorenzo leaned back in his chair, annoyingly confident. “Well I’m just saying hello to the pretty girl in your lap.” He licked his teeth, suddenly perking up and you knew this couldn’t possibly be a good thing. “Tell you what. I’ll agree to the terms.”

“Great––”

“If,” he interrupted, “I get one night with the beautiful lady.”

You tensed, your eyes widening and just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, he went on. “All I need is one night for you to realize how much better I am than him, sweetheart.” He winked, “Promise I’ll have you screaming my name.”

Tom made a gesture so fast you barely even saw it, but before you knew it, two of his men grabbed Lorenzo and brought him over to the other end of the table.

Tom tapped your waist and kissed your cheek and you got the message and slid off his lap. You sat in your chair, your legs curled under you, bracing yourself for what was to come.

Lorenzo still had an obnoxious smile on his face and Tom wanted nothing more than to punch it off. So he did. His arm swung forward with no warning, knocking the man’s head back momentarily as Tom’s henchmen held him up. He groaned, wincing as blood coated his teeth, his skin already red. There was no doubt his nose was broken, Tom trained almost every day and he knew how to use his hands, in more ways than one. His fists kept pounding into the man, beating him to a pulp. No one disrespected you and got away with it. By the time he was done, the man could barely stand on his own.

Tom lifted his head roughly, gripping his hair. “You don’t even deserve to breathe the same air as her.” He looked at him, pure loathing in his face as he fixed his suit nonchalantly. “Darling?” He held his hand out for you, his eyes softening immediately as they found you.

You took his hand eagerly and stood next to him. He looked over to the man groaning in pain, his gaze hardening again as he held his head up. “Apologize.”

When he said nothing, Tom raised his fist again and Lorenzo screamed in protest. “Okay okay! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”

Tom dropped his head and stood back, watching him indifferently as he weakly rolled his neck back to lift his head on his own.“Do you accept his apology, love?” His tone was sweet when he talked to you and the shocking contrast in how he treated you turned you on more than it should have.

You let go of his hand and stepped forward. You slapped Lorenzo with all the force you had, your hand stinging from the pain, as he grunted, but you sucked it up. “Fuck no.” You stepped back and found yourself in Tom’s embrace.

Harrison handed Tom a handkerchief to wipe his knuckles and he looked at the two men holding Lorenzo up, “Deal’s off. Take him out of here.” He flicked his wrist towards the door and everyone rushed out, the man’s screams and curses becoming muffled as he was shoved out.

Before the door even shut, Tom threw the handkerchief aside and kissed you, pouring all his frustrations, love and want into it. You sighed and brought your hands up to his hair, loving the way he groaned and pressed himself into you when you pulled at his curls lovingly.

He brought his hands to your waist and pulled off the belt and ripped the buttons open as you sat on the table. “Look at you,” he cooed.You felt your skin heat up under his gaze as he lifted your legs over his shoulders, kneeling down in front of you. When he looked between your legs, he gasped quietly, “Naughty girl, you’re practically dripping.” He looked up at you as he started mouthing at your thigh. “Seeing me defend your honor got you that hot and bothered?”

You nodded unabashedly. “Love seeing you get violent,” you muttered quietly, “It’s my guilty pleasure.” Your hand found it’s way back into his curls, the other holding you up on the table.

He grinned, “Then I guess we’re a perfect match, huh?” He licked into your wet cunt, savoring your taste on his tongue, and you sighed.

“Oh fuck, Tommy.”

“That’s it,” he licked all over your pussy, spreading your wetness and making an even bigger mess as he spit on your clit before sucking it into his mouth, his hands holding your thighs tightly around his head. “Want you to cum all over me. Want you to scream my name, let everyone know you’re mine.”

He buried your face between your legs, moaning as you used him to get off, clearly enjoying himself. He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked hard, letting you squeeze your thighs and grind against him, whines and expletives flying from your mouth freely. It wasn’t long before your head dropped back, a long and breathy “Shit––” falling past your lips as you tensed for a few moments before your body went slack, sinking into the table.

Tom stood up and grabbed you before you could lie back though, pulling a small whine from you. He got rid of his belt and unbuttoned his pants before pulling his cock out. He was hard, leaking, his tip a prominent red. Seeing you in his clothes, then seeing you slap the shit out of Lorenzo really did something to him.

He grinned, his lips still shining from your release, and pulled you back into his lap. With shaky legs, you climbed up and slung one leg over him, grabbing his cock and sliding him in slowly. “Oh god––” you gasped, your eyes fluttering shut as you leaned your forehead against his.

His hands slid up your legs all the way to your waist before one hand slid up to the side of your face. He tilted his head up and pressed his lips against your parted ones, practically inviting him to capture them in his own. “Look at me baby, can you do that? Wanna see your pretty eyes while I fuck you.”

You whimpered and clenched around him making him buck into you and hiss. You opened your eyes slowly, the dazed look in them making him twitch inside of you. You turned your head and kissed his palm before leaning in and kissing him again, practically melting into him, your mouths merging together, your bodies pressed as close as possible as he guided your movements with one hand.

You were grinding into him, too focused on the pleasure to think about the cold room and the fact that you were fully naked and he was still clothed. But you knew if you did think about it, it would only turn you on even more.

His hand on your waist slid down and grabbed your ass, smacking it occasionally as the other held the back of your neck and pulled you into him. The kiss was messy and wet and filled with tongue and passion, but you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way––you just wanted him.

You pulled away reluctantly to take a breath, panting as you watched each other hungrily. You started bouncing up and down on his cock and both his hands grabbed your ass, slamming you down onto him. “That’s it, princess. Just like that. You know how to take my cock, don’t you?”

Even though the question was rhetorical, only meant to rile you up, you nodded, bouncing faster with purpose, your eyes glued to his, your hands digging into his shoulders as you moved yourself up and down.

He grabbed you, taking charge and thrusting his hips into you with force and speed, your high the only thing on his mind, his not far in tow.

“Want you to give it to me, darling. Can you do that for me?”

You cursed in response, your eyes shutting as you stopped your movements, leaving Tom to hold you up and buck his hips into you, desperately chasing his own release. You whimpered, your body still sensitive as you stared at him, your jaw dropped open. “Cum for me baby. Please. Wanna––feel you.”

His gaze darkened and he came not long after, a loud groan escaping him as his thrusts slowed down and eventually stopped. He pulled you down onto his cock, letting you rest on him and you whined, your whole body feeling like a live-wire.

He ran his hands up and down your back, before sliding down to grab your ass. You arched into his touch and leaned into his chest, purring softly and kissing his neck. When he spoke up you trailed your kiss up to his cheek before pulling back to look at him, your hands on his chest.

“Next time anyone tries anything like that I’m fucking you in front of them, I don’t care who it is. Then I’m beating them to a bloody pulp.” His grip tightened, “It’ll be the last thing they ever see.”

Oh there was definitely something wrong with you, because hearing his threat only made you clench around him. But maybe you really were the perfect match for each other, as he said, because as soon as he felt your reaction, he smiled up at you and you knew from the look in his eyes that you wouldn’t be leaving this room any time soon.

#queue tell em #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland request #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #mob!tom holland #mob!tom holland x reader #mob!tom holland imagine #mob!tom holland fic #tom holland oneshot #mob!tom holland oneshot #mob!tom holland smut #tom holland smut

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whosjunglejim4322 · 4 years ago

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Umbra | J. Seo (m)

》 Genre: vampire au! Smut, fluff, minor angst and mentions of violence, This story also features Yuta, Taeyong, Jaehyun, Jungwoo, Doyoung and Mark as his coven members

》 Warnings: spitting, dry humping, mentions of blood obvi, mentions of feeding, strong boy trying not to fuck you into oblivion, his eyes get black he's when he's hungry/horny, disgusting amount of fluff, omg sorta strength kink? Johnny is very in love w you and very protective cause some of his brothers are out of pocket, Jungwoo wants to b ur bestie lowkey, Yuta is a lil shit

Chapter 2

There are many things that Johnny loves about you. He could spend all his time showering you with professions of his adoration, and he'd never grow tired of it. Though, his concept of time and yours are slightly different.

He's patient, excessively so sometimes, in your humble opinion. But, he also never expected in his three hundred and forty five years of existence, to find someone who manages to warm his cold and stagnant heart in the way you have.

Now, anytime away from you is a bit bothersome.

It's just, he never knew humans like you existed. In his world, there are either those who lust after his kind and the benefits in which their heightened senses and skills provide, or those who see him as a complete moral abomination.

Even now, in a society that has to live in conjunction with vampires, there are still so many people who fear him. Well, they fear what they think he is. A creature of the night, a demon, something that is only greedy for strife and nothing more.

You were the first person who genuinely throttled him, curious and wide eyed, completely fascinated by him. And not in a way that made him feel like he was under a microscope, but in a way that made him feel as though he was something...to be admired.

Your heartbeat, even after a year, still flutters like the wings of dragonfly whenever he displays his strength; swinging you up into his arms like you're made of feathers and all things delicate.

At first, he thought you were scared, weary, perhaps, about his abnormalities. He couldn't find any other explanation for the way you seemed to shrink in his presence whenever he'd dip his head below your chin to grace your throat with his lips, cooling your hot skin.

It didn't make sense. Not until he realized there is a direct correlation to your change and scent, and these moments in which he can be himself around you.

You like it. You like that he's different, a complete opposite to what you'd find in the common world. If he thought he could be any more enamored, anymore breathless than he was before (no pun intended) he was wrong.

Even now, with you lying with your back against his hard chest, playing with his slim fingers, your voice is nothing but earnest. Curious, in your own little world that consists of just you and him.

He thinks, no he knows, that if he had a pulse it would be racing every time he's around you. Every time you ask him a question that would normally repulse anyone else, even when you place his cool palm against your blazing cheek, giddy about the difference in temperature. He can tell that you just want to know more about him, about how he exists in the world. He simply can't resist indulging you.

"So...everyone doesn't taste the same? I always just assumed that blood is, well, blood." He smiles to himself as you trace shapes into his palm, before flipping his hand over and grazing your fingertips over his protruding knuckles.

The feeling of your skin against his is so pleasant he almost gets distracted.

"Well, it depends, really," his free hand strokes up and down your arms, savoring the softness. "sometimes the difference is slight, like someone who's A or B negative, but other times it can be quite stark. It's about chemistry really."

He can already see your expression in his head, furrowed brows, lips pursed in a manner too cute for your own good. He absentmindedly pushes you further against his chest, reclining slightly against the pillows as to make it more comfortable for you. You hum in satisfaction.

"Chemistry? Like how you feel about the person?" He can't quite pinpoint what is laced within the lilt of your voice, he answers nonetheless, chuckling warmly.

The sound is like pure velvet, causing your skin to tingle. You shiver, and he pulls your blanket over you, worried his lack of body heat may be disturbing your comfort. He doesn't realize how wrong he is.

"It's more like, how that person has lived. Their natural...how do I say...essence? Yes, their essence sometimes can determine how desirable some ones blood is to us."

He doesn't miss the way your heartbeat falters in rythm. He grins, as you take both of his hands in yours and intertwine your fingers. He twists his wrist and brings your knuckles up to his lips, kissing your skin.

You shift underneath the covers, suddenly thankful for his cool temperature. You know that most of the vampires that exist in society use blood bags from the banks provided, but you still wonder...

"Am I...am I desirable to you? Like, my blood, or whatever." You wish you could say you usually aren't so bad at speaking when you're around him, but that would be a blatant lie.

It's the most endearing thing he's ever witnessed.

His hands are gone from yours and elsewhere in the blink of an eye, one strong arm locked around your torso as his free hand reaches down to cup your chin. He turns and lifts your head towards him, gently, and the look in his eyes has your breath stalling momentarily.

"Of course you are, silly," he says it as if it's the most obvious thing ever, leaning down to peck your nose. Butterflies swarm violently in your belly. "I desire you in every way there is to desire someone, it makes me want to keep you all to myself. No one else should be allowed to even think about you, or your blood, in that way."

He looks lost in thought for a second, pupils almost darkening the whole of his irises, before he seemingly brings himself out of his daze. You turn in his hold, adjusting your position so that you're practically lying on top of him, chests touching and your legs cradled between his hips. He holds you effortlessly in his arms.

"Well it wouldn't matter anyways, cause I'm all yours." His pearly teeth show from behind the pillowy surface of his lips, as he leans in to kiss you in a manner that has you reaching out to wrap your hand around the nape of his neck.

"Mhm, all mine." He murmurs, nose nudging against yours as he shifts back and forth from your top lip, and then your bottom, tongue exploring the surface of each.

Kissing you, is another experience entirely for him. He wonders if it feels for you as it does for him, like pure intoxication. It brings back memories, memories he didn't think could still be reachable in the depths of his mind.

A time where he was warm, where life thrummed through his veins like the rushing current of a river. You are springtime on his tongue, the rays of sunlight that once heated his skin, the smell of flora in the air that mingles with the fleeting breeze.

He almost whines when you depart from his mouth, yearning already heavy in the pit of his stomach.

You look almost nervous, suddenly finicking with the front of his shirt as you sit back on his lap. He can hear the acceleration of your heartbeat, can smell the anxiety that is almost as heady as your desire.

He reaches out to cup your cheek, something he often does as a comforting gesture. You smile softly, meeting his curious, tepid gaze.

"So...I have a question," your voice shakes and you huff. "I mean, I was just wondering," he senses your struggle, wrapping his arms around you and sitting up so that your chests are nearly touching again, his palms splayed against your lower back.

"You can ask me anything, sweetheart. You know that." His voice, as sweet as honey, calms your racing pulse for a moment. Until you actually say the words out loud, wincing as if preparing for a scolding.

"Well I know you have a family, of sorts, from what you've told me. And I know you've always been really...hesitant to tell me more about them? I mean I've never been over, to your home or met them,"

Understanding washes over him, hands rubbing your back soothingly as the glint in his irises provokes an odd sensation within your belly. Like he knew this conversation would have to be had one day.

He lets you finish speaking, though your voice has even more of a tremor than before, now.

"Sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable, I understand if you don't want me over there."

Urgency calcifies in his chest, the sad lilt to your soft voice making him feel ill. The way you say it is as if you think he doesn't want you in his space, like he's keeping you away from there because of something other than rational reasoning, doesn't sit right with him.

He cups your jaw, firmly but gently.

"I want you with me as much as possible, never think that I don't want you. That is not at all why I haven't brought you over there," You have no choice but to believe him, when he's looking at you with such a passionate gaze far heavier than what you're used to in a normal setting, his words concise.

"I am...well I'm old, and so are they. I've spent a long time being alienated, far before we were even accepted in the new world. We've settled here since before you were born, so you won't remember what it was like when people were forced to live along side us."

You hate hearing the unusual grain of what seems to be dejection in his tone, though you listen fervently anyways, his hands still comforting you despite the fact that his eyes are the ones cast down. You want to kiss the furrow between his dark brows.

"I've accepted who I am, furthermore I've accepted who I want to be. I realized that, it would do me no good to be a monster if people were willing, even if begrudgingly, to accept our existence. But my brothers,"

Your stomach sinks at the way he says it, knowing without a doubt that this is the answer to your original question, that his stance had to be explained before he told you something like this.

"they don't feel the same way as me, so they are stuck in their ways beyond coercion. They live very different lives, they are what our kind refer to as nightcrawlers, it's sardonic inside joke for those of us that would rather not conform to the new age of mutual concurrency."

"They are still a bit resentful for the fact that they can't exactly give in to their natural instincts. They don't see the humans acceptance as welcoming, they see it as a mockery. Do you see where I'm coming from?"

You look a bit out of it, like maybe you're frightened and he's suddenly worried he's gone overboard, that he's scared you in a way that can't be fixed. His eyes are suddenly frantic.

But then you speak, and you don't sound vexed, nor unsettled. Your question is simple, your thighs tightening around his waist as if to draw yourself closer to his comfort, arms looping around his shoulders.

"Do they all feel that way?"

He smiles, muscles untensing as you play with his hair in the way you usually do. Your eyes never leave his, and he wonders how he got so lucky.

"The youngest, well the youngest in our years, they're a bit less malicious about it. They don't cross anyone unless someone crosses them, but they can be excessively territorial because of their youth."

The tension, despite talking about a topic so heavy, is light again. You feel a bit silly now, understanding why he might not want you in close proximity with his coven.

But, still, knowing that there are people, for lack of better term, that have been in his life unimaginably long; a completely different, solidified version of a family, it makes you more nosey than usual. Could they really be that different from him?

"And...you're sure that if I were to meet them, it would end badly?" His eyebrow twitches in an inquisitive manner, surprise coloring his sharp features.

"I- well I thought you were just curious, I didn't think you'd actually want to meet them. Especially after all of that,"

It's as if he's speaking to himself out loud, his pink tongue flicking out to wet his lips. You resist the urge to kiss him so suddenly.

"but I don't suppose so. It's already established that you're mine. If there's one rule we follow, it's that. They know how I feel about you, despite our differences."

The sturdiness to his voice when he speaks of you being his, has your belly filling with heat at an irrational rate, and you suddenly remember how it felt to see him before you actually got to know him.

He's incredibly intimidating on the surface, firm and stoic. You can't see how anyone would want to anger him.

"So then I'd be safe, meeting them. And I'd get to see if you guys really have furniture."

Despite not needing to, he swallows. It's hard impossible to say no to you, when you look at him like that and sound so genuinely interested at a prospect that would make any other person run for the hills, even cracking jokes.

You're soft, and too innocent for your own good. He should say no, but to risk seeing a pout form on your soft lips, or having to hear the disappointment in your voice, it's unbearable.

"You really want to meet them, don't you?" He can't fight his smile when your face lights up like that.

"Well, I think it's important. They're your family, one way or another." You're gentle when you speak, honest.

"You're safe with me, you have to know that. But they're...not used to being around humans that aren't just accessories. The last thing I want is for one of them to say something that makes you uncomfortable."

It's evident in the low timbre of his tone that he's serious, and any smart person might listen. But as he said, and as you believe wholeheartedly, you're safe with him. Safer than you'd ever be.

And, as wrong as it may be, you want to see what other vampires are like. You're really only used to Johnny, the exception, where as most modern vampires only come out when absolutely necessary. Meeting him, and falling in love with him, has given you a brand new sight towards the world. Is it that insane to want to meet his brothers that have been so close to him for so long?

"I'll be with you, so it won't matter. I'll bet they're not even that scary, no ones scarier than you."

Your triumphant, playful smile has him grinning from ear to ear, leaning down to capture your lips between his own. Even though you're wrong about them, he's weak. Too weak.

"Yeah? Afraid I'll eat you for breakfast?" His breath is suddenly against your earlobe and you shudder pleasantly, grasping onto his shoulders before regaining some sort of composure.

"I'm definitely dinner, breakfast is really overrated. Unless it's breakfast for dinner, that's way better for some reason?"

He's kissing you again, despite the fact that he's smiling too hard for his own good, swiftly flipping you over so that you're caged underneath his body. His weight is barely perceptible even with your chests touching, forearms holding himself up.

"You'll be the death of me, you know that?" He has a hard time speaking without strain due to the way his throat has suddenly tightened with need, your legs wrapping around his trim torso and pushing his hips further against yours.

"Not possible, unless I've suddenly charmed your heart into beating again." You tease, though his eyebrows remain furrowed in concentration as he kisses you between words, dangerously sensual. You smell too divine.

"Very possible, actually. If you only knew how you make me feel."

Your belly lurches at the desperation that flows from him, his aura downright fever inducing. Without thinking, your crotch nudges his, bucking with the slightest of movements. But it's enough, enough to have his jaw clenching and a habitual breath of restraint leaving his nose.

Five fingers grasp your chin, so he can kiss you, hard. His hips begin to roll as his teeth nibble your bottom lip, the fabric of his jeans an arousing juxtaposition to your soft lounge shorts, your lack of underwear making it all the more satisfying.

He's hard, too. Knowing his dick is just underneath, hard for you, it'll never not give you whiplash. It gets you drunk, knowing your effect on him is as overwhelming as his on you. You're whimpering against his tongue, rubbing yourself on his bulge.

"Mmm, fuck." He growls, capturing your wrists in his palms before your next breath, raising them above your head and making sure they're comfortable against the pillows.

He's inches away from your face now, and his expression alone is enough to have your walls pulsing around nothing, desire seeping into your chest and hardening your nipples, goosebumps forming across your skin.

He looks at you like he's hungry, nostrils flaring avariciously. He tries so very hard to fight the darkness that fills his sclera like ink, knowing how very monstrous and unlike himself it makes him appear.

But he hears the way it makes your heart race. He can practically taste the thrill that seeps from your pores, the unbridled arousal that drips from your cunt like syrup. Your neck cranes upwards to try and reach his lips, and he smirks before meeting you halfway.

"Do you want me to keep rubbing your pussy like this," he looks down between your bodies and purposely rolls his hips in an accentuated fashion. "or do you want my dick?"

His voice is brusque, but caring and accommodating as it always is, his plump lips quivering slightly from the way his mouth waters.

"Can I have your dick, please?" You return, his mouth quirking up into a sideways grin.

"Such good manners," he kisses you again, sloppily, the sounds lewd and causing you to shiver against his unwavering body. "how could I ever deny you?"

You blink, and cool air is breezing against your wet slit, the nakedness sending a wave of tingles through your nerve endings. Before you can look down, you feel his cock against your clit, smooth and rounded tip gathering wetness from your hole before circling it over your clit.

He uses one hand to keep your legs parted for his viewing, fingers softly gripping your flesh as he sits back on his haunches. You feel impatience crawling up your throat, toes already curling as your bud throbs and your walls ache.

He's so pretty, he is raven hair against olive skin, an onyx sky against shimmering stars. Your hands reach out for his hips, delicate but fierce in their strength. He rubs his shaft against your folds, before prodding at your entrance.

He always watches your expression when he first slides in, the way your mouth falls open and you are suddenly this beautiful, agonizingly worked up thing. He bites down on his bottom lip as his eyes flicker from your pussy, lovlier than a flower and welcoming him with a squeeze, to your face.

Your eyes are bleary as they stare back up at him, your breathing already erratic. His lip curls with the need to hiss, to ravage you. But he takes it slow, he loves watching you fall apart too much. And you're so wet around him, moaning his name like it's the only word you know.

"Johnnyyyy, oh - umph." He rocks into, gracefully and with a deliberate curl. You claw at the front of his tee shirt, pulling him down to your face.

He eagerly obliges, meeting your lips with a soft smack, the angle only pushing him deeper within your body. His pace has increased, the front of his thighs colliding with the back of yours. His mouth somehow remains steady, as if he's not fucking you like he is.

He's parting from you sooner than you'd like, but you know he likes to fuck you like this, able to see all of you and savor it. It's still the most incredible thing he'll ever witness or experience, he's sure of it.

He can't believe a creature like him could be so lucky, here with his manhood buried to the hilt inside of someone so breathtaking, so innately divine. Your essence is thick and wet, coating his shaft each time he pulls out.

"Such a pretty pussy, so fuckin' pretty baby." His voice is gruff, nose twitching and eyes black. You wrap your fingers around his strong, sturdy forearms as his hands grip the softness of your waist. His lips purse and a string of spit dribbles down your clit.

"Ungh, oh my- ohhhhh Johnny please please." You're not sure what your begging for, and it doesn't matter. Because he'll give you whatever it is you need before you know you need it, already hooking your legs over his broad shoulders, gripping your jaw and pushing it up so that he can mouth at your sensitive neck.

"Mmm, I got you baby, I'm right here," he takes your earlobe in his mouth before marking your throat, licking and sucking. "I can already feel your belly tensing sweetheart, gonna make a mess for me?"

All you can do is nod, eyes squeezed shut and hands exploring his firm abdomen while he pushes himself all the way into you; rocking his hips back and forth to make sure the tip of his cock is rubbing that sweet spot inside of you. Your clit is being stimulated in the process, and you know you're not going to last long.

He knows it too, and his thumb is suddenly on your swelling bud, rubbing you in circles faster than you can comprehend, but with just enough pressure to have your nails digging into his back with fervor. Having unbreakable skin must be a plus, in his case.

You're tensing more now, twitching even. Your energy is buzzing around him, electric. Your heart pounds like a drum, rattling against your ribcage and causing blood to thrum viciously throughout your veins. His thrusts become a bit more frantic, his senses completely overcome with you.

He's so lost in his own pleasure he doesn't even hear you cum. He feels you go limp underneath him, back arching off the bed and your walls spasming around his cock.

He realizes now that you're trying to shove your face in the pillows, a silent sob ripping through your body. He's pulling you to him, and you're suddenly in his lap, as he comforts you with a soothing coo.

When you move your face from the crook of his neck and he's met with your teary eyes and damp skin, he's thrown off the edge.

Your forehead is against his as he bites back a snarl of sorts, pumping into you from below with as much restraint as he can muster as to not overwhelm you since you've just cum as well.

He has to move his hands away from you for a quick second, opting for the bed sheets instead while you cling onto him and kiss his cheeks, his jaw, his neck. He feels selfish, but he also doesn't want to crush your hip bones in such a state.

Your breathing is still uneven, even after several minutes and once he's sure that he's in his right frame of mind, his arms are around you again.

Your body is sweetly ravaged by his mouth, lips leaving a wet trail over too much skin in such a short amount of time. You're still sensitive, wincing as his enthusiasm causes you to shift on his lap.

"Oh." He uses one arm to wrap around your middle, slowly pulling you off of his dick and lying you down against the comforter.

You whine at the loss of contact as he disappears, returning in a blur with a warm, damp cloth. He's in between your legs, wiping away your shared mess and muttering soft sorrys when he's just a smidge too rough. You're still embarrassed by his need to take care of you like this, bashfully looking away.

You don't realize he's gone and returned until the covers are being thrown over your body, his arms securing you to his solid chest and his lips against your ear.

"You need sleep, don't argue." He kisses the back of your head and you smile to yourself, snuggling further against his figure. You feel like you're being warmed from the inside out, despite how cool his skin is against yours.

"M'not gonna argue, you made me tired," The thump of your pulse and the shy lilt to your voice satisfies him, and he wishes that he could make love to you all over again.

"When will you take me to go meet the others?" Your speech is already slightly slurred with sleep, a yawn following. He sighs, kissing behind your ear.

"Give me until tomorrow night, I need to discuss a few things. Then we'll go, I promise."

He wishes that this could be a more exciting prospect for him, that in the back of his mind he weren't, for the first time in a long time, genuinely worried about how his brothers might react.

It's got nothing to do with his capability. Without question he will keep you safe, his strength is comparable to the eldest and he'd forge fire if it meant having you whole and in his arms.

But his coven, they're different than what he knows you're expecting. He knows that because of primal, and ancestral rules that they will not lay a hand on you.

If he's honest, it's more so what might come out of their mouths that worries him. He can't have them slip up and say something they're not supposed. It'll kill him if there's even one crease of worry or sadness etched onto your pretty face. He won't allow it.

But if it's important to you, it's important to him. You're here, asleep in his arms, and he's certain that if he had a soul, he would trade it if it meant another lifetime of your existence.

•

Johnny isn't next to you when you wake up, which isn't a particularly uncommon occurrence. It's just that normally he'd let you know beforehand, even shaking you awake sometimes just to mumble a be back soon in your ear, despite the fact that you're half asleep.

You reach over to your bedside table to grab your phone, clicking it on and feeling a bit less tense realizing he's left you a message. You smile.

Sorry I had to leave so early, sweetheart. I'm speaking with my brothers and getting some things taken care of. Don't worry. I love you and I'll see you soon. xx

He must be serious, about the way they behave. It's not that you don't believe him, you'd just rather see the positives, in whatever way you can. It's a little bit startling to think about today, if you're honest. Especially after such an all consuming night, the sun now too bright in your eyes, the scent of Johnny still on your sheets and clothes.

You feel anything but dark and dreary when you think of him. That's not to say he's not quite scary if you don't know him. Broad and towering, gaze low and piercing in a way that'll have you looking away nervously if he were to make eye contact with you.

But you can't imagine him as anything but what he is, beautiful and lively and kind, soft around the cold hard edges.

You stretch as you rise from your bed, joints popping as you pull yourself onto your feet. You wince slightly, realizing between your thighs is still fairly sore, ghosts of his touch lingering on your heated skin.

You and Johnny don't have sex incredibly often, at least not by normal human couple standards. It's pretty obvious why. His ability to control his strength, his desire, his thirst; in that state, as he has explained, it leaves him a little bit frayed.

It's not like you're not satisfied anyways, he's more than generous with his mouth and fingers, and despite the fact that he holds nearly half of his full vigor back when the two of you are intimate, it's still a little bit throttling for you afterwards.

The day is boring without him, quite frankly, but despite whatever you may think about it, you still respect his decision to plan ahead for your visit.

You do get it, it's not that. If anything, you just feel too safe with him. To the point where you sometimes feel invincible in his arms.

It almost makes up for the fact that you don't get to show him off as much as you'd like, as silly as it sounds. His kind can go out in the sun, but it's a bit bothersome after a while from what you've heard. He is almost a cliché in that department, most days either spent with him in doors or at night.

Sometimes, though, you wonder what it would be like if he were human. It wouldn't make a difference, you're sure of that, because he'll always be your Johnny. But the thought does venture into your mind every now and then, because of the way he speaks of his humanhood. As if he's trying not to admit how much he misses it.

You often wonder what he must have looked like when he could blush, with his vibrant smile on show, and dimples high on his soft cheeks.

A small, selfish part of you envies the people who might have gotten to witness him like that. Warm, a little uncoordinated maybe, eyes topaz in the sun. He must have been a sight to behold, throughout his human life.

Deep down, a part of you knows that, that is what this whole thing with his brothers boils down to. You're not just curious, you're madly in love with him. So much so that when he's away, it does feel uncomfortable. You never believed people when they spoke of love that way, you always thought it to be quite gross, actually.

And maybe you're just a silly little human with silly little feelings, to be so smitten after a year. But there's no going back now, he's a part of you, so of course you think about how much of him you've never gotten to see. Of course you want to meet any tangible part of his incomprehensible life, his family. Even if it's not conventional.

It leaves an odd pit in your stomach, thinking of him young and youthful, thinking of his mother and father and the life that they had created so many lifetimes ago.

You think of him at eighteen, maybe still plush in some areas not yet tainted by the work of adulthood. Had he ever been in love, back then? You swallow back the irrational bitterness you suddenly taste.

You think of him at twenty, and what he might have been passionate about. What life was even like for him. You think of his first kiss, and him at twenty four, a year before his life as what he is now, began.

Truthfully, you don't know a lot about him. It's a strange, sudden realization, but it's just never really mattered in all honesty. Because you know him, how he is now, which is all you'll ever get and is more than what you could've ever asked for.

You've always felt like it's different because his existence in itself has been so tremulous, and in a lot of ways very hard to talk about without it getting uncomfortable because of all that he has lost, or subsequently reminding him of what he is.

Never things he'd admit out loud, but definitely something you've picked up on in his expression or the wistfulness in his voice. It doesn't matter, to you; the bad parts. He's yours, and somehow you two have found each other despite so many centuries vouching on never having met one another at all. You wish you could truly express to him how nothing would ever stray you away.

You've showered and eaten an inadequate dinner by the time Johnny shows up, presence barely perceptible until he's wrapping his strong arms around you from behind.

You're used to it by now, not even flinching anymore. You melt instantaneously, placing your hands over his that are resting around your waist.

"Hi." He whispers, lips against the shell of your ear. You shiver and let out a giggle, turning in his grasp to get a kiss. He's on your lips before you even have to lift yourself on your tippy toes.

"Mm, hi." You mumble, hands cupping his jaw. You hum as he pulls you closer, spinning you so that you're pressed against the counter, his hand on the small of your back blocking you from the hard edge.

"We could stay here, you know," he smiles against your mouth, half teasing and half serious. "a change of plan never hurt anybody."

The idea is actually tempting.

"But I just showered." You pout, and his hands are rubbing your sides, eyes contemplative.

"You're right, you shouldn't go over there smelling anymore enticing than you already do, anyways." He says it with a grit of his teeth, as if the mere thought bothers him.

You're too distracted by his face to really absorb what he's saying, smiling up at him, practically beaming. Before he can quirk his brow and boop your nose with the tip of his finger, you kiss him again.

It's chaste, but it's sincere.

"You're so cute when you're all disgruntled." You state, throwing your arms around his neck. He snorts, shaking his head and licking his heart shaped lips lips out of habit.

"I'm not disgruntled, I just want this to go well." He replies, broad shoulders slumping. You unhook your arms from around him to grasp his hands, large and welcoming in yours. He intertwines your fingers.

"It will. Because I'm with you." It's simple, and undeniable. He knows that, and accepts defeat when he sees how truly bright the gleam in your eye is. You're his own little sun.

During the drive to his home, Johnny takes this time to give you some much needed insight on the creatures you’ll be meeting. He gives you their names, some key characteristics so that you won’t be startled by their behavior, but he doesn’t give you their ages. He simply refers to the one named Yuta as the oldest, and Mark as the youngest.

“Youngest and oldest in vampire years or..?” You ask, the corner of his mouth twitching into an amused smile at your interest. You forget to focus for a moment, tracing the planes of his side profile with your eyes.

“Yuta was my age when he was changed, but he is, in our terms, the eldest. Mark is the youngest both in the factors.” His thumb strokes the back of your knuckles where your clasped hands rest on the center console, though it doesn’t soothe all the burning questions that you’ve decided need to stay in your head, for now.

You think of mark first, something about his youth, despite the fact that he is centuries older than you, seeming a little bit less intimidating. Almost abstract, in a way. As he describes the youngest, it’s easy to picture a boyish smile, innocence. Until he throws in the fact that the ones that get changed before the brain is fully developed, tend to be the ones with more of an unsteady grasp on their more potent emotions. You can guess what that means, and he suddenly regrets ever opening his mouth.

Johnny almost debates whether or not he should turn the car around and forget about this occasion all together, growing anxious at your monotone expression and the way you are chewing the skin of your bottom lip, and not realizing you are just lost in deep thought, not perturbed or uncomfortable.

Really, you are just trying to make out what his brothers may be like. Taeyong, Jaehyun, Jungwoo, Doyoung. For some reason, it’s the thought of meeting Yuta that seems the most daunting. Despite the fact that he is Johnny’s age, not technically but anyways - knowing that he has been around for so long has you wondering how a person like that even thinks.

Maybe you should've listened to your boyfriend. No, you're brave. But sometimes you are not very smart.

You are pulled for your reverie of sorts when your surroundings become darker, gloomier in the way that the trees seem to shield the road ahead from the sun, forming a canopy from above and casting misshapen shadows across the ground.

You don’t realize you’re clutching his hand tighter until Johnny turns to look at you with worried eyes, all the stars and every wish that he could ever grant you swirling in his chocolate irises.

“Are you alright? We can turn around and-”

You shake your head in defiance, determined. You aren’t going to back out now, not when you can already see the house from around the bend, pillars high and spiraling, a wide balcony peeking out from behind the trees.

“I’m perfectly fine, promise.” you give him a soft, reassuring smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes but he knows you’ll likely scowl at him if he keeps insisting on your indifference, so he takes the car just a little bit further, rounding a bend and stalling before cutting the engine.

The house is a lot more grand that you’d previously expected, the outside still kempt but not as pristine. Mostly, you thought that it would offensive to coin their home as something dark and menacing, not wanting to contribute to the cliché. But, it does in fact feel as though you are walking into a lair.

It’s beauty is undeniable, though, despite the lack of real warmth that it exudes. Upon entering, wide open space greets you, black marble flooring underneath your boots and a staircase straddling either side of the entryway. Above it is a balcony, hanging over the foyer from the second floor.

“So I was correct, about the furniture.” You murmur, pressed against his hard side with your arms wound around his forearm despite the fact that the house is seemingly empty. You know that it’s not, though. Any living being who walked into this house would be able to feel it, the static that seems to raise the hair on the back of your neck.

“You'll have to forgive our complacency when it comes to interior design,"

The voice seems to appear out of nowhere, melodic and smooth and echoing off of the walls in a way that makes the direction of the sound imperceptible. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see someone making their way down the left staircase, gliding more so than walking.

"So many years leave us comfortable, rather than fashionable."

Two figures float behind him, while three others descend down the opposite staircase. You could've sworn you'd only glanced at Johnny for half a second, before they suddenly materialized.

The man is suddenly right in front of you, and your eyes act as if they have no choice but to meet his, your breath stalling. It reminds you of the first time you saw Johnny, how shocking it was to be faced with such inhuman beauty.

"My name is Taeyong, it's lovely to meet you." The creature flashes a bright smile, something unreadable in his sharp eyes. His quaint lips are mischievous, or maybe you're just paranoid.

You don't have a chance to respond, already surrounded by a group that seem oddly eager to meet you despite what Johnny had warned, their gate an obvious contrast to your boyfriends.

They seem to sway effortlessly rather than stand perfectly still, their proximity closer than that of strangers. The energy around them feels unpredictable, and without thought your hand tightens around Johnny's.

"Wow, she smells good." A voice muses from the group, and you follow it to find a face that you somehow automatically know belongs to Mark. His face is youthful, eyes wide and full of glee and then a bit amused, due to what you can assume is from your boyfriend glaring at him sharply.

"No wonder he's so attached." The boy beside Mark, with dimples as deep as you've ever seen, hums to his friend.

"Please, don't be so crude, children. She is our guest." This voice is authoritative, the timbre low but the tone gentle like the stroke of a feather.

The group seems to make way for him without thought, and again, you're instantly struck with recognition simply by his presence alone.

He approaches you without caution, you blink and he's suddenly right there. His hair is longer than the others, curling around his prominent chin and framing his elegant features.

"It's a real pleasure to meet you, we've heard so much about the little human that's enamored our dear brother." You can't look away from his cunning face, his eyes are almost wild in excitement, plush lips stretching across his face to reveal a million wat smile.

He extends his hand towards you, with a bit more reserve now - and the first thing you notice are the sharp, glossy black nails that are more akin to claws, formed into stilettos at the tips of his delicate, slender fingers.

"Careful." Johnny mutters to his brother through his teeth, the man giggling in amusement as he gently takes your hand in his. You hadn't even realized you'd extended it back, his skin almost colder than Johnny's if possible.

"Tsk, so worried. For what reason? Look, I'm being as gentle as a hummingbird. Her hands are so soft."

Yuta. It's undeniable, he's too confident, bemused by this whole ordeal and even more so by the way his brother has stiffened beside you, pulling you back just a fraction of an inch.

The elder sighs wistfully, allowing your hand to drop from his. He meets your eyes once more, your skin buzzing oddly.

"My name is-"

"Yuta. I-I know, I mean I guessed."

It's the first word you've spoken to any them, and your voice is shakier than you'd like, throat dry. The mans lips twitch into a grin, lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he clasps his hands together in a stunned manner.

"Wow, perceptive you are. So sure, despite appearing so meek."

You can't decipher his tone, worried that maybe you've messed up by interrupting him. He seems a bit perplexed, in a curious way. You're grateful for a new voice introducing themselves, directing your attention elsewhere.

"I'm Jungwoo," His voice is the most welcoming. "your skin is so pretty. Is that weird to say?" He mutters the last part to the slender, inquisitive man beside him, who's features are similar to that of a feline. He seems indifferent.

But, for the first time since you've arrived, you smile, an odd sense of relief flooding through your nervous system. You feel Johnny relax as well, and you glance up at him for just a moment, to see him already looking down at you.

"It's nice to meet you, Jungwoo," The jubilent vampire flashes you a smile. "all of you, really. Thankyou for welcoming me into your home."

"Of course, doll. Should we give her a tour?" Yuta speaks and Johnny responds almost a heartbeat after the elders suggestion.

"I can do that, give her some space." His voice is polite but firm, and Yuta giggles again, while the others back up a bit. Johnny readjusts his grip on your hand and begins moving towards the right staircase, turning his head to send the rest a look you can't see.

He leads you down the left corridor into a massive hallway, the walls a deep shade of plum, floors white marble instead of black like the ones downstairs.

Once you're out of view from the rest, he stills, turning towards you and rubbing his hands up and down your arms.

"I'm sorry about that, really." His eyes are apologetic and you snort, embracing his middle and kissing his chin.

"Sorry for what? I'm fine, they were fine."

He lets out a sigh, broad shoulders slumping as he does so. He believes you enough to not keep on, pressing his lips to your forehead before continuing his non informative tour.

"I wish they'd keep at least some of their thoughts to themselves," you're turning, brought down another lengthy hall with a massive picture window framing the north wall. Heavy burgundy curtains keep the sun from shining through the glass.

To the left is another set of stairs, small in comparison to the ones you've seen so far, framed with elegant railing. "this is my room, up here." He points to the door that sits right at the top of them, lonesome and heavy looking.

Your heartbeat is suddenly loud in your own ears, excitement bubbling in your belly at the prospect of being in a space that belongs to him. He senses this, and smiles to himself as he wraps his fingers around the doorknob and pushes it open.

Everything about his room is inherently Johnny. It's simple, but so very him.

The atmosphere is completely different to what the rest of the house provokes, the floors a deep cherry red, hardwood. A round, red rug sits in the middle of the room, a leather sectional nestled in the corner to the right. Beside it hangs rows of shelves with a multitude of books, more than you'd normally see lounging in some ones room. He's probably read them all three times over by now.

He has a television, which shouldn't make you giggle as it does. It's far bigger than necessary, taking up almost all the space on the eastern wall. There's a door almost adjacent to the one you entered from, which you presume is the bathroom.

"I love it, it's so comfortable in here." You muse, trotting towards the sectional and throwing yourself on the massive sofa. He chuckles, sauntering towards you and lifting your head so that he can place it atop his lap.

He can't lie to himself, it makes him ache in the most pleasant of ways to have you here, in a place that has been his only real peace since he's met you. Well, scratch that. You are his only safe haven.

"Yeah?" He replies, scratching your scalp lightly, studying the softness of your features as you gaze up at him, elated.

"Mhm, it feels like stepping into a different house entirely. Not that I have an issue with the interior design." You playfully mock his brother Taeyong’s earlier words, and laughter bubbles from your boyfriends throat.

"You don't think it's too melancholy? The house, I mean."

You shake your head indifferently, hair ruffling against the material of his jeans that are covering his thick thighs.

"To be honest it is quite....vampire-y, but it's elegant. And big. And knowing you live here makes it not seem so dark."

His hands are suddenly cupping the area just underneath your arms, effortlessly pulling you up so that you're straddling his lap. Your thighs find their place immediately, knees squeezing his torso.

"You're too good. Too pretty to be in a place like this." Despite his tone his eyes are formed into crescent moons from his smile, and you don't fight the urge to kiss him.

"Shush, or I'll battle you to the death." You mumble, his nose nudging your cheek as he tilts his head to move in a steady rythm with your mouth.

"Mm, think I beat you to it." He teases, and you can feel his smile. You're not in the frame of mind to scold him for that one.

Naturally, without even thinking, your body heats up fast from the way he kisses you. Even if he's trying to be chaste, it always ends up with a flame being fed by his tongue. His scent, the sensation of wholeness when you're surrounded by him.

Especially now, in the comfort of and quiet of his room when all you can hear is the smack of your mouths, steady and calculated. You're encapsulated by everything that belongs to the person you love.

A soft push to your shoulders has you humming in confusion, you're still not back on earth when you break apart to see the contrived, reluctant expression that twists his face.

"We can't - not here." He strains, very much so aware of way your hips are planted so firmly against his, the sweet scent of blood that rushes like a current through the area between your thighs.

You pout, and instinctually he's cupping your face between his palms, kissing it away. His fingertips graze the shell of your ear.

"Don't give me that look, you know why I'm saying no. If they thought you smelled good before, you'd be the finest of dining options if you walked down there wet."

Your body pulses with arousal, arousal that he can practically taste on the tip of his tongue. A petulant whine slips from your throat, while your palms graze his hardening length through his jeans, and his cock twitches.

Fuck. He really can't deny you, can he?

557 notes · View notes

bokugaos · 4 years ago

Text

piece by piece.

pairing: kuroo x reader

length: 3.1k

tags — sex work/prostitution, semi-public sex, oral sex, alley blow jobs, rough sex, creampie, violence, abuse/assault, jealousy, possessiveness, angst.

summary: The first time Kuroo fucks you is your first ever. The second time he fucks you is also the last time.

The first time is in a dirty alley behind the bar, Kuroo’s pants around his ankles and you are fumbling awkwardly down to your knees.

He’s drunk and angry, too pissed off at the world to care who’s sucking him off in the dingy shadows beside the garbage bins. It’s not a bad blowjob by far—certainly not the worst he’s ever had—mouth warm and tight as he grips your hair and shoves his thick cock down your throat. You gag a little until your pretty eyes start to water, though you don’t try to pull away; you just let Kuroo fuck your mouth until he comes with a grunt, and swallows every drop before wiping your lips absently with a delicate hand.

Kuroo doesn’t look up as he tucks himself back into his jeans, though he can hear you get off your knees and lean against the wall with a sigh. The orgasm has taken the edge off his simmering rage, but he’s still drunk as fuck and anxious to get home and crawl into his lumpy bed. He digs into his jeans for twenty bucks and hands it to you without a word, and is surprised when you stuff it into your pocket and then grabs his arm before he can walk away.

“Do you…want me to do that for you again some time?” you ask, and look up at him with wide, hopeful eyes like he is the fucking Santa Claus. “I can meet you here? Or at your place?”

The words are on the tip of his tongue as he shrugs your hand off with a sigh; that he’s not picky about who sucks his cock and pretty much any mouth will do. Instead, he looks at your earnest face and the slightly desperate expression you’re trying to hide and finds himself saying the last fucking thing he ever expected.

“Yeah, here. Same time tomorrow.”

—

He doesn’t even learn your name until the fifth time you suck him off, still panting slightly after taking the load down your throat with a pleased smile.

“My name’s y/n,” you say, staring up at him through those lashes like you’re expecting a fucking pat on the head. He has no idea how he’s supposed to respond so he says nothing, shoving the money at you with a grunt before walking away.

He doesn’t need to know your name or what you do when he’s not around. And he does not spend any time wondering where you stay or why you’re out on the streets in the first place.

It’s none of his fucking business.

—

The first time Kuroo fucks you is also your first time ever, though he has no clue he’s dealing with a virgin until the deed is done.

You’re in his bed, and on your hands and knees, face pressed into the mattress and your hands clenched so tightly on the sheets. If he had bothered to, he might have guessed at the lack of experience; would have known from the wild look in your eyes and the nervous gnawing of those plush lips as you strip hastily and crawl onto the bed.

Instead, he’s too distracted by the show of your skin and his own painful erection to do much more than a perfunctory prep before he’s pushing in. you keen, high and wounded and clench down, and it takes every bit of his willpower not to just shove his cock all the way in and start thrusting his hips. As it is, he barely gives you a few moments to get used to being filled, before he starts hammering that pretty hole like his life fucking depends on it.

You groan, back arching against every thrust, sounding pinched and breathless every time he sinks in and bottoms out with a forceful grunt. You feel damn good around his swollen prick, and he finds that he can’t get enough of the way your skin bruises under his rough and calloused fingertips. It drives him wild when you grit your teeth and try so hard not to whine, which only tips Kuroo to haul his hips back and fuck you even harder.

He’s so pent-up that it doesn’t take long before he’s on the edge, and then he’s dragging you up onto your knees and spurting hard, biting down on a bare neck as he comes and comes inside that tight flesh. When he finishes he pulls out slowly, almost gently, though it still makes you cry out like you’re being punched in the gut.

“You okay?” he asks, as you just lay there on the bed, head cradled in your arms as you stare blankly at the far wall. “Did you come?”

“No,” you say, so quietly he can barely hear you. “I didn’t think I would the first time. Maybe once I’m used to it, and it doesn’t hurt.”

Kuroo stiffens, and slowly climbs off the bed. “What the fuck? What do you mean first time?”

You turn to look up at him and shrug, though your eyes are red and a little wet. “Everyone has a first time, right? This was mine.”

He pushes the bills into your hand hesitantly and leaves you on the bed.

He doesn’t see you again for a month.

—

Kuroo finds you there the week after, in the alley behind the same bar, in your usual spot at the usual time. But it’s obvious that you’re not waiting for him tonight, because you’re on your knees again in the shadows, sucking some other man’s dick like you were born for it.

His first impulse is to turn around and leave, to get away from the vivid image of your lips wrapped around someone else’s dick, licking and swallowing like you’re eating a goddamn ice cream. It’s followed by a second impulse to grab the guy and break his fucking nose, the rage welling up fast and violent when you start choking on the cock that’s being unceremoniously rammed down your throat.

Instead Kuroo just stands there and watches, frozen as the man in the cheap grey suit shoots his load inside your mouth with a satisfied grunt. You barely have time to swallow before you’re being hauled onto your feet and kissed within an inch of your life, roughly and messily like the guy is trying to inhale you. Kuroo is practically seeing red with the way he’s manhandling you like so much meat, grabbing and sucking and bruising you like his measly twenty bucks gives him the right to touch every inch of your body.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” the guy yells, when he finally notices Kuroo looming just a few feet away. “You her pimp? Or her next client?”

“I’m not—”

“Don’t mind him, he’s nobody.” You interrupt, and Kuroo can’t disagree, even if the words stick in his craw like so much bile.

The tone of your words manages to surprise Kuroo, if not the invitation; he knows full well that you can’t possibly live off of the measly few dollars you make off of Kuroo alone. No, it’s the way you sound when he makes the offer—all fake happiness and a sultry smile, knowing exactly which strings to pull to get a man’s groin to pay attention.

There’s none of the vulnerability and shy air that you usually carry when you’re dealing with Kuroo, and it makes him feel nauseous, like he doesn’t know which version of you is the real one.

He watches as you follow the cheap suit guy to his small green car parked just a few feet away, ignoring Kuroo as you climb into the passenger seat. He continues to watch as the man grabs you by the back of your neck and crushes his lips to yours, like he wants to take you right there, spread your legs wide and fuck you on the fake leather seats. He watches until the car tears out of its spot and disappears down the road, leaving him standing in the alley alone, his mind filled with images of you on your knees.

Kuroo doesn’t sleep at all that night.

—

Four days later you show up at his apartment unannounced, sporting a split lip and red marks over your arms, and finger shaped bruises around his neck.

Kuroo lets you in without a word.

You flop tiredly onto the couch, pulling your legs to your chest with a sigh as he heads into the kitchen to fix you some food. When he returns, you take the plate and cup of coffee with a grateful nod and a quirk of your cracked and not quite bleeding lips.

“Really? Coffee? Do I look like I need coffee?”

Kuroo snorts. “Just do me a favor and tell me who that guy is.”

“It’s fine, I don’t really know him anyway,” you shrug, and start to wolf down the meal like it’s the first food you’ve had in days. Which is both a relief and a sting to his heart, because you don’t know that much about him as well, and neither does he.

So he doesn’t ask for any further details, and you don’t offer, though he does ask you to stay the night and sleep on the couch. He tries not to think too much about the relief that flashes briefly across your face, or what he wants to do to the guy who put his hands on you and made you look this way.

You are not on the couch when Kuroo gets up the next morning, and he tells himself that it’s just as well.

—

“Are you in some kind of trouble?”

He doesn’t know why he asks the question; has received no indication from you that any inquiry into your affairs is either wanted or appreciated. But since you showed up at his place last week ago, bruised and obviously in distress, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about what happened, and when—not if—it might happen again.

You arch an eyebrow at him and frown. “Why do you think I’m in trouble?”

Kuroo shrugs. “You’re not at your usual spot anymore, behind that bar. I thought…maybe you’re avoiding the guy that hit you.”

The smile that blooms across your face is wholly unexpected, those eyes bright with amusement and something that looks a little too much like softness.

“Yes, but it’s fine. I moved to a different spot and I don’t think he’s going to come looking for me anyway. Not after what I did to him.”

You are grinning now, practically begging Kuroo with the barely contained glee on your face to ask for details. “Alright, I’ll bite. What’d you do?”

You shrug, swallowing a mouthful of your food before you answer, “I waited until he fell asleep and took nude photos of him in his bed. Then I texted them to as many people as I could find on his contacts.”

“You did what—?” he starts, and then, “I’m quite pleasantly surprised. He’s such a good guy.”

“Right?” You say with a laugh, and then your expression changes, smoothing out into a mask of carefreeness that he doesn’t quite buy. “I left after that. But not before cleaning his wallet.”

—

“You can stay here, if you want,” Kuroo says to you the next morning, his arms around your waist as you lay together in his bed. “Just…I don’t know where you live but if you need a place to go you can crash here.”

You turn in his arms until you’re facing him, your face graced with a shy smile and asks, “Can I suck your cock in exchange for rent?”

“No! It’s not…I don’t mean you have to give me any…fuck,” Kuroo swears, as you tilt your head to the side in realization. “You don’t have to do anything for me.”

“Yeah,” You agree, “same goes for you.”

—

It takes Kuroo almost an entire week before he realizes that you have taken him up on his offer to stay, your comings and goings unpredictable and your actions often completely unexpected. There are days when you don’t leave the apartment at all; where you spend hours cleaning the living room and wiping furniture, or doing all his laundry. Other times you will disappear for an entire day and night, and return stinking of alcohol and covered in other people’s seed and sweat. Those nights, he watches as you limp into the bathroom and quietly locks the door, and spends hours in the shower, long after the water turns icy cold.

He never asks, but he never says no either, when you climb on him on the couch and unbuckles his pants with quick and steady hands. It’s not just lust that makes it so good when you lick him sloppily from root to tip; it’s also the shame bubbling just under his skin, watching you swallow him down with those perfect cock sucking lips. Kuroo can’t stop staring at your swollen mouth sliding up and down his cock; can’t stop bucking his hips and fucking your throat, relishing the noises you make when he shoots his entire load in your sinful mouth with a groan.

You always lick your lips after you suck his cock, like it’s the best damn thing you’ve ever tasted.

And you only smile afterwards when you do it for him.

—

One day, you come home in the middle of the afternoon on a Saturday, carrying shopping bags that you dump unceremoniously onto the floor. You’re wearing a brand new outfit that looks more expensive than what he makes in a week, gleaming bracelets adorning your wrists and a diamond necklace sparkling on your neck. Gone are your loose worn t-shirts and baggy, low-rise jeans; you look like a model in one of those designer catalogues, or the A-list celebrities going to get coffee in sunny L.A.

Kuroo hates it.

He hates it, because of how right you look in your expensive new outfit; like these are the clothes you’re meant to be wearing.

Like you belong in them all the time, and in a world far, far away from him.

He makes you take all your fancy jewelries off, and then fucks you roughly with two fingers until you come all over his couch.

—

You still show up at the apartment smelling like sex, with bite marks on your collarbone and your lips swollen from kisses.

But you also come home with bags and bags of groceries too, and make sure to stock the fridge full of his favorite beer.

He tells himself that he appreciates your thoughtfulness, and isn’t at all jealous of whoever the hell it is that’s giving you what he needs.

Giving you everything you deserve and could never get from a guy like him.

—

The second time he fucks you is also the last time.

You ask him to go out for dinner one night, to a place with neatly folded cloth napkins and dimly lit candles on the table, and you order the most expensive dish on the menu. You spend the evening devouring a mountain of food and making fun of the pretentious staff, and Kuroo pretends he’s perfectly fine with the fact that some rich asshole he doesn’t know is paying for this good time.

But he bites back the festering resentment and gives you a genuine smile, because he’s never seen you so damned happy and relaxed, laughing and smiling as you make your way back to Kuroo’s apartment. He lets you lead him into the bedroom and shut the door behind them, and grins into the toe curling kiss that follows as you move to the bed.

This time, when he’s got you naked on your hands and knees, he takes care to be gentle and thorough, spreading your legs wide and working you open. He slips his tongue and licks your wetness all over, and tastes every bit of that pretty cunt while you clutch the sheets and writhe and moan.

“Tetsurou,” you pant, as he slides in slowly, inch by excruciating inch. “F-feels so good! Oh, please, please fuck me, god I want to feel you, please..!”

“I’m gonna fuck you so good,” he says, groaning as you arch your back and clench around him. “Gonna make you scream my name.”

And he does, relishing every sound he can wring out of you as he sinks to the root, and every breathless sigh as he starts rocking his hips. Every stroke makes him want to push harder and thrust deeper, as he watches his cock disappear over and over inside that pretty pink hole.

He fucks you for what feels like hours that night, stopping whenever he gets too close to wring every ounce of pleasure possible from your sweat soaked bodies. He fucks you on your knees and then flips you over onto your back, and drives himself inside you like he wants to own him; be the one to break you apart and put you back together again.

“Is it good like this? When he fucks you?” Kuroo snarls, throwing your legs over his shoulders and sinking even deeper. “Do you tell them that you want them so bad? Beg them to ruin you too?”

You don’t answer, spurting all over yourself as he keeps drilling you into the bed. He follows a few rough strokes later with a groan, fingers biting deep into soft flesh, every part of him howling with possessive fury as he paints your tight walls with his come.

“No,” you whisper, much later, with Kuroo’s arms wrapped around you and his nose pressed against your neck. “It’s not like this at all.”

—

The space beside him is empty by the time he wakes the next morning, and there’s a neatly folded note on the nightstand.

He ignores it until he can’t anymore, and then crumples it in his fist and tosses it into the garbage can.

He’s always known that this is how it would end.

Still, he wishes he knew more than just your first name, or how your smile—the real one, soft and genuine—was the best thing he’d ever fucking seen.

He doesn’t see you again for a long time; days and months and years until there’s nothing left but a memory of you and a dull, aching hole in his chest.

#kuroo smut #kuroo x reader smut #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader smut #tw sex work #tw prostitution #kuroo angst #.kuroo!#.fics!

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lord-explosion-baku · 4 years ago

Text

Tempting Tempest (Shark!Bakugou)

Shark!Bakugou x mer!reader

warnings: yellow sour fruit, dubcon, blood, violence, strange as fuck words I’d only use while writing monster smut idfk, silly ending

A/N: I know I said I wasn’t gonna force this one out, but sometimes you gotta. This was kinda fun to write, but idk how sexy it is to be QUITE honest. The next time I write mermaid p*rn outside of tempting tempest, it’s definitely gotta be with at least one human, ama. also the ending is a little wacky, pero it made me smile so like maybe it’ll make you smile too. ha...? okiee here’s the thing...vhjdsvhjd

Violent fury compelled you to tighten your hold on your weapon. Like a spear, you flew through the water, firing towards the shark. Too bad for you, he had fast reflexes and as soon as you were close enough, he whipped his tail around and slapped you in the face.

Colliding with the sand bed and a large kelp-covered rock, you struggled to right yourself, when the merman gripped onto your waist. He pulled himself up so his head was leveled with yours. He bared his teeth at you and snapped at your neck. You hissed and swiped your knife at him, missing his chest and cutting into his side. He growled when blue blood spilled out into the water, swirling around the two of you as you wrestled for dominance.

The merman slammed your wrist into the edge of the rock next to you, forcing you to relinquish your dagger. Sharp fingers curled around your neck, quickly stopping your waterways. You dug your nails into his toned arms so fiercely that even more blood flooded around you. Despite the obvious pain you inflicted on him, the merman gave you a sharp, threatening sneer.

“Looks like you do have more fight in you after all.” He teased, tightening his hold. He licked his lips and brought his free hand to your mouth. “Should say I’m grateful that you’re not gonna make this boring.”

Figuring that it was no use clawing at your opponent, you threw your hands down on the sand bed, searching for your lost weapon. Thinking that you were going to throw sand in his face again, the shark let go of your neck and grabbed your wrist, quickly pinning it to your side.

“Not gonna let that happen again, little guppy,” he grumbled. The hand at your mouth squeezed your cheeks together as his hungry, crimson glower bore down on you. “You’re gonna have to learn some new tricks fast.”

You bit down on his narrowed webspace between his pointer finger and thumb, making him jolt back. That offered you enough slack to quickly wiggle out from underneath him, but not enough time to swim away.

Rounding you, the shark took hold of the flimsy part of your tail, sending an excited shock up to your neck. You whined and flipped your tail at him, attempting to hit his face, but he only laughed as he dodged the attack.

“That was cute.” He mocked as he approached you again, ushering you against the giant rock. “That little cry, I mean...think you can do it again for me? Huh, guppy?”

You hissed at him, the fins on the side of your head flaring in an attempt to make you look more threatening. He pushed you back against the wall, your skin grating against the rugged edge of the flat. You winced while he growled, deep and low, baring his sharp, ivory teeth. You couldn’t help but flinch, your fins falling back with a huff. At this, he chuckled, closing the gap between the two of you, his shark’s tail triumphantly swishing from left to right.

“Not so tough now, are yah?” Your body trembled as he grazed his lips against your neck, slowly bringing them up to your ear. “All bark and no bite.”

The purring came back—that deep, mesmerizing rumble from his chest. You hated how easily it got to you—how it made your muscles relax and your mind fuzzy. You scowled at his chest, too afraid that if you looked him in those beautiful, ruby eyes, you’d be lost to him again

The shark put both of his arms against the rock, caging you in with him as your prison bars. “Whatsamatter?” He asked. “You some kinda mute or are you just being a bitch?”

“Oh, bite me!”

“Is that a command or a request?” He gave you his insolent shark-grin as he leaned closer. “‘Cause I will,” he said in a teasing tone, but you knew it was a promise. The heat of his tongue reached the sensitive part of your ear, licking it for just as long as it took for goosebumps to erupt across your arms. He purred, “even if you don’t ask nicely.”

“I’m not asking you for anything except for you to leave me alone!” You barked out, albeit weakly. His chest rumbles were echoing inside your head, lulling you into a trancelike state you didn’t want to fall into.

“Since when?” He inquired impudently. His hands fell down near your hips.

You gestured pointedly behind him, indicating the updraft of sand and blood whirling in the space the two of you previously occupied. He glanced back only for a moment, not willing to take his eyes off of you for a second too long. He smirked, finally closing his hands on the part of your body where your torso met your fluke. They were rough, calloused from experience—hunter’s hands. You fought off impending thoughts of having those hands graze every inch of your body.

“Thought that was just foreplay.” His whisper was husky with provocation as his thumbs circled your hip bones. He took the hand you were using to point at the aftermath of your fight with into his. “It’d be no fun without any chase.” He lightly bit down on the carpal side of your palm, his dangerous eyes daring you to react. You merely shuddered against him, an act he seemed to enjoy.

“Foreplay?!” You squawked, bemused. You tore your hand away from his lips and quickly dug your fingers into his side, right below the place you’d cut him. It was healing fast, but some sapphire oozed out, nonetheless. “I cut you!”

He laughed, making his abdomen tighten underneath your touch. You inhaled sharply, and pressed your palm into him, enjoying the feel of his tight stomach. Gods damn you, he was hot.

“What’s one more scar?” He took your hand and moved it up his chest, satisfied to know you liked the feel of him. His skin riveted underneath your fingertips as he drew you over his various markings from previous fights. “I’m sure there’ll be plenty more where that came from—at least, if you’re the kinda mate I think you’ll be.”

“I don’t even know you,” you said, though that was a weak riposte. It wasn’t like you were around long enough for any merman to bring you pearl bracelets and hidden treasures just to have you fall into their embrace. Though, if you had, you wouldn’t be dealing with a shark right now.

“Katsuki,” he said smugly. “Figure you should know the name you’re gonna be moaning for the rest of your life.”

“As if.”

“And you are?” Katsuki completely ignored your retort. “Honestly didn’t think that ‘Guppy’ was all that fitting for a cute, little mermaid like you, but if that’s what you prefer-“

You scowled, ignoring the way your heart stuttered when he called you cute. His lips tilted sideways.

“Nah, you’re too high and mighty for guppy, aren’t you?” He continued, wedging himself closer to you. You felt cool gusts of water blowing against your shoulder and down your back as he drew nearer, his low purring reverberating down your tail. His lips were against your neck as he suggested, “right, princess?” You shuddered against him again as he kissed the sensitive spot on the skin below your gills. “Oh you like that, huh-“ his voice dropped an octave-“princess.”

Despite yourself, you groaned, turning your head so he could angle himself better, suckling on your tender flesh. You slanted your hips into him, hands moving up his strong, muscular back, to his neck, weaving through the surprisingly soft, ash-blonde hair. You tugged, and his growls mixed in with the rumbling only grew louder as he continued to kiss you.

Something thick and heavy pressed against your belly and through foggy eyes, you saw two massive erections, each with jelly-like fluid seeping out from the tips. Your mouth fell open on a moan as you imagined either of the two—if not both—entering you, all previous resignation sinking into the sand beneath you.

Your free hand trickled down his abdomen, loving the way he twitched at your soft caresses. You touched the tip of one of his dicks, and he grunted, a bit of white spurting into your palm. Enjoying his reaction, you rubbed your hand up and down his shaft, squeezing his base as he wrapped an arm around your back.

“Fuck.” He rasped, rutting into your hand. “Touch my cock like that and I’m not gonna be able to control myself.”

“You’re controlling yourself?” You mocked uneasily, tail slapping against the rock.

His nostrils flared. “More than you know.” The hand behind you moved down to your backside. He drew circular motions in the thickest part of your tail behind you, squeezing your flesh, making your fluke shake with anticipation.

“Tell me to fuckin’ stop,” he murmured noncommittally, pressing his cocks harder against your tail. With both hands now on your tail, he moved one over to the puffed out slit below the middle of your hips. He dipped a finger into you, testing out the undoubtedly viscous truth of your velvety walls. He moaned, loving the feel of you, loving the way you whimpered as he touched you. You watched as his pupils grew large, dark, and predatory, as he added a second finger to curl in and out of you. “Tell me you don’t want me to wreck your sweet little pussy right fuckin’ now, or I’m not gonna stop. Once I’m inside you, baby, there’ll be no turnin’ back—even if you beg me.” Something low and animalistic echoed out of his throat at the thought. “Though hearing you fuckin’ beg doesn’t sound half bad right now.”

“Katsuki-!” You started to mewl, but were cut off by his lips descended onto yours. It was a desperate kiss with strong, erratic tongue. He tasted you like you were meant for him—frantic, like he couldn’t get enough of you. Not knowing much about what to do with yourself, you squirmed against him, but he hardly seemed to care. If anything, your resistance only spurred him on.

Grasping onto your wrists, he pinned them against the rock behind you, using one hand to lock them into place. His now unoccupied hand cupped your face as he deepened the kiss. He traced his touch down to your neck, your collarbone, and found ménage at your breasts. He tweaked your pert nipples until they were hard and dark from arousal.

You felt him smirk against you when you finally touched your tongue to kiss—the first of the many triumphs he was going to hold over you. He swallowed your downing moans with fervor, biting down on your lower lip when you attempted to resist again. You cooed.

“Goddamn, you’re fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?” Katsuki’s hands slid down your torso, lingering around your navel when you let out a little squeak. He chuckled. “So ready to be mated, too. You liked being chased around, didn’t you?”

“I-“ you breathed, your heart racing with both excitement and dread-“I don’t know!”

“So coy all of a sudden.” He snickered, grasping onto one of his clasper-pricks. He gave it a couple pumps, letting tendrils of the thick, white seed flutter around in the water. He pushed his member against your slit, letting your own slick membrane cover his thick cockhead, readying him to take you. “That’s okay,” he muttered, “looks like your cunt already knows for you.” He exhaled. “Say my name again—like you did the first time.”

“Kat...suki…?”

“Good girl,” he purred, pressing his cockhead into you, biting back a groan as he did so. Gods, it was unbearably huge. You shot him a panicked look, but that only made him all the more hungry.

“Wait-!” You wiggled, unprepared for the stretching you felt as he pushed into your tight hole. You cried out as he thickened, even while constricted by your walls, not even at his hilt yet. “Wait, please, I can’t—!”

“What’d I tell you, princess?” His voice grated against your soft cheeks, warmed from fluster. “Said there’d be no turnin’ back, didn’t I?” Even still, he pulled back, easing into you slower the second time, pressing in, inch by withering inch.

“God damn, you feel so good wrapped around my cock, hon,” he grumbled thickly, mesmerized. He pulled back once more, and when he pushed in again, he grooved his hips up, pushing even more of his girth deeper inside of you.

“Fuck!” You cried out, attempting to twist away from him. “It’s too much!! I can’t take it!”

“Relax,” he crooned gruffly, petting the erect bud above your slit. His touch sent waves of unfamiliar pleasure rippling through your body despite the terrible corruption battling inside you. You tightened around him and he groaned.

“My gods, baby. The hell are you doin’ to my cock?” Katsuki nestled into your neck, licking at your gills. “Such a good girl—so fuckin’ tight for me, huh? You’re gonna take me so well, I know it.”

Your body wavered—almost complying. Katsuki began rolling into you at a charitable pace, caressing your body, thumb encircling your clit, stimulating you just enough to keep your mind away from the pain. However, when he lessened his hold on your wrists, one of your hands broke free. You pushed against him, writhing and feral.

That was when he bit you.

Scorching affliction shot through your shoulders, down your spine. Your tail spasmed against his, your soft scales scraping against his fine exterior. You wailed and dug your nails into the thick muscles of his back, but that did nothing to tear Katsuki away from you. His grip on you was vice, impervious to any sort of protest. In fact, the more you tried to get away, the closer he pulled you, rutting into you faster, your bodies spinning through the ocean as he locked you into matehood.

Just as you thought you couldn’t take any more of the tremendous cutting feeling his shark’s teeth had your neck, the burn mitigated. He wasn’t holding back—if anything he was digging deeper into you—but as his mark melded into your skin, your body relaxed and you began to enjoy the pain. The feeling was purely hypnotic.

Katsuki began to push more of himself inside of you, and you easily accepted him. Your tail twisted around his as his hips slapped against yours. You arched your back, feeling your walls fluttering around, and you sighed his name on a moan. His arms curled around your waist, squeezing your sides, loving the feeling of your bodies, hot and needy, pressed together.

“Mmmmfuck.” Katsuki pulled away just in time to see your crimson sanguine swaying out and away from his toothy grin. His pupils were so dark and wide that you could hardly see any of the red left in his iris. He was loving this.

“That’s it, baby.” He praised you, licking your cheek. He reached around his back to move your arms so they were around your neck. He groaned when he buried his girth to his hilt, making sure that you and him were as close possibly. “You’re all mine now, aren't cha? Mine-“He speared himself into you with each clipped word. “All. Fuckin’. Mine.”

“Fuck...yes, Katsuki,” you moaned, feeling a tight, aching coil inside of you as his large palms roved over your body. He squeezed your curves, kissed your chest, all the while sweltering inside of you.

“I knew I fuckin’ wanted you the moment I saw you hidin’ away from all those loser fishdicks bringing those mersluts trash just to get some tail,” he panted. “Thought you were sneaky, huh? Thought you wouldn’t be noticed?”

Katsuki pulled your hair, forcing you to face him head on. “Nah, couldn’t let a cutie like you slip away. Couldn’t let any other bottom feeder try to take you, neither. Fuck, you’re gonna be my perfect mate.”

Your inner walls quaked as he ran circles around your clit. “W-what is…?” You began to ask on a hard thrust that hit you perfectly. Your coil bursted and you convulsed around him, squealing as he rutted into you harder and faster. You clenched, again and again, as you pooled over and out with each of his world-ending thrusts, ecstasy completely enveloping your entire being.

“Oh, that feels fuckin’ great, princess,” he growled into your hair. “Good girl, cummin’ for me so soon like that. Fuck,” he rasped, “bite my neck before I fill you up, baby.” He leaned back a drew a finger ong his gills, indicating exactly where he wanted you. “Be my girl.”

You leaned up to drive your tongue up his neck. He shuddered at the contact, still fucking you relentlessly, dragging against your thickened walls. You bit down, hard enough to draw blood, to leave your mark, while you wove your fingers through his soft locks.

“I’m gonna fill you up with my cum. Is that what you want, princess? You wanna feel all of me?”

“Yes, gods yes!” You cried, bucking into him, needing more.

“Say my fuckin’ name, angelface. I wanna hear that sweet voice of yours.” He grunted, biting harshly into your shoulder, tail swishing, hips stuttering.

“Katsuki, please, give me your cum. I wanna feel you baby. Please! Please!

Katsuki came with a roar, lining your walls with his thick, hot cream. He buried his cock inside of you, emptying himself completely, still managing a few more languid thrusts as he planted sloppy kisses to your lips. He groaned into your mouth, loving the taste of your more than compliant tongue.

“Gods, that was-,” he exhaled, lifting himself off of you. He took your hand and guided you up with him, pushing your head into his chest. “-that was god damn hot. You’re gonna be a lot of fun, huh?”

You watched as he shook his two dicks, mesmerized by the residual pink and white swirl of the both of yours’ wash, before his members folded back into his pouch. You parted your lips on a question that didn’t come.

Katsuki snickered. “What?”

“Were they both-“ you festered down below his stomach-“inside of me?”

“Tch! If I had both of my cocks buried in you, I promise you’d know it.” He rolled his eyes before kissing your forehead, suddenly all too familiar with you. “Why? That wasn’t enough for you? I can go again if you aren’t already full to the brim.”

“Oh no!” You glanced down, unsure. “I mean...I don’t know, I was just curious…”

Katsuki chuckled, tilting your chin up to bring you into a kiss. “You wouldn’t be able to handle it, princess.”

“You don’t know that,” you barked back, suddenly all too familiar with him. “I can handle fucking anything you throw at me!”

“Filthyy language, baby. You kiss octopi with that mouth?”

“Are you kidding me?!” You choked. “Hypocrite!”

“Man, you really are gonna be a lot of fun, aren’tcha? So easy to tease.”

“I was just curious!” You threw your hands up into the water and spun around, casting out a sardonic, “you’re incredible.”

Katsuki wrapped his arms around your torso, bringing you back against his chest. “I know.” He kissed the back of your sore neck. “If you really think you can handle it, I sure as hell don’t mind findin’ out.” He brought both of his hands down to your stomach. “After we get you something to eat. You weren’t gonna catch that marlin all by yourself, anyway.”

“I was before you interrupted me,” you bit out, leaning into his touch.

“You think so?” You felt him grin against your skin. “Alright then, let’s find you a marlin and make a deal: if you can take it down all by yourself, I’ll fuck you so good, you won’t be able to swim straight—with both of my cocks.”

“The hell kinda deal is that-?!”

“And if you need my help-“ he continued-“you’re gonna hafta suck them both off.”

You snorted. “In which of these scenarios do I profit?”

“The one where you get a nice meal, a hot mate, and a nice kelp bed to lay in.” He shrugged.

“Kelp bed?” You turned your head at him, looking hopeful.

“You have such nice lips, I can’t wait to know how they feel wrapped around my cock.”

“Kelp bed?” You reiterated, shrugging him off, trying to figure out which direction that marlin swam off to. “Which scenario has a kelp bed in it?”

“Both of them, idiot. I’m not gonna let any mate of mine sleepin’ on some fuckin’ coral or whatever the hell you’ve been doin’ while tryna hide. Do we have a deal or not?”

“Dunno-“ you swam out farther, trying to be nonchalant about your new pursuit-“do you have said bed?”

“You’re really not sneaky,” he snarked, already swimming after you.

“Maybe not,” you laughed as soon as your eyes narrowed in on a giant fish, “but I am fast.”

(Try again...?)

No more tag list, sorry.

#bnha x reader #bnha reader insert #reader insert #bnha imagine #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #mermaid!bakugou #mermay #tw dubcon #tw blood #bnha au #lemon #tempting tempest #merman x reader

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lemon-boy-stan · 4 years ago

Text

bruises, boys, chasers and detention - fred weasley x reader requested by @yourlocalauthor, anon, and anon. i basically merged all your requests into one. sorry it took so long. for the anon who requested x ravenclaw reader, i’m sorry i couldn’t do that. instead, i’ll probably make a hc. hope that’s ok. warnings: lee jordan. sexual references.

You'd been looking forward to the first Quidditch match of the year all the holidays. And now you were positive that the match was the worst event of your day that had happened. Fred got a week's worth of detention, you were in the hospital wing and Adrian Pucey had a broken nose.

The rest of the day was actually pretty good. The bad stuff started halfway through the Quidditch match. The weather was terrible and you could barely see or keep your hands on your Bluebottle.

You only just managed to catch a glimpse of your boyfriend - a whir of bright vermillion, maroon, brown and yellow. He waved at you and you waved back.

"L/N!" Snapped Oliver, "get your head in the game!" You nodded grimly and tried your best to concentrate.

"Oi, Y/N! On your left!" Shrieked Angelina, swooping to your right. Slytherin chasers Blaise Zabini and Adrian Pucey zoomed over.

The two of them grinned at each other before steering their Nimbus 2001s, hooking their brooms and going on your left and right side.

"Zabini and Pucey have cornered our beautiful Seeker of Gryffindor house, I've got a sinking feeling in my stomach here and a determined force in me - I think it's humor - that's telling me the two gits won't have a happy ending if Y/N’s boyfriend of - is it six years? - Fred Weasley is going to do anything about, I daresay the two pigs will find a lot of nasty surprises, sponsored by the Beaters in red -" began a gleeful Lee Jordan, sniggering loudly into the microphone.

You could only just hear Professor Mcgonnagall barking at him to shut up. You would've laughed at Lee’s words to yourself but you had other things to worry about. Blaise and Adrian had cornered you.

You gritted your teeth and tried your best to spot out the Snitch in the dreadful weather - you certainly weren't going to let a couple of dickheads ruin your chance of winning.

When it came to cheating, however, Slytherin house certainly didn't give up. There was an upset roar from the crowd and an assortment of hooting and cheering which came from the Slytherin stands.

There was a bang and a grunt and your shoulder made contact with the fabric of the curtains.

Your stomach churned from the motion but you were determined to stay focused - you'd only just seen the Snitch and now you tightened your grip on the handle.

"She's seen it, lads and lasses! She dives! She escapes the violent clutches of Pucey and Zabini, only just making it out by the luscious strand of hair over -"

"JORDAN!" Bellowed Professor McGonnagall. Lee snickered loudly into the microphone as you puffed before diving again.

"Right, sorry for the biased narration, Professor," the snicker Lee gave off wasn't very apologetic and it distracted you long enough for Adrian and Blaise to get back on your tail again. “Can’t really help it when we all hate Slytherin house any - alright, alright!”

Something, a bone, most likely, in your arm cracked as you smashed into the wall, taking all of Pucey's weight. There was hooting from Slytherin and an outraged roar from Gryffindor. Oliver was almost as outraged as Fred was; the Snitch had now disappeared.

You took another hit and then another and there was a loud thud; you realised that you were the one making the thud, soaring into the dirt below.

There was more excited screaming and snickering from the wave of silver and green and an even louder outraged roar from Gryffindor as you tumbled.

"Exhibition B shows us the obvious cheating ways of Slytherin House and what an incredible (and furious) boyfriend Fred Weasley is, oh, look at him dive, look at him dive!” grinned Lee. "Angelina gets the Quaffle, but is there really any point when all eyes are on our gorgeous Seeker? Something doesn't seem quite right with Y/N! And look at this, everyone, Weasley's face is as red as his mother's hair!" Lee cackled into the microphone.

"JORDAN!" Professor McGonagall bellowed the words as the Gryffindor team flew down to your side. You groaned loudly, clutching your arm, gritting your teeth. “What’re you all doing?!” you exploded, “they’re going to win!” none of the Gryffindor team, not even Oliver, seemed the least bit frustrated about winning. George pointed and zoomed down to join you all. “Fred’s still playing, absolutely clueless. If he looked at what was going on more than he looked at her boobs, he’d be outrag -”

“JORDAN! TEN POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR!”

“Weasley dives down to join the huddle of red and gold, you can’t even see any of his freckles, they’re all camouflaged with the hideous anger, if you have Omnioculars, zoom in, look at how pissed he is - going to be, even more so when he finds out his girlfriend won’t be able to - alright, Professor, alright…” Lee huffed before silencing. The outrage from the Gryffindor stands endured a battle between the cheers and hoots from Slytherin house as Stacey Linkman caught the Snitch. “Slytherin cheats their way to victory in this one…” grumbled Lee, “Slytherin wins.”

“Get out of the way,” you could hear and see Fred shoving Angelina and Katie to the side. Soon he was by yours, George pushed the rest of the team out.

“Think I broke…” you mumbled. “Arm,” you held your right up before cursing loudly, “ow!”

“I told you not to play!” Fred grumbled loudly. “I said ‘sit this one out, we’re going against Slytherin - your arm is already fractured!’ and you said, ‘no, Freddie, I want to play, it’s no fun watching you all!’ and I said, ‘well, fine, then, five Galleons if you break something,’ and you owe me five Galleons!”

You tried to cross your arms before realising you couldn’t, giving him a vicious death glare instead. “I’m going to kill those two cheats if it’s the last thing I can do…” he hissed, fire kindling dangerously in his eyes.

“No idea what he’s saying,” said Lee, still going on with the commentary. “Slytherin house looks like a bunch of smug cheats… and, look! Weasely’s playing doctor! Professor, let me have my fun!”

“Ouch…” you let out a small whimper, Fred’s eyes glowered dangerously as the Slytherin team walked over, smug smiles on each member’s face.

“Good game, L/N,” smirked Pucey, holding out his hand. “Let’s shake on it, eh? Oh, wait,” the rest of the team laughed loudly, cackling. “Must be upsetting, isn’t it, Freckle Fred, when your girlfriend’s the only toy you’ve got, you’re going to have to return her, you won’t even get fifty percent -”

“Fred, stop,” you muttered. “Leave it alone,” Fred took no notice of your words. “Fred, it’s not worth it,”

“Pucey has obviously said something offensive, Weasley’s face is even more red now, Weasley charges Pucey, Weasley Number Two doesn’t even bother to hold his brother back, this is getting interesting!”

“Got something to say, you -”

“Listen here, you little dingbat,” you were positive that you’d never seen Fred this angry since your second grade. “If you think for one second that Y/N is a toy -” he spat the words with disgust, nails digging into his palms. “You can go home to your little Death-Eater -” his snarl was furious, terrifying.

“Fred,” you muttered, “Fred, stop.”

“Come on, Fred, it’s not worth it, mate,” began George. You forced yourself to get up, knowing that Fred would never listen to anyone else.

“Fred, let’s go,” you muttered again, “come on.” He ignored you.

Pucey smirked in satisfaction, crossing his arms with a snicker.

“Well,” Pucey wore an even bigger smirk than he had before, “at least my parents spend their time with time-worthy people rather than yours with Mudbloods,”

Angelina and Katie let out angered gasps. You wished that you could shrink to the size of an ant - so small that not even derogatory terms would be able to hurt and embarrass you.

Because even George was angry now. Not as angry as Fred was, but still angry.

“Pucey calls Y/N a Mudblood, Merlin, he must be wishing for a good kick in the dick!” cackled Lee Jordan, a hint of disgust in his voice that only his close friends would be able to sift out. “Broken arm or two…”

“SHUT UP!” roared both Fred and Professor McGonagall.

“Aren’t you thick?” growled Fred, “haven’t your foul parents taught you to read a room?”

“They have,” snapped Pucey back, “and I do, only when I want to.”

“You over entitled piece of -” began George loudly.

“Who are his parents, anyway?” Whispered Katie. Oliver shrugged, watching silently.

Fred’s lip curled.

“One’s in Azkaban,” he stood his ground, and the other’s friends with the Malfoys. Bill told us last year,” hissed Fred.

“At least my parents taught me the worth of Muggles and their kids. Which is -” Adrian turned to you, “a big, fat, zero.”

Fred charged him.

“Don’t - you - dare - insult - her - or her - family - in front of - me - STUPEFY!”

“Fred!”

“Weasley casts Stupefy on Pucey, serves him right!”

Fortunately, Fred didn’t get all of him. He did get his nose, though, and because Stupefy didn’t really work on body parts, there was a loud crack. You and the girls gasped, covering your mouths in horror.

George shook his head in dismay.

Professor McGonagall, Snape, Madame Hooch and Promfrey came running down.

“Fifty points from Gryffindor! Detention, Mr. Weasley! A week’s worth -”

“Now, now, Professor Snape,” Professor McGonagall came to Gryffindor (and Fred’s)’s rescue, tutting loudly. “Although duelling is against school rules, Mr. Weasley had a very good reason for it - Mr. Pucey did break Miss L/N’s arm (with aid from Mr. Zabini, who will be put on a week’s worth of Quidditch ban, Mr. Pucey will also be spending that week’s ban in the Hospital Wing, and Madame Pomfrey will put him in her utmost care (although not too comfortable)), and I will be deducting fifty points from Slytherin for the use of derogatory language and violence and I will ask Madame Hooch what she would like to do.”

Snape seethed through his nose.

“Yes, Minerva, a week’s worth of Quidditch ban will be perfect for Mr. Zabini. Miss L/N may have to take a few day’s break and because Slytherin cheated their way to victory, Gryffindor win.” Madame Hooch waved her wand and you assumed that the numbers on the scoreboard had changed.

“Lemons really do make lemonade! Broken arms award ten winning points! L/N, break a literal leg next week, please!”

Gryffindor house roared with laughter.

“Alright, Miss L/N, Mr. Pucey, come with me...”

I suck at endings lmaoooooo. I AM SO SORRY I TOOK LIKE TEN YEARS TO WRITE THIS OMG THE OTHERS ARE COMING I PROMISE GUYS

MASTERLIST

#fred weasley #fred weasley smut #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley angst #fred weasley x reader #fred and goerge weasley #fred weasley x reader imagine #fred weasley oneshot #fred weasley x gryffindor reader #fred weasley x reader broken arm #fred weasley x injured reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x fem reader #i took ten years to write this #george weasley x reader

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winchesterxxi · 4 years ago

Text

My Favorite Ghost (Poe Dameron x Reader)

Rating: T (Teen and Up Audiences)

Type: Angst

Summary: What happens when a Resistance fighter gets trapped on Republican grounds and the man in charge of her torture is none other than her ex-husband Poe Dameron, former Leia Organa’s protegée turned First Order Admiral?

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Force-sensitive reader, torture, graphic descriptions of violence, blood, injuries, swearing, death.

A/N: Poe Dameron angst??? oof

MASTERPOST | REQUEST HERE | KO-FI

✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸

The mission couldn’t’ve gone more astray.

It was a simple and easy task for a single person to carry out. Fly below the cruiser, get in, get their coordinates for their next targets and get out. Hand the coordinates over to Holdo, and prevent the StarDestroyer from blazing those planets.

Simple. Until it wasn’t.

It all went astray when a face scanner crossed your path. The blueprints didn’t mention any face scanner on that door. You panicked, trying to get your face to scan and let you in, resorting to fiddling with the wires on the side of the device looking left and right to make sure no one would catch you. Except they did.

4 stormtroopers rounded the corner and, hands full with a small screwdriver and needle-nose pliers, you couldn’t have moved fast enough to reach your blaster before they had pinned you against a wall, face against the cold metal.

Next thing you knew, a dark sac is being put over your head and right after your body is pulled away from the wall, a hard object hits the back of your head and you are knocked out cold.

You don’t know how long it had passed before you regained your senses, eyes struggling to open due to the immense brightness that was aimed at you from a light above.

You scanned around the room as much as your body allowed you to, for you soon enough came to find everything below your neck strapped to a metal platform that stood upright in the middle of the room you were in.

You could spot a few cameras pointed at you, and you could also hear steps and muffled voices outside as well as a distant and low rumble of the ship’s engines – you should be close to the cockpit. Most torture rooms tended to be. That way, the commanders and soldiers don’t need to walk far to deliver information obtained from those captured.

The thoughts in your head didn’t have much more time to run wild as the big double doors in front of you opened and gave way to a silhouette to step into the room before they closed again behind them.

For as much as you forced your eyes to read them, it was practically impossible because of the light pointed directly at your face, coming from above. All you could see was the bottom of their uniform – knee-high dark leather boots and black pants, either a general or an admiral, and the clenched fists in shiny leather gloves - as they stood in front of you, hidden from the light.

“Are we getting this over with anytime soon?” you question bitterly while resting your head back and closing your eyes. You’d be damned if you were going to show any fear to anyone within this ship.

“Although I won’t blame you for just standing there, I know I’m pretty pleasant to look at.” Confidence, fake it until you make it. Or until you piss someone off, which is a better description of what you were aiming at.

“Can’t argue with that.”

Your blood runs cold.

Head snapping back down, facing forward, your jaw tightens and your whole body tenses at the reverberation of those words against the metal walls. And that is when the person you dreaded the most to run into again, in your whole life, steps into your sight.

His eyes meet yours and for a moment you think your mind is deceiving you.

This isn’t him.

Those eyes do not belong to the face in front of you. They aren’t his eyes. His eyes had a constant sparkle in them with the life that bubbled inside of him; they were big, brown, kind and caring.

These are hard, dark and cold. Lifeless.

“Poe.”

Despite his name leaving your lips in something little above a whisper, you know that name no longer refers to him. Not in the way it was engraved in your mind. Poe was your husband, the lively and witty resistance pilot that Leia Organa had assured you were meant for you. And maybe he was. But this isn’t Poe. This is someone – something else.

“It’s Admiral Dameron.”

You grith your teeth together and have to muster all the strength in you to not let your bottom lip quiver at the coldness and lack of emotion in his voice, so distant from that you were used to in the sweet nothings that would reach your ears in the mornings you’d wake up in his arms.

“What do you want?” you ask him, voice tainted with both pain and disgust.

“I could ask you the same thing. You were the one caught in our ground, trying to break a facial recognition system. What exactly were you looking to get?”

“It was outside the navigation system room. Take a wild guess.” Your anger-powered wit met a halt, as a sharp pain ran through your whole body with great intensity.

A pained screamed was let out of your mouth, muscles tensing and thrusting your body forward against the metal boundaries that enveloped your ankles, thighs, wrists, middle and upper torso.

Once the sting stopped, you threw your body back, chest rising and falling rapidly, trying to catch your breath, as Poe circled where you stood.

“Being a smartass won’t get you anywhere.” He taunts from behind you.

“Because being honest and cooperative will get me a congratulatory snack after this, right?” you weren’t about to give in, and apparently neither was he as another violent ache ran across your body, this time for a few more seconds longer.

“You really don’t listen to people’s warnings, do you?” he snaps his intimidating eyes at you while coming back around to stand in front of you.

“I had a good teacher.” You manage to jeer through gritted teeth. That gets a reaction out of it. One that would be imperceptible to the common person, unless they had been married and in love with them, so much so that they picked up on every little quirk.

“You do realize you’re not getting out of here alive.” It wasn’t even a question, more so of a statement as his lowered head allowed his eyes to look up at you through his lashes, and your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach at the realization, and you have to blink away the tears that threatened to make an appearance.

“You would do that? Kill me?”

“It’s protocol. Resistance scum dies, either if they deliver a confession or not.”

“You won’t even say my name, but you’re okay with having your hands being the ones that put an end to my life?” he doesn’t answer, breaking the wall he had put up for a fraction of a second when his eyes wander around, away from yours. “And Resistance scum? Wow, your ego really is something.”

“Shut up.”

“The only scum I see here is the one standing in front of me, who betrayed friends and family to save his own ass”

“I SAID SHUT UP.” His left-hand slams against the metal behind you, just a few inches away from your face and you flinch, eyes closing at the sudden movement, the fleeting possibility that he could hit you crossing your mind.

When you open your eyes you see his face just inches away from yours, heavy breathing fanning against your face, his hand still rested next to you.

Your eyes are distant, looking somewhere above his other shoulder as you shift your right hand, as much as the restraints allowed, palm facing upward and fingers spread. Between your faces surges a ring, attached to a silver chain that surrounded your neck.

You bite the inside of your cheek and a single tear spills out of your right eye, his attention remaining on the object floating in front of him.

That is his mother’s wedding ring, or rather, it was, until the day he gently put it around your neck, the day that was now so far behind in time that, together with the present circumstances almost felt like a fever dream. He had insisted that you both didn’t need wedding rings as the simple act of you wearing his necklace, the one everyone knew was destined to rest against the sternum of whoever he’d end up deciding on spending the rest of his life with, was enough.

And you never took it off. Not after he started to seem more distanced. Not when he’d started to snap at you. Not when the fights started. Not when you started to sleep in separate rooms. Not when he turned on you mid-mission and started to shoot at your X-Wing. Not when, moments after that, he turned his X-Wing around, killing a few other Resistance pilots. And not when he flew away, following the First Order fleet.

You never took it off.

Closing your eyes, you relax your hand and let the ring fall back against your chest and Poe pushes his hand off the metal, taking a few steps back. He looked… ill at ease.

“What happened, Poe?” you whisper, voice begging for an answer, his name sounding on your lips for the second time today, the most it’s had in little over a year. And, surprisingly, he doesn’t correct the way you address him.

“There was never a chance of us winning. We were outnumbered, our technology wasn’t as advanced… It was either surrender or joining them.” Something tightens inside of you at the way he used us and them to reference the Resistance and the First Order. He was referring to himself as Resistance. Probably unconscious. You decide against pointing it out or correcting him.

“And you chose to join them.” You slowly nod “Was it all so meaningless to you that you could just turn your back on us?”

“The Resistance will forever be doomed.” He utters bitterly.

“You wanna talk about forever?” you question, eyes red and glazed with how wet they were, and he stares at you.

“THIS –“ you raise your voice and look down, motioning to the ring resting against your flight suit, before looking back up to meet his gaze “WAS FOREVER.”

Your words and the silence that followed hung between the two of you almost as making the air in the room thicker by the second.

“Do you ever even think about me anymore? Or does your every thought revolve around these people?” tears sting your eyes once more and you take a shaky breath in “Every morning when I wake up I still expect to have my cheek resting against your chest, but there’s only a pillow. When I go to Leia I expect you to be standing next to her, planning some sort of strategy. When I fly in my X-Wing I still expect the commlink to crackle with your voice. When I see BB rolling my way, I still look up in hopes of seeing you walk up behind him. I hate you. I hate you so much. I hate you with every fibre of my being. But I also love you in equal measure.”

Poe remains immobile, standing a few feet ahead of you, the device that controls the electric shocks tightly fisted in his left hand and he is looking at you, straight ahead. At this point, you are panting with the effort of mustering out all of those words and feelings through the tears and sobs that rattle your whole body.

“Somehow, after all the shit you’ve done, I still love-”

You don’t manage to finish those words, the second time you’d be uttering them in over a year as they die on your lips and are replaced by a glass-shattering scream of pain, as the sharp burst of electricity travels your body once more during a much more excruciatingly long time. All your muscles tense as much as they can and you forget what breathing feels like.

Once Poe’s thumb slides of the control button, your whole body jerks forward, panting, tears falling to the ground beneath your hovering feet, head down. Despite the rational choice being to shut up you need to say this. You know that he is still there, somewhere, below all that darkness that took hold of him. He is still there. And you need to get him out.

“I still lo-“

Poe’s thumb slides over the button once again, inflicting another piercing wave of torture to your already spent body. Something is, indeed, still in him as this time around he can’t bring himself to look at you and at the way the electricity is slowly but surely bringing you closer to a point of no return. And despite the tears blurring your vision, this fact doesn’t go unnoticed.

After he relieves the pressure on the button, your body no longer jolts forward but instead goes limp against the metal board, the back of your head resting against it, mouth starting to taste like blood, which peeks through the corner of your mouth.

“You won’t even look.” You struggle to get the words out, voice coming out raspy and hurting as it passes through your throat.

“If you’re going to kill me, at least be man enough to look at me when you do it.”

Your whole body is pulsing with aftershocks of pain and you are struggling to keep your eyes open, feeling your eyelids grow heavier. Just when you are about to close your eyes, just to rest them, you told yourself, you hear Poe’s voice for the first time since he told you the Resistance was doomed.

“After all this, do you still love me?” Your brain can’t quite comprehend if by this he means the torture or all the events that you crying about earlier, the ones that led him to join the First Order.

Either way, the answer would be the same.

“Yes.”

Jaw tensing, Poe pushes the button in his fist one more time, watching your body light up with the blue electric jolts that ran your full height up and down, side to side, travelling through each of your limbs eating away at the remaining life in your body. His lips were trembling just the slightest and his eyes, lit with the image in front of him, started to be glazed by tears.

He didn’t let the button go for much longer than he previously had, being completely lost inside his mind and out of it at the realisation that even after all the shit he put you through and the hurt he caused you, you still loved him.

It wasn’t until he stopped seeing you squirm that his finger release the button and your body fell completely limp against the metal, head falling down, the metal loops preventing you from falling forwards completely. He hesitated in stepping closer to you, scared of you moving or rather not, he wasn’t sure.

But his heart gave in to the breaking of itself when the latter possibility turned out to be the truth.

You weren’t moving.

You weren’t breathing.

There was blood dripping from your mouth onto the floor.

You were gone.

And he did it.

A trembling hand of his came up to push your head back against the platform holding you.

That’s when he took a good look at your lifeless face, and a shaky exhale left his lungs.

Oh, how he still loved you.

He wanted to cradle your face in his hands a lay a kiss against your forehead, run his knuckles against your cheek and wipe the blood away from your soft lips.

But they were watching him. The cameras were pointed at him and the microphones were on, preventing him from freely displaying any kind of affection towards you.

Blinking away the tears and trying to keep his body language as much stoic as possible, his gloved hand reaches up for the ring that hung from the chain draped around your neck and he pulled it down, breaking the silver link as it released the hold it had on you.

He slid the ring into the chest pocket of his uniform before walking away, towards the door, and out. Leaving the lifeless body of the only person who could ever allow him redemption behind, limp and broken.

✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸

TAGLISTS

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@blondekel77 @pedrobreakmyback

POE DAMERON TAGLIST

@niall2017

✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸

#My Favourite Ghost #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #star wars #angst #poe dameron angst #oscar isaac x reader #FirstOrder!Poe x reader #fo!poe dameron x reader

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hansensgirl · 4 years ago

Text

don’t fence me in.

summary | Your lonesome birthday celebrations are disrupted by two super soldiers on a mission.

warnings | Noncon turned dubcon sex, violence, drinking, breaking and entering, dark themes, smut, praise, choking, knifeplay but not really, threats, vaginal sex, anal sex, double penetration, threesome, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, nipple play, Captain kink, Sergeant kink, authority kink?, manhandling, +18 ONLY.

pairings | Dark!Stucky x reader, Dark!Bucky Barnes x reader, Dark!Steve Rogers x reader.

word count | 3,842 (i went overboard lol)

authors note | happy birthday @threeminutesoflife!! i hope you have a wonderful day, and i hope you have a wonderful day. mina, god damn it where do i start? your dark!neighbour!steve fic was one of the first dark fics i ever read, and it was amazing! you’re an amazing friend and your sense of humour is to die for. you’re one of the most talented writers i’ve ever met and to be honest i always end up re-reading your fics. ilysm, happy birthday!! (this isn’t the best birthday note i’m so sorry, i just woke up!) also i’ll add the keep reading break later!

You sighed as you slipped beneath the strawberry bubbles that resembled fluffy clouds. They engulfed your body and you could barely see your own hands and legs. A giggle escaped past your soft lips and you grabbed the flute of cheap rosé. It wasn’t much, but it was something. After nine long hours of answering phone calls and giving thanks for the birthday wishes, you were finally able to relax. You turned up the melancholic tunes of Ella Fitzgerald and gulped down the rest of your drink. You shut your eyes and hummed along to the tune of Don’t Fence Me In before beginning to sing along to the catchy chorus. “Oh give me land, lots of land under starry skies above-” No, you’re just going insane. Surely you didn’t just hear the loud squeak of your floorboards. You turned down the volume of the music and peaked out the open door of your bathroom. “Hello?” You called out, but the silent void of your apartment didn’t reply.

That was your first mistake.

You shook your paranoia off and filled your glass again, turning the music back up. Your intentions were to stay there until you finished the bottle of rosé, or until your fingers became prune-like. As the next song began to play, you heard another odd sound in the distance. A- A whir? No, no! It’s just the swishing of the water, or- or the music. You decided to keep your music at a low volume. Your breathing became erratic and your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest. There wasn’t anyone else with you, right? The slight tremor that your body now carried made the rosé in your glass purl. You still could hear Ella’s voice, and it was eerie. The room felt blue and dull, dispirated and desolate. You couldn’t hear anything else, just your breathing. But you weren’t stupid, you weren’t a coward.

As quiet as you could, you slowly stood up from the bathtub and tried to step out without disturbing the bubble-filled water. You grabbed your phone and pulled a robe on, not even bothering to dry your skin. Your eyes darted around the small room as you tried to find something to defend yourself with. The rosé bottle was a type of plastic that couldn’t harm someone even if you tried your hardest. You opened the cupboards beneath the sink and found a blow dryer. You could inflict a lot of harm with it for sure, but did you really think you could have a chance against not one - but two super soldiers? You tried to pace your breathing and you slowly began to walk out of your small bathroom. You carefully looked around your bedroom and you didn’t know what to do next.

Your teeth were chattering, just like that one time you woke up startled by fire alarms. Your heart felt like it was going to jump out again, and your sweaty palms nearly made the blow dryer in your hands slip out. You wiped your palms on your robe and you gripped the blow dryer even tighter. You opened the door and nearly shed a tear when it made a slight sound. You poked your head out the slight crease and you looked around. That was your second mistake. You walked out of your bedroom and into your living area, not as afraid as before. You whipped your head around repeatedly, feeling as if there was someone else in the room with you.

Goosebumps pebbled on your skin and the hairs on your neck raised on instinct. You opened up the closet and looked around. You even checked your kitchen cabinets just in case. That was your third mistake. You looked at your door and noticed that the lock was completely fine. Not one thing wrong. But still, how could you be so sure? You decided to trust your gut feeling for once. You unlocked your phone and froze up for a bit. What were you going to do? Clearly, the rosé had gone to your head. “Fear and alcohol, what a mix.” You muttered. You shook your head and exhaled deeply, before taping on the phone app.

You began to dial 911 slowly, letting your guard down. “Shh babydoll.” A voice rasped as a cold hand clamped itself on your mouth. You let out a scream, but the sound was muffled by the handle. You dropped your phone and the screen shattered as soon as it hit the ground. Everything soon began to turn a few shades darker, slowly but surely. The voices that spoke sounded as if they were distant, before turning to radio static.

—

“She’s up, Buck.” Steve calls out to the Sergeant. Your vision was blurry for a second, and your head had a slight thrumming to it. What happened? There was a man — no — two men. “Thank god doll, gave us a bit of a scare there,” the brunette coldly spoke, his eyes holding a stoic gaze that was directed at you. Your hands were tied with one of your handkerchiefs that your mother had gifted you a few years back. The knot nearly cut off your circulation, and through all your wriggling you just couldn’t undo it. Your feet were tied as well, immobilizing your legs.

Now how could you really escape?

Panic surged through your body and you began to flail around, screaming out for help. Your distress was muffled by Steve’s coarse hand and your flailing about ceased when Bucky gripped you tightly. They both chided you like a child, as if they wouldn’t have done the same if they were in your position. You took in their appearances. They both looked gruff, beards that covered their jaws and long hair that was a bit dirty. They were in tactical gear, almost as if they were on a mission. Were you the mission? Were they going to kill you? The thought had your chest tightening and you began to heave. Your eyes darted around and tears streamed down your face. Though they were muffled, the sobs shook your body violently.

“Oh no, baby. No no, don’t cry!” Steve taunted, not even bothering to wipe your tears. Bucky let out a breathy chuckle and shook his head, before looking down at your feet. Your tears increased and they soon sighed softly, wiping your tears away. “We’re not going to kill you, so hush.” Steve grumbled, loosening his grip from you. Bucky did the same but you still felt their strong hands lingering. You cowered away from them and they smirked. Bucky pulled the knife out of his thigh holster and you nearly blacked out with fear once again. He began to twirl it between his long finger and he maintained eye contact with you the whole time.

“But, you see, doll, if you try anything that doesn’t sit well with us, Buck and I can easily cut you until you pass out, or die.” He threatened, beginning to undress himself. You watched him instead of watching Bucky twirl his knife. You unconsciously bit your lip, making Bucky smile. As he slowly pulled down his boxers, Steve’s cock bounced up and slapped his lower abdomen, leaving a smudge of pre-cum behind. He had a raging hard on that was red and leaking, and the sight of it made you gulp thickly. “You won’t do anything, baby?” Steve asked, grabbing ahold of where your arms were tied together. You nodded furiously as you were desperate to stay alive at the hands of them.

Bucky knowingly smirked for the second time and he put the knife away before shedding himself of his tactical gear. Their rippling abs and greek god-like bodies made your jaw drop. “Close it, baby, before I shove my cock in there.” Bucky leaned down and untied your legs. He frowned at the angry marks the rope had left on your raw skin. He brought your feet up to his face and he peppered kisses across both of your feet. The feeling of his scruff against your feet was ticklish, causing you to jerk away from him on instinct. He growled and gripped your ankles even tighter, before using his grip to pull you closer to him. You whimpered from his force and nearly flinched away as he applied pressure. You thought that he would’ve popped your ankle right there and then if it weren't for Steve. He sharply ordered the brute soldier to yield, and you wanted to let out a sigh of relief.

Steve untied the robe slowly and you panicked. “S- Stop!” You cried out, making him growl. He ripped the robe off your body and you immediately felt goosebumps form. Your nipples turned into hard peaks and the two men let out moans. You felt humiliated under their predatory looks. Steve’s hands roughly palmed at your breasts, pinching your nubs every now and then. Bucky’s flesh hand crawled up your legs and towards your honey pot. You whined when you felt him rub your clit. His movements were rough yet sweet at the same time. He clearly was different from Steve in certain ways. An unwelcome gush of arousal flowed out of you, making Bucky’s plump lips curl into a sinister smile. It was the type of smile that made you feel both uneasy and titillated. He spread the wetness around and pulled a few whimpers out of you.

Steve latched his mouth on one of your bruised breasts as his fingers continued to twiddle with the other. Steve looked up and you and gleamed as your mouth fell open. Bucky had pushed one thick digit into your drooling hole and his metal hand reached for his cock. The pace he fingered you at was the same as the pace he stroked his cock with. Slow, tender yet rough. Your eyes followed the thick droplets of pre-cum that leaked from the tip of his cock. From there, you noticed the throbbing veins that trailed up and down his cock. Everytime his finger ever so slightly touched it, he cursed. You looked away from Bucky and tried to find something to focus your distant stare on. Steve’s hand left your breast and moved to the side of your head. He wiped the sweat on your forehead and his mouth let go of your nipple with a loud ‘pop’.

He pulled your head closer and closer until the gap between your bodies closed. Bucky’s finger sped up and you found it quite arduous to keep up with the kiss Steve has pulled you into. You whimpered when you felt that all-too familiar pressure beginning to build up. It seared through your abdomen, and the impending of it coursed through your veins. You cried out as you felt yourself cumming. You gripped Steve’s bicep for support and dug your nails into the already scarred skin. Your cum coated Bucky’s finger, the sight of the creamy substance making him moan. He didn’t stop thrusting, though. Instead he sped his thrusts up and began to grind the palm of his hand against your clit.

You couldn’t handle the overstimulation. You turned your head away from Steve and tried to move across the bed. Steve quickly grabbed ahold of you and pulled you back into him. Bucky pushed another thick finger into you and stretched your tight walls. It hurt for a few moments, but the pain soon turned into pleasure. Bucky thrusted his fingers in and out of you at a rough pace, your wetness coating his fingers. “Fuck, such a good fucking girl.” He grunted as he felt your cunt clench around his fingers. “Can’t wait to fill this pussy up, to feel it clench all around my big cock.” Steve groans, grabbing your hands.

He wraps them around his hard, leaking cock. A harsh squeeze to the back of your neck screams at you to start stroking him. You moved your hands up and down slowly, watching in awe. Thick beads of pre-cum leaked from his aching tip, just like Bucky’s cock. The fingers that were buried in your pussy slowed and the fire that had just surrounded you was dying down. You brought your mouth down to his cock and dragged your tongue across the tip.The husky, manly taste of Steve made you even wetter. “Good girl.” He praised as you sucked on the head lightly. The sooner you pleasured him, the faster it would all be over, right?

Steve shoved you further down his cock, making you gag and sputter. The veins on the sides throbbed with want and anticipation. You slacked your jaw as you took him into your mouth slowly. You swallowed thickly as you tried to relax your throat and you struggled to breathe. He bucked his hips up once your nose met his lightly trimmed pubic hair. The virtuous hero began to shallowly fuck your mouth. You hollowed your cheeks out and flattened your tongue against the bottom of his cock. He groaned everytime you gagged or swallowed, and your struggle made Bucky chuckle as well. Bucky pulled his fingers out of your cunt and he brought his fingers up to his mouth.

He sucked your juices off of his digits and moaned at the sweet taste of it as his mouth was filled with ecstasy. Steve abruptly pulled your head off and you struggled to gasp for air. You coughed a few times and tears leaked out of the corners of your eyes. “Such a good girl.” Steve praised you as he wiped the tears and spit from your face. “Now what do you say?” He questioned, making you furrow your eyebrows with confusion. You looked at him, then looked at Bucky. He quickly turned your head back to face him. He raised an eyebrow and sighed before speaking. “You gotta thank me, dollface. Do ya know how many girls fawn over me just for a taste? You’re lucky.” He spat. You whimpered at his tone, hating yourself for how you unhesitatingly opened your mouth to speak and to suck his cock. “T- Thank you, Captain!” You exclaimed, eager to feed his overly large ego.

“Fuck…” He groaned, his cock becoming even harder. “Shit, are you going to be a good girl for your Captain and Sergeant?” He asked, tilting your chin up. “Yes, Captain!” You nodded eagerly. Bucky lifted you up from behind and manhandled you around. You found yourself being sandwiched between the two Avengers. Bucky wrapped his coarse flesh hand around your throat and he squeezed your neck slightly. You grabbed his wrist out of instinct but you didn’t try to pull it away. Steve spread your legs and folded them up to your chest, and you didn’t bother closing them. Your clit throbbed with want and need as Steve ran his fingers up and down your soaking folds. The feeling of cold metal against your abused breasts made you moan. The lewd sound filled the air and the two of them couldn’t wait to have you moaning with their cocks in you. Steve’s fingers grazed over your sopping hole. You jerked away from him when you felt those very same fingers prodding at your tight rim. The hand that was around your neck tightened and you gasped for breath.

“You were being so good for us, dollface. What the fuck?” Bucky growled, pinching one of your nipples. “I- I’m sorry, Sergeant.” You shakily apologized. You watched as Steve’s jaw clenched and unclenched, undoubtedly terrifying you. You swore you saw your life flash before your eyes. They were like ticking bombs; one wrong move and everything can go wrong. Their features softened when they saw how fear etched yours. Bucky loosened his grip slightly as well. “It’s okay baby, you just need to be good for us and it’ll be good for you!” Steve spoke. He pulled his fingers away from your ass and pushed them into your tight cunt. You moaned as he stretched you out, his fingers massaging your walls. Your slick thickly covered his fingers, making him moan at the sight.

“You love my fingers in your sweet little pussy, right? Say it.” He taunted, speeding his movements up. You nodded pathetically and moaned loudly. “Fuck, I love your fingers in my pussy, Captain!” You cried out, feeling your orgasm surge through your body. You clenched around his fingers and your bottom lip gets caught between your teeth. You bite down hard - just as hard as your orgasm had hit you - drawing blood. The metal taste of it isn't what you care for though. It's the ache that grows between your legs as he forces you to ride out your orgasm. “N- No! Stop, please. ‘S too sensitive” you whine out. “But, doll, you’re doing so well for us!” Bucky cooes, wiping the mixture of blood and saliva off of your lips. You let out a string of strangled moans as Steve rubs your lonely clit. “P- Please, Captain! Please, Sergeant!” You begged, the overstimulation becoming too much for you to handle. You couldn't believe how sensitive you were.

Your cunt fluttered as the Captain pulled his fingers out of your cunt. He wastes no time as he slowly pushes his soaking fingers against your tighter hole. You yelped loudly and looked up at the Sergeant with pleading eyes and Bucky nearly came right there and then. The tips of Steve fingers pushed in and you tightened up immediately. “Stop, please! It hurts Captain” you cried out. But your word fell deaf ears. Your exhorts spurred him on as he pulled his fingers out. Bucky released his grip on your throat and rolled you over. You straddled Bucky’s thick thighs and Steve came up from behind you.

“You're being so good, baby. Taking our fingers in that tight little cunt and taking your Captain’s big cock in your mouth… Now you’re going to get your well-deserved award, okay?” Your cunt clenched around air as Bucky praised you. His husky voice sent shivers down your back and a sick part of you wanted more. You wanted to hear him praise you more and more, you wanted to hear both of them praise you. Bucky looked down as he grasped his cock to rub it up and down your abused pussy. The red tip of his cock bumped against your clit before teasing your sensitive hole. He pushed in slowly and you shocked your head violently. It hurt so bad. Your nails clawed into his skin and you struggled to breathe as he bottomed out in your cunt. You felt so full, your arousal leaked down his cock and your entire body ached.

You nearly forget about Steve. His broad hands spread your ass cheeks apart, giving him access to your poor second hole. His cockhead slowly began to push in and you nearly blacked out from the excruciating pain. His cock was still covered with your saliva and it acted as a lube. It wasn't like it did anything. A third set of tears began to stream down your face. Bucky wiped away the tears and dragged his thumb along your bottom lip. “You’re doing so good, baby” he praised, his eyes blown out with lust. A sheen of sweat covered your foreheads, but the sight of Bucky was something that you’d never seen before. “Fuck…” He groaned, feeling your cunt convulse around his cock as Steve continued to push in. You wondered to yourself if he was ever going to bottom out, if they would ever leave, if this would ever end.

You all groaned in unison once Steve’s pelvis met your ass. Steve bent down to suck a trail of marks onto your skin. Bruises of all kinds littered your skin. They pulled their cocks out before slamming themselves back into you. You felt like you were being split in half by their cocks. They fucked into you hard and fast, their thrusted racking your body each time. Bucky’s cock nudged against your g-spot over and over and Steve growled each time you squeezed around them. You fell against Bucky’s chest and felt a growl rip through him. He fucked up into you relentlessly and Steve wrapped his arm around you. You felt him put his hand around your neck and lean down to your ear. He moaned loudly and you felt a new wave of arousal course through you. Steve’s other hand spanks you, the pain of it all pushing you closer to the edge. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck… Gonna cum!” You squealed like a schoolgirl, your jaw falling open.

Your eyes shut tightly as you came hard. Your chest heaved and Bucky watched you coat his cock with your cum. Bucky reaches up and grabs your breasts harshly. You clenched around Steve’s cock and he groans. “Shit! Such a good girl, milking your Sergeants cock huh? You love our big fat cocks fucking you, don’t ya?” His Brooklyn drawl is unlike anything you had ever heard, but his words were what had you moaning. They fucked you even harder, wrecking your holes. You babbled like a baby and your orgams began to blend into each other. “So. Fucking. Tight!” Steve shouted out, as each word is punctuated by a sharp thrust. You felt their thrusts growing sloppy, irregular. You moaned pornographically, your eyes rolling back into your skull as you neared your nth orgasm.

Stars fill your already hazy vision and you cream all over Bucky’s thick cock. “Oh fuck!” They both shout out, their balls tightening. Neither of them could hold back at that point. Bucky came inside of you and so did Steve. The warmth of it made you moan out of shame. They painted your walls and filled you up with their cum, before shallowly thrusting. Steve pulled out with no care, making your frown in pain. He watched in awe as his cum leaked out of your gaping hole. It held a slight tinge of pink to it, satisfying the Star-Spangled Man’s sadistic side. He lifted you off of Bucky’s cock and turned you around. You involuntarily wrapped your legs around his built torso and hid your face in the crook of his neck. You felt dirty, ashamed that you enjoyed it so much. Ashamed that they made you cum multiple times, and you didn’t even fight it all. Were you so lonely that you sought to find comfort in the two men that broke into your house and forced themselves onto you?

You felt Bucky’s cum beginning to leak down your thighs. It was so debauched, so scandalous. You felt your eyes grow heavy, tiredness wearing over you. But when you felt Bucky’s cock against your ass, you had a newfound feeling of energy. You tried to escape them, writhing in their strong grips. “Aw, poor baby thought we were finished, hm?” Steve jeered at you. Bucky chuckled in a soft yet harsh baritone.

“The birthday celebrations aren’t even over yet, doll.”

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