#I feel like he wouldn’t know his knees aren’t supposed to hurt like that until after the group gets the body swap fae curse the first time

[withlove-xixi]

— SWEET TOOTH: portgas d. ace x reader

KINKTOBER DAY SEVEN: FACESITTING ᥫ cw: nsfw, facesitting, oral sex ᥫ wc: 1129 ★ erm . this prompt was meant for kiryu but i couldnt figure out how to do it, so we are getting ace instead yipee cross posted on ao3 — MINORS DNI! —

— ACE LIKED ALL SORTS OF FOOD.

[♡]: he wasn’t quite a picky eater at all and he was always willing to try new things. the things he wouldn’t eat were a small dwindle of a handful of things, but even then he’d eat the if they were prepared right. ace didn’t have preferences, well, that is except his sweet tooth for you.

WHEN ACE FIRST ASKED YOU TO SIT ON HIS FACE, he knew you were hesitant. For starters, you had never done this before. Though it was far from the first time Ace would eat you out, you couldn’t help but be nervous. Sure, you’ve heard couples doing these things but you never thought to actually try it. You weren’t quite sure how it went and all the more you were unsure how it would go. Despite being more or less willing to try all of Ace’s requests when it came to your sex life, every time he suggested something you couldn’t help but be just a bit nervous about it. It was natural to be wary of new things after all. But you trusted Ace, and really, sitting on his face seemed harmless enough.

“S’okay, baby, I can take it. Don’t gotta worry ‘bout me,” he had said reassuringly with a cheeky grin. “‘Sides, I know you wouldn’t hurt me, yeah? I’ll tell ya if it’s too much.”

Still there was some hesitation on your part, but you agree regardless, admittedly a bit curious on how things would go. So there you were, Ace’s face lay directly beneath you while you sat on your knees above him. Looking down, you can see the way he eyes you hungrily, tracing over the space between your thighs with such intense want it makes you shiver and clench instinctively. He licks his lips in anticipation, big hands resting on either of your thighs, rubbing circles on your skin to calm you down.

Your lip quivers at the sight of him, the way his lips are slightly parted, the way the edge of his hot breath fans against your skin, the way his eyes aren’t even looking back at yours, just tunnel visioning on your sex, eager to taste it. You swallow nervously, waiting for Ace to move, to say something. But instead he stays still, he stays quiet. The only noise from him is his deep breathing, it sounds like he’s panting. And the only movement from him is the twitch of his fingers, the steady drum of them against your skin.

It takes a bit for it to click that he was waiting for you. The realization only set you a bit more on edge because you had been waiting for him. And really you thought that this proximity was enough, that Ace would meet you halfway. But you supposed you weren’t really sitting so much as you were somewhat awkwardly hovering over him. With mustered scraps of courage, your hands find support in the headboard of the bed as you shakily lower yourself, just slightly to test the waters and see how low you can actually get.

Ace’s breath hitches when you move, and you hear the soft sound of him squirming around beneath you. It’s enough to encourage you to go a bit lower, lower and lower until you feel his nose brush against you. You jolt at the sudden touch, a shiver running up your spine at the realization he was way nearer than you anticipated. You feel his fingers dig into your skin, his grip on you tightening in an almost desperate way.

“Baby…” Ace pleas, breathily, dreamily. His hands travel from the sides of your thighs to your hips.

Then suddenly, you’re pulled downward, strong hands pressing you flush against his face. He straight up moans at the contact, not wasting a second to start licking and sucking away at your warmth. It takes you a second to recover from your initial shock, the sudden electric shock that tingles all over your body when his tongue laps over your hole with gusto. You grip the headboard tighter, your body lurches forward that your head’s now against it too. Moans and whines leave your lips like prayer as Ace eats his heart out, making sure every inch of your sex is given the same attention from his tongue and his lips.

He eats you out messier than normal. There’s a slick, almost sticky feeling that runs against your thighs and his cheeks; you’re almost certain it was his spit. You moan as your thighs clench, trapping his head between them. Ace groans in response and his mouth moves faster, hungrier, like you had added more fuel to the fire. His hand stay on your hips, holding onto the for dear life. You whimper when you feel him nuzzle his face against you, his nose brushing against your skin.

“H-hah— Ace… W-wait, you— Need to b-breathe—” You rasp between pants and whines, finally finding the courage to look at his face.

He feels your thighs clench when his eyes meet your pretty, pleasured expression. You must’ve been taken aback from the sudden eye contact. Ace chuckles at the thought, you were such a cutie.

What he doesn’t realize is his chuckles, muffled by your weight, vibrate so nicely against you. You sit up-right at the feeling, unknowingly grinding your hips against him, chasing your own high. If you had the mind to conjure coherent thoughts, you might’ve noticed Ace’s lips briefly curl upwards into a sly smile before going back to eating you out. His hands begin to help guide your hips, rocking you steadily to the pace you set. God, that bastard.

“Clo-close—! Ace—” You moan in strangled cries as your cum, thighs pressing against each other, locking his head in place, body freezing up as waves of pleasure wash over you, eyes shut tightly in blissful release.

All the while, Ace laps up your release, his tongue working against the crevices of your entrance as his hands continue to slowly rock your hips against his face, letting your ride out your high. You whimper quietly as your body slowly relaxes, your hands finally letting go of the headboard. You tilt your head back to stare blankly at the ceiling, catching your breath and letting the final fleeting waves of pleasure wash away. 

There’s a short moment of almost complete silence before Ace hurriedly pats at your thigh. Dazily, you look down to meet his eyes, only to see his brows are furrowed and there’s this almost panicked look in his eyes. Only then do you realize Ace very much needed to breathe.

Quickly you hop off him and he instantly gasps for air. You lean over him, worried. You scan his face for any sign of discomfort, but you’re met with the aftermath of your orgasm, the entire bottom half of his face covered in his saliva and remnants of whatever cum he wasn’t able to swallow. Shyly, you lick your lips, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by Ace, who bears a lopsided grin despite his heavy panting.

“Wasn’t so bad now was it, sugar?”

[aurorasgate]

can i kiss you more, your grace?

wriothesley x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, oral (male receiving), a little bit of hair pulling, i am so in love with this man

you hadn’t exactly meant for your teasing kisses and words to turn this; a pillow under your knees to keep the cold metal ground from making them ache, your panties growing damper and damper at the heavy feeling of wriothesleys cock on your tongue and the taste of his pre sticky on the back of throat. but really, you should have known you wouldn’t be getting away all sly and giggling like you hoped when you kissed over his clothed crotch as you hugged his standing figure while you sat on a chair in his office after he brought you a cup of tea.

sigewinne was supposed to be joining you soon after meeting with a patient but he was growing hard the moment your lips touched his clothed cock and the adorable mischief in your eyes when you looked up at him only turned him on more, made his heart skip a beat in time with the twitching of his confined length. that sparkling light quickly became fervent and needy when he gave you that smile of his, the one you never could resist - boyish and adoring - and said to you, ‘if you want me that bad angel, all you had to do was ask.’

your next words were the nail in the coffin for you both, ‘oh? so.. can i kiss you more, your grace?’, the words that easily coaxed the clicking of his belt and you to your knees, holding on his thick thighs for stability with one hand while you took as much of him as you could into your mouth and pumped the base of his cock in your other.

through thick dark lashes, blue eyes watch you take in his length through pretty lips until he’s hitting the back of your throat and you lightly gag trying to swallow him just a bit deeper. your saliva glistens on his length and the corner of your lips when you pull away nearly completely, the flat of your tongue running along his flushed and leaking tip before hollowing your cheeks and taking him in your mouth again. repeating and gagging on his fat cock because it’s too much but archons you can’t get enough of him.

“you’re so fucking gorgeous like this,” wriothesleys voice is octaves deeper, gruff and close to breathless thanks to how you’re working him and you can feel his dick throbbing in your mouth and in your hand and it makes you squeeze your legs together.

his hands in your hair tighten when you moan sweetly at his words, not enough to hurt - never to hurt you, but he helps you keep a nice pace, helps you take him a little deeper and fuck your throat is so tight, your breath so hot, there’s no way he’ll last long and you both know you don’t have much time anyways. 

you’re killing him, in the best way, and you aren’t doing much better. aching because your cunt is squeezing around nothing hearing the lewd squelching noises joined by his groans and moans, the noises he makes like honey in your ears. and when you begin to drag your wet hand in time with the movements of your bobbing mouth, your tongue wet and hot and trying to feel every long inch of him, he knows he’s done for and the heat between your own legs is begging to burst. 

his thigh in your gasp tenses, his fingers in your hair a dull pleasurable pull on your locks, and he curses under his breath as he watches you suck him through his high and swallow every last drop of his release before pulling away with a string of a mix of you both still connecting you to his mushroom tip.

if it wasn’t for the impending knock on the door, wrio would not have hesitated to take you right then and there on the ground, first eating you out until you were screaming his name and making a mess of his face. he wanted to taste you more than the tea that he had brewed that was getting cold with each passing moment but as he helped you from the floor before he even put away his still mostly hard cock and the knock on the door finally came, he knew he would have to wait.

after tucking himself back into his pants, the dukes attention is immediately brought back to you, scarred and tender hands soothing over your hair and cheeks until it looked like nothing at all had happened, the only evidence at all being the flush of you both, lingering bitterness of his cum on your tongue and the soaking panties between your legs.

“come in,” he answers the second more impatient knock on the door with a smirk, never once letting go of your face or breaking his gaze from your visage. 

you can’t help but stare and smile at him too, a light pink dusting his cheeks and ears making your stomach burst with butterflies, his chest still heaving and hands still needy for more of you, the azure of his eyes radiant like shy reflecting off of a lake after a storm and so full of love they left you breathless.

as she makes her way up the stairs, sigewinne says something that neither of you can hear clearly through the kiss you share and the secretly shared chuckle laced within it. but wriothesley kisses you again, deeper, hungrier, so much faster than you would have liked before pulling away to rest his forehead against your own, dark hair tickling your forehead.

“i can taste myself on your lips and it’s messing me up real bad sweetheart,” he whispers and you don’t miss how he bites his lip before moving away from you for real this time, welcoming sigewinne as he always did. 

it’s too fleeting when you need him this badly but you’re quickly brought back to reality when you hear your dearly loved melusine clearly this time and her words bring your cheeks to burst with uncontrollable heat and your boyfriend to bark out in laughter.

“if you needed more alone time you could have.. what's that thing humans do again? put your tie on the door or something.”

genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist

[idlestxrs]

Casual (Part 1 of 3) - Max Verstappen x Male!Reader

angst, toxic situationship, mentions of sex for like 3 seconds i wanted to fujoshi the fuck out

Max walked out of the garage enraged. Why did the media have to try to dig into his business like that? Into your business? Of course he denied all the rumors and questions you were both anything more than friends, because you weren’t. However,  he probably would have worded it better than his knee jerk response that flew out of his mouth that, in turn, made you feel like shit. He tried everyday to convince himself that’s all he viewed you as anyway. 

You were only supposed to be his teammate, then you both became friends that led to things going beyond a point of doing things people that only considered each other friends would do. 

The multiple times both of you were caught checking each other out by the other person that led to this entire mess. All the hugs, kisses, slow and rough sex. Things Max tried convincing himself meant nothing but to fill a void. He knew deep down though, that every single thing meant something. Especially when he held you snugly in his arms at night and you were asleep with your head against his chest. 

You on the other hand had known you’d fallen for him and you didn’t fight it at first, but now you wish you could start all over and stop yourself while you were ahead. 

Everything started feeling like just a casual, one call away when he felt lonely type of relationship. If you even wanted to call it one. It was a general understanding that Max didn’t want to come out like you had because of his reputation, but the fact he seemed to come and go as he pleased made everything feel so one sided.

Enough was enough. You were angry and hurt. You knew you deserved better no matter how much you loved him. Tears welled up in your eyes as you stormed after him. 

“Why the hell would you say it like that? Am I that repulsive to you? Because you don’t act like it when you’re desperate for someone to give you attention at night.” Your tears went away for now, being replaced by pent up anger not just from today, but for the months this had been going on. 

Max froze realizing you were shouting this where people could hear that probably shouldn’t. “Y/N. I understand you’re really upset with me, but please, let’s talk about this somewhere else. You know-” Max tried to calm you down, but you cut him off. “Yes I know. Let’s just go then.” You yelled as you stormed off to your car, glaring at him as he got into his. Not a single word was said the whole walk to his front door, but as soon as that door shut, everything picked right back up. “Why the hell did you say it? Why would your response to being asked if we were more than friends be what you said. Go ahead. Repeat it.” You crossed your arms and practically scolded him. “I’m sorry Y/N. What I said was beyond stupid, okay? I’m sorry that I said even if I was gay that I wouldn’t date you because you aren’t my type at all. I realized after I said that, it would hurt your feelings.” He sighed, mentally scolding himself in the process for being such an idiot. “Do you realize how shitty that makes me feel? I’m so tired of how you treat me so differently around different crowds of people. It makes no sense to me. To the press I’m the ass of all of your jokes. To your friends I’m just something casual so you can understand your sexuality better.” You began to get choked up on your words. You didn’t even realize how badly he’d hurt you until everything you’d been feeling was being spoken straight to his face. “When we’re alone or with your family though. I see a different side of you. You tell your parents I’m your best friend. Your mom adores me. Then, when we’re alone at night and we’ve been making out or we’ve had sex, you hold me like I’m your entire world. Whenever the sun comes up you’re gone. You completely change and act awkward around me until you’re wanting something.” Tears began falling from your eyes as the anger seeped out of your mouth with them. Max winced at your words. They stung because he knew everything you said was true. He treated you like shit. All because he was insecure inside about feeling the way he felt about you. He’d fallen harder than you could’ve even imagined and he was hating himself for it. 

“Y/N, you’re not someone I’m using to figure out my sexuality. I’m just telling my friends that because I’m not ready for them to know the true extent of what we have, just in case something slips. Neither do I want the public having any ideas. I don’t want to lose my dream or sponsors or anything like that. Is that so wrong of me?” Max became extremely defensive all due to you being able to leave him feeling so guilty for how he’d been treating you. “It’s crazy that we’re racing for the same team, with most of the same sponsors, and I’m out. I’m not saying you have to come out. That’s something you should only do when you’re ready, but dammit Max your reputation should not come at the expense of my heart being stabbed every time you get scared that your feelings are getting too deep.” You took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes. “If this isn’t going to go anywhere serious, we just need to cut it out. It’s killing me. This would be one thing if we were actually together and you were trying to cover it up until you were ready, but the fact you’ve said to my face, while we’re alone, that this is all just something casual, makes me feel like everything you’re telling me right now is bullshit. ” Max felt his heart drop. He didn’t want any of this to end, but he was horrified of his public image changing at all. He was feeling ashamed of himself for being so selfish. 

  “It’s just easier to say we’re casual. I’m not sure what I feel, but nothing I’ve said is a lie.” Max snapped. He didn’t like that you were so onto how he felt. He didn’t even understand why he was so scared for you to know he had fallen for you. He just couldn’t accept the fact he’d fallen for, not just any guy, but his teammate. “Easier to be casual when you hold me the way you do? You really want me to sit here and believe that’s the truth? And even if it is, why the fuck would you lead me on like this? I can’t do this shit anymore.” You stormed out, slamming the door behind you. As soon as you heard the bang of the door, tears poured down your face as you booked it to your car. Max stood there realizing how badly he’d fucked up. Something about the door slamming and hearing you cry from outside knocked something into him that probably came a second too late. 

“Fuck!” Max punched the wall after you’d left. He tried to call you but it just went straight to voicemail. He deserved it, and he knew you deserved better than what he’d put you through. It didn’t change the fact that he was crying in on his sofa all alone, wishing he could change things. He only had himself to blame now that you were gone, and knew when he saw you in the Red Bull garage again you’d do everything to ignore him. He stared at the ceiling until he got snapped out of his thoughts by a notification on his phone. A text from you. 

“You won’t have to deal with being around me and fighting your internal feelings anymore. I just gave up my Red Bull seat to Checo. I’m done with F1. I hope you continue to be successful in your career. Respectfully, I’m blocking your number after this. I don’t want to be around you anymore. It’s killing me every time we kiss to know we’ll never be anything more than casual. I need to move on.” He read the text and attempted to respond by telling you to wait before you blocked him. To give him the chance to fix it, but it was already too late. You blocked him as soon as you sent the message, he figured. Max hoped you would change your mind by the time he woke up tomorrow and he’d still get to see you at the next race in the Red Bull garage. He hoped he'd somehow get the chance to explain to you that everything the two of you did together meant everything and more to him. He tossed and turned in bed that night, feeling sick to his stomach/ The only reason Max even went to sleep was from how exhausted he was.  

What he didn’t expect was to open Instagram when he first woke up like he usually did and be greeted by a post stating that you were leaving Red Bull Racing, and Formula 1 in general.  “Red Bull Racing, Max Verstappen, thanks for being a great team for the past two years and Formula 1 for being some of the most fun I’ve had. I’m onto other things now, and I hope all the people who love and support me will follow me to my new career path. Checo, give them hell on the track for me. Love, your shining star, Y/N.” Tears stung Max’s eyes as he read the caption that was paired with some nostalgic pictures. Images of your first race, first podium and first win all shared with Max, and some other photos, old and new that evoked Max to cry.

Through his vision blurred by his tears, Max left a comment. “Thank you for being the best teammate I’ve ever had. If you ever need anything, you know where to find me. I’ll be rooting for you in whatever you choose to do with your future.” He finished it off with a heart emoji. He turned his phone off and hoped for a notification from you that he knew he’d most likely never get.

[xcherryerim]

Chocolate Kisses

"Who can love you like I love you? This warm and yet distant sweet dream" - Underwater by Red Velvet

Mike Schmidt x gn!reader | word count: 2.3k

- SMUT ONE SHOT | MDNI | 18+ ONLY! -

Warning: oral sex (to reader, no genital specified), penetration, unprotected sex (wear condoms yall pls) , A lot of teasing, facial, porn with plot (also a bit of fluff)

Disclaimer: This is my first time writing penetration in a gender neutral aspect. If there is any mistakes let me know so I can go back and change it. Thank you!

Summary: After another failed date that makes you feel like you will never find love, you go to your best friend's place (Mike), searching for comfort, but he ends up showing you the love you’ve been craving (and also something big and thick). 

You gripped the steering wheel until your knuckles turned white, tears welling up in your eyes, struggling to keep yourself at bay as you drove through the dark streets. You couldn’t bear the thought of being alone right now and drowning in self-pity. You needed to be with someone who could understand, and that person was Mike.

Once you arrived, you wiped away the tears as if trying to hide your sadness and sorrow. You cried in front of Mike many times, even over small things like watching a sad movie. But he couldn’t handle seeing you cry because of heartbreak. You took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell. The quiet street made you even more nervous as you waited for Mike to answer. After a few moments, the door swung open, and the sight of him struck you in all his glory. His hair dripped with water from a recent shower, and the scent of minty shampoo wafted all over the air. The dreamy sight of him mesmerized you.

“Hey… Aren’t you supposed to be on another date today?” His raspy voice brought you back to your depressive reality. Mike’s head tilted as you tried hiding your puffy eyes behind your hair. You were praying he wouldn’t notice your pain, but your heart sank again when you saw the look of pity that flashed across his face.

“How do you think it went?”

He stepped aside, allowing you to enter his home, and closed the door behind you. “You know I’m always here to listen,” he says, leading you to the living room. “Why don’t you sit, and we can talk about it over hot chocolate?”

He disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later with two steaming mugs of the comforting drink. As you accepted the mug, he sat down next to you, his arm resting on your knee, as he gave you a reassuring smile.

“Just take your time and tell me what happened.”

You sipped the hot chocolate, the warmth from the drink and Mike’s pats on your knee spreading over you. “It was just like the others, Mike,” you began, tears welling up in your eyes again.

Mike sighs, staring off into space before he speaks. “I hate when you—“ he starts before his tone softens at the sight of your sad eyes. He searches for the right words as they catch in his throat.

“I don’t get why you keep trying,” he says, his voice quivering with concern and exasperation. “That’s all.”

Your eyes were already welling up with tears, but his words hit deep, and you could barely speak. “Mike—“ you choked out.

“No!” He shouted, clenching his fists and tightening his jaw. “I hate seeing you suffer over the same thing!” Mike’s anger flared, but his emotions weren’t directed at you. Instead, fear and frustration fueled him because of your suffering.

Mike can’t stand to see his friend, the person he loves, hurt by failed relationships repeatedly. He’s frustrated and angry, but most of all, he’s tired of seeing you devastated when things go wrong. Mike wants to protect you, but can’t.

“I’m sorry,” you utter, eyes filling with remorse and empathy as you look up at him. “You’re right. Maybe love isn’t for me.”

Mike’s heart broke into a million pieces as he heard those words. He couldn’t help but feel responsible like he had failed you somehow. As he sees you struggling to hold your tears, he whispers, gently cupping your face in the palms of his hands. “Don’t say that. You deserve love and you will find it when you least expect it.” You stare up at him, trying to believe him.

“I’m just so tired of the same thing happening, and I know you hate seeing me like this.” You try to hide your sorrow with a chuckle, but there is so much sadness behind the apology. “I feel so pathetic.”

Wanting nothing more than to relieve your agony, he reached out gently and wiped away the stray tear from your cheek. “You’re not pathetic, and you don’t have to go through this alone,” Mike voices with determination. “I’m here for you. Here for you, no matter what,” he murmurs, pulling away slightly. “And if you ever need a reminder of that,” Mike grins, “just look at me.”

“Mike— “you began, but he cut you off.

“I care about you more than I can express, and I want to be here for you,” he said. “I don’t want you to feel alone in this. And maybe, just maybe, I can be the person who makes you feel alive, happy, and loved.”

Mike pulled you close, his sturdy figure pressing against yours as his hands gripped your hips. The anticipation and tension of years of unspoken feelings and emotions make every touch more severe. As his lips crashed onto yours, you could hardly contain yourself with the rush of pleasure. The intensity of the kiss was almost too much to bear, but you found yourself wanting more when the two of you broke apart.

“Maybe it’s time to stop searching elsewhere and find what we both want,” he murmurs, almost as if he’s asking for permission.

You nodded, unable to form coherent words in response to his passionate kiss. “Yes,” you rasped out. “I want that too.”

Mike couldn’t help the sensual grin that spread across his face as he felt you nod. “Then let’s explore this together,” he whispered, leading you towards his bedroom. As you entered, he carefully undressed you, taking his time to appreciate every inch of your figure. His fingers traced the curves and lines, making you shiver with satisfaction, your moans growing shallow with each brush.

Mike knew exactly how to drive you wild, teasing and pushing all your buttons until you couldn’t help but beg for more. Each caress became increasingly bolder and more assertive, leaving no part of you untouched. His fingers traced the delicate lines from your neck, down to your chest, across your stomach, and finally stopping at your pelvis. “You’re perfect,” he mumbled, his eyes drinking into every inch of you like a thirsty man finding an oasis

He stepped back, taking a moment to admire his handiwork. His gaze lingered on your curves, tracing the lines of his fingertips along your skin as if he were trying to commit them to memory. With a sudden, decisive movement, he pushed you down onto the bed, his weight pinning you in place. The suddenness of it sent a thrill of desire coursing all over you.

His lips traced a path from your collarbone to your breastbone, his teeth gently grazing your smooth skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You arched in response, crying softly as he continued his journey lower. His tongue danced over you, exploring every inch of your sensitive flesh, making the ache between your legs grow more insistent, demanding to be satiated.

As the tension built between you, Mike increased the pressure on you, eliciting grunts and pleasured gasps from you. You trembled under his skilled ministrations, and you found yourself lost in the sensual bliss he was creating. Your gasps, heavy and uneven, filled the room as you surrendered to the moment.

“Mike, please just fuck me already,” you implored, your fingers gripping his hair hard, a sign of the intensity of your desire. Mike whimpered softly, his eyes widening as he lifted his head to look at you.

“I know I am taking a long time, but I’ve been wanting this for years,” he whispered, his tone barely audible over your ragged breathing. You could feel the sincerity in his words, the depth of his desire for you. He released his grip on your thighs, his hands now tracing gentle, sensual patterns on you.

“Please, just let me take my time with you,” he pleaded, his eyes never leaving yours. “I want to make this as amazing for you as it is for me.” His words sent a shudder through you, and you nodded, unable to speak, your body asking for him to continue. Mike positioned your frame carefully, supporting your back with his chest and lifting your knees onto the soft mattress. He traced the head of his cock along your slick entrance, taunting and pleasuring you as he edged closer to penetration. His roughened fingertips grazed against your sensitive skin once again, each caress making a delicate dance of anticipation and desire.

As he finally pressed the tip of his erection into your opening, you arched your back instinctively. “Fuck,” you growl under your breath as the pain gave way to fulfillment.

Mike leaned closer, purring into your ear. “You can take it,” he assured you, his cozy voice sending a wave of excitement down your spine. His roughened fingertips traced patterns on you. After exploring your silhouette with delicate touches, Mike brought his hands to your chest, tracing circles around your nipples. His fingers playing around, exploring every inch of you, while his thumb was rubbing your swollen flesh in circular motions.

“If you keep making those sounds, I won’t be able to stop myself,” Mike declared. It seemed you were unaware of the delicate nature of his thrust, considering his massive presence and the way his skilled hands were sending pleasure down your entire being. You couldn’t resist the approaching climax, and yet, you yearned for even more of his touch.

“Harder, Mike, please.” You managed to say it in between whimpers.

His hips rocked forward, pushing his cock deeper into you. The sensation was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before—hot, thick, and demanding. Your form tensed up, bracing itself for the inevitable pain that followed, but it never came. Instead, a wave of intense gratification washed over you, making your entire being convulse in ecstasy as your bodies melded together like two pieces of a broken puzzle, finally fitting together perfectly.

As you felt yourself getting closer to the edge, you cried out his name. The sensation of him being inside you was overwhelming, making you beg for more. But instead of stopping or slowing down, Mike continued at the same pace.

“Yes, scream my name,” Mike growled, his grip tightening on your hips as he pounded into you relentlessly. The sound of your moans reverberated off the walls of the empty area, filling it with an erotic symphony. His thrusts grew more harsh, matching your rapidly escalating arousal. With each powerful slam, he pushed you to the edge, the air around you thick with the scent of sweat and desire.

Despite your intense climax, Mike persisted, his hips rocking fervently, driving deeper and deeper inside you. Your body convulsed under the overstimulation, your nails digging into the thin fabric of the bed, leaving small indentations behind. Your voice quivered as you implored for release, your form shaking with each plea, but he silenced you with a firm, possessive kiss on your neck.

“Just a bit more, please,” he begged, the scent of his desire intoxicating. His frame glistened with sweat, his muscles flexing with each powerful thrust, creating a symphony of sensations that filled the air. Mike started to mumble incoherent words, his face contorted in ecstasy as he fought to maintain control. It was clear he was nearing his climax. Mike’s words were lost amidst the primal sounds of passion, but you could feel the urgency in his tone, the desperation to find release. His build shook under the intensity of the moment, the muscles in his arms and back tense with exertion.

You could see the struggle in his face, the battle between his body and mind as he pushed himself closer to the edge. Mike’s ragged groans filled the space, while sweat glistened on him. At that moment, you knew he was about to lose himself, his form shaking with the force of his need. You felt his presence twitch inside you, each pulse an indication of his approaching end.

“Get on your knees,” he commanded. Even though your weakened figure struggled to obey he carefully lowered you to the floor, cradling you in his arms before setting you down. Your legs wobbled beneath you, but he held on to you tightly, his hands strong and reassuring.

His figure towered above yours, his arousal still erect and pulsing. He started to stroke himself in front of you, his whimpers soft but urgent as he cried out your name, lost in the haze of his desire. His release approached right after, covering your face and shape in a warm, sticky way. The sensation was overwhelming, a tangible reminder of the satisfaction he had given you.

Mike looked over at you, his eyes admiring the sight of your physique and glistening with his release. His own body trembled as he lowered himself to meet yours, still catching his breath. With a playful grin, he chuckled, “You know,” he utters, his tone low and sultry, “you look better like this.”

His fingers gently moved a piece of hair out of your face, framing it perfectly around your flushed cheeks. The look in his eyes was a mix of admiration and contentment as if he had found the perfect end to the night.

“Asshole,” you responded with a chuckle, returning his playful banter.

“I’m serious,” he insisted, his tone more serious. “I’ve known you for years, and you never looked better than right now.” A gentle kiss accompanied his confession on your forehead, his warm gasp brushing against your cheeks. Despite his teasing earlier, there was genuine admiration and affection in his voice. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling happiness wash over you.

“Let’s shower together,” Mike suggested, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m not responsible if we end up fucking in the shower, though,” he added playfully as he made his way toward the bathroom.

For the first time in years, you felt truly happy and loved, and it was all because of Mike. All those unspoken desires between each other were finally fulfilled. A sense of peace flooded over you, making you realize that this is where you belong—with Mike, who truly understood you on a deeper level.

Fin. Thank you so much for reading!

Should I write a pt.2 on the shower or what? >:)

If you only want to be updated on my smut works consider following @xxxcherryerim, I will be reposting my work there.

[starvin-darlin]

imagining alexis’ time after biting sam. imagining when she found out sam wanted nothing to do with her. and that william invoked her, severing her last connection to sam. she was furious. and hurt too. but she buried that underneath her fury. she decided to rebel against her maker. she obviously didn’t want to lose the power she gained from having such a high profile maker, so her rebellion began behind his back. doing things she knew he would disapprove of. she began to associate with the not so desirable side of vampire social life. seedy blood clubs where she learned the names of the vamps in charge on this side of town. the ones who declared themselves the leaders, who ruled not with respect, but with fear.

one night she stepped outside of one such club to grab some air, and enjoy a cigarette. the alleyway seemed empty, until she noticed a shaking figure beside one of the many dumpsters that lined the narrow space. a wolf, she could tell from the aura, though one that didn’t seem to have the irritating cockiness of the other wolves alexis had met in her time. this one seemed meek, timid, their body shivering from the cold in their revealing outfit. they were obviously having a bad night, but alexis turned her head away, as it was not her responsibility to fix their problems for them. she took a long drag of her cigarette and exhaled slowly.

“aren’t you gonna offer me one?” an unsteady but loud voice rang out from the wolf. ah there was the cockiness they had lacked before, alexis rolled her eyes and spun round to face them, high heels clacking as she walked closer. they kept their head hanging towards the ground. she took in their ripped tank top and too big jeans, the holes in the knees definitely not an intentional fashion decision. a wolf attending a blood club never meant a stable and well adjusted life. did they even know they were talking to the princess of the solaire clan?

“sorry. i don’t often lend cigarettes to dogs.” alexis laughed at her own joke.

they raised their head slowly until their eyes met hers. alexis was shocked to recognise them. this was the troublesome little wolf who followed quinn around like a lovesick puppy. everyone knew the rules: touch that wolf and quinn will make sure you won’t live to see another sunset. though, quinn’s protection of them didn’t seem impenetrable on this night, judging by the large amount of blood oozing from their neck.

she laughed once again. “wow. i bet quinn is off torturing whichever vamp was dumb enough to do that to you, i almost feel bad for them.”

surprisingly, tears filled the wolf’s once defiant eyes. alexis stopped laughing. she had strived to become ice cold in the years since her death, especially once her love of a man drove her to commit the very actions that denied her him forever, but she still couldn’t help but regret her words when the wolf looked so defeated by them.

“it was him. he … did this.” they stuttered out, clearly trying to prevent the tears from falling.

alexis tried to hide her shock. the wound on their neck didn’t look like a bite from a feed. the entire span of the left side of their neck looked like it had been chewed open. it was done to cause pain, and lots of it.

“i love him so much. and he does this?” their speech was slurred, either from alcohol or blood loss, alexis couldn’t tell which. she suspected the wolf wouldn’t be telling her this if they were in their right mind. “why can’t he just love me?!” their words had grown to a frustrated yell, after which they slumped back against the wall, clearly exhausted from aggravating their injuries.

their words stuck to alexis. she wished they didn’t. but they reminded her of herself. screaming in pain when she couldn’t feel the man she loved, the vampire she made, through the supposed maker progeny bond. screaming as she realised how her actions had been perceived, not as devotion but as malice. screaming as she understood she would never get to have her sam ever again.

she lit another cigarette and handed it to the wolf, who was still slumped against the alley wall.

“you should leave him.”

they took the cigarette from her manicured fingers. “huh?” they choked out, before taking a long inhale.

“quinn. he’s never going to love you. and one day after you’ve done everything you can to be with him, he’ll drop you into the mud like you mean nothing to him.” alexis checked her watch, she was running out of time to make it back to wonder world before sunrise. she finished her cigarette, dropped it and stamped it out with her heel.

“you’re wrong… he… he’s all i have.” the wolf whispered, more to themselves than to her. alexis began walking down the alleyway, away from the wolf and the unwelcome feelings they had churned up in alexis’ undead heart.

“then stay. die for all i care. but don’t say i didn’t warn you.” she called back at them, not waiting for a response.

the years passed, alexis stopped her rebellious blood club excursions, and she barely thought about the wolf again. only ever briefly, to wonder if they ever took her advice and escaped from the man who hurt them that night. one day, during a passive aggressive catch up with porter, she didn’t have to wonder anymore.

“didn’t you hear? your beloved progeny seems to have found a partner. remember that wolf that quinn used to drag around?”

[ameagrice]

Capsize

chapter twenty-seven | the dam thing

percy jackson x fem reader

Sadness was very, very tiring.

Your skin burned with the heat of the sun beating through the truck window, sitting with your knees to your chest. Percy and Grover had chosen to sit in the tow wench part of the stolen truck Thalia drove, while you sat up front with Zoe and Thalia.

You couldn’t take your eyes off the junkyard as Thalia drove, watching it get further and further away. She didn’t seem as bothered as you or Percy, or even Grover, like the death of Bianca hadn’t affected her even a little bit.

The boys’ voices flowed through the back and into the front, mumbling that you were unable to understand. You looked down at your hands; the tiny figurine that cost Bianca her life lay in your palms. Ironically, the one Nico didn’t have was Hades, the god of death. The dark hair, and the stony face he wore gave away which god he was.

Something settled on your chest. What were you supposed to say to Nico? What were you going to tell Chiron when you went back to camp? You’d made a plan—an awful one—that sent Bianca straight to her death. They’d hate you. Everyone would hate you.

In the back of your mind, you thought maybe it wasn’t your fault. Yes, you had the idea, but it was an idea you’d been intending to put to use yourself. You hadn’t forced Bianca to carry it out. You hadn’t even told her to go ahead with it. In retrospect, it hadn’t been your fault.

But you carried the guilt anyway.

Annabeth was right, Maybe you were claimed by the wrong goddess. You certainly weren’t smart by any means if you’d gotten a friend killed. And it wasn’t the first time you’d put Bianca in danger—your stunt at Westover had nearly sent you all plummeting to your deaths off the edge of a cliff.

“You think too hard,” said Zoe beside you.

You looked up. She was pale in the face, and looking out at the road ahead. “What?”

“It was not your fault. Do not think it was.”

Thalia glanced over. You swallowed hard, throat closing up.

“But it was,” you objected. “I had the plan. I was going to do what Bianca did. If anyone should be dead, it should be me.”

Zoe looked completely outraged. “Don’t say that. What happened to Bianca is terrible, but that does not mean you should have taken her place. It is as the prophecy decided. We could not control her actions or her decisions.”

That doesn’t make it any better, you thought.

The truck ran out of gas just as you approached a dead-end street, much to Thalia’s irritation. You all jumped out, Thalia slamming the door shut. One of the tyres burst immediately and began letting air out.

“Great,” she said. “What now?”

There wasn’t much to see or say about the area. Desert in every direction, barren mountains everywhere. The canyon in the distance was the only interesting thing, and a small river flowing down the middle.

“There’s a path,” Grover said. “We could get to the river.”

You squinted in the light. Very faintly you made out the outline of a small path winding down the cliff side.

“That’s a goat path,” said Percy.

Grover turned to him. “So?”

“So the rest of aren’t goats.”

“We can make it,” goat-boy assured. “I’m sure of it.”

A beat of silence caused you to look at Percy. He looked worn out, and a little tired, but determined. “No,” he said. “We’ll go farther upstream.”

“But—” Grover frowned.

“Come on, a walk won’t hurt us.” He looked at Thalia, and she held his stare for a second. You looked between them both; what was that about?

You shook it off, and let the others go up ahead. The quiet might do you some good, you felt—it gave you time to think things through.

Percy didn’t feel the same, clearly.

He looked back at you, slowing until he was at the back with you. You spared him a glance, focusing on the hills ahead of you. Not too far now.

“You okay?” He asked quietly.

You hummed. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Percy shrugged his shoulders briefly. “I don’t know. You’re just quiet.”

“I’m tired, Percy,” you sighed. “I want to go home, now.”

You turned your head, to find him already looking at you. The blood rushed to your face, and you looked away. But…you couldn’t not look at Percy for too long. So you glanced back. Those bright green eyes flickered across your face and eyes, and you paid attention to the way his hair was a little sweaty and more tamed than it usually would be.

“I was thinking,” he said. “Did you want to stay over this summer? At my place? My mom wants to meet you. And it would be fun. We could get, like, takeout and stuff.”

You blinked. A little bit of sunshine made a hole in the dark, and your mouth quirked. “Sure, it’d be fun.�� Was all you could think to say.

Percy’s expression faltered an inch, barely noticeable if you hadn’t grown used to the emotions he wore on his sleeve. He nodded once, and his smile was tight.

You wanted to invite Percy over to your place in return. You imagined running down the beaches with him, entirely in his element, and showing him a cove you had discovered one day, the path memorised. But you had left things unsettled at home, and the very thought of going back was too much at the moment, anxiousness spiking your veins.

The rest of the walk, you trained your eyes on the ground, following the river’s dips and splashes. It made the walk go by faster, and when you looked up, almost walking into Thalia. You were about to voice your question, when you sets your sights on the locked-up cabin with a canoe sale sign up outside the front shutters. The ground gently sloped, and the water ran more fiercely along.

Percy turned to you. In the middle of the desert, his eyes shone like stars. “You got a pen and paper?”

Of course you did.

Percy left a stack of drachmas on the countertop outside, and a ragged note beneath them: I O U 3 canoes.

“We need to go upstream,” Zoe said. She sounded like she was suffering from a terrible cold. “The rapids are too swift.”

“Leave that to me,” Percy decided. Nobody questioned him.

You quickly discussed who had which canoe—Percy and Zoe (you’d nearly argued over that one), Thalia and yourself, and Grover in his own.

Once, you never would have had a clue about canoes or rapids or how to get into one without tipping over. But camp had prepared you well, and there wasn’t much fuss getting in them. You held the canoe to the shore with the ore and…was something moving under it?

“Hey, Percy,” you turned your head, looking to him. But he spoke quietly with Zoe, so you left it.

You all got ready (and by ready, you meant, you argued with Thalia for the front seat, and won).

You found you weren’t actually going stir-crazy.

The canoes were pushed forward so forcefully you almost fell out of it, actually laughing when all you could see of Grover were his hooves in the air. When you recovered, you took a peek over the edge and into the water, looking past your reflection: naiads.

You knew what it was before you even saw it fully. After a while, the large monument before you came into view.

“Hoover Dam,” you voiced. “Built in the 1930’s.”

“It’s huge,” Thalia awed.

The naiads stopped pushing, and everyone climbed out onto the river’s edge. When the naiads swam away, the canoes gently floated back downstream, pushed by the current.

You stood together, looking up.

“Seven hundred feet tall,” Percy commented.

“Five million cubic acres of water,” Thalia hummed.

“Largest construction project in the United States,” Grover sighed.

Zoe looked at you all like you were crazy. “How do you know all that?”

“Annabeth,” Grover tilted his head.

“She was crazy over architecture. Gods, try getting some sleep in the same cabin as her.”

“Spouted facts all the time,” Thalia said. “Annoying as hell.”

“I wish she were here,” Percy said.

You didn’t have it in you to be annoyed. Because you felt the same way. In a sense, it felt like a mean joke from the world—you’d stopped in one of Annabeth’s dream locations, and she wasn’t able to see it.

“We should go up there.” Percy said. “For her sake. Just to say we’ve been.”

“We don’t have a great track record with heights.”

Percy just grinned.

“You are mad,” said Zoe. “But that is where the road is. And so, sightseeing it is.”

—

“It’s cold,” you sang. “It’s cold and windy and why are we just standing here?” You pivoted to Zoe, flaying your hands. You side-eyed Grover; he sniffed the air, shifted uncomfortably. “I mean, clearly monsters are coming.”

“How close are they?” Percy asked.

Grover shook his curly head. “Maybe not close…the wind from the dam, and the desert all around…scent could probably travel for miles. But it’s coming from almost everywhere. I don’t like it.”

“There’s a snack bar in the visitor centre,” said Thalia.

Percy’s eyebrows knit together. “You’ve come here before?”

“Once, to see the guardians,” she pointed across the dam, where carved into the cliff were two big statues. In the back of your mind, something felt familiar, maybe something you’d learned in school. “They were dedicated to Zeus when the dam was built; a gift from Athena.”

Tourists were clustered around the statues, seemingly looking at…their feet?

“What are they doing?” You asked.

“Rubbing the toes.”

You gagged.

“They think it brings good luck,” Thalia said.

“Why?”

She shrugged. “Mortals get crazy ideas. They don’t know the statues are sacred to Zeus, but they know there’s something special about them.”

Percy hummed. “When you were here last, did they talk to you or anything?”

Thalia’s expression darkened. “No. They don’t do anything. They’re just statues.”

Just statues brought a hot flame to your heart. Once again, you were reminded of Bianca. How you wished that one had been just a statue.

“Let us find the dam snack bar,” Zoe interrupted your saddening thoughts. You raised your head, blinking away the cloud cover.

Grover cracked a smile. “The dam snack bar?”

Zoe blinked innocently. “Yes. What is so funny?”

“Nothing,” he tried to keep a straight face. “I could use some dam French fries.”

Even Thalia smiled. “I could use the dam restroom.”

Percy snickered. And you broke, showing a smile. Eye contact with Grover proved to be a bad idea—you both broke out laughing.

Zoe just looked between everyone. “I do not understand.”

“I want to use the dam water fountain,” you wiped your eyes, still laughing.

“And,” Thalia tried catching her breath. “I want to…buy a dam t-shirt.”

Percy burst out laughing, setting you off. Zoe was not amused; her face was stoic, if not a little annoyed. You opened your mouth to make a joke, and then—

“Did anyone else just hear a cow?” Percy had stopped laughing.

You snickered, finding humour in the weird situation.

“A dam cow?” Thalia laughed.

“No,” said Grover, seriously. “I heard it too.”

Zoe listened. “I hear nothing.”

“Percy, are you okay?” You asked. Was it heat stroke? Or maybe he was overtired? “There’s definitely no cows about, man.”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Just…you guys go ahead,” he said.

“What’s wrong?” Grover prodded.

“Nothing,” he shook his head. “I just need a minute. I need a minute to think.”

Zoe, Thalia and Grover headed off towards the visitor centre, and you were about to follow after them. But Percy looked…a little too confused for you to be happy leaving him on his own, especially hearing cows that weren’t there.

You trailed after him. Percy leaned on the rail that overlooked the water.

You came up beside him. “Do you want some water?”

Looking down at the water, Percy’s hand reached out and snaked around your arm, pulling you closer. Your eyes widened, but you didn’t resist.

“What—”

You followed his gaze downward, and couldn’t believe what you were seeing.

“Is that—”

Percy nodded. “Bessie.”

“Bessie?”

“Bessie the cow serpent.”

You looked at your friend. Your slightly stir-crazy friend. “That explains it all.”

Percy’s bring eyes practically shone looking at the sea creature. “What are you doing here? How did you get up here?”

A quick glance around showed nobody else could see this Bessie. Either that or they were all hoping it would go away if they avoided eye contact.

Bessie swam in a circle, long tail swishing, before bashing its head on the wall of the dam. “Mooooo!”

It was as if you were in a weird dream, quite frankly. A cow-sea-creature nobody but yourselves could see. But in this whole strange world of demigods and gods and monsters, was anything a real shock anymore?

But after the day you’d had so far, and Bianca’s passing, everyone felt like a big, fat joke on you.

“I can’t!” Percy exclaimed. “I’m with my friends!”

Bessie have an urgent moo, and dove underwater, swimming away.

Percy raised his head, green eyes meeting yours, and you hesitated on saying something. A weird chill settled on your spine, as if to say watch your back. You looked behind Percy, and froze. Two tall men in grey camouflage covered flickering skeletal bodies. And they were heading right for you.

“Gotta go,” you snatched up Percy’s hand. “Let’s go!”

You ran as fast as your legs would take you, lungs burning, toward the visitor’s centre. Percy skidded to a stop beside you as you slowed to fit through the entryway, and you didn’t have the time to pay attention to what it was he was looking at behind you. You bolted down the stairs, security yelling for you to slow down, but you paid them no heed. Your friends had no idea what was going on, and like hell would you let a repeat of what happened to Bianca happen.

Percy called your name behind you. “Wait up!” He yelled. “Slow down!”

“Like we have the time!” You called back, not caring if he heard. The ding of an elevator caught your attention. To your left, a group of tourists waited with a guide, and you took your chance, running across to it.

Just as you slid inside, Percy slid in behind you, and the doors closed with a ding. A few people looked your way, as you heaved for breath.

“We’ll be going down seven hundred feet!” The tour guide said cheerfully. Her dark hair was tied up in a long ponytail, and dark shades covered her eyes. “Don’t worry, ladies and gentlemen! The elevator hardly ever breaks!”

You could have rolled your eyes. Hardly ever—chances were, with your luck, the hardly ever part would happen to you.

“Does this go to the snack bar?” Percy asked behind you. A couple of people laughed. The tour guide looked your way, and shivers ran down your spine; you wished Percy had just kept his mouth shut. Your gut twisted.

“To the turbines, young man. Weren’t you listening to my interesting presentation upstairs?”

“Oh, uh, sure. Is there another way out of the dam?”

“It’s a dead end,” said an irritated-sounding tourist behind. You had half a mind to look them up and down for good measure, but refrained. “The only way out is the other elevator.”

With a ding, the elevator doors opened.

“Go right ahead,” the tour guide said. “Another ranger is waiting for you at the end of the corridor.”

You moved quickly, trying to get out of the small space.

“Young man!” The tour guide called. Percy gripped your arm. You turned back.

She’d taken off her sunglasses, twirling them in her hand, and you blanched. Her eyes were a startling grey. Just like yours. Just like Annabeth’s.

Something tugged in your stomach.

And something felt oddly familiar about this guide.

“There is always a way out for those clever enough to find it.”

She looked at you. She winked, the corner of her mouth curved in a sly smile just the way yours did.

Just the way yours did.

You blinked. Before you could give any thought to what just happened, the elevator doors closed, and the only sound you could focus on was the sound of skeleton chattering.

With Percy still attached to your arm, you ran after the tour group, through a weird-looking tunnel made of jagged stone that seemed to go on forever. The air was humid and hot, and when you came out the other end, fifty-feet below you were enormous wind turbines. It was almost enough to send you dizzy.

By this point, you slowed, and allowed yourself to think. You’d gotten here on spontaneous thoughts, but where did you go from here? Considering your line of bad experiences with your own ideas, maybe it was best to sit this part out, the part full of action, and let Percy take the lead. Playing hero wasn’t going so well, for you.

You looked around in a circle, almost feeling desperately lost, as if your body told you let someone else take over. Preferably, an adult. Someone to take this burden from you all. Because, at last, this quest was wearing you thin, and the lingering question and unease surrounding what happened to Bianca would simply not let up on you.

All you wanted now, was to go back to camp.

Percy, at your side, shoulders slumped, sighed. He span his sword, disguised as a pen, between his fingers. You turned to him.

“Look,” you breathed. “I think—”

Percy’s eyes shifted to behind you, and widened. You barely saw the quick sweep of his arm pushing you out of the way before you felt it, staggering aside.

“H-hey—!”

The gleam of his sword caught your eye, as he swiped it straight down. Almost falling back, you turned to the victim of his harsh death.

Except the girl wasn’t dead.

Just horrified.

And very human.

“What the hell?!” She screeched. “Do you always kill people when they open a packet of Kleenex?”

Both yourself and Percy could only blink at the girl, whose wild red hair danced in her eyes. She blew it away, huffing when it fell back.

“You’re human?” Percy frowned.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The girl pulled a face. “Of course I’m human. How did you get that sword through security?”

Your jaw almost dropped. “Ohhhh boy.”

“You can see this?”

The girl rolled her eyes. Her nose was red as if she’d been aggressively wiping it like she had a cold, and jeans with holes all over, like she’d gotten bored in class. The inner stylist in you cringed.

“Well, it’s either a sword or the biggest toothpick in the world,” she scoffed. “And why didn’t it hurt me. Not that I’m complaining. And woah, are you wearing lion fur?” She reached her hand out to Percy’s coat.

At Percy’s lack of words, you looked to him, going to prompt him to explain. But he stood like a fish, mouth agape, staring at this girl. Jealousy ran through your body, and your jaw clenched.

“It’s none of your business, really,” you huffed. The girl’s eyes rolled over to you like she was bored. “I mean, we gotta go anyway, so…”

Percy raised his hand suddenly and snapped his fingers in the girl’s face. She went cross-eyed looking at them. “You don’t see a sword,” he said. “It’s a ballpoint pen.”

She scrunched her nose. “Uh, no. I’m pretty sure it’s a sword.”

You almost wanted to sock Percy in the arm. “Bro, what are you doing? We need to go.”

“Who are you?” Percy ignored you.

“Rachel Elizabeth Dare. Now are you going to answer my questions or am I going to call for security?”

“Uh, miss Rachel Elizabeth Dare,” you imitated poorly. Her face was a picture at your words. “We really have places to be. Percy, we need to go.”

“You in a hurry or trouble?” Rachel asked.

“Hurry.”

“None of your business.”

Percy blinked at you, talking over one another. He sighed.

Rachel coughed a little too loudly for your nerves. You slowly turned to her, ready to give this random girl a piece of your mind. She grabbed your arm and pushed you along.

“Bathroom, now!”

You tripped on a wet floor sign, knocking it down on your way in. You landed on the slimy floor, complaining under your breath. Your own voice was too loud at this point, but something else caught your attention in the background.

The chattering of skeletons.

“Oh my god! Did you see those kids! They just ran at me with swords! I think they went that way towards the wind turbines! You better hurry!”

The chattering grew quieter, and then a knock on the door. “You’re good!”

You emerged back into the public. Rachel Elizabeth Dare looked shaken and slightly pale.

“All clear, but you better go.”

Down the way, skeletons were running in the direction Rachel sent them.

“We owe you, Rachel,” Percy breathed.

“What are those things?”

“The skeletons?”

Rachel nodded uneasily.

“Do yourself a favor,” Percy replied grimly. “Forget it all. Forget you ever met us.”

“Forget you tried to kill me?”

“That too,” you quipped. Rachel side-eyed you. You looked her up and down.

“But who are you?” The question was, very obviously pointed at Percy.

“Percy—gotta go.”

Warmth wrapped your wrist, and pulled you along. Behind you both, Rachel Elizabeth Dare was whining. “What sort of name is Percy Gotta-Go?”

The cafe was packed with kids shouting and crying, and your heart felt about to burst from the run down here. You scanned the room. In the middle, at a round table, Thalia, Grover and Zoe sat with their food.

You ran over, a gross and sweaty mess, panting. You slammed your hands on the table so hard their trays shook. “We—gotta—go,” you heaved.

“But we just got our burritos!” Thalia said.

Zoe looked around. “No. She’s right. Let’s go.”

The cafe wrapped around the dam, giving your friends a good view of the skeletons that had come to kill you. And all of them were armed with batons and pistons. The more urgent problem now, though—the skeletons Rachel had spotted were making their way over. They began to advance.

“Elevator!” Grover gasped.

You all ran for your lives, and skidded to a stop as the elevator arrived on your level with a ding! You scrambled back, almost tripping on someone’s toes as more skeletons came out. You were completely surrounded.

And then…Grover’s brilliant mind surfaced a brilliant plan.

“Good fight!” He screamed.

And launched his burrito right at a skeleton’s face. His skull fell off his shoulders with a clatter, like he’d been taken out by a grenade and not a burrito.

It didn’t take very long for Grover’s plan to take off. Kids began throwing their food this way and that, and you couldn’t even be mad at the soda and chips in your hair because the skeletons couldn’t aim their guns, and you were soon just blurry faces in a raging crowd.

“Four against eleven. What now?”

“It’s been nice going with you guys,” Grover trembled.

“Woah, their toes are really bright?”

“Percy, that’s really weird.”

“Thalia, pray to your dad.”

Said girl glared at your best friend. “He never answers.”

“Just this once. Please just try!”

“No! He won’t answer me!”

“This time is different!”

“Says who?!”

Percy hesitated. “Athena—” your head snapped to him. “I think.”

Thalia scowled.

“Try it!” Grover begged.

Thalia closed her eyes, sighing visibly. Her mouth moved in silent prayer, and you gave thought to what Percy said.

The grey eyes. That weird feeling in your stomach. And the same smile…

Things like that couldn’t be just a coincidence, could they? And after how you had felt all day…was it weird to hope your mom might be giving you guidance?

You tried it too.

Mom. Please, if you can hear me, give us some guidance. Show us what to do. I can’t anymore.

The skeletons closed in, and so did your chest. It pulled tight in a way you had never felt before…was this impending doom?

You dug for your dagger and held it tight in your fist. Percy clutched his sword closer.

Just as you thought your heart was giving out, a shadow fell over you. In slight fear, you tilted back your head, mouth agape. Above you, stood the very statues you set your sights on earlier. The bronze angels. Bullets pinged off their wings like rain on a metal roof. Both angels swept their giant arms like bats, and the skeletons went flying.

“Man, it feels good to stand up!” One said. His voice sounded tinny.

“Will ya look at my toes?” The other said. “What we’re those tourists thinkin’?”

“Get us out of here!” Thalia yelled.

Both angels looked down at her. “Zeus’s kid?”

“Yes!”

“Could I get a please, Miss Zeus’s Kid?”

“Please get us out of here!”

The angels shrugged to one another. “Could give my wings a stretch?”

Next thing you knew, one swept up Percy and Thalia, the other Grover and Zoe, and before you could get left behind, you leapt for one’s wing, shoes scuffling as you pulled your way up to its shoulder.

And then you flew straight up, over the dam, away from the river and the trouble.

—

“Tell me when it’s over!” Thalia said from your left. A timid peak behind the angel’s head showed you Thalia with her eyes squeezed shut, holding on for dear life.

Not that you could blame her. This high up, with nothing to properly hold on to, you were feeling a little worried, too. You’d situated yourself just in the crook of the angel’s neck, on his shoulder, holding on to his ear of all things. Your arms were starting to go a little dead, but you weren’t taking any chances.

“Are we…high?” She asked.

Percy kicked his foot off the edge of the mountain below and shook his head. “Nah, not really.”

It depends who you asked. Even this high was enough for you.

“We are in the Sierras!” Zoe yelled from the other angel. “I have hunted here before. At this speed, we should be in San Francisco in a few hours!”

News which both delighted you and twisted your guts. You would either find your sister alive and well in a state you’d never forget.

“Hey, hey, Frisco!” The other angel yelled. “Yo, chuck, we should visit those other guys at the Mechanics Monument again! They know how to party!”

“Oh, man, I am so there!”

“You’ve visited San Francisco?” You raised a brow.

“We automatons gotta have some fun once in a while, right?” Yours said. “Those Mechanics took us over to the de Young Museum and introduced us to these marble ladies, and see—”

“Alright!” You exclaimed. “Feel free to stop there.”

“Hank!” The other angel, Chuck, laughed. “They’re kids, man.”

“Oh, right. Back to flying.”

They sped up. The snowy mountains fell away soon enough and transformed into farmland and roads, and then the city.

It turned quiet after a while. Thalia muttered to herself. Grover played his pipes quietly, and Zoe pegged a bullseye on ever my Target you passed.

“Hey.”

You looked down, with hesitancy. Percy was looking up.

“Sup?”

You pressed your lips together, thinking. “You think that was really my mom back there?”

He didn’t talk for a few seconds. “Maybe. I mean, I just…I had a feeling. But…”

Percy’s unsureness didn’t put yours off. Because the more you thought about it, the more you had a feeling you were right.

The angels landed on a ferry dock, once in San Francisco. You scared a homeless man, who ran off yelling about metal angels from mars.

Only when it was quiet and still, did you wonder what next?

You looked between your friends, all appearing as stuck as you.

What Percy said next struck you.

“Look, guys,” he said almost hesitantly. “I haven’t mentioned this before, but, uh, halfway down here, I had a dream. I talked to Apollo in it, and he said something about finding this monster.”

“What kind of monster?” Thalia eyeballed him.

“I’m not sure.” Percy shrugged. “He just said it would help us find our way. Nereus, I think he was called.”

“Nereus, eh?” Zoe pulled a disgusted face.

“The old man of the sea,” said Percy.

“You know him?” Asked Thalia.

“My mother was a sea goddess. Yes, I know him. Unfortunately he is very hard to find. Just follow the smell.”

You all strolled across the pier to a charity shop hosting cardboard boxes of free clothes for the homeless outside. You were confused as Zoe stopped outside of it and turned to face you all.

“Trust me,” she said, talking to Percy, who instantly pulled a mistrusting face, mouth curved unhappily. “Put these on.”

She dressed him in too-big pants, a ragged flannel shirt and shoes that made him look like an improvising clown, lost from the circus.

You couldn’t help the laugh that fell from your mouth at the sight of him. Even Grover was holding back a smile. Percy was not by any means impressed.

Zoe stepped back and looked him over, and then nodded, impressed. “A typical male vagrant.”

“Thanks a lot,” he grumbled. “Why am I doing this?”

“I told thee; to blend in.”

Zoe led the way down to the water-front. After a long time of her searching for something, she finally stopped, and turned to Percy. She pointed to a group of homeless guys huddled together with blankets.

“He will be down there somewhere,” she said. “He never veers far from the water. He likes to sun himself during the day.”

“How do I know which one is him?” Asked Percy. You nodded, looking at Zoe.

“Sneak up. Act homeless. You will know who he is. He…he smells different.”

“Great. And once I find him?”

“Grab him. And hold on. He will try anything to be rid of thee. Whatever he does, do not let go. Force him to tell thee about the monster.”

Ah. The monster, which nobody had mentioned to you. Just another punch to the chest.

“We’ve got your back,” said Thalia, reaching out and picking something off of Percy’s new—well, reused—shirt. She gagged. “On second thought, I don’t want your back. But we’ll be rooting for you.”

Percy huffed, looking the least happy you’d ever seen him. He turned to you, and offered a tight-mouthed smile. More of a grimace.

“Any advice?”

“I’ve stopped all that. It doesn’t seem to be getting us anywhere good. Just do you.”

The rest of you observed your friend as he wandered down the dock, looking lost and confused. Eventually, Percy left your line of sight, and you found a nice spot on the floor to rest a while.

A ruckus a few yards away caught your attention. You looked at Thalia, who hummed. Then her eyes went wide, and the shouts of anger turned into awe.

“Whoa!”

You turned, mouth agape, as a giant killer whale came burst out of the water and feet into the air. Percy gave you all a little wave, before plunging into the sea.

“Well. At least we know he’s fine.”

It wasn’t long before Percy wrestled the old man to the surface. Thalia tapped your arm. “Let’s go!”

“You got him!” Zoe yelled. The four of you sprinted down to Percy.

“You don’t have to sound so amazed,” he said.

Even from a foot away, the smell of gross seaweed and dried up something filled your nose. You wanted to gag. Nereus groaned. “Oh wonderful, an audience for my humiliation. The normal deal, I suppose? You’ll let me go if I answer your questions.”

“Sure,” you shrugged.

“Only one question per capture!”

Percy’s silence followed with his sigh. “Alright, Nereus. Tell me where to find this terrible monster that could bring an end to the gods. The one Artemis was hunting.”

“Oh, that’s too easy,” Nereus grinned evilly. “He’s right there!” Nereus pointed at the water by Percy’s feet.

“Where?”

“The deal is complete!”

With a plop, he turned into a goldfish and summersaulted into the sea.

“Wait!”

“Stop!” Thalia shoved forward. “What is that?”

“Mooooooo!”

You blinked. Maybe you weren’t insane at all. The serpent-cow swam around in the water, giving Percy the puppy dog eyes.

“Ah,” he grimaced. “Bessie, not now.”

“Moooo!”

“He says his name isn’t Bessie,” Grover said.

“You can understand her…I mean, him?”

Grover nodded. “It’s a very old form of animal language, but he says his name is Ophiotaurus.”

“The what?”

“It means serpent-bull in Greek.” Thalia said. “But what’s it doing here?”

“Moooo!”

“It says Percy is it’s protector.”

You scoffed, playfully. “Percy couldn’t protect a teddy bear.”

“Hey!”

“He’s running from bad people. He says they’re close.”

Thalia’s eyes practically bugged out of her head. “And you somehow forgot to mention this before?”

“Well, yeah.”

“I know this story!” Zoe said suddenly. She snapped her fingers. “From the War of the Titans. My father told me this tale thousands of years ago. This is the beast we are looking for.”

Your gaze dropped to the doe-eyed creature swimming in urgent circles. It mooed sadly. You eyed it sceptically.

“Bessie?” Percy’s tone of voice told you he had the same thought. “But…he’s too cute. He couldn’t destroy the world…”

“This is how we were wrong,” Zoe persuaded. “We had been expecting a great monster of terrible power. But the ophiotaurus can not harm the very way that other creatures do. He must be sacrificed.”

“I don’t think he likes the S-word,” Grover muttered.

Percy knelt, the damp ground around him soaking into his jeans and drying instantly. He reached out a hand, and scratched the creature’s head. “How could anyone hurt him? He’s harmless.”

Zoe nodded. “But there is power in killing innocence. Terrible power. The Fates ordained a prophecy eons ago, when this creature was born. They said that whoever killed the Ophiotaurus and sacrificed its entrails to fire would have the power to destroy the gods.”

“MMMMMM!”

“Um,” Grover said. “Maybe we could avoid talking about entrails, too.”

Thalia stared at the cow serpent with wonder. “The power to destroy the gods . . . how? I mean, what would happen?”

“No one knows,” Zoe said. “The first time, during the Titan war, the Ophiotaurus was in fact slain by a giant ally of the Titans, but thy father, Zeus, sent an eagle to snatch the entrails away before they could be tossed into the fire. It was a close call. Now, after three thousand years, the Ophiotaurus is reborn.”

Thalia sat down on the dock. She stretched out her hand. Bessie went right to her. Thalia placed her hand on his head. Bessie shivered.

“We have to protect him. If Luke gets hold of him…”

“Luke wouldn’t hesitate,” you said. You didn’t know him well, not the way Percy or Thalia did, but you knew that much. And, even if you didn’t, you could sense it. “The power to overthrow Olympus? That’s…that’s huge.”

“Yes.”

A hand clapped down on your shoulder. You pulled away, walking backward into Grover. Your heart thudded painfully.

There, before you, stood Dr. Thorn, eyes glinting menacingly.

“And it is a power you shall unleash.”

oh. my. gods. it’s quite literally been months. and I didn’t even finish this chapter. I just needed to get something out.

I’m so sorry for the absence.

taglist: @bl6o6dy @lilyevanswhore @embersparklz @rottenstyx @rory-cakes @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @marshmallow12435 @lantsovheiress @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol @twsssmlmaa @gayandfairycore @padsfirewhisky @emu281 @charlesswife @jessiegerl @crackerphobic20 @mata0-0mata @jccc1000 @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @nothankyou138

[definitelynotstable]

Camomile pt. 7 [Ghost x gn!Reader]

pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5, pt. 6, pt. 7, pt. 8, pt. 9, pt. 10

AN: Please lemme know if you are liking this series I'm desperate for reassurance and validation <3

Synopsis: You're no longer in the hands of the enemy but the memories still linger. Ghost helps you through a nightmare. Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: injuries, nightmares, torture, kinda graphic, non-con touching (men are creeps) Ghost x gn!Reader (callsign Rags): Hurt/comfort. Loads of fluff. Nightmare trope!

———

It was pitch black when you woke. You reached up to tug at the eye mask when a warm hand covered yours, pulling it gently over your head. Cobalt eyes met yours.

“Ghost.” You breathe. You missed him.

“The very same.” He replies with a gentle nod. Soap and Gaz have left and the Lieutenant has dragged a chair over to your bedside; barely leaving any room for his legs. He is leaning forwards, tattooed forearm resting on the rail and dangling near your thigh. He’s no longer in uniform or tactical gear; his mask replaced by a simple black balaclava. Suddenly you realise you have no idea where you are. He tilts his head, watching you as though he can see the thoughts running rampant behind your eyes.

“Where are we?” You ask, thankful your voice isn’t as scratchy as it was before. Ghost leans back a little but keeps his arms resting on the rail.

“A base somewhere in Europe, I’ve not really asked to be honest.”

You frown, “That’s unlike you.”

“Yeah well,” he laughs softly, though it isn’t a happy sound, “geography wasn’t quite the priority, was it, love?”

“Suppose not,” you mumble. His eyes soften and he reaches out to pat your knee.

“I’ll ask Price when I see ‘im. It’s somewhere nearby, though. Didn’t have enough time to RTB.”

You nod slowly, fingering one of the wires by your side. Ghost just watches, waiting for you to speak.

“No one’s told me anything.” You feel like a child being left out of adult discussions. “Haven’t even spoken to the doc, Price didn’t properly debrief me – even Soap and Gaz wouldn’t talk about it. What am I missing here?”

The Lieutenant knew it was coming. He’d waited to see you just for this reason. You needed rest, not intel.

Ghost sighs. “How about I get you a cuppa? Let’s start there.”

———

Broken ribs, cigarette burns, slight pneumonia, minor internal bleeding, a handful of lacerations – to name a few. Ghost had brought you your file and held your steaming mug of camomile while you flipped through.

“What’s this?” You ask, pointing to a thick black line, roughly drawn. “Why’s someone redacting my personal medical shit?”

“The same reason Price won’t debrief you yet – you need rest, Rags.” He swipes the file from your hands and before you can argue settles the steaming mug in your grasp instead. You glare at him as you try not to spill it, craning your neck to take a sip. Ghost shakes his head and wraps an arm behind your back, supporting your weight while he readjusts the pillows. You lean back, his hand lingering until it’s pressed between your warmth and the bed. He lowers himself back into the chair, his hands wrapped around his own mug.

“That isn’t fair.” You finally say, too tired to argue but not willing to let the subject drop. “I have the right to know.”

Ghost takes a long sip before replying. “You do.”

“Then why–“

–“Because it’s a lot.” He says, cobalt eyes firm as they hold your gaze. “It’s a lot and you aren’t well yet. You can barely sit up on your own and can’t stay awake for more than a couple of hours. Please trust me, you’ll know in time.”

“But I want to know now,” your mumble, looking down as tears prickle against your will. The Lieutenants eyes soften.

“I know you do.”

“I just don’t like not knowing things.” A tear escapes. You swipe at it angrily.

“I know you don’t.”

“I just –“

–“I know.” He nods, wrapping a hand around your wrist, sliding it up to your forearm and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Your lip is wobbling now but Ghost doesn’t move. His thumb swiping over the soft part of your wrist. Back and forth.

“I know, Rags.”

And you get the feeling that he does. He doesn’t talk much about his past but you can recall a few months ago when a mission went awry and you walked in on Gaz stitching him up – shirt rolled to hang loosely around his neck. Scars weren’t abnormal for soldiers, but the markings were repetitive and consistent. Corporal punishment. Something you were all too familiar with as of late.

The Lieutenant doesn’t stop. Gentle and slow. Letting you know you were with him and you were safe. He watches as you fight the sleep weighing heavily on your eyelids.

And when your eyes fall shut and your breathing deepens he still stays.

———

“Ah, дорогая,” a voice whispers menacingly in your ear. Fingers stroke down your cheek, your chest and down over your navel. Your stomach muscles ripple and flinch away on impulse. The chain rattles as you lean away from his touch. His grin widens, yellow teeth glinting.

“Ready to talk?”

You clench your teeth; jaw locked and tongue pressed to the roof of your mouth.

“Still not talking, дорогая?” He’s rougher now, hand coming to grasp your throat, the squeeze a warning.

“I have nothing to say.” You spit out, swallowing against his hand. He chuckles.

“So feisty.” He shakes his head, patting your cheek roughly. “It won’t last. You’ll be screaming soon. I’ve always found the screams of women far more satisfying than men.”

The smell of burnt flesh wafts up to your nose and you look down. He’s holding a lighter against your bare torso. Why can’t you feel it? You watch as your flesh melts away into a gaping trench; your eyes watering at the stench. Blood bubbles and boils around the edges. The pain hits you in a wave, bursting and overflowing. The damn breaks and a scream rips from your throat. He laughs then, tipping his head back as he watches you writhe.

“Rags!” Hands shake you roughly, wrapping around your shoulders. You try to shake them off but they refuse to let go.

“Rags!”

Your eyes snap oven, hair sticks to your sweat covered face and you fight the hands holding you still.

“No, no, no, please!” You can’t help but cry, twisting in their grip. “Please.”

“Rags.” The voice is soft but firm. “Look at me.”

That voice. Where have you heard that voice?

You wrench your eyes open, tears pool and trickle down your cheeks. Cobalt blue stares back down at you, blond brows creased in concern.

“Rags? Are you with me?”

You’re gasping like a fish out of water. Chest heaving; breath ragged.

“G–Ghost?”

His mask has slipped down, lower than you’ve ever seen it. With a shaking hand you tug it back up. He catches your wrist, a finger circles and tickles your palm.

He nods, his other hand stretches out and gently brushes strand of hair away from your forehead. “S’alright. I’m here. You’re safe.”

You feel so tired. Rung out like a rag and set to dry in the wind. His hand has settled on your cheek. Cautious and gentle. “They took my camomile.” You whisper and Ghost tilts his head, confused.

“What do you mean?”

Your face crumples under his concerned gaze.The thoughts running through your mind are no longer logical. “The camomile I keep in my spare pocket – they took it.”

His thumb swipes under your eye, catching a tear. He frowns, “That’s ok, I’ve got some with me.”

Your chest heaves again and a sob slips from your mouth. “I was worried you wouldn’t have any left and Soap and Gaz only drink coffee – Price too.”

“Oh, darling.” He breathes, eyes sad as he strokes your jaw.

–“and you would have no-one to drink camomile with if I was gone.” You gasp, now clutching at his own wrist was you ramble. Your breathing is picking up again, a machine beeps more rapidly behind you.

Ghost’s face has crumpled completely as he watches you, unsure what to do. Your grip on him tightens, almost grasping the Lieutenant as though he will slip away.

“Would you like a hug?” He asks, throat constricting. He knows how hard it is to accept touch after experiencing the nonconsensual grip of the enemy. You nod frantically. It feels like you are falling apart at the seems and you need him to hold you while you sew yourself back together.

Slowly – making sure his hands are always in your line of sight – Ghost collapses the bedrail and slips in beside you.

“Show me where I can put my hands, love.” He murmurs in your ear and with shaking hands you guide his arms around you. You settle against his broad chest, your breathing slowly syncing with his own.

“Thank you.” The words so quiet he can barely hear it. He tucks you in closer, resting his chin against the top of your head.

“This ok?” He mumbles into your hair. You nod gently against him.

“Stay?”

“No place I’d rather be.”

— — —

Masterlist

Next Part:

[buckwheeler]

he touched the part where the metal was bent

“Hey, are you awake?”

The whisper is a soft, quick thing. It wakes him like a gasp. All at once. He springs to waking. He springs awake so scared that he cannot move. He cannot open his eyes. He doesn’t move a muscle.

He doesn’t have to look to know she’s there. The violence of his waking leaves no room to wonder if he’s dreaming. He knows he’s awake like he knows she’s there. 

He doesn’t speak aloud, so as not to wake Eddie. Sleeping Eddie, who’s lower back he can feel pressed to his own. He’s warm, Eddie. Buck feels the warm press of his skin through both their t shirts. Warm from all that warm blood running under his skin. Warm and living.

“I’m awake.” Buck says, not out loud. 

“Open your eyes,” she says. Buck feels the gentle breath of her against his cheek. 

“Do I have to?” He whispers, with his mouth closed. He feels the soft huff of her laughing.

“Just open them,” she insists. Softly, but insisting. He’s frightened. He hears her mouth tilting in a kind of smirk. And when he opens his eyes, he sees it too.

Her face is lovely. Beautiful and dear. She’s lying right in front of him. Too close to see if she were really there. Nose to nose. She’s got her hands folded over each other underneath her cheek, atop his pillow. Sharing their side of the bed. 

“Hello Shannon,” he sighs. 

“Hello Buck,” she says. 

She’s still got that little smile on her face, so. He supposes she’s not too angry. Still.

“Are you here to haunt me?” He asks. Her nose scrunches, and she twitches with a silent little laugh. She pushes up onto her forearm and tilts her head from side to side. “A little bit?” He guesses.

“We’ll see,” she says. Then she brings a hand up to rub at her neck, a wince. Buck feels it in his own tendon, the twinge. A sharp, pulsing ache. The catch of it. Of something really wrong. 

“It hurts,” He says, gazing up at her now. She turns towards the window opposite the bed. The moon kisses her at an angle. 

“Yep,” she sighs. Turns back to him. She shifts her head slowly. It passes. “Can we sit in the garden?” She asks. Buck is surprised to be asked, not told.

He sits up slowly, carefully. Eddie doesn’t stir, but Buck pauses still, once he’s risen. Checks the tender shape of him. 

“Oh don’t worry about Eddie,” Shannon teases, tilting to nudge their shoulders together, her voice still a whisper. “He sleeps like the dead these days.” 

Buck turns back to her. She raises her eyebrows. He relents, a breathy laugh. “Don’t you want to stop in on Christopher first?” He asks.

Shannon shakes her head gently. Her soft brown hair shakes with it. She’s a total shampoo commercial. “Let’s go to the garden first,” she says. Buck’s in no position to deny her. And wouldn’t. Couldn’t, deny her. So they do. 

“Are you frightened still?” Shannon asks, when they’re settled on the swing bench. Shannon has her knees tucked up under her chin, and Buck has one heel planted on the ground, nudging just slightly, his other foot tucked under his thigh. Buck gets a feeling, a flash, of them sitting just like this, this position, a thousand times. But then it goes away.

“I wasn’t frightened,” Buck defends. They aren’t whispering, anymore, but still hushed. 

“Of course you were,” Shannon teases. “Just a little bit.” She leans her head back until it rests on the ageing wood. Rolls it back and forth lightly and then all the way to face him again, and smirk. 

“A little bit,” Buck concedes. 

“Well, that’s right,” she says. “I’d be worried if you weren’t.”

They smile at each other. The night is quiet, and still. Just this soft breeze. And the light from the kitchen window illuminating the lawn. 

Shannon turns to the little circle of paving at the other end of the garden. “Oh god,” She groans. “I can’t believe you’ve still got those awful patio chairs.” 

Buck snorts. “Well, no one ever sits on them anyway.” 

Shannon bats his shoulder- which, of course, doesn’t feel like anything. “That’s because they’re so terrible! Barely held together. I’m surprised no one’s hurt themself. God, they’re so uncomfortable and so ugly. Take them to the dump!”

“I think I just don’t even see them anymore, they’re such a fixture,” Buck says. 

“I bet you don’t,” Shannon shakes her head. “I bet you never clean them, either.” 

“Nope,” Buck concedes. She shakes her head again, and hits his arm again. She keeps looking around. She looks at every corner. 

“Have you been gardening? Or is that Eddie?” She asks, pointing at the lacklustre vegetable patch. It’s spirited in its variety but unfortunately not thriving. Yet. 

“That’s me and Chris. We over-planted, I think. We’re gonna get back to work on it when vacation starts.” 

Shannon nods. It catches, again, sharp, and she pauses to massage her shoulder. Rolls her head slowly, ear to shoulder on one side and then the next. 

“Does anywhere else hurt?” Buck asks. 

“No,” she says. “I can’t feel anywhere else.” She brings her feet down to the ground and gives them a little push. “Small mercies.” 

Buck matches her rhythm, pushing lightly. Feels the wind whip so slightly by them, just brushing its fingers through his hair. Shannon stops them, a little abruptly. 

“Does he still like dinosaurs?” She asks, whispers it. Buck follows her line of sight to Christopher’s dark bedroom window, the drawn blinds. No glow of a night light. 

“Not really,” Buck says, whispers too.

Shannon nods. She pulls her knees back to her chest and hugs them, rests her cheek against her arm. Buck is struck by how young she looks. He forgets, sometimes. How she was barely twenty six. Had barely even started. 

“That makes sense,” Shannon says. “It’s. A lot of little boys like dinosaurs, don’t they?” 

Buck nods. “We even donated his figurine collection. It was a huge box. Me and Eddie were so emotional but Chris didn’t give a shit,” Buck laughs. Shannon laughs too. 

“What does he like then?” She asks. She’s very still. 

Buck hums. “Video games. His friends. They all play together online. He likes English and Art, at school. And Science. And he’s started getting into movies in a big way. He likes updating his Letterboxed.” 

“What is that?” Shannon asks. “His Letterboxed?”

“Oh, sorry, it’s. A website. It’s like goodreads for movies.”

“Ah,” Shannon nods. “That’s a good idea.” 

“Yeah.” 

Buck shivers a little bit. “You wanna go in yet?” 

“Not yet,” Shannon says. She pats Bucks leg twice and gets to her feet. “Let’s go to the front yard.” 

“Do you hate me, a bit?” Buck asks. When they stop, at the end of the path, at the mailbox. “Or. Resent me? Or-“

“No,” Shannon says. She tilts towards him, arms crossed. Like telling a secret. “The other thing,” she says. 

“Oh,” Buck says. He grins. “Not a vengeful haunting, then?” 

“Not this time. I considered it but. Lot of work, isn’t it?” 

“I see. Well, very generous of you.” 

“No,” Shannon laughs. “I mean it. Even if I’d lived. You’re meant to be part of it.” She gestures at the house. 

It’s too lovely to dwell on. The world without accident. Where the four of them share family dinner. Maybe some faceless future partner of Sharon’s, too. Vacations. Christmas. Meetings with Chris’ teachers. Maybe step-siblings. Extra grandparents and cousins. All front row if Chris tries out for the school play like he’s been considering. His mother, front row. 

“I barely got to know you. When you were alive. Like, only a handful of times.” 

Shannon shrugs. “I liked you.”

“I liked you too.” Buck says. “I feel like I know you a lot better than that. Through them.”

“Of course. But that’s different.” 

“Yeah.” 

The moon hanging. The gutter where it’s bent a bit. The potted plants by the door. The chips in the pots. 

“We would have been friends,” Shannon says, with simple certainty. 

“Is it... Can you see that? All the other versions?” Buck asks. Shannon looks away, down the street.

“Not quite but. Something like that,” she says.

“Do they miss me?” She asks it like she’s trying to ask it plain but. It shakes, the smallest bit. 

“They miss you a lot.” 

“Were they. Did they get angry about me too, though?” She turns back to face him. 

Buck doesn’t hesitate long. “Yeah. They both felt angry. Short-changed, I think and. Angry at you. But Chris’ letter. That was really helpful for him.”

“Oh.” Shannon frowns. “His letter?” 

“The one you wrote before, um, you left. Eddie never gave it to Chris, while you were alive. Because he figured you’d come back. But. After you died. It was really helpful for him. For Chris.” 

“Oh,” Shannon says again. “That’s good.”

She wraps an arm over her chest, clutches her own shoulder. “I didn’t write one for Eddie,” she says.

“No,” Buck agrees. “He was. He really struggled. For a long time but. Therapy has helped a lot. He goes to a grief group.” 

Shannon nods. 

“And you must make him deliriously happy,” she says. 

“Well. Yeah,” Buck agrees. “Yeah. We take care of each other.”

Shannon nods again. 

“They know I loved them.” This isn’t a question. 

“Yeah. They know that.” 

“Is it. Do you guys ever talk about me? Or is it. Is it too…”

“We talk about you all the time. They love you. We. I love you. You’re always here.” He gestures at the house. He looks at Shannon again. Hugging herself.

“Are you?” He asks. “Are you always…” he gestures again. At the house.

She tilts her head from side to side. “Kind of. I mean. Yes, but also I’m…It’s. I couldn’t explain it to you.” 

“Right. Makes sense.” 

They share a smile. 

“What about Mac and Cheese?” She asks. 

“Yeah,” Buck says. “Still his favourite.”

“For his birthday?”

“Yep. All the corner bits.” 

Shannon grins. She takes a deep breath. 

“Okay. Let’s go see him now.” 

Buck opens the door carefully. The back of Chris’ precious head illuminated by the square of light let in from the hall. His hoodie thrown over his desk chair. A Dorito packet that didn’t quite make it to the bin. His slapdash pinboard. His tablet charging on the floor next to the bed. 

Shannon stays behind him for a moment. He feels her clutching the back of his sleep shirt, although he knows it isn’t something he can feel. Her breathing shallows, although he knows she isn't breathing. 

“My baby,” she says. Very simply. Simply true. He’s a quiet sleeper, Chris. He doesn’t snore. He doesn’t fidget. He sleeps like a log. Like his Dad, these days. All energy and action, until he’s out. When he’s out, he’s out. But he’s a bright riser, despite the depth of his sleep. When he wakes, he’s pretty quickly at it again. Alert and on. Like his Dad. 

“Go on,” Buck says. 

“I can’t wake him,” Shannon says. 

“Alright. But-“ he nudges her shoulder with his own. She nudges back. She steps closer. One small step and then all the way to the bed; drawn, inevitable and usntoppable and urgent. But gentle. She sits gently. 

She hesitates with her hand above his head, for a moment, before it lands-Buck knows, without really landing. Not in a way that Chris can feel, that might rouse him.

“My baby,” she says, again. Whispering, again. “Oh, I’m so proud of you.” She strokes his hair. “I love you so much, my baby. I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so proud of you. Oh I love you, my baby, I love you.” 

She runs her hand from his head to his arm, she leans down. She covers his body with her own. Then she holds him. Her beautiful brown hair gets mixed up in his dusty mop. Her hair covers his face. She totally covers him. She holds him. 

Buck steps back from the doorway. He leaves the door ajar. He pads lightly. He goes back to bed.

you can read this also on ao3/leave a comment to let me know what you thought <3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/58174024

[assaily]

I have so many documents that have just little scraps of writing in them. A little while ago i was looking for an old howling draft and found some more random scraps. I cannot tell if i wrote this for howling or not, but it's cute Diego and Five fluff. Five is also baby in this and so a bit out of character, but y'know that's why it's a scrap

-

“Come here.”

Five scowled at Diego, at the peace offering in his tone. “Fuck off,” he snapped. He wasn’t done being annoyed with his brother yet to be swayed by the gentle, off-putting tone Diego just addressed him with.

“Stop being an ass and come here,” Diego groused, something still gentle and apologetic on his face, even as his tone veered back into irritation. “I’m sorry, alright.” He didn’t sound very sorry, but Five suspected that was why he wanted him to come closer. Diego was bad at verbal apologies, and they’d all learned a much more effective way to get under his skin.

Five knew that he could keep snapping, declare he didn’t want them to touch him and that would be that. Surprisingly clear boundaries for a bunch of people who traditionally didn’t have many to begin with. They treated Five a little like he was feral, but he supposed the treatment was earned.

“Five,” Diego said again, even softer in response to Five’s obvious hesitation. “It’s alright, I’m sorry. Let’s just calm down for a second.” He beckoned him over with his hands, and Five finally sighed in resignation.

He actually hated how much he wanted this, and how well it worked. He really was an animal, his siblings working very hard to keep him tamed. He gave in, stepping closer but making Diego close the distance himself with arms open to envelope him.

He knew, cognitively, logically, reasonably that Diego wasn’t going to hurt him, but his body still curled into itself without his permission, arms over his chest like that would protect him from an attack that would never come. Diego knew that was just how Five responded, didn’t hesitate as he wrapped his arms around Five’s shoulders and pressed their bodies together like they’d never been apart for over forty years.

Something lurched in Five’s chest, like it always did when they embraced him, his eyes burning with emotions he couldn’t even really feel anymore, but that swirled inside of him all the same. Churned to life in his brother’s arms. Five forced himself to breath, to feel the body pressed against him, the arms around his shoulders.

It was hard to be mad when he was reminded how much he loved them and needed them. It was hard to be testy when they offered him such blatant love, no strings attached, no work required. A safe place to settle against a heart he had fought for so long to keep beating.

It really wasn’t fair, how easy it was for them once they learned they could just hug him into submission. They definitely took advantage of the weakness, ending arguments before they got out of hand with an offer of open arms. And Five, the deprived creature he was, struggled to say no simply for how deeply he wanted the contact. He didn’t know how to ask, so he took what they offered him, even if it meant conceding an argument. One day, Five promised himself, he wouldn’t be this weak to them.

But as Diego secured him a little tighter, rocking him back and forth to loosen the rust in his lungs, Five had doubts. Diego threaded a hand through his hair, the pads of his fingers pressing into the sensitive muscles at the base of his head, bolting bone-deep pleasure down his spine; Five knew he wouldn’t be getting used to this any time soon.

He didn’t remember slumping against Diego, or closing his eyes as his fingers kneaded into the back of his neck, knees getting weaker and weaker until suddenly Diego was scooping an arm under him and pulling him up.

“You gotta tell us when you aren’t sleeping, Five. We want to help you, but we can’t do that if we don’t know what’s going on.”

Once, Five would have groused that he didn’t need help, certainly not their help. He had survived so much on his own, he didn’t need to be doted on like this. But Diego was slow to take him to bed, one arm holding his weight, the other wrapped around his shoulders, and Five’s arms secured around Diego’s neck like a buoy in the ocean. Diego walked slow, each step like a gentle wave, lulling Five down into a place of quiet and rest.

He didn’t say he didn’t need the help, because they both knew that was a lie. The biggest lie Five had ever tried to tell them, or himself. So he tucked his face into his brother’s throat and listened to his heart beating and his body breathing. He was so tired now, without the anger keeping him awake, and the warmth pressing against him, the sway and rock just as much of a comfort.

Like he was a child, a wayward animal in need of soothing. If he still had any pride left, he’d be mortified. But his pride had been long trampled into dust, and he was far, far too small now to take no for an answer when one of his siblings offered him affection like this.

“You’ll stick ‘round?” he asked, hearing the slur in his own words.

“Yeah, bud,” Diego said, voice wavering like it always did when Five asked this question. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Five sighed softly, tightening his hold on his brother and letting his thoughts go to focus on the sensations instead.

-

more snips here and here

[after-witch]

Divulgence [Yandere L Lawliet x Reader]

Title: Divulgence [Yandere L Lawliet x Reader]

Synopsis: You don’t know how much longer you can keep your worries to yourself, and you finally do spill your guts to the only person who can listen: the man who kidnapped you. 

Word count: 653

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader

Your arms wrap around your legs, pulling them tighter to you, and you will yourself to disappear into the sofa. As if molding into the cushions might shrink the thoughts that have ballooned inside your head for days now, growing larger and larger until they’re pressing so tight against your skull that you want to scream. 

There’s nothing but awful silence, thick, and then--

“You’ve been awfully quiet. Is something bothering you?” L says it so lightly and casually from his position on the other couch, and doesn’t he know that makes it hurt more? 

“What do you care?”

The words come out fast, irrational. You didn’t mean to say them. Not when you’re so, so afraid that he’ll just confirm your worries if you spill your anxiety-ridden guts. 

“Go on,” he says, calm, mild, as if you didn’t just snap at him. 

The hint of interest you see in his eyes hurts, bringing a stinging sensation to your chest.

It’s the first time he’s looked at you with interest that didn’t feel so surface level. Sure, he stares at you. All the time, in fact. He stares because he thinks you’re pretty.

But looked at you for any other reason? No. You don’t seem to get much of that. Or anything else from him, but the feeling that you’re something ornamental to be stared at until you’re worn out and useless. And what happens when things come useless? 

“What do you want me to say?” you answer, finally, voice shaking. “That I’m feeling sick to my stomach all the time because you only look at me like I’m, a--a trophy or a toy you keep on your shelf? That I’m terrified about what’s going to happen to me when I start getting older, or--” 

You swallow tight. “Or if I get sick and I’m not so nice to look at anymore?” Your arms clench tighter around your knees. “You don’t even seem like you like me, much less…” You can’t bring yourself to say love, considering that he is your stalker-turned-captor and you still don’t know how to process that.

And finally, all your stress balled in your stomach unfurls, slow and slimy, coming out in the tired, shaking question you pose towards your captor. 

“What will happen when you get tired of me?” 

There’s a long silence.

“Well, I admit this is unexpected. I thought you were simply depressed due to the change in your living situation.”

All you can do is stare at him as he continues, ticking off the points as he makes them.

"I wouldn't call you a trophy, because that would mean I had to win you. I took you, and now I have you, and that is that. When you get older, you will be older, and I will be older. That is how time works. If you are sick, I will take care of you. We may need to bring in a team if it’s something serious, but I don’t anticipate that being a problem.” 

"If you aren't aware of my feelings towards you, I apologize." You feel the slap of surprise so suddenly that you feel as if you’ve really been struck. 

"I am aware that physical affection is necessary in relationships.” He shifts on the couch, regarding you with something much deeper than mild interest. “But my estimations led me to believe that increased affection would only drive you further away until you were more acclimated to your situation. I suppose I was incorrect on that count, yes?”

Your cheeks burn. Did you want your kidnapper to show you he loved you? You can’t decide on a response, so you simply let your expression rest, warm and bewildered. 

“I’m more than happy to adjust my behavior earlier than anticipated.” He smiles at you, and there’s something cheeky in it that makes your chest sting in an entirely different way. “Shall we start now?”

[thus-spoke-lo]

writing warm-up || Ace x reader || NSFW-ish wc: 818

Ace sits between your legs on the floor, his arms draped over your knees.

"I wish you'd stop getting yourself hurt," you mumble as you tape another wound shut on his bicep.

"Now why would I do that when you're so good at fixing me up?" The shit-eating grin on his face was evident in every syllable.

You huff a sigh as you tap the back of his head. You were getting better at tending to his wounds—better than you’d like to be. You still hadn’t mastered feeling like you hadn’t been crushed by a battleship every time you saw him come back, covered in bruises and bloody wounds, a half-smile on his face as he took off his hat and offered you some sort of apology for the state you found him in. Still though, there was a part of you that didn’t mind playing doctor—if it meant he’d have to strip down to next to nothing and lean his body into yours while your hands roamed over his sun-kissed body, then you would take what you were offered.

“So are you saying you do it on purpose, then?” Your fingertips dance along the backs of his arms, tracing every vein, making patterns in his freckles. “Do you go out and get yourself stabbed just to have me fix you up?”

He tilts his head back to glance up at you, a glimmer in his dark eyes. “And what if I said I did?”

“Well, then I’d say you’re the greatest liar on the Grand Line,” you grin, as you continue to run your fingers along his arms and shoulders until he wrenches himself away from you

“Hey, be careful, that tickles,” he says through breathless chuckles. He moves in his spot, tilting his head against your hand to stop your movements.

“Oh, does it now?” Clearly, this was a challenge now, and you attack him with agile fingers, reaching down to graze his ribcage.

He scrambles to his feet and stands before you, panting from laughter, his broad chest heaving as he stares you down. He moves quickly now, too fast for you to escape; he climbs onto the couch next to you and digs his fingers into your sides with an urgency in his motions. You’re forced onto your back, your muscles aching with every wheeze and bark that slips out of you as his wide hands graze your sides, sliding up your shirt, groping at your bare skin, until the air feels like it’s been punched out of your lungs.  

You tell yourself through a haze of dizziness to pay no attention to the sudden flood of heat that settles between your thighs; you cannot, however, ignore the hardness you feel brushing against your thigh as Ace rests his weight on you, his body engulfing you. The way he smiles at you as he finally ceases his onslaught, the way he still has you pinned under him, the way his hand is still settled on your bare skin, his thumb making circles on your flesh—well, it would seem he didn’t quite care if you felt the weight of his interest pressing into you.

He tilts his head, examining you with a hungry gaze. “You’re so pretty, you know that?”

“You think so?”

“Oh, I know so,” he asserts, resting his weight on his elbow, bringing his free hand up to your cheek. “I’ve seen a lot faces, none of them as pretty as yours.”

“You’re just saying that ‘cause you have to.”

“Why would I have to?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be nice to your crewmates? Especially the ones who tolerate your bullshit and patch you up whenever you ask?” You can’t help yourself, not when he’s this close, not when he’s taking up every inch of space in the room until there is only you and Ace. You can’t help but bring your arms up to wrap around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair, feeling his muscles twitch under your touch.

“Well yeah,” he murmurs, stroking your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “But I wouldn’t lie to you. Not ever.”

“No?”

“Never.” His face hovers closer to yours, his gaze darting between your eyes and your lips.

You don’t stop him. You feel the heat of his breath and the roughness of his lips on yours and you don’t stop him. Your eyes fall shut and you let him kiss you, his mouth warm and wet against yours, a fiery tingling sensation lingering with every touch of his lips. His heated palm slides around to grip the back of your neck, holding you in place, as if there would be anywhere else you’d rather be.

He pulls away and smiles at you—that smile that makes your heart ache and your stomach fill with birds beating their wings. “See? So pretty I could just kiss you.”

[sluttywonwoo]

How would seventeen react to them accidentally blowing your back out after a night of fun 😳?

i’m assuming u mean like ur back hurts after sex?? or like ur sore?

seungcheol: he’d probably chuckle a little, but offer you some ibuprofen or something and encourage you to spend the day resting

jeonghan: he’s the cockiest mf ever, but seeing you in pain turns a switch for him and he’s instantly all over you, apologizing and asking what he can do to make it better. it wouldn’t even be that bad and you’d tell him that you actually liked it, but he’d be so upset with himself

joshua: i think he’d be a little smug ya know? proud that he’s the reason you’re walking funny, and he’d tease you about it, but make it up to you when you got home wink wink

jun: he would feel a little guilty, and be very clingy to you the whole day after…. he’d follow you around the house and make sure you weren’t doing anything strenuous- even going as far as scolding you when you were moving heavy furniture around without him aksjsjs

soonyoung: he’d be so insufferable about it!!! like he wouldn’t tell anyone why you were sore, but he’d imply with that cheeky smirk on his face and everyone would know anyway because the two of you aren’t very quiet.

wonwoo: he probably wouldn’t have meant to go that far, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it when you were a little sore after sex. to him it’s a good sign when you’re complaining the next day, it means he did his job well. but if you were in more pain than usual he’d apologize and make a mental note to be gentler next time.

jihoon: he’d honestly feel really bad snd offer to massage your sore muscles… which would lead to more sex tbh. but what is he supposed to do when you moan his name every time he adds pressure to the knot in your back??

seokmin: would do everything short of getting on his knees and begging for your forgiveness. he’d be near tears, asking you to point at where it hurt and then pressing a gentle kiss to the area. you’d have to reassure him repeatedly that it wasn’t that bad

mingyu: he’d be a cocky little shit let’s be honest. seeing you limp around your apartment after the way he manhandled you the night before would inflate his ego immeasurably, and it’d take everything in him not to drag you to bed for round two then and there.

minghao: he’d make you some tea, which he always does anyway, and then ask you if it had been more painful or pleasurable. and when you answer the latter something in his eyes would darken and as he set his cup down on the coffee table and pulled you onto his lap

seungkwan: can’t bear to see you in any kind of pain, or so he thinks until he hears the way you moan when he accidentally brushed against a bruise he’d given you… and then he changes his tune

vernon: he’d be all “shit, did i really go that hard?” like he didn’t remember getting a noise complaint from the neighbors just a few hours ago

chan: he’d try to hide his disappointment with himself, but you can see right through him and you’d be the one having to comfort him instead of the other way around

[bigfemdomenergy]

Use Your Words

»»-————　♔　————-««

Anime: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Toge Inumaki x Reader

Word Count: 1500+ words.

Summary: You caught Toge masturbating without permission so obviously, if he wanted it so badly, shouldn’t you be nice and give it to him?

Warnings: Edging, masturbation, dacryphilia, handjob. 

Note: This was actual really fun to write! Toge’s so cute

»»-————　♔　————-««

There’s an art to teasing someone. You have to be sure about what exactly makes them flush, but you can’t use it all the time lest they may become immune to it. You have to select the right time to tease them, and you have to say it a certain way. Most importantly, a smug look is a must. You wouldn’t say you had that down to a T, but Toge sure thinks so. Especially when it comes to teasing him, you were an expert because you didn’t even need to touch him. 

You sat on a chair, leg over the other with an arm propping up your head as you looked down on him. Toge would never admit he liked it this way when he was forced to look up at you. There was a smirk curling on your lip, almost like a sneer, and it caused his breath to hitch. He wasn’t quite sure if he could breathe like this, and it’s been almost over an hour. It was torture and it was all because he couldn’t wait until you got back. 

Toge had been edging himself for the past hour. His face was flushed, tears drying on his cheeks only to be replaced with new ones. Breaths hiccuping, Toge was completely at your mercy. He couldn’t take it anymore. Brows furrowing, Toge whined and glared at you.

That’s not to say he wasn’t enjoying his punishment. Oh, no. His back was pressed against the foot of the bed and he was completely naked. It was a little humiliating since you were dressed, but he reckoned what was more humiliating was the fact he enjoyed this too much. The fact that you were watching him jerk off, speaking sweet phrases in a low voice into the quietness of the room—fuck, he needed to cum so badly. 

“What is it?” you asked, swinging your leg. The slick sound of Toge rubbing his cock slowed down as he tried to muster strength to...to what? He couldn’t do anything. He deserved this punishment. If only he hadn’t been so impatient. If only he had obeyed you. 

His mouth formed the word, “Please.” You’ve learned to read his lips since he couldn’t talk, and the two of you shared dozens of ways to communicate without speaking. Like a tap, or signing using your hands, or even a look. 

“Please? Please, what, sweetheart? I can’t understand you if you aren’t specific,” you said. “Am I supposed to guess? Do you want me to touch you? Let you cum? Do you want me to fuck you? Ride you until morning? Want me to suck on your cock? Give you a handjob?”

Toge nodded frantically to every single one of them. Anything! Anything! He’d be happy with anything you did to him. At least do something. At least touched him. At the very least. His mouth was forming the word “please”, over and over again. Please, please, please. Please to all of that. Please to one of them. Please. Anything. As long as you did something! He couldn’t keep this up anymore! He was at his limit, chest heaving, sweat dripping, cock throbbing hard. 

You tilted your head. “Which one, love? Use your words.”

“Ungh!” Toge bursts into more tears. You both knew he couldn’t use his words! He couldn’t! Why were you so mean? “Mmph, haa!”

“You act like you don’t like it when I’m mean,” you said, grinning, pressing your legs together at the sight of him crying as he jerked pathetically at his cock. As much as you wanted him, this was still wonderful. “Okay. Stand up. Come here.”

Stand up? Toge didn’t know if he could! But he does it anyway. With shaky trembling legs, he managed to rip his hand away from his aching cock long enough to stumble over to you. So close. Searching eyes and a tap on the back of your hand. Could he touch you?

“No,” you said and he whined. “Why? I thought you were content without me? You certainly seemed so when I came in and found you masturbating.”

He’s sorry! He’ll behave! Please! Whimpers and whines. Toge was so frustrated. He was a frustrated mess who needed you and only you. He couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t cum. He had been jerking off but it hadn’t been enough. He needed your touch, he needed your eyes on him to be able to cum, he needed you. He wouldn’t be able to cum by himself. You had made sure of it, intoxicating him. 

“Have you no shame, Toge?” you asked, taking a finger and rubbing the slit of his cock. Toge practically keens—he’s so sensitive! It’s been an hour! He’s been touching his cock for an hour or more, but it’s your touch. He’s so sensitive, so aware of your touch. Toge hunched over, knees giving out, and feverishly searched for something to hold on, clutching onto your arms to stable himself. Tears were dripping down his face, drool, sweat. His throat was dry from all the crying, nose red, and you didn’t even look like you'd give in.

“Hng, agh,” Toge groaned. His fingertips pressed into your arm, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to tell you he was desperate. That he wouldn’t last long. He swore that if you were to start fucking him now, he’d honestly cum the moment you put him in. 

“Are you going to fall?” You asked, tone soft. Toge whimpered. You brushed a tear from his face and stood up with a smile. “Okay. You can hold onto me if you’re scared you’ll fall.”

“Ngh,” Toge whined as his arms circled around you. He placed his head into the crook of your neck, nuzzling in, whimpering and whining. His cock is left alone so to remind you, he rubbed it against you, just a little, and that was enough to make him gasp. His hand wasn’t the same as you. He couldn’t cum from his own hand but he bet he’d cum from rubbing anywhere on you. 

“Use your words, love,” you reminded him and Toge’s toes curled in frustration as he groaned into your neck, sobbing. 

He couldn’t take it anymore!

Toge grabbed your hand and guided it to his cock so you could feel how messy you’ve made him. You smirked and nudged your head against his with a hum. “Oh, I see. Why didn’t you tell me sooner, Toge? How was I supposed to know?”

“Aah!” Toge cried out as you began to pump him up and down. His hips bucked and his arms tightened around you, hiccuping and gasping for breath. Oh, fuck. Ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck! Close! He was so close already! He was close!

You listened to Toge moan and cry, shuddering against your body. Music to your ears. Toge had the loveliest voice, especially when he was moaning like this. With his head so close to you, you could hear all the little sounds he made, every time he exhaled or took in a sharp breath. He rutted against your hand, wetting your shoulder, but you were perfectly happy with it. 

“Do you want to cum, darling? Do you think you deserve to cum?” you asked, twisting your wrist and making Toge sob. 

He sniffled. It was in situations like these that he was glad he couldn’t answer. He wanted to cum so badly but whether or not he deserved it was a different matter. All he could do was hold onto you and try not to be washed away with your scent, your touch, all the pleasure you were giving and depriving him of. 

Toge tapped you twice. Close. You thought about it and decided to speed up your hand. Toge gasped loudly, throwing his head back, eyes wide. You watched as he came undone by your hands, trembling, cum shooting out of his cock. It splattered onto your clothes and his stomach, thick and hot, all over your hand. Toge wobbled and his legs gave out. Surprised, you caught him before he hit the ground. You gently placed him down and he sat there, dazed.

“Hnn?” He looked up at you, blinking blurrily, completely fucked out. You giggled and bent down, taking him by the chin and forcing his mouth open. Toge’s tongue lolled out, the circle catching your attention. You pressed your thumb on top of it and Toge’s tongue wrapped around your digit. 

“How do you feel?” you asked. 

“Mmph.” Toge closed his eyes blissfully, sucking and licking your thumb as if it was a lollipop. 

“How lewd,” you commented and he moaned. You removed your thumb. “Are you going to be a good boy for me from now on?”

“Uh-huh.” Toge opened his eyes, watching you through slits, sleepy, exhausted. 

You pressed a kiss to his mouth, unable to resist. Your tongues clashed, but you pulled away all too soon, leaving Toge to follow after you, hands coming out to hold on to you as if he was afraid you’d leave him. He had a confused expression on his face but groaned when you traced his lips. 

“Liar,” you said and he made a noise of protest. “How can I believe you when you can’t even use your words, darling?”

Toge whined.

[muffindaddystyles]

OMG I LOVE DOM H THATS INLY SOFT FOR HIS SUB BUT WHEN THEIR BRATTY HE GOES FULL DOM MODE

MELTS AND BOILS OUT OF HORNINESS

Y/N was more of cuddly and clingy tonight.

Wanting nothing but to hide herself in Harry’s chest pawing at his well-built hips with a huff through her nose to be more closer to him, all of it because of his sweet praising for her's while he took her pictures in his phone before leaving for this party he wanted her to be his date— maybe a simple companion she doesn’t know yet where they stand.

She looked too angelic in a baby pink satin slip dress for him not to smother her face in careful dotting kisses and grumbled in feign offend when she pushed him away with her small hand and giggled shyly.

“Y'gonna say no to daddy, Angel?” His daunting tut, blew her pupils into surprise and she rolled her eyes and went to swat his bicep, while her lower abdomen sparkled and tingled with excitement and delight. He likes to play all sweet and precious, but underneath that tentative and “’M putty in my Angels palm,” gooey exterior’s a wicked, mischievous little sneak and satan who likes to see her suffer, basking in the sputtery and fiddly reactions of hers.

Especially in public. Oh he loves it, when he’s intentionally grazing his warm lips against her earlobe to whisper how she’s so good for daddy, darting his tongue out to wet his lips and tease her. He liked taking her out on expensive fancy restaurants and be a filthy prat with his words without a shame making her knees knock into tables, gets her all warm and pink with his little plays like kissing her fingertips one by one and slipping them slowly into his mouth, kissing the dribbles of ice-cream from her chin and murmur hotly against her cupid bow, “Hmm. Your peach’s sweeter, moppet.” to feel her squeeze onto his hand that holds her all the time, always having a hand on the small of her back and raking it impossibly low only to get her all squirmy and bashful for him, barking out a laugh when she squeals for he slip it inside her bottoms and snapped them playfully.

He loves to rouse her and make her dip into the haziness, then has an audacity to sharpen a finger at her and grunt at her, “Behave.” When she copied his vicious actions back.

Saying this, he was back to chatting his friends and call Y/N bratty how much you want but the impulsive yearn that was bubbling in her tummy skunked over with jealousy, so she chose the better option. To infuriate and arouse him with her risky little play-tactics, in hope he might drag her away and push her into the nearest washroom and tell her to suck onto daddy’s cock— then swat her hands away harshly and fuck her little watery mouth himself.

So. When she tried to be as sly as possible pretending to drop something on the ground and then bent to have her ass, clad in silk lacies peeking for him teasingly. Harry noticeably gets a bit disgruntled, adjusting himself in trousers and shifting to yank her back to pull her against his chest with a displeased frown.

This time he didn’t tell her to behave making her pout awfully whiny up at him and getting her even more frustrated by smiling down at her as if nothing happened.

Though, the smile’s one of the sinister pressed jaw bbreakin-ly to stop him from gritting his teeth and land a hard stingy slap to her bum right infront of everyone.

Y/N stomps her feet which indeed gains his attention but he chooses to ignore it, wrapping his arm around her waist to keep her closer to his side without even sparing a glance down at her.

Alas. Y/N has waved white flags of defeat considering no-amount of teasing and battiness would break his resolve – one the many things she’s envious of him in their little escapade of naughtiness, is Harry got a hellish of self-control, no wonder that’s one of the reasons he’s her dom.

“Where y'going?” He asks through a smile that was gleamed at his childhood bestfriend and not Y/N, she gulps down the lump of bitterness down her throat–- tone high-pitched in her mumble from the unbelievable achiness between her thighs and all she wants to do’s claim him hers, with deep red bites at his sweet pulse and the front of his throat’s bump.

She has no-idea in the flying fuck, what she’s stammering about, “Ni. Ma–. . . maybe he’ll be a better dom than you.” Ouch. Harry’s veins boils with spleen and indescribable outrage, his face sculptures into a fierce indignation–- out of his realization staring down at her blankly.

For a moment though Y/N feels an immense guilt pour down her head like cold icy water, cause all he’s been to her is sweet and caring telling her how precious she’s for him and how he’s gonna make love to her once they come back home.

She tends to say rubbish in her floatiness but never she has ever doubted him and her eyes gets all swimy, hands rushing up to cradle his face not caring if there’s a gathering around them – though she retreats when he doesn’t let her and to play nice with him has become a none to never option, atleast for tonight when he sets his eyes back on his friend, Y/N’s shoulders slump and shrugs; her head perks up immediately after when he’s bidding them byes and her inners fill with excitement and anticipation to just go home.

. . .

Her panties pools with arousal when he spreads his thighs apart, patting his meaty flesh with a skewered annoyance, “On daddy’s lap, bum out,” With gleeful little nod she’s stumbling her way towards him and he’s not pawing at her hips to lay her down and shove her face into the mattress, keeping his hands to himself quite for a moment before pondering if it’s the right punishment seeing how her panties are already twisted, she shrinks into herself at his cold demeanour wiggling a little to adjust.

Don’t get her wrong. She loves having him gentle and sweet and tentative, pressed so tight she could feel each lull and thump of his heart. Feeling him crush her under his weight with each thrust of his’s overwhelming each of her pores with so much love for him—- sometimes she imagines him to be rough with her, when he grabs and holds and bite her to leave her sore and whiny next day. Pinning her thighs roughly and fucks into her so fast and hard and deep .. god so deep she feels him in her tummy and her pussy swallows down onto him wetly.

He bunches her dress up her spine, strokes her cheek lovingly, plucking at her waistband and touches the soft supple skin then realizes how and why they ended up here.

Her body relaxes into him, nuzzling her nose into his knee and thinks he changed his mind and is out of fumes, will now fuck her nice and warm until a very, disrupting startling swat to her bum makes her gasp and she jerks against his bicep that’s holding her place in now, “Tha’ hurt!” She whined, pouting even though he couldn’t see it because his hold’s firm on her and if it stung didn’t mean she wants to stop him – it’s sparking the tingles in her pit wanting for more.

“’S supposed to,” He grabs onto her hand that tries to reach behind and rub the sting away, “Knows why you’re gettin’ punished right?” He doesn’t wait for her short nod and gives another firm slap to her right cheek and she feels it jiggling under his calloused palm.

“Words!” He growls, she feels small and little in his lap and she’s loving it – knowing he’d immediately stop if she’d accentuate any discomfort, “Was mean. Teased daddy and ...” She mewls when he kneads her blushed skin and clucks his tongue at her, something so dominating and domineering about him in a way she wants to obey him and listen to him quite oddly now after so much wreck havoc—- her noise strangling inside herself out of embarrassment and utter shyness; that she hurt him.

“...and daddy doesn’t likes to be teased.” He says derisively, blunt nails scratching her thighs to raise goosebumps on her skin.

“Ought to teach ya a lesson, didn’t I? You’d be still a filthy brat if it wouldn’t hurt.” He slithers his long fingers under her chin and grabs it, makes her look up at him– giving a light slap to her parted lips when she refuses to look him in eyes.

She's puckering her spit coated lips to suck his digits in her mouth and shallow her cheeks around them, grousing when he removes them out of her reach and she melts into his palm when he gives her two more spanks one after another between her asscheeks quick and hard and rolls his thumb painfully closer to where her little hole is clenching.

Might, in other cases, he'd have cooed at her and caressed her bottom, murmuring, “Such a soft little thing,” and “Moppet y'did so good for daddy,”

“Turn over.” He elevates her with his knee, rocking her on his bulge teasingly and loops his arm around her waist to finally help her up.

The sea foam glazed eyes peering down at her with such intensity makes Y/N chase for his lips eagerly and she cries out when he backs away, “Daddy no ...” Her complain is dropping to a low whimper as Harry strokes his thumb over her bottom pouty lip, creaming her panties and pricking the balloon of exhilaration in her tummy -- she’s a bit upset he hasn’t called her pet names at all and he still thinks she’s bad and hasn’t learned her lesson.

She did! She’s good!

“Maybe if you weren’t so mean,” He cups her bum, breath hitching for a moment when she hisses, lifts her up and glides her panties down, “I would’ve eat your cute pussy out earlier.” He utters, nose burrowing in her neck when she tries to get rid of the panties to be good for him, “Perhaps only really good girls gets their peach eaten . . ‘cos they really deserve it, dunno?”

Her head bows against his chest, feeling unexpectedly too small and disheartened as she murmurs kittenishly clutching his sides and blinking up at him in desperation with glossy lashes, “’M good daddy. Aren’t I?” He let a small smile tick his dimples which went unnoticed by her, of how much haziness and subbiness she has gone under.

He sponges his lips to her collarbones, a whimper scrapes from her throat from where her hands are pressed to the seam of his slacks, while he leans back undoing his buttons.

His cock twitches and akin to it his face warm pink and happy at the noises she creates once he’s out and he grasps her wrists and tugs her forward, “I’m your good girl.” She takes a huge weepy sigh leaning herself to get his cock inside her without seeming bad— because she wants to be good and she’s needy and achy at the same time.

“Your sore and stingy bum would say otherwise, Bunny.” He grins, and a groan rattles in his chest when he swipes his fingers up her folds to inspect her and she’s dripping thickly.

“Fuck. Sucha tight pretty hole f'me.” He murmurs. Helps himself ease inside wet, tight hole and holds himself from making both of them flop back into sheets when she fits around him velvety and snug, his balls pressed to her bum.

She goes to loop her elbows around his neck to smush herself into him and to muffle any inhumane noises she’ll create-- too afraid she’d sob out for being in such a vulnerable state, rather, he hooks his fingers around her wrists securely and holds them behind her spine.

“Bounce on my cock, Bunny.” He orders and she mewls, realizing he isn’t done with her and knows she tires herself too early whilst ridding him and ends up grouching and huffing.

She complies. Feeling herself stuffier and stuffier, she soaks his cock utterly slick with each of his throb inside her and she always loves how he gets more stiff once inside her like it’s the best place he wants to be in and she gazes with hooded eyes to where she has created the slide for him easier, as her pussy squelches around him with his each buck and rough thrust.

“Aah! Ah!” She cries, nibbling onto the fading love-mark on his neck when he slips his hand between their bodies to roll her clit, “Yes, yes. Right there daddy!” He tips her chin to wrap his mouth around her swollen bitten lip and suckles on it murmuring.

“Here yeah? Is daddy’s cock nice and big, hitting your spot good, fuckin’ my baby’s spots good.”

She pouts up at him, chest heaving from all her work and he brushes her hair behind, “Apologise fo’ being naughty and you might get to cum,” She wastes no time, body stretching in arched bow with his slam of hips into her.

“I’m sorry, for being naughty and misbehaving!” She blubbers slumping onto his chest.

He pats her bum, groping it to help her fuck her cunt down his heavy prick and he whispers gutturally in her ear, “Keep going bunny. I could feel ye' pussy squeezin' me s'bloody tight.” He fucks her sloppily circling her sensitive nub twice, thrice until she’s gushing all over him in a heavenly manner thrashing in his arms and not able to screw down any moans and noises.

His own orgasm follows her. Pouring her hole with a heavy cum-load and his grip from around her wrists loosens up, falling on his sides and crinkling the sheets while he stuffs his nose into her shoulder hill thighs jerking under her.

They stay, like that for some seconds, covered in sheen and possibly eachother’s sweat— his recovery was too livid he didn’t heard soft sniffles against his cheek and his chest immediately suffocates up when he draws Y/N away to be met by her glassy drunk pink eyes, lower lip wobbling awfully sad.

“Daddy I’m sorry, I’m bad, I’m so sorry daddy —...” Her jumbled apologies gets lost into her violent sob that knocks her chest and she gasps, bursting wide pupils locked to Harry’s panicked ones and he quickly cradles her face shaking his head furiously, “No baby. You’re my good girl, me best girl.” His tone honest and loving and adoring.

“No! I hurt you ....” She trembles, hiding her face into her elbow and Harry pulls it away, he moulds both of his palms against her teary warm cheeks and lulls her face with all of the endearment he holds for her in his heart.

“I didn’t mean it daddy, promise.” She sulks, fear swimming in her eyes shattering Harry’s heart into infinite pieces and he scolds himself for it, terrified he went too harsh with her, “I know bunny. I know."

“Now come back to me, Angel. Harry misses you. Wanna have me Angel bac—...” Her babbling takes over his coaxing and she hiccups, head a mess of vivid thoughts and doubts, “I got jealous, don’t like it when you look at your friends the same way y'do to me,” He wasn’t. He could never see someone in the same light and same affection and adoration he sees his lovie, since, she was gone under the foam of dizziness too much and neglected of his attention it seemed like that to her and Harry’s beating himself for making her feel like it.

“I...I know, shouldn’t. ‘M sorry, but I love you so much daddy . . .” More tears springs and falls from her eyes. Her crying confession leaves Harry appalled and shocked, butterflies swarming in his tummy and his hands stays limp on her side before he ponders that’d make her over-think he doesn’t wants to touch her so he instantly rubs his hands up and down her arms, mouth guppies many time to stutter out something.

They hadn’t exchanged ‘I love yous' yet. He knew they’d. He wanted it be when they’d be all cuddled and he’s pecking her all where and making love to her, not when she barely knows about her presence and is too floaty to have her feet on ground.

“I love you too. I love you too, so much baby, fuck.” He presses his forehead to hers, nosing her softly and gently and then smashes his lips against hers in a deep humming kiss instead of answering when she blinks up at him startled asking, “You do,” So innocently that Harry had to kiss his love and feel the taste of sex on her mouth and suckle on her tongue to drive her mind away from deprecating herself.

“Wanna have my Angel, back. Please? Pretty please?”

“No more mad?”

“Could never be, you my baby.”

“Can I keep you inside me for sometime? I’ll be good.” She murmurs sleepily, Harry wraps his arms around her and snuggles her into his chest, “My cock’s all yours pretty girl.” He soothes her back. Waiting patiently for her breathing pattern to go back to normal.

“Thank you.” Her voice sobering up, cracking the cocoon of fog where his Y/N rests and the moment she’d be out, he’s gonna kiss her love for him out of her lips.

[thesolferino]

senior high school bf!dream headcanons

⤷ note: literally woke up this morning and couldn’t get it out of my head so i wrote this whole thing at like 8 am while having coffee instead of writing my actual requests. hope you enjoy!

mister “quarterback on the school’s football team-wide shoulders-super tall-pretty smile-letterman jacket” dream

your high school jock bf dream (no pun intended)

your high school was never that cliquey in the first place, but clay was definitely popular and well known by the whole school

he mostly hung out with nick (who everybody grew to call sapnap) and george who were, as opposed to him, kind of shit at sports, but geniuses in literally everything else

he never dated one of the cheerleaders despite them obviously hitting on him (who could blame them?) - he simply wasn’t interested. ppl couldn’t believe it, especially him being a senior and never having dated anyone from the school

the person he DID, however, end up dating, was you - a girl he had to tutor in english ‘cause you were so bad at it that you were absolutely going to fail

he wasn’t all that excited about it, assuming you wouldn’t want to cooperate, until he saw how pretty you were when you approached him to figure out when you guys were gonna meet up

and once he figured out you were actually quite good at english, just didn’t have the attention span for writing long essays, he liked you even more

during your shared chemistry class, for a moment he turned around to look at you, and you smiled at him from your place at the other end of the classroom

sapnap and george caught that. they did not let it go for approximately the rest of eternity

they actually let it go after a few weeks when they saw the two of you leaving the school together, hands interlocked

my GOD he would be a sucker for you wearing his clothes - ESPECIALLY HIS LETTERMAN

he’d take it off in school just to give it to you so you can walk around in his jacket and show off that you’re his

lots of stares since, like, that’s CLAY’s jacket!!!

he also gets jealous/protective so easily

one of the dudes in your class tells you you’re pretty? arm around your waist immediately

someone who’s into clay DARES to make fun of you? he’ll embarrass them in front of the whole class. no mercy!

he thinks you’re like the coolest person alive. he’ll just sit and listen to you ramble about things you love forever

you’d come to football practice with him when you had time (and even when you didn’t, because he’d beg you to come watch him) and cheered him on every time he seemed vaguely happy with his results since you had 0 knowledge of the game

be prepared for a lot of smelly and sweaty hugs

nothing he loves more than picking you up and spinning you around after they win a game

and hugging you very very very very very tight

“baby, let me go, you smell!” “what? i can’t hear you.” “i said you smell! let me go!” “wait, i need to bring you closer, i can’t hear what you’re saying.” “NO!!!!!”

also late night talks about your future and what he wants to do when he’s finally out

not sure if he wants to use his intellectual skills and learn coding or put his love for writing to use or keep doing football

you teasing him saying he’s like troy from high school musical

him wheezing loudly and claiming you’re gabriella

cue half an hour of discussing high school musical

going back to that “clay after they win a game” point,,,,,

nsfw under the cut! if you are a minor or uncomfortable with such topics, please stop reading here!

⤷ note: the characters in this story are high school seniors, which means they are 18-19 years old!

he’d have SO much adrenaline and energy that just needs to go somewhere

istg the stamina that man has is crazy

if the guys stick around in the locker room he’ll just usher you to one of the bathrooms and fuck you there

he does not give a single fuck if a teacher walks in; it’s their damn problem!

and if everyone gets changed quickly and leaves for an afterparty you bet you’re getting railed on one of those benches

“come on, baby, get on your hands and knees for me.”

he’s definitely one for overstimulating so he’ll just fuck you through your orgasm, fingers still on your clit and everything to the point you have to push them away

feel like he would be really good at aftercare so after he fills you up he’ll pick you up and sit you down on the bench, get some tissues and whatnot

“you okay?” “does it hurt?” “d’you want me to carry you?” “i didn’t hurt you too much, did i?”

and when they lose the game

whoooOooooo boy

you’re getting railed into next fucking week with all the force he has in his body

he’s going full degradation mode + spanking bc fucking you is just not getting that energy out by itself

“look at how you clench around me, whore. my little whore, aren’t you?

“i told you not to hold back. keep doing that and i’ll fuck you in the damn cafeteria so you’ll be sure everyone knows who you belong to.”

his ego is just wayyyyy too big to not have you screaming every time

tease him and he will have you spread out, begging and pleading. literally no question about it

“aw, you thought that was funny, didn’t you? not so funny now, is it, princess?”

he’ll edge you for literal hours until you apologise. don’t underestimate him! he has his goals set and will do whatever it takes to get to them

that’s what makes him so successful, i suppose

i just feel like he would be a vvv sweet boyfriend 🥺

(would defo convince you to go to a college that’s close to his but that’s a story for a different time)

football player dream supremacy, me thinks!

[nastybuckybarnes]

Training Wheels  -  One

Pairing: Dark!Step-Brother!Steve Rogers X Innocent!Reader

Summary: Your stepbrother would do anything for you. And he’s more than happy to prove that over and over and over again until you believe him. No matter what it takes. 

Warnings: Language, Sexual Harassment, Smut, Manipulation, Loss of Virginity, Sex between Step-siblings, bit of a size kink, 

Word Count: 3.7K

A/n: I have many parts of this planned but not written, and the taglist is open. Also, incase y’all forgot: I don’t talk politics on my blog. I’ve made it clear where I stand on certain things already and I want to keep my blog as an escape from reality for myself and others. 

A/n 2: I’m fucking tired so I’ll reply to asks and stuff probably tomorrow

!!!!THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT! 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!

~*~

“Hey, did (Y/n) get a new skirt?” At the sound of your name being mentioned, Steve snaps his head up, following his best friend’s gaze until it finally lands on you.

You’re walking across the campus courtyard towards the two of them, a smile on your face as you talk animatedly with Natasha and Wanda.

Sure enough, a new mini skirt is decorating your pretty legs. It flows with the breeze, almost getting blown up enough to see your panties.

“Jesus, that kid’s got some legs,” Bucky says, eyes roaming over your figure. Steve shoves his friend’s shoulder, giving him a hard glare.

“That’s my fucking sister you’re talking about. What would Nat think if she heard that?” Bucky rolls his eyes, grinning as his favourite redhead blows him a kiss.

“God, what I wouldn’t do to have those legs wrapped around my head.” You shudder in disgust, yelping as a hard hand comes down on your ass.

“Hey!” You exclaim, turning around and covering your butt while looking at the man.

“C’mon sweetheart. What’d you expect when you’re dressed like that?”

Steve’s on his feet, rushing over to you as you glare at your assailant.

“Maybe some fucking decency?! Leave me alone! I’m not a fucking object, dick-wad.”

“Rumlow!” Upon hearing your step-brother’s voice, Rumlow takes a step back.

“C’mon Rogers! There’s no harm in playful flirting. You of all people should know that.” Steve glares at him, his arm coming protectively over your shoulders, pulling you against his side and further away from the man.

“Yeah, but there’s shit wrong with touching people when they don’t want to be fucking touched.” Brock rolls his eyes and saunters away, shooting you a wink over his shoulder.

“I had it handled,” you grumble, walking with Steve’s arm over your shoulders towards the tree where he and Bucky were sitting.

“Yeah, really looked like it. A ‘thank you’ would be nice.” You roll your eyes and glare up at your step-brother.

“How do you expect me to defend myself if you jump in all the time?”

He shakes his head, a soft look on his face that has you dropping your guard for a moment.

“As long as I’m around, you shouldn’t have to defend yourself. That’s what I’m here for. I’m always gonna have your back, bunny. No matter what.” You smile at him, your heart warming at his words before Nat gets your attention.

You sit down next to her, Steve next to you with his arm still over your shoulders.

You and Wanda are quickly engaged in another conversation and Steve finds himself staring at you, a small smile on your face.

“You’re drooling, Steve,” Nat whispers, toes nudging his thigh. He glances over at the redhead and flips her off.

“C’mon. We should get going. I wanna beat the rush.” You nod at Steve, grabbing your bag and bidding your friends goodbye.

Bucky gives Steve a knowing look and the blond glares at his friend.

The two of you make your way to the parking lot together, him asking you about your day and you launching into a detailed description of everything you did.

As you’re heading to his car you pass by Brock and his group of friends. You quiet down immediately, slouching in on yourself.

Steve glares at the guys, his arm coming protectively around your waist as they ogle you.

You let out a big breath when you’re sitting in Steve’s car, groaning at the fact that you were harassed today.

“Why are guys stupid?” You ask, looking over at your step-brother as he starts driving.

“I wish I knew. You just gotta get lucky and find someone who’s mature and has respect for women, not a douchebag like Rumlow.” You nod, kicking your shoes off and putting your feet up on the dashboard.

“Hey, feet down.” You look over at him and stick your tongue out, keeping your feet up and wiggling your toes.

“What are you gonna do? You gonna make me?” He glances at you out of the corner of his eye and then one of his hands is on your thigh, squeezing the flesh hard and making you squirm, laughter bubbling out of you.

“Stop!” He doesn’t. If anything, it spurs him on and he tickles your thigh more.

“Feet down!” He shouts playfully, loving the sound of your laughter.

“Okay fine!” You finally pull your feet down and he smiles, fingers splaying on your bare thigh. He keeps his hand there for the rest of the drive, blood slowly moving south as he realizes what he's doing and the fact that you haven’t said anything about it.

It feels nice to have his hand on you. You hate that you like it but you do.

When you finally get home, your mom and his dad are pulling out of the driveway.

Steve rolls down his window and you unbuckle your seatbelt, climbing over his lap to stick your head out the window. Steve hits the brakes harder than intended and you fall forward, one hand bracing yourself on his thigh while your skirt flies up, your ass on full display.

“Jesus, Steve. You trying to kill me?” You ask before turning to the window.

“Where are you guys going?” You ask, confused. Your mom raises her eyebrows. “We’ve only been talking about our trip to Vegas for the past four months! We talked about it this morning too!” Realization hits you and you giggle. “Sorry! I hope you guys have fun! But not too much fun. One step-sibling is enough, I don’t need any more.” Steve’s dad laughs, shaking his head at you.

“You kids behave. Don’t throw any parties or anything. The neighbours know we’re gone so if you do anything we’ll know.”

“I don’t have enough friends to throw a party anyway. And Steve is a social outcast so you don’t need to worry about him.” Your mother gives you a look and you raise your eyebrows innocently.

“Be nice to your brother. We’ve gotta get going before we miss our flight. But I’ll talk to you when we land."

They start pulling away again and you stick your head further out the window, kneeling between Steve’s legs as he grabs your waist.

“He’s my Stepbrother!”

They drive off, your mom waving until they’re out of sight, and you sigh, climbing back into the car and looking at Steve.

His hands are still on your waist and he’s got a soft look in his eyes.

“Steve?” He hums, clenching his jaw as you shift on his lap to get comfortable, your thighs spreading as you straddle him.

“Do you think your dad’s gonna get my mom pregnant?” He groans, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

“God no. I don’t even wanna think about that but even if they... you know... my dad got a vasectomy a while ago.” You nod, hands on his shoulders as you purse your lips.

His eyes are focused so intently on them that he doesn’t notice when you open the door.

“First person inside picks dinner! Loser has to pay!” You jump out of the car and sprint inside, leaving Steve stunned and horny in his car.

~*~

The two of you sit on the couch watching movies, Steve with his arm thrown over the back of the couch.

“Hey Steve... can I ask you something?” He looks over at you, nodding and waiting for you to ask whatever’s on your mind.

“Is... do... does...” You groan, shaking your head, beyond embarrassed with yourself.

“C’mon bunny. You can ask me anything and I won’t judge you. You know that.” One of his hands comes to your knee, rubbing gently.

You nod, taking a deep breath before speaking.

“Do guys actually prefer when a girl is experienced? Does it... does it matter to them?” Whatever he thought you were going to ask... it certainly wasn’t this.

He raises his eyebrows and blows a breath out through his mouth.

“Some guys, yeah. I mean, it puts a lot of pressure on them to make sure your first time is good. Which is hard cause each girl cums differently and finds different things good so it’s hard to tell. Some guys like virgins but I think a lot like it if they aren’t a girl’s first just so they don’t have to live up to whatever expectations she may have.” He’s being honest with you and you value that, but it doesn’t exactly make you feel better about your situation.

You sit up and turn to him fully, a frown on your face.

“How do I find someone who’s willing to be my first so I can get it out of the way?” He inhales deeply, trying to take advantage of the situation in a way that won’t clue you into his true intentions. He wants you, but he wants you to think that he’s just helping you.

“You’ve gotta find someone you trust to do something like that, bunny. Someone who’s gonna be gentle with you because it’s gonna hurt a bit.” You frown, scooting closer and leaning your head against his shoulder.

“Where am I supposed to find someone who’s gonna be gentle with me like that? The only guys who even look at me are gross guys like Brock and I don't want someone like him to touch me.”

He brings one hand up to your head, smoothing your hair away from your face.

“I mean... I think I could find someone who would be willing to help you out. Show you the ropes just so you’re not totally inexperienced,” he murmurs, eyes focused on you as you look up at him slowly.

“Who?” His eyes flash down to your lips then back up to your eyes and you inhale sharply, realizing what he’s implying.

He doesn’t give you a second to object before he leans down and presses his lips against yours, making you gasp. He takes advantage of your parted lips and lets his tongue explore your mouth.

It takes a moment but you give in, kissing him back. One of your hands finds his hair, fingers tangling in the blond strands.

He shifts onto his side for a moment, hand grabbing your waist and pulling you forward until you’re straddling his lap.

The ball is in your court and you know you should stop but it feels so right. It’s something so unlike anything you’ve ever felt before and you wanna see where it will go. How it’ll feel to be touched by a man.

You finally pull away, panting hard with your eyes closed.

His hands grip your hips tightly and rock you forward, making you gasp as his hard length rubs against you through the material of your sweatpants.

“Steve wait,” you murmur, head falling back as he attacks your neck with kisses.

“Lemme teach you, Bunny. I’ll take good care of you, show you how it feels to be fucked properly. Please. I don’t wanna see you getting hurt by a guy who doesn’t care about your feelings. I’ll treat you so nice, Bunny, I swear.” His sweet words and the way he feels underneath you is enough to have you nodding.

He grins, one hand wrapping around your back as he quickly flips you onto your back. You gasp, arms wrapping around his shoulders to pull you tight against him.

He grinds against you for a moment longer before slowly pressing kisses down your neck and chest. He pulls away for a moment, just long enough to tear your shirt clean off your body, your bra following soon after.

His mouth kisses your breasts, giving each nipple far more attention than you thought he would. Your fingers are tangled in his hair, lips parted and heavy breaths falling from your mouth as a new type of pleasure builds inside of you.

“You like that?” He asks, eyes dark as he gazes up at you. You nod, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as he uses his thumb and index finger to tweak at your other nipple.

“Steve,” you whisper, arching your back and pushing your chest against his face. His kisses slowly move further down your body, lips leaving a wet trail over your stomach and past your navel.

His eyes are locked on yours as his fingers tug at the waistband of your sweatpants.

You raise your hips without hesitation, nervous but excited.

He’s your step-brother, and it’s wrong, but he’s so sweet to you. If there was one person on the planet who you trust to take your virginity and teach you about sex it’s him.

Your eyes fall closed, partly out of embarrassment as he lays between your naked legs, eyes on your centre.

He hoists your legs over his shoulders and, after making sure you’re eyes are closed, grabs your discarded panties and presses them to his nose. He takes a long inhale and groans, intoxicated by the scent of you.

He tucks them into his pocket then reaches over your hips.

His thumbs spread your folds and you want to close your legs, but he makes it impossible. His tongue darts out and licks a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit.

The sensation makes you jolt and Steve chuckles softly.

“Tell me what you like, Bunny. It won’t offend me. I wanna make you feel good.” You nod, grinding your teeth together and trying to clear the thoughts from your mind and focus on what he’s doing.

He finds your clit surprisingly easily, and you moan when he focuses his tongue on it.

“J-just like that... please...” He complies, working his tongue over the little bundle of nerves while two of his fingers slowly press into your heat.

You groan at the feeling, it being unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. His fingers fill you up more than ever, and he works them inside of you until he hits a spot that has you jolting up, right hand grabbing a handful of his hair.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper, eyes screwed shut as he massages that spot inside of you.

It’s all too much, and in a few moments, you’re cumming all over his face and his fingers.

“Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Oh my god.” Steve’s eyes find your face and he nearly cums in his pants.

The look of pure pleasure on your features is something he wishes he could take a picture of.

You look so fucking pretty when you cum.

He gently works you through your orgasm, pulling away only when your thighs start trembling. You open your eyes after a few more moments only to find him seated between your legs, pink lips glistening as he sucks your nectar off of his fingers.

“Holy fuck,” you repeat, one hand coming to your chest as you slowly catch your breath.

He chuckles softly, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

“C’mon. M’gonna fuck you on a bed, not on a couch.” He scoops you up in his arms and you wrap your legs around his waist, arms tightly wound around his neck as he carries you up the stairs to his bedroom.

It’s wrong. So fucking wrong, but it feels so good and you trust him so much.

You’re carefully laid on your back on his bed, the blankets cool against your hot skin. Steve kneels between your legs, hands resting on your hips while his eyes devour this image.

You bring your hands up to cover your chest, feeling nervous about being naked beneath him, but he shakes his head and gently takes your hands.

“Don’t hide from me, Bunny. You’re beautiful. Any man who gets to see you like this... is a fucking lucky one.” His eyes trace over your body, his words having lit a fire in his gut.

No other man is ever going to see you like this. He’ll make sure of that.

“C-can you take your clothes off? Please? I feel...” you trail off, embarrassed of both your nudity and your request.

“Of course, Bunny.” He leans back on his haunches and pulls his shirt over his head, giving you a glorious view of his rippling muscles.

Your stepbrother has an amazing body. That much you learned the very first time he took his shirt off to go swimming with you.

He climbs off the bed for a moment, just long enough to kick off his sweatpants and his boxers, and then he’s between your legs again.

You inhale sharply when your eyes find his cock, fear and arousal filling you.

“A-am I... do you want me to...” Your eyes don’t leave his length and he chuckles, one of his hands moving down to slowly stroke himself.

“I just want you to lay back and feel good, okay? It’s gonna hurt a bit, but you gotta relax. I’ll go slow.” You nod, hands instinctively coming to his shoulders as he scoots closer.

“If you’re really curious, I’ll teach you how to give head another day. But today is all about this.” The hot tip presses against your folds and you jump, wide eyes staring up at your step-brother.

“Now, when anyone else ever fucks you, make sure they wear a condom. But for your first time, I want you to get the full experience. It’ll feel better for you this way.” You nod, gripping his strong shoulders tightly as he leans down, hands pressing into the mattress on either side of your torso.

He slides his cock through your folds, watching intently as your eyelids drop and your mouth falls open.

“Feels nice, Bunny? Nice and warm?” You nod, a whimper falling from your lips as his cock rubs against your swollen clit.

He pulls back after a moment more to align himself, then slowly pushes his cock into you.

Your face scrunches up in pain and he stops immediately, pulling back and leaning down until his face is above your heat.

You hear him spit a moment before you feel the liquid splatter against you. He does it a few times and you feel slightly mortified.

“Don’t be shy, Bunny. I just gotta make sure you’re nice and wet. It’ll stop it from hurting as much.” You nod, keeping your eyes closed as he hovers over you again.

This time when he pushes in it doesn’t hurt nearly as much.

He pushes in slowly, his eyes focused on your face as he meets the band of resistance he was waiting for. He slowly pushes further, frowning when you wince and inhale sharply.

He doesn’t want to hurt you, but he has to.

When he’s finally bottomed out inside of you, you let out a big breath.

“Look, Bunny.” You open your eyes and follow his gaze down to where the two of you are connected, your pussy fluttering around him at the sight.

He’s fully sheathed inside of you, and your lower abdomen bulges slightly because of it.

“You’ve got all of my big cock in you. Your pretty pussy is taking me like a champ.” You stare down at where his cock disappears inside of you, a gasp falling from your lips when he pulls out a few inches, only to push it right back in.

“Once I start moving it’ll feel better. Whenever you’re ready, let me know.” You nod, closing your eyes and basking in the feeling of fulness. It’s like you’re finally getting something you didn’t know you needed.

He feels so hot and heavy inside of you, you want to keep him exactly where he is forever.

After a few more moments of adjusting to the intrusion, you open your eyes and lift one hand to cup his jaw.

His eyes snap to yours, a soft admiration clouding his beautiful blues.

You pucker your lips and he smiles, dropping his head and pressing a soft kiss to your lips while slowly starting to thrust.

His pace is slow and steady, pulling out nearly all the way then slowly pushing back in, each thrust stretching your walls further than the last.

“Fuck... you’re so fucking tight... feel so good, bunny.” Your nails dig into his shoulders as he gradually speeds up, each drag against your walls bringing you a type of pleasure you’ve only dreamed of.

“S-steve... feels... feels nice... so big...” You’re hardly making any sense but you speak anyway, toes curling as he speeds up even more.

His lips find your throat and you whine loudly, nails raking down his back.

“M’gonna go harder and faster, okay Bunny? You ready?” You nod, mouth dropping open as he hammers his hips forward, cock hitting places inside of you that make you see stars.

The noises coming from you nearly have him cumming hard, but he grinds his teeth together. He’s determined to make you cum first.

One of his hands darts between your legs, finding your clit and rubbing circles on it.

Your back arches hard, chest pressed tight against his as your eyes roll back into your head, an orgasm racing down your spine and exploding in your stomach.

Every nerve in your body is on fire, stars dance behind your eyes, and your cunt clamps down hard on Steve's cock.

The blond groans lowly, eyes squeezed shut as he falls into his own climax.

He fills you, white painting your walls and warming you from the inside.

The two of you stay like that, you trembling on the bed and Steve slowly starting to shake above you as his muscles threaten to give out.

After a moment he rolls onto his side, pulling you close to him to keep his cock locked inside of you.

His fingers trace along your spine, rubbing up and down so gently that it nearly lulls you to sleep.

“Fucking hell, bunny.” He presses his lips against your forehead, beyond satisfied with what just happened. You hum softly, nuzzling deeper against his chest.

He kicks the blankets up until they’re around his knees then pulls them up to cover the two of you.

You’re snuggled up against him, one of your legs tossed over his hip as his cock sits nice and snug inside of you.

“Thank you, Steve.” He’s quiet for a moment before hugging you tightly.

“Anything for you, Bunny.”