#THIS WAS GRUELLING OH MY GOD

[elizabethrobertajones]

One thing about all the multi-classing Frog does is something I explain by how if you pick up Conjurer early in your journey, and also Thaumaturge, they will put the fear of god in you about overdoing various magical aspects, and then WHM and BLM only make it worse.

So Frog, as a born Arcanist and nerd, carefully makes notes about every job and how its aether affects you and how much she has been using lately, and swaps out regularly to maintain a pristine internal environment, and goes RDM to sort out pretty much any health complaint the way you and I would reach for ibuprofen, on a sort of paranoid belief that using some earth aspected spells for a while will sort things out.

She grimly white-knuckled through Shadowbringers as Bard/Arcanist and then went and levelled Black Mage and Dark Knight, which had been languishing, to ward off any lingering symptoms, and now keeps in perfect practice with all her jobs (aka I am a nerd who has them all at 90) so nothing can ever catch her out like that again.

[chrollogy]

SILKEN WEB

— chrollo lucilfer x f!reader x hisoka morow

syn: Hisoka’s ‘generosity’ allows Chrollo to fuck you in front of him after he’s seen the way the latter has looked at you. Though, the redhead cannot help but join in on the fun despite being the cuck—he has his ways, he always does.

18+ MDNI; explicit smut, porn without plot, cuckolding, voyeurism, threesome, creampie unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (f & m), anal (f), masturbation (m), edging, overstimulation, hisoka uses bungee gum, chrollo might be pining over reader, not beta read.

word count: 2.8k

notes: divider: cafekitsune. the fruit of my late night thoughts nod nod. as per poll results, here’s hisoka as the cuck :3

Fantasizing—a children’s pastime, a mere way to escape from one’s gruelling reality but Chrollo Lucilfer would be lying to himself if he deemed he wasn’t immune to it. Oh, he certainly wasn’t without a doubt; the root of all his wildest dreams, and twisted carnal desires was none other than the woman beneath him, all in her serene nakedness—you.

So breathtakingly exquisite—the epitome of beauty. From the lust-clouded gaze that complimented the colour of your eyes all the way to the dulcet tone of your breaths, this was sinful heaven for Chrollo. Sinful not because of the sharp pleasure kissing down his spine but simply because you weren’t his, and he wasn’t yours. Not lovers, not friends, mere acquaintances, and your heart was reserved for none other than a member of the Troupe he led.

But that never stopped Chrollo from fantasizing about you, about this. Ever the observant fighter, it didn’t take long for Hisoka to catch the former’s lingering stares on you—albeit, as blank as a sheet of paper—whenever he paraded you around. One of the biggest telling signs was that Chrollo had never uttered a word regarding your presence whenever you sat there during their meetings despite the other members’ dismay.

Of course, once something piqued Hisoka’s curiosity, he wouldn’t let go until a solid answer was handed to him on a silver platter. It was a short exchange between the two males, a few sharp retorts from Hisoka’s end but nonetheless, it led to this lewd scene. Per the magician’s words, he gave Chrollo permission to do whatever he pleased to you—to fuck, to make love, to get lost in eye-rolling pleasure within your very walls but only if he got to watch everything unfold.

From the intimate act of undressing, and peeling of clothes all the way to a passionate climax that was sure to vex his very bones, Hisoka was to watch it all.

Faint squeaks of the bed frame paired with yours, and Chrollo’s heated gasps filled every corner of the room; his thrusts were deep, and rapid, body intimately flushed against your own which absolutely left no room for coherent words to come out—with the way his cockhead repeatedly prodded your sweet spot, strings of broken whimpers, and low moans were the best you could muster.

Sex wasn’t something you were foreign with but the ungodly rhythm of Chrollo’s hips was enough to make you feel like a virgin again begging for more, more, more, nothing but pleasure engrained inside your mind, clawing, and running after that blissful sensation.

Chrollo was different from Hisoka, he handled you with the utmost gentleness but that didn’t take away the fact that he pounded you oh-so-passionately into the ivory mattress beneath. On the other hand, Hisoka was rough, and animalistic—purely driven by his wild carnal desires. 

Chrollo’s sweat-lined forehead rested against yours, face mere centimetres from your own as your breaths intertwined in a vulgar dance. The hearts of his palms captured your trembling hands in a firm hold, pinning them on either side of your head, and used as leverage to drive his cock deeper into your sopping cunt—as deep as his desires went for you.

He closed his eyes at the feel of your walls clenching around him, jaw tightening as electric pleasure shot up his spine, “F-fuck . .” God, you felt divine, Chrollo truly wanted to keep you to himself. He could treat you so much better than Hisoka—have you reach new heights of pleasure you’ve never experienced before.

Alas, that was out of the picture, Chrollo would have to settle for the mere intimacy of fucking you beneath these ivory covers, the same ones you, and Hisoka retire under after a long, tiring day. The duvet draped loosely across Chrollo’s back, mirroring a broken angel’s wings, and with the eager thrusts of his hips, it slowly slipped downwards. It was hot, and stuffy beneath the weight of the blanket but he’d do anything to keep the lewd intimacy from a pair of prying eyes.

That’s right, Hisoka sat on a chair not too far off the foot of the bed, an unamused expression plastered on his face but the growing tent between his spreaded legs hinted far from unamused.

Sure, the pornographic sounds bouncing off the walls had his cock hardening but Hisoka was deprived. He clicked his tongue, the sharp sound was enough to reel Chrollo out of his pleasured state followed by a stutter in his thrusts. “I’m glad you’re having fun, Chrollo but I said to give me a show, didn’t I?” What was Hisoka supposed to do with your bodies tucked beneath the covers? 

His view was nothing but the top half of Chrollo’s naked back, and the covers moving along with the latter’s thrusts, other than that, it left everything to Hisoka’s imagination. Of course, he wasn’t going to let it be, not after he generously let Chrollo fuck you like this.

With a swift flick of his index finger, the rubbery bright pink aura extended from the tip of his digit all the way to the ivory covers atop Chrollo’s naked back, attaching itself onto the fabric. A smirk crept its way up to Hisoka’s face as he pulled the covers down, exposing the way your naked bodies intimately tangled with one another.

A rather surprised gasp left your lips as the cool air hugged your fervent body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Naturally, this had also caught Chrollo off guard but didn’t let on, instead, the raven haired male responded by drilling his hips at a much faster pace, pulling a string of broken moans from your throat which only fuelled the excitement embedded in Hisoka’s chest.

Light amber eyes fixated where you and Chrollo met, Hisoka intently watched as the former’s cock disappeared, and reappeared between your coated slit—not to mention the light sheen of your essence around Chrollo’s cock, causing it to glimmer beneath the afternoon rays that seeped through the windows. Now, this was what Hisoka wanted to see—you, and Chrollo all in your filthy glory.

The feeling of blood rapidly rushing down to his cock, and the familiar tingle between his legs made Hisoka’s citrine gaze roll back, not to mention the growing delight on his face—it was anything but an innocent look. Lewd, wet sounds that were once muffled beneath the ivory duvet now reached Hisoka’s ears like an unholy melody; the constant skin slapping, the mixture of high, and low moans—the impurity of it all, your lover revelled in it.

Sounds of the redhead’s shameless pornographic moans intertwined with your own, and Chrollo’s as he teased himself through the fabric of his pants. Excitement shocked every part of his body like electricity, rendering him sensitive to anything, and everything—it was the same sensation as the extreme bloodlust he felt whenever he thirsted for battle.

Chrollo quietly clicked his tongue, not bothering to glance back at Hisoka in annoyance. He needed to focus on you. And he did. Without compromising the pace of his hips, Chrollo hooked his fingers beneath the back of your right knee, and deftly slung your whole leg atop his shoulder. The deeper angle of his cock had your back arching, your hands scrambled for his taut biceps to claw, and dig into as he pushed you further, and further into the borders of insanity.

“C-Chrollo! Fuck—right there! Just like that—haah!”

He let out a low groan as your nails marked him up, leaving streaks of bright red on his skin. By the looks of it, he wasn’t going to last much longer with the way your cunt gripped him like a vice. Nonetheless, Chrollo’s pace didn’t let up despite the resistance of your walls, albeit, it had his legs quivering, and breath hitching—god, Hisoka was so fucking lucky to have this, to have you.

Chrollo closed his eyes, and parted his lips to make way for soft pants, he focused his entire body in chasing yours, and his pleasure, basking in the ultimate bliss his body was currently experiencing.

Yes. Yes. Ye—

“She likes—haah! She likes taking it from behind—ngh!” The raven haired male shot his eyes open at the sound of Hisoka’s wanton voice, the concentration he once held faltering just a bit from the sudden noise.

Despite Chrollo’s better judgement, he hauled you into the position like a mere ragdoll, deftly handling your limp body with equal amounts of roughness, and gentleness. Though, your arms violently shook, and gave out as soon as Chrollo re-entered your cunt. With your torso flush against the ivory sheets, your lower half remained in position—easier for him to drive his cock deeper; you swore you could feel him in your throat.

The redhead let out a low chuckle, eager hands messily pulling his pants down to free his hard cock; Hisoka sighed at the lack of restraint, and threw his head back, exposing the length of his neck. 

With the new position, Chrollo returned to the pace he had set earlier, heavy balls slapping against your clit from each hard thrust. Skin against skin burned like a searing blaze but god did it feel amazing, not to mention how it stimulated your sensitive bud in all the right ways.

Chrollo curled over himself to place wet open-mouthed kisses down the length of your spine, moaning low saccharine praises in between. He pushed, and pushed into your sopping cunt until the coil deep in your stomach violently snapped. With a loud moan of his name muffled against the damp sheets, your back arched as you came around Chrollo—muscles taut, and knuckles a shade of ivory while pleasure gnawed at your skin.

Hisoka unabashedly fisted at his cock, one hand focused on pleasuring himself while the other sunk into the plush of the armchair. He matched the pace of his hand to Chrollo’s hips, imagining that it was your cunt instead of his palm, albeit, your velvety walls absolutely compared to nothing. Oh well, he’ll get a taste of you one way or another.

It didn’t take long for Chrollo to follow suit, driving his hips a couple more times before completely pulling out, and blowing his entire load on your bare back. He let out a shameless moan of your name—the loudest one he’s let out. Thick, milky ribbons of Chrollo’s cum unceremoniously painted your skin white, and all he could do was stare at it in a haze while his chest heaved up, and down.

On the other hand, Hisoka gave himself a few more rough pumps before squeezing the base of his leaking cock, lustily letting out a hiss as the pleasure he’d worked so hard for slowly dissipated. He cursed in between rough pants—the hunger for a sweet release just grew tenfold after depriving himself of an orgasm.

Hisoka had something better in mind than cumming on his hand.

“I guess it’s my turn.” Strong, muscular legs slightly quivered with every step taken towards the bed, cock standing proudly against his abdomen. Chrollo only narrowed his eyes at Hisoka, clearly displeased by his sudden initiative.

The former returned a smile, “Oh, don’t get greedy now, Chrollo. I’ll give you two choices—” He held out two long digits. “Either you sit, and watch or join in on the fun.”

Never in a million years would Chrollo even think to engage in a threesome with you, and Hisoka. He didn’t know what bothered him more, the fact that you were the latter’s lover or the fact that he was on the same bed as Hisoka. Nonetheless, here he was balls deep inside your ass, completely unhindered by inhibitions. Hisoka cursed at the feel of your wet cunt, biting his lips at the lewd sound it made as your hot cum coated his cock.

The redhead laid flat on his back, cunt wrapped around him while you straddled his lap which left Chrollo to take care of your backside. Your body remained slumped against Hisoka’s—limp, and quivering as if one wrong move would have you exploding to bits. Could you really blame yourself? Both men stretched you out like it was their sole purpose, it did nothing but put your body under immense pleasure.

You were sandwiched between Hisoka, and Chrollo as though mimicking a mere fly caught in a spider’s silken web, unable to escape. And that usually meant one thing: to wait for one’s impending doom before the ruthless arachnid strikes.

An experimental thrust of their hips had you wailing in pleasure. Having not given enough time to come down from your high, you were still too sensitive—any form of sexual stimulation immediately had your body uncontrollably shaking, and hot tears lining your eyes. Hisoka cupped your jaw with both hands, lifting your face in front of his own before closing the distance; heated, and rough just how he liked it; the redhead didn’t hesitate shoving his tongue past your lips, intimately exploring the inside of your mouth with the wet muscle.

If anything, the messy kiss was enough to distract you from the sudden rough pistoning of their hips—Hisoka gleefully swallowed your wanton moans, and relished at the burning sensation of your nails scratching down his bare chest. The bed creaked under the weight of their merciless thrusts with the headboard atop Hisoka’s head repeatedly banging the wall behind it; these sounds mixed with the lewd melody the three of you produced filled all four corners of the room.

It was funny, anyone would think that a Hisoka, and Chrollo tandem would be a match made in hell; highly volatile once paired together which would result in utter chaos but this—the two moved in perfect unison as though they shared one mind, one ideal. Even only if it was for this moment that they saw one another eye to eye, a wordless union to bring you to another orgasm.

A thin, translucent string of saliva connected your lips to Hisoka’s as he pulled away for a breather, hot breaths mingling with one another as you panted in eachother's face. A sense of pride bloomed across his crimson-marked chest as he watched your lust-filled eyes roll to the back of your head—Hisoka always had a thing for your expressions during sex, it served as fuel to keep going, to keep fucking you.

You looked beautiful bouncing on their cocks, head falling forward while taking their entire length like a champ; the only thing you could really do was grip onto Hisoka’s shoulders, and moan for your dear life. Chrollo couldn’t help but fixate on the way your ass jolted with every thrust, even just the sight of his cock disappearing, and reappearing between the globes of your ass had his head spinning.

It didn’t take long for you to reach yet another orgasm, and this time, it was more intense than the previous one; hot tears ran down your damp cheeks as your body convulsed from pleasure, a drawn out moan of their names combined scratched at your throat. As though he was punched in the gut, Chrollo curled over himself as you clenched around his cock, and attached his lips on your right shoulder, biting down hard at the bare skin.

Hisoka muttered sweet nothings while stroking your hair, amusement filling his tone; you laid there drowning in pleasure while both men remained chasing their own bliss, hips stuttering. It was filthy, and soaking wet where Chrollo, and Hisoka entered you, arousal mixed with your cum messily dripping down the latter’s balls, and onto the sheets beneath.

Chrollo’s digits dug into your skin, he sheathed his cock all the way inside your ass before emptying all his cum inside; he rode out his orgasm by grinding his hips, earning a dainty gasp of his name. Chrollo violently shuddered before releasing your skin from his teeth, he lapped, and kissed at the marks, helping ease the painful sensation he left.

This left Hisoka to firmly plant his feet on the mattress, and thrust upwards which sent your body bouncing once more; short gasps turned into full blown wanton moans as his cockhead repeatedly kissed your sweet spot, bringing your body into overstimulation. Hisoka groaned loudly as the familiar feeling at the pit of his stomach returned, you could tell he was close from the way his fingers gripped your waist with such desperation.

Strings of colourful curses left your lover’s throat as he came inside you, ribbons of his thick essence filling your walls all the way to the brim ‘til it leaked out, and dripped down his balls.

Heavy pants filled the room, the smell of sinful sex hung heavy in the air. The three of you remained still for a moment to catch your breaths but the short time also allowed your minds to clear of lust, and for the whole situation to actually settle in—of what the three of you just did.

Though, it was safe to say that Chrollo wasn’t going to let you escape from his hold any time soon—as though he had you entangled in bands of swathing silk—especially after finally getting a taste of you.

—

affiliated with @houseofsolisoccasum & @pixelcafe-network !

[evansbby]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark!Steve Rogers x naive!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: VERY DARK ELEMENTS, noncon, extremely rough smut, daddy kink, captain kink, age gap (Steve is very into the age gap), MAJOR size kink, no seriously Steve is HUGE, misogyny, loss of virginity, mentions of blood (heavy mentions), mean Steve (seriously, he has no soul and is very mean, honestly unhinged), anal play, oral (f receiving), innocence kink, naive reader, 18+ ONLY, NO MINORS. MINORS DNI.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Even Captain America deserves a reward after an intense, grueling mission.

𝐀/𝐍: Here we go! 16.3k words. Written very quickly. Not edited so please be forgiving. Also I don't have much knowledge on Shield and all that, so yeah! Final warning to PLEASE read the warnings! Anyways, enjoy!

“The girl’s ready, Captain.”

Steve nods at the SHIELD agent tersely, “She’s in my room?”

“Yes, sir. And all your specifications have been followed.”

“Good. You’re dismissed.”

The agent bows his head before leaving the office, and Steve finds himself pacing. He often paced after gruelling missions, as if trying to get all the leftover adrenaline out. Tonight had been particularly challenging; a local university under threat from HYDRA. Thousands of screaming staff and students, the air painted with gunshots and screams of chaos. But Steve’s team had come to the rescue. Just like they always did.

His team all had different ways of dealing with it, the trauma and evil they saw every day. Clint had his family to go home to, and some middle-of-nowhere farmhouse that Steve would’ve found quaint if he’d given more of a fuck. Tony’s solution was alcohol – copious amounts of it. And maybe that would’ve been Steve’s fate too, stumbling out of a bar at three in the morning having no idea where he was, but of course, he had the serum to thank for avoiding him that. Natasha immersed herself in her friends, Sam partied a lot, Bruce locked himself up in his lab because God knew he was wrestling more demons than anyone else. Except maybe Bucky… But even Bucky had a girl to help him cope.

That left Steve. But Steve had this.

I deserve this. He thinks it to himself as he makes his way out of his office and down the hall toward the elevator. There are SHIELD agents scattered here and there, chattering mindlessly about the successful mission and how, thanks to the Avengers, there were no civilian deaths. But they all hush when they see him, parting like the Red Sea, their heads bowed in respect as he walks past them. The Captain. The hero. Their leader. He’s still in his suit, the shield still on his back and bloodied cuts decorating his face. Nevertheless, he’s the face of the Avengers. Everyone in this building looks up to him.

Everyone on the face of this Earth looks up to him.

And a few minutes later, when he gets off the elevator and to his private floor, walks over to his bedroom door and opens it, he finds a large pair of eyes looking up at him too.

You jump, the fear on your face so evident that Steve can almost smell it. Standing in the corner of his room as if you want to permeate through the wall or maybe disappear altogether. Your arms hug your body in a bid to hide it from whoever you thought was going to enter this room, but you seem to relax once you see that it’s him.

“C-Captain, it’s you! Oh, thank God!” Your shoulders sag in relief, although – much to Steve’s displeasure – you continue to cover your body with your arms, “I-I don’t know what happened, but there’s some bad people here, and they took me while I was being evacuated from the university, a-and they brought me here and they wouldn’t answer my questions and–”

Steve frowns as you drone on and on, talking about a mile a minute – a quality he doesn’t particularly care for in a woman. But his eyes drink you nevertheless. You look young – a college student, no doubt – but he finds he doesn’t mind that. In fact, it makes his cock harden, seeing how wide-eyed and naïve you look, a lot younger than him. A pretty face, and an attractive body too despite the fact that you seemed hell bent on hiding it from him.

“Put your arms down by your side.” He commands you, watching closely as you stop mid-sentence, your voice trailing off. He can tell you’re uncomfortable, confused, and probably tired out from fighting and arguing with his agents. But he knows already what’s going through your mind: that you’ll obey because it’s Captain America, and Captain America was a hero who always meant well. Hesitantly, slowly, your arms fall down to your sides.

Steve had very specific tastes, and his agents knew to follow his instructions to a tee. Which was why you stood before him, your body sheathed in the prettiest, most expensive vintage lingerie. All lacy and intricate, just how Steve liked it – white and silky, hugging your body like a second skin and accentuating your curves, making you look like half angel, half seductress. He’d long ago, in a different lifetime, pored over old pin-up magazines, just like any other boy his age would. He’d likened the white lingerie in the pictures to be what his innocent bride would wear the night he deflowered her. Back in the forties, back when he’d been a different man, a man who actually cared about trivial things like marriage and family. Years of war and fighting had beaten that out of him.

And yet, almost a century later, Steve still has a partiality for white, lacy lingerie.

After every mission (successful or not) SHIELD would bring him a girl in vintage lingerie. Always an unsuspecting girl who had no idea what she was being pulled into. They came in all sorts of varieties; crying, kicking, screaming, paralysed in fear when they realised the reason they were in his bedroom. But Steve deserved it, for every single sacrifice he’d made for his country, for the world – he deserved this one bit of pleasure. Bucky had his girl, Sam had his parties, Tony had his alcohol, Bruce had his lab… And Steve had this.

And it was the least you could do, the least all those girls before you could do, because hadn’t Steve saved you? Saved all of you? This was his payment. You were his reward.

“C-Captain?” He notices how you can’t help but stutter, and he finds it amusing despite the fact that he’s used to having this effect on women – especially immature college girls like you. You gesture down to your body, “Th-This isn’t how I was dressed – they put me in this, those bad guys! N-Now I don’t know where my clothes are, and, and…”

Once more, your voice trails off as Steve walks past you nonchalantly. He heads to the bathroom, making sure to leave the door open so he can keep an eye on you lest you try to escape. Not that you’d get very far – this whole floor was his and every lock required his facial recognition to open. In the past, other girls had tried to escape, and sometimes Steve enjoyed the chase. But tonight, he felt tense. He’d wanted to capture all the HYDRA agents but two of them had escaped. To Steve, that was failure, and failure made him tense. Angry. Frustrated. He needed someone submissive, obedient, quiet…

“C-Captain, I’m gonna be okay, aren’t I?” You ask, voice high-pitched and shaky, and Steve almost smirks. He stands in front of the sink, surveying the scratches on his face. They’d heal overnight, and once more he’d be the perfect face of the Avengers. The face of America. The face of hope, the face of good. If only they knew what went on behind his eyes, the thoughts he thought, the darkness behind the façade.

He washes his hands, observing the blood as it swirls down the drain of the sink.

“Sir… Captain… Is there a way I could call my family? They’ll be worried about me, and those people took my phone so I don’t–”

“Get on the bed.”

“H-Huh?”

“Get on the bed. I won’t repeat myself.”

Steve’s voice is soft, levelled, yet commanding. And he knows you’ll listen. He’s been over this with so many of the other girls brought in for him as a post-mission reward. You still trust him, he can see it in your eyes. You know him as the superhero you see on TV, where he’s all clean-cut and politically correct as he commands the hearts of millions through his motivational speeches and actions. And by the looks of it, you’re so naïve that he knows you haven’t yet figured out what “get on the bed” truly infers to.

And so you do, gingerly settling down on the edge of his king-sized bed, shaking like a little leaf but he can tell that you’re trying to keep a brave face as you look up at him, determined to trust the super-soldier that the whole country trusted. And breaking that trust, breaking that spirit that shone in your innocent eyes, that was the sweet release he needed tonight, or any other night after each mission made him grow more disillusioned. Breaking your trust, breaking your body so all of this was worth it.

Sometimes, Steve wonders when exactly he had changed. He remembers how plucky and optimistic he used to be. A little bit sardonic, a little bit sarcastic, but he really did have a heart of gold – at least that’s what people told him. Even after they’d dug him out from that iceberg, he’d still been that same guy. But that was years ago, and each day he grew more disillusioned with what he preached, what he stood for. He could never settle, never feel like he fully belonged in the world he kept risking his life to save over and over again. Even Bucky, who’d gone through so much, had managed to find fulfilment through finding love.

Steve, on the other hand, doesn’t think love exists.

What does exist is you… Sweet, quivering, innocent little you. The SHIELD agents know his tastes down to a tee, and physically, you’re everything he likes, everything he prefers. It’s nights like these when Steve really feels alive, when he snuffs out the innocence of some unsuspecting girl and reaps his reward for saving countless lives. He deserves this. God knows he deserves this.

“What’re you doing?” You whisper, eyes round as saucers as he reaches out to stroke your hair. He bristles slightly, annoyed by your persistant questions. You should know better – he was your superior after all. But you’d learn by the time the night was over, and so Steve resumes petting you, slipping his hand down to rub your cheek, feel your smooth skin under the rough callouses of his hand.

The same hand that had choked two or three HYDRA bastards to death earlier tonight.

“You will address me as Captain.” He says, dismantling his shield from his back and placing it on the floor against the bed. He follows your gaze, how your mouth drops open in awe despite how scared you are. His cock hardens, knowing you’re impressed by him. By his size, because he’s aware he looks even bigger in person than on the news – enough girls have told him that. And by the shield too, because it reflected his power, his status, everything that he supposedly stood for.

You clear your throat nervously, “S-Sorry, uh, Captain, I just, uh, I was wondering when you’d take me home,” you say the last few words quickly, as if you’re mouth’s dry and you’re rushing to get all your words out. “I n-need to get home, my parents will be worried about me, Captain, and I have homework–”

Steve almost snorts at that. Homework. You were even more innocent than he thought you were, if one of your biggest concerns was whether you’d get your homework done or not. And this naivete amuses him, enamours him, but most importantly, it gets him hard.

“You’ll be taken home tomorrow.” He informs you, his tone clipped and formal, clinical like a doctor informing his patient when they’d be discharged. He liked to keep it like that between him and his “rewards.” Steve didn’t believe in intimacy, and didn’t feel the need to waste kindness on you or any of the previous girls. He faked kindness and heroic optimism all day, it was only at night in the privacy of his quarters that he could shed all that away and allow his darkness to take over.

“T-Tomorrow? Why? Why not tonight? And why am I here, anyways? Everyone else was evacuated together!”

“Enough.” He says sternly, and you shrink back like a chastised child, or an injured puppy. He watches your lower lip as it juts out, and he wonders if you’ve done that on purpose as a way to appease him. He wouldn’t fall for it though, he was wise to women and all their cheap tricks they used to wrap weaker, lesser men around their fingers. Steve would never be one of those men. “You will not speak unless I give you permission.”

Your lower lip quivers, “I don’t understand…”

He sits down next to you, acutely aware of how much bigger he is than you. Leisurely, his eyes drink in your body now that he’s much closer to you. The bra pushes your breasts upwards so they spill out attractively over the creamy white lace of the lingerie, and he watches them rise up and down as you breathe heavily, probably trying to keep yourself from crying. He wishes you would cry – tears have always turned him on. But the night is young, and he knows he’ll see some tears soon, he always does.

“C-Captain, please, please help me! I’m so confused and I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t know how I got into this outfit, I think they drugged me, and I’m scared, and I have homework, and I gotta go now, so pl– OW!”

Steve yanks you forward by your hair, till your face is inches from his, and he can practically smell your fear. Eyes as big as saucers look up at him, shining bright with unshed tears of both fear and pain. He loosens his grip slightly, despite the fact he isn’t holding you too tightly – but the serum gives him inhumane strength, and you’re just a weak little girl after all.

“Once again, I’m telling you not to speak without permission. Do not make me repeat myself one more time.”

You swallow harshly, bowing your head once he lets go of your hair. But your lips are now pressed tightly together, as if you’re hoping he’ll take you home if you shut up and listen. There’s still light in your eyes, you’re beginning to question him inwardly but you still trust him, Steve knows you do. And it’s not long now before he crushes that trust completely.

He sighs at your compliance, stroking your quivering bare arm, thrill shooting straight down to his cock because of how soft and smooth you are. He likes the juxtaposition between the two of you right now: you, so soft and small, so much younger than him, like a doll in your pretty lingerie that he’d picked out. And him, more than double your size, jaded with age that didn’t physically show, bloodied and scratched suit, rough hands, dark thoughts.

“C-Captain, I’m scared,” you whisper, and you really do look like you’re about to wet yourself, and it turns him on so much that he doesn’t even bristle at you speaking out of turn again.

“Good.” He murmurs, continuing to stroke you like you’re his little doll. There’s something about you, something so pure that he can’t really put his finger on. In the past, he’s been detached, unforgiving, often just throwing his “reward” on the bed, holding her head down against the mattress while he fucked the living daylights out of her. He would be detached and cold with you too, but this time he feels a peculiar need to savour you at the same time.

It's when he grabs your hand and places it on his hard crotch that you start crying in earnest, finally realising your fate.

“What’re you– No, please, not that! Please, I don’t know what’s going on, Captain, please–”

You try to snatch your hand back, but he holds it steadily in place. You’d never be a match for his strength, no matter how hard you tried – he had more brute power in his pinkie finger than you did in your whole body. And that turns him on even more.

“You’ll go home tomorrow,” he repeats, not even sure why he’s explaining anything to you, because he usually doesn’t speak to the girls brought for him at all, let alone reassure them. “Tomorrow, you’ll see your family but tonight, your body is mine and I’ll do with it what I please.”

You look like you’ve seen a ghost, but quickly you shake your head, blinking rapidly as if you’ve misheard him. “N-No, Captain, I don’t want to! Y-You can’t make me,” you look at him pleadingly, trying to tug your hand back but he holds it firmly against his covered cock, “You won’t make me, will you, Captain? Th-That’s wrong! An’ you’re a good man so you’d never do that!”

“Take it out.”

A different man would have perhaps consoled you, told you it would all be over soon, or maybe even made up an excuse to manipulate you into sleeping with him. A better man would’ve taken pity on you, given you your clothes back and taken you home. But Steve wasn’t like any of those men. All Steve was right now was impatient, and more than ready for his reward. I deserve it, he thinks once more to himself, before pressing your small hand down on his crotch meaningfully.

“Take my dick out.” He repeats sternly, and when you still don’t comply (probably because you’re frozen in shock and fear) Steve can’t help but quickly undo his fly before pushing your hand down his suit pants, letting out a hiss when he feels your dainty palm and fingers on his rock-hard flesh.

“No, no, no, please no,” you cry softly, rivulets of tears streaking your face, “This is wrong, Captain, please.”

He makes you wrap your hand around his cock, smirking to himself when your fingers don’t even come close to wrapping around all the way. The serum had made him a lot bigger than average, and a lot thicker too. So much so that every time he had sex, no matter how much he stretched the girls out, there would always be blood. He’d grown to become turned on by the sight of it.

“I’ve seen you on TV,” you whisper desperately, and he knows you’re in that state of mind where you’re just so scared that you’ll say anything and everything, “I’ve seen how you are, a-and you’re supposed to be the good guy, Captain. Please, let me go, y-you’re a good man so please–”

“Shut up.” He says simply, making you take his dick out. That quietens you up for a second, and you gape at his huge dick as it slaps up against his abs which are still covered by the suit. He hasn’t had sex or jacked off in about a week now (missions, press conferences, community work and other bullshit had kept him busy) and his dick is almost angry hard, the veins so prominent as he throbs in your hand.

“Stroke it.” He instructs you.

You shake your head, hand limp around his hard cock, “You c-can’t, this is wrong.”

“Drop the coy act,” he orders you, feeling a surge of impatience when he’s tried to be level with you for so long, “I know what you kids watch these days on the internet, and all the vulgar movies on television. Now do what I fucking say, or else.”

You look both taken aback and hurt by his sharper tone, and immediately you’re shaking your head.

“N-No, Sir, please. I don’t watch any of that stuff, I’m not allowed to, okay? A-And this is wrong on so many levels, you’re meant to be a good guy!”

Steve finds his cock hardening even more when he hears how you’re not allowed to watch the vulgarity that’s become so normalised in the media now as compared to back in the day. Were you, perhaps, a girl with morals? Someone who was raised well? He had yet to run in to such a girl in the twenty-first century.

“I’ve seen you on the news,” you try again when he doesn’t speak, “you and the Avengers, you’ve saved c-countless people. You’ve won wars for us. I w-went to see you when you gave a talk at my school last year, the one about good versus evil. You’re an inspiration, Captain, you wouldn’t do this!”

You’re talking a mile a minute, and Steve knows you’re doing it to prolong time till your inevitable fate. He’s tortured enough men to know that goners loved to run their mouths. As for what you’re saying, it has zero effect on him. He didn’t believe in what he said, what he stood for – you could never use that to persuade him to take a higher road.

He starts moving your hand up and down on his dick, hissing again because of how pleasurable your dainty hand feels on his rock-hard length, not to mention how much it turns him on that you’re still trying to pull your hand away, looking anywhere but at his cock, embarrassment mixing with the bone-chilling fear on your face.

“Y-You’re not a good man!” you finally sob out, shaking from head to toe as realisation finally seeps through your head.

Your words bristle Steve for whatever reason. In the past, his “rewards” have often back-talked him, insulted him as if they thought their words would have any impact on him – which they never did. But seeing you, with your bright, optimistic eyes that clearly looked up to him up until this moment, hearing you call him a bad guy… It makes him feel defensive.

“I saved you.” He spits out, “HYDRA attacked your university and I saved you and all your little friends. You’d be dead if it weren’t for me.”

You nod desperately, “I-I know, Captain, that’s why I don’t understand why you’re doing thi–”

“I deserve this.” He says simply, cutting you off. “I risk my life to save unthankful people like you, over and over again. Even a super soldier deserves payment, or at least an incentive to do what I do.”

Your jaw drops open, speechless and horrified. Steve couldn’t care less, and he feels another wave of impatience. Two weeks ago, he’d endured a similarly gruelling mission, and his reward had been waiting for him in his room. She’d been mouthy, of course, as most women of the twenty-first century were, but he’d fucked her and sent her packing within fifteen minutes. So why, on this particular occasion, was he sitting here making idle chit-chat with some dumb-witted college girl who was half his age?

He's always been quick, and you yelp in surprise when he grabs you by the waist, his rough fingers digging into your soft skin. He drags you into his lap, till you’re crying on top of him, your back to his chest. You struggle and flail against him, but it’s to no avail as he presses you down on top of his thigh, spreading your legs and locking them with his own.

“Stop struggling,” he orders you through gritted teeth, although he has to admit that having a weak girl like you fighting against him with all her might while he held you down with just his one arm was quite arousing, “It’ll be easier for you if you just stay still.”

“Please don’t, I-I’m not ready for this, I’ve never done this before, I–”

Steve snorts at that. He knows you’re young, but he also knows that girls in this century are promiscuous, and that’s putting it kindly. How many lies would you tell before you realised they’d all be in vain? He was goddamned Captain America, and he was going to have his way with you tonight no matter what came out of that pretty, pouty mouth of yours.

Grabbing your soft, bare thighs with his hands, he pushes them further apart, all while you cry and quiver in his arms like a wounded animal. Your white, lacy panties hide your pussy from his greedy, impatient gaze, and he wants nothing more than to rip your lingerie apart and ravage you to soothe the ache of his hard cock which is currently pressing against your back.

“Push your panties aside.” He commands, “and don’t even think about arguing with me. One more word of insubordination out of you, and you don’t even want to know what I’ll do.”

You’re sobbing and sobbing as you gingerly do what he says, and he licks his lips when he sees your bare pussy, trussed out for him as he holds your legs apart. He can’t help but press a finger on your bundle of nerves before swiping downwards over your slit. He frowns. You’re not wet. That simply won’t do.

Of course, he’s been in this situation before. Not often, because truthfully, women got wet the second they looked at him, turned on by his size, his power, his authority. But sometimes, like now, when one of his “rewards” was very scared and non-compliant, she wouldn’t be wet. Steve didn’t care, and he’d go in dry if he could except, with the sheer size of his dick, it just wasn’t physically possible. Often, he’d tell the SHIELD agents to prep his rewards before they were sent to his room – stretch their pussies out by whatever means (he didn’t care) so long as they were able to take his girth.

But you… Oh, he reckons he’ll have fun with stretching you out all by himself.

“Touch yourself.” He says into your ear, holding you in place tightly.

“I…I…I don’t know how, I don’t– I don’t do this, I’ve never done this, I–”

There’s something about your frightened demeanour that makes him realise that maybe you’re not lying after all. He raises a brow, “You’ve never touched yourself?”

“N-No, Sir – I mean Captain – I’m not allowed to. My parents are very conservative, Sir, I haven’t even had my first kiss. Please don’t make me do this!”

Steve didn’t think it was possible for his dick to get any harder, but it does. So big and painfully hard, it presses against your back almost indecently as he licks his lips, now infinitely more interested in you. So you were a girl raised right in these godforsaken “modern” times. His mind conjures up different ways in which he could teach you, mould you, ruin you… He doesn’t remember the last time he had a virgin – it was probably back in the forties, back when women were pure and of good heart and good intentions.

Maybe tonight’s reward would be sweeter than any other.

He grabs your hand, pressing it against your petal-soft folds. He takes your pointer finger and slowly, gently, circles it around your clit. You fight against him but it only takes you a few seconds to realise that your efforts are completely futile. Steve does not care for what you want, not in the least. You’re his reward, and he deserves this.

He leaves your finger on your clit, shooting you a deathly look that conveys that you better keep circling it or else. His own eager fingers explore your core, slipping down to probe you, finding that not even one of his fingers fits inside your little fuckhole. In fact, he tries pushing his pinkie finger up inside but to no avail at all. Fuck. You weren’t lying – you were definitely a virgin. Another telltale sign is how it only takes a handful of seconds before your wetness begins to spread, and you whimper softly – probably at all the foreign sensations you’re feeling as Steve continues to probe your hole.

“Feels good, huh?” Steve hears himself say softly, and he doesn’t know why he’s bothering wasting words on you. He never spoke to any of his other rewards – they were only there for his pleasure, and may as well have been inanimate objects to him. Dolls brought in for him to use and then promptly taken away when he was done with them. But you? Fuck, Steve doesn’t know what’s come over him.

“I-It won’t fit, Captain, please stop,” you cry softly when he tries to force his finger into you again. You’re adequately wet now, but your pussy continues to reject his finger, and he knows there’s no way you’ll be able to take his dick if he doesn’t stretch you out with his fingers first.

“I’ll make it fit,” he mutters, throwing you aside on the bed and standing up quickly. He sucks his finger into his mouth, tasting your sweetness and shutting his eyes for a second to savour your taste. And then he shoots you a warning look, “Stay there.”

He smirks when you don’t move an inch – probably paralysed with fear – as he walks over to the dresser next to his bed. Rummaging through his drawers, he sorts past all the sex toys that some agent had probably stocked up inside. Steve didn’t have much use for them, as he considered himself too traditional for toys. But he can’t help but be turned on by the idea of using a large dildo on you, or stuffing your virgin ass with a cute plug. But for right now, he grabs the bottle of lube – it’s half empty because of how often he’s had to use it on his past partners. Since the serum, his dick was way too big to go in naturally, especially when it came to a sweet virgin like you.

Roughly, he pushes you down till your back is pressed against his king-sized mattress. He climbs on top of you, rolling his eyes at the fight left in you, how you flail and fight against him despite his body being more than twice your size. He uses his arm to hold you down, but truthfully, he could’ve done it with just his pinkie finger.

“Stay still,” he commands, pinning your limbs down flat against the bed. You resort to sniffling and crying silently, your wary eyes watching him as he spreads your legs as wide as they’ll go. A sudden feral urge takes over him, and he rips your panties in half, the flimsy material landing gracefully on his sheets. Your bare pussy glistens up at him, now wet with your sweet cream despite how much you continue to cry. He can smell your sexy aroma; the scent of a virgin pussy and it goes straight to his dick.

With an animalistic snarl, he dips his head down between your legs. Using two fingers to spread your creamy petals, he lays his tongue flat against your quivering fuckhole. You scream in shock, body jerking underneath him but he doesn’t care. He grips your thighs, lifting your ass and lower back up off the bed, watching carnally as your wetness drips down to between your ass crack. He spreads your cheeks, smirking when you wail in surprise. He digs his eager tongue between your cheeks, probing your puckered, virgin ass before licking a straight line all the way back up to your pussy, ending with a harsh suck on your clit as he holds your hands at bay.

It’s come out of nowhere, this sudden need to taste you. Back in the forties; Steve had rather enjoyed going down on women. He knew he was skilled at giving head, he’d been told more than enough times. But he can’t remember the last time he’d done it. Never with any of his “rewards,” who were only ever good for fucking on their hands and knees like dogs. But you, you were different.

You wiggle, crying and begging him to let go of you but you may as well be a fly with how weak and inconsequential your pleas are to his ears. Instead, he laps at your baby cunt like he’s starved. Like a starved caveman, he spits down on your clit, wanting to make your pureness as messy as possible. He spreads his saliva all over your core with his fingers, marking you up with his DNA. He encases your now engorged bundle of nerves between his lips once more, giving it another hard suck but this time his teeth graze against it.

“C-Captain, oh-oh my God–Ah!”

It’s when Steve finally forces his one finger inside you that you squirt, drenching his digit as your walls clamp down around it. And God-fucking-dammit, he can’t believe how tight you’re squeezing his one singular finger, how tight and sexy and soft you feel around it. How your slippery walls pulsate around his digit like you’ve never cum before in your life – which would explain how quickly you’ve come undone. Some of your wetness lands on his face, some of it on the sheets beneath you, and that’s when Steve realises he’s given a virgin her first orgasm.

He can’t help but smirk, his finger still lodged inside you, but not even halfway because you’re still so fucking tight.

“Doesn’t seem like you want me to stop after all, sweetheart.” He says, not realising he’s used the pet-name on you until it’s already out of his mouth. He sets the lower half of your body back down on the bed, his finger still inside you.

You sniffle as your whole body shakes with the remnants of your orgasm, “P-Please,” you say faintly, and you can’t even raise your head to look down at him, “Please, can I go home now?”

Steve’s lip curls into a snarl, and he drives his finger inside you with renewed force, curving it upwards even when he feels resistance. You scream bloody murder, and he knows if your orgasm hadn’t sapped all your energy, you’d be flailing your legs again. But for now, he easily holds you down, feeling your soft walls encase his finger which is now up to the hilt inside you. That’s when he grabs the bottle of lube, squirting out a generous amount onto the rest of his fingers.

“N-No, Captain, please, I can’t take another one, I can’t, I can’t!” You plead, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. “Captain – Steve – please listen to me, please, look, I can’t take another finger, pl–”

His palm lands on your clit with a wet smacking sound, and you howl in pain, your pelvis lifting off the bed except he pins you back down with just one hand.

“Don’t fucking use my first name. You will address me as Captain. One more slip up and I won’t do you the favour of stretching you out.” His intense blue eyes meet your tear-filled ones, “And trust me, you want to be stretched out for when I fuck you.”

With gritted teeth and a cock that’s now painfully hard, he gets to work trying to stuff another finger into your pussy. His other hand grabs your hip in a bruising grip, and his fingers stroke your smooth, bouncy ass every so often like he can’t help it. You’re turning him on so fucking much; with your crying, how you’re begging him to stop, how weak and small you are, how fucking tight your pussy is. It makes Steve want to say something just so he can hear you speak in response, despite the fact that he’s never vocal during sex.

“Tell me, why is your pussy so fucking tight?”

“H-Huh?”

“You heard me.”

You sniffle again, shooting him a pleading look that he doesn’t even bother acknowledging. He just looks at you with waiting eyes as he nonchalantly continues to force his second finger inside you. He wants to hear you say naughty things with your innocent little mouth, and talking would get you to fucking relax so he could penetrate you with his digits properly in order to stretch you out in preparation for his dick.

“I-I’ve never done this before…” you scrunch your eyes shut, but a quick slap to your thigh has you opening them again.

“You’ve never fingered yourself?”

“No!”

“Tell me why not.”

You bow your head, “I don’t know… I just… I never did, okay? I’ve never done any of it.”

A wicked thought crosses Steve’s mind, “Oh yeah? You’ve never done anything naughty, huh? You’re a good girl?” His second finger curves up to join the first, and your hips jerk forward as you suck in your breath. It makes him smile, and he slowly begins to pump his two fingers in and out of you, “You’ve never, say, humped your baby cunt against your pillow at night? Or your stuffed animals?”

The way you freeze and how your eyes widen is all the confirmation Steve needs. He chuckles darkly.

“So that’s the type of girl you are. Riding your pillow at night when you think no one’s watching, and you probably touch your body all over, too, don’t you?” Lightning quick, his other hand leaves your hip, grabbing your wrist and bringing your hand up to your chest. Through the material of your bra, he makes you cup your breast like how he would, wanting to watch with dark eyes as you play with your tits, trying to imagine how hot you’d look doing just that all alone in the privacy of whatever girlish bedroom you had.

Steadily, he continues to finger you, pumping his digits in and out of your greedy, wet pussy, and it makes slurping sounds as it swallows his fingers in over and over again. And he observes you carefully, notices your wide eyes, the sweat on your brow, the way your lips are parted as your breathing shallows out. He even sees the slight buck of your hips, and he knows he has you where he wants you, hanging on to his every filthy word despite your mind screaming at you to continue resisting.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Steve mutters lowly, “I know that’s what all innocent little girls like you do when they think they’re alone. You play with your tits and you rub your cunt all over your pillow, till you’ve got it all wet and messy. All while you fantasise about a man like me fucking you, taking care of you, huh? I’m right, aren’t I?”

You’re full on panting now, as if his beguiling words have made you forget all about your resistance, and you rock your hips harder against his thick fingers, little pants and moans sneaking past your pouty lips as he watches you closely.

“And then you act like a good girl, and you lie to me and tell me you’ve never touched yourself. But you and I both know that’s not true. Not when you spend your nights alone in your bedroom riding your little pillow while mommy and daddy sleep in the next room, and then when you’re done, I bet you bring it up to your face, just so you can smell your own wetness, right?”

This time, he gives your ass a swift slap when you don’t reply, and you cry out in pain before squeezing your eyes shut.

“Y-Yes,” you breathe softly, so softly that he barely catches it. But it makes him grin wickedly all the same. He hasn’t had this much fun with a reward since God knows when. He never bothers speaking to the lowlife girls brought to him as post-mission rewards, let alone engaging in dirty talk with them as he was with you, hanging on to your every word because it makes his dick so fucking hard.

“Of course, I’m right,” he mutters, “Captain always knows. I know you’re a little slut in the making just like all the other college girls of this century. You bring your pillow up to your face and you smell your cunt on there, and you lick it too, don’t you? You taste yourself because you’re curious, and you don’t have a man like me to show you how it’s done.”

He slips his fingers out of your cunt, your walls automatically squeezing around them as if they want to keep him inside you. But his digits are dripping wet, and he brings them up to your face. He shoves them past your lips, and you protest but all it does is create vibrations around his fingers as he smears them inside your mouth.

“Taste yourself,” he orders you, “suck on daddy’s fingers, don’t be shy.”

It takes him a few seconds to register that he’s just referred to himself as daddy. He hasn’t done that in a while – not since the forties, at least. Back then, it was quite common for women to call their man daddy, and Steve remembers enjoying it when he used to fuck the show girls during tours. But now? He usually stuck to being called “sir” or “captain” or just nothing at all. Because “daddy” was way too intimate, it suggested that he was going to take care of you. And he wasn’t going to take care of you – he was going to ruin you before you’d be taken away tomorrow.

And yet you look so sweet and cute as you suck on his fingers, too scared to fight back any more although your eyes blaze with objection, and tears stream down your face. He doesn’t think you’ll stop crying at all tonight, but he doesn’t give a fuck about that. Not when your pouty lips look so hot sucking yourself off his fingers.

“That’s right, get ‘em nice and wet,” he murmurs lowly, before deciding he misses the feel of your tight cunt squeezing his fingers – and he still has to stretch you out, too. He removes his digits from your mouth, watching as you gasp to breathe. He trails them down your front, down your chest, down your torso, all the way down to your clit. He gives it another smack, loving how you jerk upwards like you’re so damn sensitive.

He grabs a pillow, putting it underneath your ass so he has your cunt propped up and he can examine it better. Your cream is pouring out of you almost, dripping down to the pillow below you while you cry and pretend you don’t like it. But the signs are all there, he can even see how your pelvis shakes and humps upwards, because you need a man to fill you up no matter how much you protest.

“Tight little baby cunt,” he says softly as he spreads your pussy lips once more. You look so wet and slippery and yet he knows he needs to pour some more lube into your fuckhole, which he does. And then, without giving you much time to react, he shoves three of his fingers inside you, pushing harder and with more force when he’s met with any barrier.

“STOP, NO, PLEASE! STOP, CAPTAIN – TOO MUCH!” You scream so loudly that the walls seem to vibrate around the two of you.

“Shut up and take it,” Steve says, narrowing his eyes up at you before he focuses back on your gorgeous cunt, watching as your leaking hole finally swallows his three digits, “Look at this greedy little virgin pussy, so ready for my big dick to split her in half.”

You shake your head violently, crying and protesting, but it’s when you bat at his head that he sees red. How fucking dare you hit him? Just now, when he was thinking you’d been raised well, but clearly not if you didn’t think it was a problem to hit your superiors.

“You raise your hand at me again, and I’ll hit you back twice as hard.”

His menacing words make you freeze, and you whimper quietly in absolute fear as he continues to play with your pussy. He fingers you in earnest now, three of his digits stretching you out as he scissors you open, amused by the squelching sounds your cunt makes as it swallows his fingers over and over again.

“Apologise to me,” Steve demands, “say you will not raise your hand at your superior ever again.”

You sniffle, “S-Sorry…”

“Sorry, who?” He pinches your ass unforgivingly.

“Sorry, Captain! I won’t raise my hand at my superiors, okay? I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You squeal the last few words, your pitch going higher and higher as your hips begin to meet his thrusts. And bless your innocent fucking face, you look so confused by what’s happening. Your pussy’s jammed tight but he knows it must’ve started feeling good. All greedy little girls like you needed was a little push in the right direction.

Off their own accord, your thighs lock around his hand as you cum for a second time, your walls squeezing and pulsating against his fingers so fucking tightly as you mewl and cry above him. You’re absolutely gushing with wetness now, and the pillow below your ass is stained dark with your juices. For someone who kept claiming she didn’t want this, you sure were receptive to his touch.

Steve snatches his fingers out of you, smirking when you, despite everything, cry in protest at the loss of friction. He bets your pussy feels all gaping and empty now, because he knows how big and thick his fingers are. A normal-sized man would’ve had trouble stretching your virgin cunt out with his dick – Steve had had that same problem with just his fingers.

But he knows he’ll somehow manage to fit his cock inside you if he prepped you well enough. Or else he’d spend the whole night trying to. Often, with the women he’d slept with in the past, he’d be too impatient and couldn’t be bothered to prep them properly. Because of that, he’d only be able to fit half his dick inside them, and he’d grown used to fucking them like that, only because it was physically impossible to go any deeper. He won’t let that be the case tonight.

He climbs up your quivering body, and you look spent already after two orgasms, your eyes fluttering like you’re about to pass out. Steve can’t have that though, and he taps your cheek not so gently, hovering on top of you till you open your eyes and meet his gaze.

“Please, Captain,” you whisper faintly, “E-Enough, please. Can’t take any more.”

Steve ignores you. He’s grown distracted by your lips. How wet and warm and pouty they look, glistening with a mix of your salty tears, your cum and your saliva. Fuck. He never kissed any of his “rewards” before, it was too intimate and Steve didn’t do intimacy. But maybe…

He spits down on your face, his saliva landing on your cheek as you cringe. Fuck intimacy, Steve thinks, using his hand to smear his spit all over your face, till it’s shining with a mixture of both your bodily fluids. So messy yet so pretty…

“N-Never been kissed before!” you blurt out once more all of a sudden, as if you’ve read his mind. Your eyes plead up at him, a tiny bit of hope in your eyes as if you truly believe he’ll show you empathy and spare you, “P-Please, Sir. I’ve never been kissed, a-and I want it to be special…”

How cute. You were worried about him spoiling your first kiss as if he hadn’t just finger-fucked you to two orgasms in the span five minutes. Amused, he brings his thumb up to your mouth, stroking your pouty bottom lip gently.

“You don’t let the boys at your college kiss you?” He asks, again not fully understanding why he’s even bothering to talk to you, but he figures it’s simply because he finds it amusing.

“N-No, Captain.”

“Why not?”

“I’m t-too shy, and they’re not… they’re not interested in me,” you sound so shaky, peering up at him as if you expect him to just get off you now you’ve told him your sob story about wanting to save your first kiss to be something special.

Steve snorts. And just how fucking naïve could you be? You’re fucking delectable, he bets the lowlifes at your college creamed their pants thinking about you. Suddenly, he bristles at the thought of sending you back tomorrow, back to the dumb idiots you went to college with. But he shakes the thought out of his mind to focus solely on you.

“There’s nothing special about kissing,” he tells you, “Love, intimacy, saving yourself for that special someone – none of that’s real. The sooner you realise that, the better.”

He kisses you, cupping your cheeks with his hands so that you don’t move your face aside. At first, he’s rough, unforgiving, pressing his tongue into your mouth because you taste so sweet and he needs to get more. And then he slows down, registers your soft, quivering lips on his, how rigid they are as you don’t kiss him back. He snorts inwardly, not caring in the least. He’d kiss you all he wanted – he doesn’t care if you don’t respond.

Steve sighs into your mouth, so tuned in to your senses that he feels your breath hitch, and a tiny squeak sounds past your lips and straight into his. His thumbs, seemingly moving off their own accord, stroke your cheekbones, and he feels your body instinctively relax underneath his – probably because that’s the first and only gentle gesture you’ve felt from him this whole night.

Slowly, he sucks your bottom lip almost sweetly, as if lulling you into a false sense of security. You’re still too scared or shy to kiss him back, but that doesn’t make the kiss any less enjoyable for him. His tongue plays with yours coaxingly, because he can’t remember the last time he kissed a girl and liked it so much. And then he feels you give a tiny little kitten lick, as if you’re testing the waters as you move your tongue shyly against his. And the feeling goes straight to his dick.

He pulls away slightly to watch your face, amused when he sees your eyes scrunched shut and your lips slightly pursed, as if awaiting another kiss. And that’s what he does, giving you one, two, three quick pecks that have you inhaling deeply, and your eyes open cautiously. But they flutter shut almost immediately when they find him staring back at you.

Steve goes in for another kiss, as if one wasn’t enough because suddenly it’s like he’s parched, and his raging hard on would have to wait a second longer. His dick is as hard as a metal rod, resting against your bare stomach as he makes out with you. One of his hands reach down to cup your breast, and he can feel your nipple, hard as glass, poke against his palm even through the material of the bra. You squeak into his mouth again, as if him touching and playing with your breast is making your body invertedly respond to him.

He can definitely feel you kissing him back now, even though it’s shy and periodic… Your tongue moving slowly against his for a few seconds before you remember you’re not supposed to be enjoying this and you freeze. And then you start again, your tongue timidly stroking against his once more. Then you stop again. Repeat. It makes him smirk against your lips, feeling a rumbling in his chest like he wants to chuckle in amusement.

He pulls away, examining how breathless and cute you look. And you gaze up at him with glassy, wet eyes, those perfect, pouty lips still slightly puckered, as if you’re asking for more. But he continues to just drink in every detail of your face and how you look a mix of scared and curious, afraid and confused.

“W-Was I bad?” you breathe, and your innocent face is begging for reassurance. He knows because little girls like you always want reassurance, are always seeking out the approval of men like him. And a part of him wants to tell you no, no you weren’t bad at all. In fact, he rather enjoyed kissing you. But he keeps his mouth shut, because it wasn’t his job to reassure you. And maybe he wants you to be a bit insecure; you’d work harder in pleasing him if you thought he didn’t like your kiss.

He’s still cupping your breast with one hand, and he suddenly feels a wave of irritation at the lacy material of your bra. Quick as a wink, he tears your bra apart, the two ripped pieces now lying on either side of you. A hungry growl emanates from him, and he feels like an animal, he really just wants to suck on your tits but his dick is growing impatient, and you’d probably pass out from fear and dread if he stretched this out any longer.

He reaches to grab a condom from where he stashes them in his bedside drawer. Protection was a must for him – who knew what kinds of diseases all these modern, promiscuous girls were carrying? And yet, his hand falters before he draws back completely, his mind clouding with thoughts of how sexy your soft pussy would feel around his dick if he fucked you raw. Yes. He had to fuck you raw, feel your tight virgin pussy around him as he ruined it. He deserved as much.

Instead, Steve grabs the lube once more, acutely aware of you watching him with eyes round as saucers as he squirts a generous amount of it on his dick. He looks back at you, lying deathly still underneath him, looking like you’ve seen a ghost. He wonders if your pussy’s still tingling from the two orgasms he’s just given you, and he absentmindedly pumps his dick at the thought. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this turned on before in his life, his dick so hard he feels he’ll blow his load right there and then.

He lines his cock up against your entrance, his hands holding your silky soft thighs apart. A part of him wishes you’d fight back just one more time, just so he could exert his dominance over you once more, just so it would highlight how weak and small you are. But you lay there, quivering in fear, definitely too scared to fight back, or too distracted by his dick he glides it up and down your wet slit in anticipation.

Suddenly, you grab his arm as if to stop him, and Steve narrows his eyes.

“W-Will it hurt?�� You ask softly.

“Yes.”

You whimper, your grip on his arm tightening as another tear trickles down your cheek, and you look up at him with desperate eyes.

“Please, Captain, p-please could you… could you make it hurt less? Please?” You beg him so prettily, and he can’t help but focus on how your tears get caught in your lashes, and how you sniffle like a baby. “Please, I’m sc-scared, I– maybe if you were slow–?”

“It’s going to hurt no matter what,” Steve says briskly, feeling impatient beyond belief, and yet a part of him wants to brush and collect your tears. “In fact, if I go in slowly, it’ll hurt more.” He wonders if he should say more, say anything at all to ease your discomfort. But he reasons that that’s not his job – he’s not a lovesick boyfriend who needs to worry about your feelings. This is for him. He deserves this.

You start crying softly once more, your whole body shaking. Steve tries to ignore it, focusing on your cunt instead. His dick is twitching with excitement, the tip an angry red as he brings it up against your fuckhole. He grits his teeth and pushes in, but he can’t. You’re too tight – and he’s way too big. He sighs in frustration.

“Stop being so tense.” He orders you, pouring another decent amount of lube all over his cock as well as your entrance. He’d scissored you open with three of his fingers, but it had been an extremely tight fit. And three of his fingers didn’t compare to the girth and thickness of his dick – not even the tip of it. He frowns down at you, “You need to relax. It’ll hurt less if you relax.”

A panicked look flits over your face as you look down at his dick, and he knows you’re intimidated by his size. But then you take a deep breath, close your eyes and he feels your body get less tense underneath him. He smirks.

He grabs his cock by the base and lines it up against your hole once more. You flinch away from him, your innocent, puppy dog eyes blinking up at him. He doesn’t give a fuck though, and with a lot more determination this time, he grits his teeth and forces his way inside you.

Your scream is earth-shattering. But it’s music to his ears.          

“NO, PLEASE, NO, TAKE IT OUT! TAKE IT OUT! TOO BIG!”

You thrash violently underneath him, limbs flailing before he pins them down. But for a handful of seconds, he can’t even really focus on you. Not when he’s finally basking in the glory of being inside your tight little snatch, and it feels almost euphoric. You feel so sexy around him, so hot and velvety, squeezing the life out of his fat cock. Well, he’s only got a bit more than his tip inside you, but it already feels fucking heavenly.

“Oh fuck,” Steve mutters under his breath, trying to get a grip and not get too lost in the feeling of your gorgeous fucking pussy. He hasn’t even fucked you yet, and yet he feels like his balls are about to blow with how fucking hot it feels being inside you like this.

“It hurts! T-Take it out, Captain! Please!” Your tiny hand grabs his forearm again, lips puckered so sweetly, even the grimace on your face looks beautiful. You’re beautiful when you’re in pain, and he’s addicted to the sight of it. For a split second, he imagines it’s his wedding night, and you’re his beautiful bride – sweet, innocent, beautiful bride and he’s just popped your cherry and now you’re his forever.

The thought makes him shudder, and he quickly pulls out (not that there’s much to pull out, since only his tip had entered you. You were crying and screaming just from being penetrated by only his tip, and this makes Steve smug, despite everything).

You’ve barely caught your breath when he drives his dick back inside you, and this time he really forces it in. Now that he’s got a taste of your warmth, he wants to be completely enveloped in it. His hands grab your hips tightly, forcing his fat cock inside you inch by inch. He doesn’t care if it takes all night, he was going to fully penetrate you if it was the last thing he did.

“Shhh, shut up and take it,” he orders you as you scream and protest. If any other one of his girls had screamed bloody murder the way you were doing right now, he would’ve smacked them unconscious. Not you though, and he doesn’t know why that is. “God fucking dammit, how is your pussy so fucking tight?”

“Y-You’re too big,” you answer, shaking your head over and over again, “th-this… this isn’t normal, Captain, y-you won’t fit! Please stop, something’s gonna break, I-I’m scared, I–”

He wants to break your pussy. He wants to break you.

“Shut up,” he snarls, before a thought occurs to him. Out of nowhere, he kisses you once more. Silencing your protests as his tongue works against yours, and he finds that he was already missing kissing you. God, you felt so good. Your warm, sexy lips against his and your warm, sexy pussy gripping his dick. God, fuck… So this is what great sex was, huh? Maybe he’d been fucking the wrong girls this whole time. Maybe he should’ve sought you out from the beginning – or someone like you. Someone young, innocent, unexperienced, delicate, fragile, a cry-baby. Just the complete opposite of him.

Despite everything, you kiss him back once more. Steve bets it’s because your girlish mind is trying to convince him (and yourself) that you’re a good kisser. He makes a mental note never to give you this reassurance – that way you’d just keep kissing him as if you had something to prove. Or at least that was the hope. Nevertheless, the kissing distracts you enough for him to still inside you (he’d only gotten less than a quarter of his huge dick in) and then he pulls out.

The third time he penetrates you, he does it with more force than ever before. And he bites your lip hard, grunting against you till he can taste your blood. That’s when he finally pushes more than halfway inside you, and he hears something rip from within. And you scream, you scream so fucking loudly and straight into his mouth, but he continues to kiss you, basking in the feeling of being inside you properly now. His dick feels so constricted inside your tight walls, but it’s the best feeling he’s ever felt.

He breaks the kiss to look down into your eyes, and savour your reaction to being impaled by him, to being filled up by only half his length. But your head lolls to the side, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

You’ve passed out.

“What a fucking baby,” Steve hisses, shallowly thrusting in and out of you. “Can’t even take daddy’s dick inside this tight little snatch of yours without passing out, can you?” Truthfully, he doesn’t even want to pull out, he’s so obsessed with how good your pulsating pussy feels around his dick. But he knows he needs to draw back so he can thrust back in even deeper. He’s only got half his dick inside you now, but he’s determined to get in balls deep before the night is over.

“Wake the fuck up!” he commands, wanting you alert as he defiles you. He slaps your cheek lightly several times, to no avail. He sighs, reaching for the glass of water on his side table. He dips his fingers into the liquid before sprinkling the water over your face. He slaps your cheek again, harder this time, and it turns him on when he hits you, taps into his darkest, most masochistic desires that he keeps under wraps from even himself.

It's only when he pulls out and slams back into you that you suddenly rouse, and it takes you a nanosecond to start screaming again, panicking and flailing underneath him once more. But he’s not having it this time, and quickly plasters his palm over your mouth to silence you.

“Tell me... how does daddy’s dick feel?” He asks you darkly, and he can sense the sadistic smile on his face fuelled by the sheer power he has over you right now. “And I’ll backhand the fuck out of you if you start screaming again, so don’t even try it.”

He removes his hand from your mouth and focuses on pushing more into you, and you pant underneath him, silently sobbing and cringing in pain. And yet you swallow and look up at him bravely.

“I-It hurts!”

“Address me properly.”

“C-Captain, it hurts!”

He narrows his eyes, “No. I asked you how does daddy’s dick feel?”

Your jaw drops open, and it looks like you’ve momentarily forgotten that he’s currently trying to impale you with his huge dick. Your face has the audacity to look mortified, and he wonders how innocent you truly are.

“I can’t… I can’t call you… That’s wrong!” you sputter, looking almost – dare Steve think it – cute. With your wide eyes and indignant gaze and delicious pouty lips in the shape of an o. You seem to blurt out your next words without even thinking: “Y-You’re not my dad!”

Steve barks out a laugh before he can stop himself, but he straightens his face almost immediately, reaching up to grip your chin harshly between his thumb and forefinger. Faced with your horror-struck reaction to calling him daddy, he now wants you to address him as that and nothing else.

“Listen, sweetheart. You may have noticed by now that you don’t get much of a say in what happens to you tonight,” he licks up your jawline before his lips brush against your mouth, and he speaks in a whisper, “Now answer my question. And address me properly. Or else.”

You look mortified, scrunching your eyes shut as you breath rapidly in and out. “It… It hurts…daddy.”

Steve feels like he’ll bust a nut right there and then. He doesn’t think he’s ever been more turned on. You’re so small and shy, so tiny and naïve and scared like a baby, and now you’re calling him daddy in that sexy, shaky voice of yours. Goddamn, what a sexy little slut you were. And he’d take care of you tonight, just like any daddy would. Oh… damn right he’d be your daddy tonight. God fucking dammit, you were such a little slut for calling him that!

With a renewed, carnal type of lust, Steve grabs your legs and hoists them over his shoulders. You yelp as he folds you in half like a goddamned pretzel. And the juxtaposition, the visual of your naked body underneath him still in his bloodied suit from the mission – God, it turns him on so much. He presses another kiss to your lips, guiding you into making out with him, wanting you to get obsessed with the idea of kissing him. And then he pulls away, and looks you right in the eye.

“Now you can scream.”

“Huh?”

He slams into you so fucking hard, he’s sure you see stars. And if you were screaming loudly before, it’s nothing compared to now. His entire floor is sound-proofed, but he’s sure the people above and below can hear you. He’s pushed himself far deeper into you, so deep that he senses something rip inside you again. And you’re crying, your little fists pounding against his chest, and yet Steve grits his teeth and mutters, “take it, just fucking take it,” pushing into you bit by bit, inch by inch, so determined to finally get his cock all the way inside you. Pulling out a bit, then pushing in some more while your tight walls try to push him out but he’s so much fucking stronger than you.

A deep rumble emanates past his lips when he finally – fucking finally – bottoms out inside you, and he leans down to press his forehead over yours so he can savour the moment. You were his, completely, irrevocably, undeniably his. You whimper and cry underneath him but it’s music to his ears, your sweet reaction to him popping your cherry, completely snatching away your virginity and possessing it as his forever. He looks down to where you two meet, sees your pussy stretched out completely around his girthy dick, and it makes him want to spontaneously combust.

“You’re mine.” Steve breathes against your lips, and for the second time tonight, the image of you as his little bride flits through his mind. Yes, you’d make a very fitting bride for him. Small and submissive and innocent. And he’d never taken marriage seriously before now but… well, how could he give you up? When he’d taken your virginity and made you his? How could he possibly send you back to wherever you’d come from? The mere thought fills him with vitriolic rage. No. You were to stay with Steve, and you’d be his bride. His wife. His. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

You don’t argue this time, or even hesitate. He knows he’s broken you when you look up at him, dazed expression on your face. “I’m – I’m yours, daddy.”

Fuck. And you’d gone and called him daddy again without him even having to prompt you. Yes. That more than sealed your fate. You would be his now. His girl. His wife. He’d keep you locked up in his room forever, the same reward that he’d look forward to coming home to after every mission.

“How does it feel to have your baby pussy split open on my cock, sweetheart?” He presses kisses down the nape of your neck, excitement rippling through him at his impulsive decision to make you his wife. The thrill of finding a bride as cute as you makes him want to kiss you even more, and he nips at your neck before reaching your lips, pecking them once, twice, three times. All while you look up at him with glassy, wet eyes and a pitiful expression mixed with something else.

“Please,” you breathe quietly against his lips, and with sapped energy you manage to grab a fistful of his suit, pulling it to get his attention, “Please, make it hurt less. Please.”

Steve smirks, pulling out of you and preparing to slam back in. But he grows distracted by the sight of his cock, completely coated scarlet with your blood. Your virgin blood. The pillow under your ass is stained with drops of dark crimson too, and he’s never seen anything like it. Fuck. He’d really done a number on you, hadn’t he? And he hadn’t even begun fucking you yet.

I deserve this, he thinks to himself.

He slams into you again, the gasp dying in your mouth when he grabs you by the chin and forces you to look down at where you two meet. Your eyes grow wider, your mouth dropping open as you shake your head in disbelief at the sight of your pussy so stretched out to accommodate his girth.

“What’re those conservative parents of yours gonna think when they find out their good little girl just got her pussy ripped apart by a man twice her age?”

You swallow and shake your head, “I–I…”

“Answer me!”

“They’d be d-d-disappointed!” You cry out, ripping your gaze away from the sight of his dick penetrating your formerly virgin pussy, instead looking up at him instead, your mouth looking so deliciously pouty.

Steve smiles wickedly, “It’s a good thing you’re not their little girl anymore, huh? You’re mine now, so their opinion doesn’t matter.”

“Th-They like you! They’re fans of you… They wouldn’t like this at all! OH MY GOD!” You gasp, and he has to hold you down to keep you from sliding upwards from the power of his thrusts. You cry out once more, “W-Was supposed to – ah! – wait till I was married…”

The mention of marriage has Steve imagining you as his little bride once more. He already owned your body, mind and soul – but the marriage certificate would make sure he owned you under the eyes of the law too. His kept woman you’d be, fluttering around his apartment like a bird in a gilded cage. Or maybe he’d move you into one of the suburban properties he owned, where he could come home to you and relieve all his tension and worries. Yes. It would be perfect. He’d make all the arrangements tomorrow…

For now, he focuses back on fucking you silly. Pulling out all the way, he rams his dick straight back into your cunt, and you let out a sound that’s a mix between a squeak and a moan. He looks down at you curiously.

“You like that? You like daddy’s big dick?” He grabs your hands, squeezing them tightly.

“T-Too big!” Your eyes flutter shut as if you’re about to pass out again. “C-Captain, please slow down! H-Hurts so bad!”

Steve bristles. Hadn’t he explicitly told you to call him daddy? After all, he’d be your daddy now. You wouldn’t be your father’s property after tonight. No, you were Steve’s. He was your daddy, and he’d take care of you because you’d soon become his bride. But he wouldn’t have an insolent, insubordinate wife who couldn’t take instructions well. That wouldn’t do at all.

He grunts, letting go of your hands and wrapping his fingers around your throat instead. You squeal in protest but it lands on deaf ears. His other hand presses down over your mouth once more.

“Shut up!” He snaps, “Stop squealing like a little bitch. It hurts but you’re just going to have to take it. And you better start calling me daddy, or else I’ll drag you back downstairs and fuck you in front of everyone.” He only means it as a threat, but he knows by the way your breath hitches that you’re innocent enough to believe him.

He removes his hand from your lips and taps you roughly on your cheek, “Tell me you understand.”

You nod, receiving a harder tap on your cheek and a menacing look.

“I-I understand, daddy, I – oh – oh my!”

He thrusts into you with such force, he knows you’re seeing stars. And it’s subtle, but Steve catches it. He catches the shift in your expression, this unfamiliar spark in your eye as if you don’t know what’s happening with your body. But Steve knows. Your body is finally starting to respond to his cruel ministrations – just like he knew you would. You were an innocent little baby but you were also a horny little slut who was enjoying getting fucked by a man like him.

“It’s starting to feel good, huh?” Steve whispers against your lips, imagining the different ways he’d take you for the rest of the night. Of course, you’d probably pass out again once he was done with this first round. But after that? Maybe he’d put you on top of him, bounce you up and down on his cock and get in even deeper that way. Or he’d make you suck his cock, or maybe he’d manhandle you till you were on his face, rubbing that sweet, gorgeous little baby cunt on his –

“I-I don’t understand!” You cry, and he feels you wiggle your hips subtly as if you’re trying to do it without him noticing, “Feels…feels…oh, oh god!” With abandon, your head lolls back and you rut your hips up against his dick, meeting his thrusts. Steve chuckles, a satisfied feeling spreading across his chest.

“All that crying and screaming, just for you to enjoy getting fucked by me,” Steve murmurs, brushing your hair off your face so he can gauge your expression better. You look so pitiful, biting your lip and looking up at him with wet eyes, humping up against his dick and your eyes reflecting the confusion you felt. “But don’t worry, all little girls like you love getting fucked by their daddy. It’s only natural, sweetheart.”

“D-Daddy, please,” you pant, and now your hands come up to grip a fistful of his suit, and he knows that you don’t even understand the pleasure you’re slowly starting to feel. And you’re gripping his cock so tight as he rams in and out of you, building up a steady pace now. He knows he’s found your g-spot and he’s pounding against it, but you have no fucking clue and it’s the hottest fucking thing ever.

“Look at you, humping your baby pussy up against daddy’s dick,” Steve shakes his head as if he’s reprimanding you. He spits down on your face, wanting you even messier. His hand leaves your throat as he shoves two of his fingers past your lips, spreading them open and spitting again. His saliva lands on your tongue, “Swallow it, you nasty fucking slut. I knew I’d make you my little slut before the night was through. I said fucking swallow it. That’s right. Good girl.”

“Ah, ah, ah– tingles… I – daddy! P-Please, I don’t know what’s – AH!”

 Your breathless moans and nonsensical garbles are like music to his ears, but nothing compares to the way you clamp down on his cock when you suddenly squirt around it. The way you squeak and clutch him tightly, and he fucks you through your orgasm. Your very first orgasm while getting fucked, and it’s so fucking sexy the way your tight walls flutter around him. God, he could get used to this feeling – buried deep inside your wet, tight snatch every single night from here on out.

“Did daddy make you feel good?” He breathes, hips moving like a jackhammer, his balls slapping against your pussy as he continues to fuck you.

You nod timidly, wiped out from your orgasm to say anything else. He smirks, watching your breasts bounce up and down as he fucks the living daylights out of you and you just lie there beneath him and take it. As if a part of you had understood that this was to be your job from here on out – his little fuckdoll, his little prize after God knows how many listless years of saving the world, saving people who he didn’t give a flying fuck about.

He’d won countless medals of honour, rewarding him for his bravery in serving his country, in saving his people. But you were his true prize, with your tight cunt that was his and his only. And how jealous every other man would be! He knew they already envied his physique, his fame, his authority. Now all those assholes would have another reason to envy him – because his little bride was the most innocent, most vulnerable, most beautiful girl they’d ever lay their eyes on. And it would be his bed in which you’d be, night after night, waiting with spread legs for him to fuck you.

Of course, he’d fuck other women if he so wanted to. Steve didn’t believe in love or monogamy. He believed in ownership, though. And he owned you, every part of you from your cunt to your soul. You wouldn’t even look at another man ever again, or else Steve would have you killed. And the thought of you with another man is what incenses him even more.

With a low growl, he pulls out of you. Your eyes shoot open, your mouth pausing mid-moan to look up at him desperately. Your cunt shamelessly humps the air, and he can’t believe what a little harlot you’ve turned into after your first taste of sex. He looks down at his blood-covered dick, grabbing it by the base. He lays his fat cock on your stomach, painting your smooth skin scarlet with your own virginal blood. The sight turns him on even more, and with another growl, he puts your legs down and flips you over on your stomach.

He grabs your ankle, dragging you to the foot of the bed while you squeak in protest and confusion. He gets off the bed, standing up to his full height as you cower beneath him, looking back at him over your shoulder warily, a trail of blood on the sheets from where he’d dragged you.

“Hands and knees,” he orders, “and don’t fucking make me repeat myself.”

This time, you do obey pretty quickly. Mustering up whatever energy you have left, you shakily get on your hands and knees. He grabs your hips just in time, keeping you upright before your body has a chance to collapse. Your legs are shaking and he knows your body can’t take much more. He doesn’t care, because he owns your body and you’ll take what he gives you.

“Nice ass,” he smirks, squeezing and kneading your ass cheeks liberally before giving your ass a hard smack that has your knees buckling. He hoists you back up by your hips, “Thank me for the compliment, sweetheart.”

“Th-Thank you, daddy.” You answer almost at once, and Steve grins wolfishly. He’s broken you. He bets you’d do just about anything to please him now. He bets you’ve forgotten about your life back home, and all your tiny mind can think about now is your daddy and his big cock.

With a grunt, Steve pistons his fat cock inside you once more. And god, from this angle, with your gorgeous, perky ass right in his fucking face, he feels like he’s going to blow his load any second. You start moaning again, rocking your hips backwards, garbling “please” and “daddy” and other nonsense. Your ass bounces with each thrust, and Steve can’t help but slap it brutally hard, over and over again, wanting you even more bruised and bloody than you already are right now.

“You like it rough, don’t you?” he asks, slapping and pinching your ass while he watches his dick disappear inside your sexy cunt over and over again, “you tried to act all innocent and cute, telling me you had fucking homework to do tonight, fuck!” He lifts your hips up off the bed to get a better angle, till he’s holding your entire lower body up in the air.  It gives him better leverage, since he’s so tall, and he fucks you on his dick like you were nothing more than a fleshlight.

“I – ah, daddy! – I d-do have h-h-homework – OH MY GOD!”

It just gets Steve even harder, hearing you be so innocent despite being held up and fucked like a dog. You’ve got your elbows propped on the mattress to keep you up, your legs flailing helplessly as he holds your hips in the air, ramming you repeatedly with his fat cock till he knows you’re seeing stars.

“Forget about your fucking homework from now on,” he spits out, grabbing your ass lewdly and jiggling it, fascinated by how it bounces so cutely. “There’s no way I’m letting you go back to that college of yours.”

“Wh-What?”

He doesn’t answer, and the room is filled with sounds of skin slapping against skin, the carnal sound of Steve staking his claim on you. With all his other rewards, he’d be done in about fifteen minutes. You, he’d have you all night if he could. Well, he can – he’s built like a fucking tank with stamina for days. You, on the other hand, keep looking like you’re going to pass out and he’s pretty sure he’s done some type of damage to your pussy. He’d have SHIELD’s physician check you tomorrow.

He throws you back down on the bed, not giving you a chance to even catch your breath before he’s on top of you, flipping you on your back and urgently pressing his lips to yours. Much to his smugness, this time you respond as if it’s muscle memory, kissing him back as best as you can. And for a person who’s just learnt how to kiss, you sure were extremely desperate for it. You keep kissing him even when he enters back into you for the third time, fucking you on your back and this time you wrap your arms and legs around him like a goddamned koala bear, your kisses growing more fervent till Steve pulls away and chuckles against your lips.

“You like kissing me?” He finds himself asking you, holding you in place beneath him as he fucks you hard, but his one hand comes up to grip your chin so you don’t look away, “be honest, baby. You like kissing daddy?”

Your eyes widen in fear at the direct question, and he watches the panic on your face. But then your features contort in pleasure as he repeatedly hits that spot deep inside you, and you nod desperately, surging up to kiss him again but he pushes you back down.

“Use your words.”

“Ah, y-yes, I do, okay!? I like it! P-Please!”

You start doing that thing again, humping pathetically up into him as if to meet his thrusts. And he wonders if you realise how easy he’s truly going on you. He reckons he’s using about five percent of his power right now as he rams into you repeatedly. Any more than that and he’s sure he’d shatter your pelvis or cause permanent damage.

“Kiss me, then.” Steve says, not knowing why he sounds so gentle. He probably had something stuck in his throat, but he doesn’t dwell over it because, like a good little girl, you obey him. Your needy lips, your desperate tongue poking against his in a perfect kiss. He groans into your mouth, his thrusts going sloppy as your cunt squeezes around him because you’re so turned on by him kissing you.

“Am I… A-Am I doing this right, daddy?” You breathe, batting those fucking sexy, innocent eyes up at him.

Steve smirks, “You’re fine.”

You’re more than fine, of course – but he doesn’t need you knowing that. He needs you to be as insecure as possible. It made you even hotter, the look of self-doubt that you have on your face right now. He’s violated your body, he’s still violating your body, and yet all you seem to be focusing on is the fact that he thinks your kissing is “fine.” Not good, not great… but fine.

You kiss him once more, even more desperately this time, as if you’re trying to prove something. Steve relishes how easy it is to play with your mind, how naïve you are. How much he’ll enjoy playing with you when he makes you his wife. He continues pistoning his dick inside you as he lets his mind wander.

All the others would be so fucking jealous of him – even Bucky, who had a girl already but Bucky’s girl was nothing compared to you. He’d drag you around the whole building, the whole headquarters, the whole compound, showing you off like a shiny, new toy. That’s what you were – his very own toy.

He’d take you into meetings with him, make you sit on his lap and play with you in front of everyone. And he’d chop the dick off of anyone who looked at you in a way he didn’t like. He’d make you wear pretty dresses, make you look like a cute little housewife, train you to answer his every command. Fuck yeah, you’d be his reward. He deserved you, after all he had sacrificed for his country, for the world.

“D-Daddy, I’m feelin- tingly again!” you moan, your words shaky from how hard he’s fucking into you. Your legs wrap tighter around his waist and in return he clutches you harder, determined to make you squirt again before he had his own release.

“Oh yeah? What does it feel like?”

“D-Daddy – nngh…ah, I–I–”

He swats your clit harshly, making you howl in what he knows is pleasure. His dick hammers in and out of you unforgivingly, and you’re such a fucking slut, humping up against him, crying for your release. And it’s such a far cry from how much you were resisting him at first, he can’t believe what a little slut he’s reduced you to in such little time.

“Stupid girl, can’t even talk anymore, can you?” he mocks, pinching your clit meanly, bullying it as he rubs it fiercely. Till you’re thrashing underneath him, so desperate to cum that you don’t even care that your body is betraying you. “Tell me you’re a stupid little girl!”

“Oh fuck! I’m a – a – a stupid little girl!”

He can see the remnants of your tears stained to your cheeks, and he feels a carnal level of possession within him. With a growl, he lewdly licks the side of your face, claiming his territory, tasting your salty tears. Roughly, he tugs your hair, pulling your head to the side and biting down on your neck. So hard that he draws blood, and then he licks that up too. God, what a little slut you were – a slut disguised as an angel and you were making him act like a motherfucking animal.

And now the side of your neck sported his bite mark, your porcelain perfect skin marred by his branding of you. And this was just the beginning – Steve already knows that he plans to mark you in many different ways. Tomorrow, he’d get one of the agents to bring over a tattoo artist to tattoo his initials somewhere on your body. Maybe right above your baby cunt, just so you would always remember who you belonged to. He smirks, and wonders what your conservative parents would think of that.

“What would your parents think now, sweetheart?” He asks, grabbing one of your legs and hoisting it over his shoulder for a better angle. And you’re so pliable, so easily going along with whatever he’s doing to you like a perfect little doll. “What would they think of their perfect little girl getting fucked by Captain America like it’s her fucking job?”

You panic, as if the mention of your parents is a reminder of how wrong this all is for you – not that Steve gives a fuck. Biting your lip to keep from moaning at all the sensations you’re feeling, you shake your head. Only for him to slap you not so lightly on the cheek.

“Answer me, baby girl.”

“They’d – ah – they’d hate this, they’d be upset, they’d – OH FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!” You scream out all of a sudden, your pussy walls gripping him like a vice, “O-Oh, I’m feelin– I gotta–”

“Hold it.” Steve hisses warningly.

But you don’t. Of course, you don’t. Babies like you couldn’t hold orgasms for shit. And you cum, crying for him and gripping him tightly, and Steve feels like he’s going to lose it with how sexy it feels. It feels like your cunt is trying to swallow him up, crying for his seed as it pulsates around his fat cock that continues to move in and out.

“Bad girl,” Steve chastises, giving you another not-so-gentle slap on the cheek because you look like you’re about to faint again. He jostles you with the forces of his dick, still ramming in and out of you at lightning speed. “You do things without permission a lot at home?”

You have the audacity to, despite everything, look indignant: “N-No, never, I never–”

“Then what made you think you could cum without your daddy’s permission?”

Your lips purse as if you’re about to cry, and you blink up at him so goddamned innocent. Steve’s honestly surprised he’s still going, surprised he hasn’t busted a fucking nut with how goddamned cute and sexy you are.

“I’m…I’m sorry, I couldn’t – ah! – I had to, I–I–”

“Give me another one,” he orders you darkly.

“Wh-What–”

“You heard me. Cum for daddy again. Since you like doing it so much.”

Frantically, you shake your head, “C-Can’t! Too much, daddy, it’s too much– O-O-HHH GOD!”

He reaches down to strum your clit before a dark thought crosses his mind. His fingers slip lower, gathering the wetness of your pussy along the way. Lower, between the cleft of your ass cheeks. He can’t resist giving one of your perky cheeks a hard smack, before going straight for your puckered hole. He circles it with his thumb and your body stiffens in shock and horror.

“N-No, daddy, no please, that’s wrong, that’s–”

Steve shoves his finger in your tight, virgin asshole. He hadn’t been planning on defiling that third hole tonight, but oh well. And it’s even tighter than your pussy, and you clench against his digit like a fucking whore because he knows you like it. You like your daddy’s finger up there. His fucked up little wife-to-be… God, you were so perfect for him.

 With his fat cock, Steve fucks your pussy and at the same time, his huge finger fucks your tiny ass. Pumping in and out of your tiny hole while you cry and yet once more you slowly begin humping up against him. As if the depravity of it all turned you on even more – which he knew it did.

Your hand tugs at his bicep, making him shift his gaze back up to you.

“It’s happening again, daddy, it’s– d-don’t stop, I–”

Steve licks his lips, “Say you’ll marry me.”

Your eyes widen the most they have all night, “Wh-What?!”

“Say it!” He orders, “Say it or else I’ll fucking stop and leave you hanging. Say you’ll marry me, be my wife and do whatever the fuck I tell you to do.”

“N-No, I–”

He stills his hips, only for you to shake your head and grip his arm harder in desperation, humping up against him hopelessly.

“Say it. Say you’re daddy’s little bride. Fucking say it.”

“I-I’m daddy’s little bride, okay? I’ll do it, daddy, I’ll marry you, I – OH FUCK, PLEASE – I’ll do whatever you say, I, just please, I–” You’ve lost it, completely lost it as new tears swell from your eyes and you beg him as if you have no shame at all. And Steve feels all the pride and smugness in the world as he resumes fucking you, knowing he won’t last any longer after this carnal display of submission from you.

“Cum.” He orders you, “right now, sweetheart, do what I say and cum for daddy.”

You squirt so violently around his cock, that your whole body shakes and shudders, you’re so overwhelmed by pleasure. Toes curled and tears streaking your face, you hold him so tightly that he’s surprised by your strength, and you keep moaning his name, you keep moaning “daddy” over and over again as if he got his agents to reprogramme your brain and it’s all you know how to say now.

“That’s right, baby girl,” he mutters lowly, “squeeze that pretty little princess cunt around daddy’s dick. You’re such a good fucking girl.”

“Th-Thank you, daddy,” your meek response, barely audible by how quietly you say it, is not something he expected, and it goes straight to his dick. Not you, not his little bride, thanking him for deflowering you in the most brutal way possible? Fuck, he’d broken you. You’d be licking the palm of his hand by tomorrow; he just knew it.

The thought makes him shudder, his dick twitches and then he unloads inside you. Spurt after spurt unloaded straight into your pussy, and it’s such a satisfying feeling, pumping you full of his seed. Filling you the fuck up, and he’s glad he didn’t use the fucking condom. And there’s so much of his cum, because of the serum of course, so much that it doesn’t even fit inside you. It pours out of you and you watch with wide eyes before letting out a soft cry.

“I’m not… I’m not protected, I don’t take birth control, I–I…” Your voice trails off, too weak to voice any more protestations as Steve continues to empty himself inside you, your words having no effect on him whatsoever.

“Good. You’d be lucky to carry my child.” Steve informs you, his cock already thickening again at the thought of him knocking you up. He’d never had an interest in having children before now, but fucking a whole family into you seems like the hottest fucking thing he could do right now. Captain America: the family man. It made sense for his image.

Your protests fall on deaf ears, and he remains inside you, till he’s finally emptied out and your poor, raw pussy is overflowing with his cum. But he stays on top of you, propped up on his elbows as he watches you underneath him. Your chest rising and falling as you breathe, and you’re so pretty, and he can’t help but lean down to kiss you again. Once, twice, three times. He frowns when you don’t kiss him back, drawing back to take another look at you.

Your eyes have fluttered shut. Your body couldn’t take it. You’ve passed out once more.

Steve smirks, feeling himself hardening up again inside you. He had absolutely no qualms with fucking you back to consciousness again.

***

It’s gone past midnight when Steve hears a knock on his door. He calls for them to come in, and two SHIELD agents appear in his doorway. The same two who always come to take away his rewards after he’s done with them.

The female agent’s jaw twitches at the sight. Steve on the bed, having changed and washed up with a quick shower. And you’re next to him, passed out on the bloodied sheets. Steve reckons you look beautiful, like you’re sleeping.

“Would you like for us to take her away, Captain?” The male agent asks.

“No. She will stay with me. Contact her family and let them know, make them pack a bag for her and make sure it arrives here by tomorrow.”

The male agent nods, but the female – it’s always the damned females, Steve scorns – she hesitates.

“Captain, she looks like she’s in bad shape. Maybe–”

“That will be all.” Steve interrupts, “you can leave now.”

They do, and Steve turns his attentions back to you – his little girl, as you begin to stir.

“Shhh,” he orders, when you open your mouth to speak. Your eyes look bleary, you look confused, wondering whether all this was a dream or not. Steve’s in no mood to indulge you, and yet he presses his thumb past your lips. And fuck, it goes straight to his dick when you readily accept it, sucking his thumb like a baby as you blink up at him.

His beautiful, broken little bride.

“Go back to sleep.” Steve tells you, “Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day for us. You need all the rest you can get.”

Yes, tomorrow. When he’d parade you around his teammates as Captain America’s little bride. It would be perfect. His forever reward.

Tony had his alcohol, Sam had his parties, Bruce had his research and Bucky had some girl. But Steve? Steve had drawn the best cards out of all of them. Because he had you. Your submission, your devotion. You.

He deserved this.

AKFSLA THE END!! Steve's inner monologue was unhinged af. I know! Please, please let me know what you think!!! It would mean the world, please do reblog and leave feedback!!! I have been writing this for around two weeks and would love to know what you think!!! As usual, thanks so much for reading my work and supporting me!!! I love you guys!! SORRY IF IT SUCKED ASDAGNL.

ALSO please forgive me if i got anything wrong about shield or hydra or any of that. like i literally am not an expert asnglagl okaybye!!!

[lvnleah]

west end star | leah williamson.

You were lounging on the couch, Leah sitting beside you with your legs draped over her thighs. Today was the day you could find out if you had landed your first major West End role, the one you’d been dreaming of since you were a kid.

Your whole life had been dedicated to musical theatre. From performing in summer recitals at age six to moving all the way to London from Manchester for Musical Theatre college, your whole life had revolved around it. Sure, you had done a few ensemble parts here and there after college but nothing like a major role. 

A few months ago you had auditioned for Sophie Sheridan in Mamma Mia the Musical on the West End. You had poured everything into that audition. Every note, every step, every ounce of emotion you could muster had gone into your performance. 

Sophie Sheridan in Mamma Mia. Even saying it to yourself felt surreal, but it was what you’d been dreaming of for as long as you could remember.

The callback process had been gruelling. Weeks of singing, acting, and dance workshops, surrounded by people who were just as talented and hungry for the role as you were. You’d tried to stay grounded, but deep down, you knew you wanted this more than anything.

Leah had been your rock throughout the process. She’d spent countless nights helping you run lines, watching you practice choreography in the living room, and reassuring you when the self-doubt crept in. 

“You’re going to get it,” she’d said every time you worried. “I can feel it.”

Now, here you were, sitting on the couch, staring at your phone like it might explode. Leah was gently tracing patterns on your shin, pretending to scroll through her phone but clearly keeping an eye on you.

“You know you’re allowed to breathe, right?” she teased, glancing up at you with a small smirk.

“I am breathing,” you shot back, though it felt like your lungs were only half working.

Leah rolled her eyes. “Barely. It’s going to be fine, love. Whatever happens, you’ve done everything you could. You were incredible in that audition.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could say anything, your phone buzzed on the coffee table. Both of you froze.

Your agent’s name lit up the screen, and your heart started pounding.

“Don’t just stare at it, woman!” Leah said, her voice suddenly serious. “Answer it!”

With trembling fingers, you picked up the phone and pressed it to your ear. “H-hello?”

“Hi, sweetheart, it’s Miranda,” your agent said warmly. “How are you doing?”

“I’m good,” you managed to say, though your voice cracked slightly. Leah gave your leg a reassuring squeeze. “Do you have… um… any news?”

Miranda let out a little laugh. “I do. I just got off the phone with the casting director, and they were absolutely blown away by you. They said your energy was perfect, your vocals were spot on, and well, they want you for Sophie.”

The words hit you like a wave. You sat there, frozen, as Miranda’s words echoed in your ears. “I what—wait. I got it?”

“You got it!” Miranda confirmed, laughing again. “You’re going to be Sophie Sheridan on the West End. Congratulations, sweetheart. You deserve this.”

Tears filled your eyes as you tried to process the moment. “Oh my god, I—Thank you, Miranda. Thank you so much.”

“Go celebrate,” she said warmly. “You’ve earned it. I’ll be in touch soon with all the details.”

The call ended, and you slowly lowered the phone, staring at it like it might suddenly disappear.

“Well?” Leah asked, “Babe, talk! You know, use words?”

You turned to her, the biggest smile breaking across your face. “I, um, I got it,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Leah, I got it.”

Leah let out a cheer, pulling you into her arms so quickly that you nearly toppled off the couch. “I knew it!” she exclaimed, kissing you all over your face as you laughed and cried at the same time. “You’re going to be Sophie! On the West End!”

“I can’t believe it,” you said, burying your face in her shoulder. “This is actually happening.”

Leah pulled back just enough to look at you, her hands framing your face. “You worked so hard for this, and you deserve every bit of it,” she said before attacking you with more kisses. “I’m so proud of you, babe.”

You smiled, giggling as her kiss attacks stopped. “I couldn’t have done it without you. You’ve been my rock through all of this.”

“And I’ll be your rock through everything else, too. Now,” she said, standing up and pulling you with her, “we are celebrating. Whatever you want, dinner, drinks, dessert, name it, and it’s yours.”

You laughed, wiping your tears. “Can we start with some champagne?”

“Absolutely,” Leah said, already heading to grab a bottle. “Only the best for my West End star.”

Your debut arrived quicker than you ever expected. Weeks of rehearsals and costume fittings flew by in a blur. The nerves hit as soon as you woke up that morning, a constant flutter in your stomach that didn’t ease, no matter how many times Leah reassured you.

“You’ve got this,” she said that morning, handing you a cup of tea as you sat at the kitchen table, staring into space. “You’ve worked so hard for this, and everyone’s going to see how incredible you are.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Leah asked, sitting across from you after a few moments of silence. 

“Just… everything,” you admitted. “What if I mess up? What if everyone hates me?”

Leah smirked and reached for your hand. “If anyone doesn’t like you after tonight, they’re either blind or tone-deaf. You’re going to be the best Sophie Sheridan that stage has ever seen.”

You smiled despite yourself. “You’re biased.”

“Absolutely,” she said. “But I’m also right.”

She was the steadying presence you needed that day, texting you little messages throughout your pre-show prep: You’re a star, babe. Don’t forget to breathe. Save some talent for the rest of the cast, yeah?

When the curtain finally rose that evening, the nerves melted away, replaced by the joy of being on stage that you always had. The music, the lights, the energy of the audience, it was everything you’d ever dreamed of. By the time the final bows came, the roar of applause felt like it might shake the building.

When you finally emerged from the stage door, your breath caught. There Leah was, standing with Amanda and Berny, a bouquet of flowers in her arms. Leah’s face lit up the second she saw you, her grin wide and proud. She stepped forward, holding out the bouquet, but before she could say anything, you launched yourself into her arms.

“You were amazing,” she whispered into your ear, holding you tight.

“Thank you,” you murmured, pulling back just enough to look at her. Her eyes were sparkling with pride, and the sight made your stomach flip.

Amanda stepped in next, wrapping you in a warm hug. “That was incredible, sweetheart. I was in tears during ‘Slipping Through My Fingers.’ You’ve got such a gift.”

“You were made for this role, darling,” Berny added, smiling warmly. 

“Thank you, both of you,” you said, overwhelmed by their kindness.

As the four of you walked toward a nearby restaurant to celebrate, Leah squeezed your hand. “You know,” she said softly, so only you could hear, “watching you up there… I’ve never been so proud in my life.”

Your cheeks warmed. “Stop it. You’re going to make me cry.”

“Good,” she said with a grin, “because I cried. Twice. And if I have to admit that, you can at least tear up.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, though your smile betrayed you.

“And you’re brilliant,” she said, leaning over to kiss your temple. “Don’t forget it.”

[parfaitblogs]

ive got quite a few... but we will start off simple and with something ive been DAYDREAMING about for a while

so reader is a new forensic scientist that started a lab in office for easier analysis of evidence (garcia reasonablism and best friendedness obviously) and earlier seasons reid likes to go in and hang out with her often and just be with her and they are both idiots in love and the first kiss is super rushed and akward; TEETH ROTTING FLUFF

i am too cryptic i fear but i will sell my left kidney for this fic PLEASE

spencer reid x forensic scientist!reader. fluff. 1.4k words. s1 spence!! descriptions of a case (typical cm stuff). std discussion? sorta? it's about a victim. reader doesn't have one don't worry. they're nerds your honour. 

a/n: i am SO sorry this took me so long?? writing fluff is not my strong suit (clearly). i researched bacteria for this fic. and std's. if penelope garcia looked up my search history she would ask why i'm asking about how to treat chlamydia. if the science talk is wrong, no it's not this is MY alternate reality. also i am but a wee acting major i know nothing about science? ANYWAYS thank u for the request angel it was so fun to write i hope i did it justice ♡ 

"Hey... I brought coffee."

Your head lifted from the computer screen you had been staring at for the past hour and a half, blinking your eyes to readjust to a light that wasn't blue — you were a big believer in warm toned overhead lights or nothing, and it was your first order of business upon getting a lab in the Quantico building. 

Your eyes softened upon recognising the man in your doorway, and your hands outstretched towards him to take the paper cup from him. 

It was a particularly gruelling case — a man putting victims through a meat grinder (charmingly so) meant your ability to positively ID victims based on... well, anything you'd usually ID them on, was out of the question. You were down to tampered with blood samples, and you were getting nothing. 

"Angel. Sent from heaven, I swear," you said, taking a sip of the warm, sweet (because anybody who drinks coffee black should be locked up) beverage that would help you in the long run. Spencer Reid's lips twitched into a smile — anxious, like the rest of him usually is whenever he's in your lab — and he dropped his gaze to the floor with a small shrug. 

"I thought you might need it. I know it's hard. This case," he said, and you nodded your head with an affirming nod.

"Tell me about it," you mumbled, spinning around in your chair, back to your computer, waving him over. "See this?" you pointed to the list of findings in one of the samples.

Your breathing hitched when you felt him behind you, not expecting him to be so close, his own breath audible by your ear. 

He hummed quietly as he read through the list, and you turned your head to the side to look at him. His lips were pulled into a frown as you watched him register everything — and God, was he pretty. "Yeah... Salmonella, Enteritidis, Listeria... they're all bacteria you can find in chicken. Raw chicken, to be precise. Did they send you chicken blood by mistake?" 

"That's what I thought," you said, snapping out of your Reid-induced-haze, and clicked at your computer until you pulled up another list. "But then I found these as well; Streptococcus mutans, Porphyromonas gingivalis, Fusobacterium and Lactobacillus. From the same sample. And I cross-checked it with all of them, and they're all like that. So I sent that to Garcia and asked if she could do some looking into butcher shops in the area, and she came up empty. So now I'm at a loss."

"Weird," he murmured, leaning further forward over your shoulder to stare at the screen a little more intently, and you found your breath hitching at it. Again.

"What do you see?"

"Chlamydia trachomatis."

"Oh. Yeah, all of the samples have it," you explained, and he nodded his head, before turning it to look at you. 

"Well, what do you do when you have a sexually transmitted disease?" he asked.

"Me? I don't—I don't know. I've never had a—" you cut yourself off when you saw his lips twitch into a smile, and your brain caught up with what he had just said, and your lips parted in an 'o' shape in realisation. "You'd go to your doctor."

"And if they all have it, then that means that—"

"—it's the UnSub whose got it," you cut him off, eyes lighting up as you sat up straighter. "Oh my God, I don't know how I didn't make that connection. Spencer Reid I need to reiterate that you are an angel sent from the heaven above, I could kiss you."

His eyes went wide, and his entire being froze, followed swiftly by you yourself freezing too, words you let spill past your lips registering a second too late. 

He stared at you. You stared at him. It was an awkward game of who would look away first, and it went on for hour long minutes. You needed to clear your throat but refused to, your lips opening and closing as you searched your brain for something — anything — to say to break up this tension.

"Are you serious?"

It was a meek whisper, and had you not been so hyper focussed on his lips, you probably would've missed it. You forced your gaze up to his eyes, catching the red tinge on his cheeks, mirroring your own. You decided if the one in a billion chance of a black hole swallowing the earth decided to happen now, you wouldn't complain.

"I mean, no," you force past your lips. A sentence you soon sorely regret when you watch a flicker of what you recognise to be hurt flash across his face. Maybe your brain made that expression up. Maybe it didn't. If it did, it was too late to consider that option, because you were already rambling again. "Unless you want me to be serious. In which case yes, I am totally serious. If not, then I'm not."

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and an embarrassingly nervous laugh left your lips. 

"Yes. I'm serious," you finalised. Because at least if he found that embarrassing and didn't feel the same back, you could kick him out of your lab and avoid him until you manage to swap units. Or move halfway across the world. Whichever came first.

Neither needed to come first, it seemed. Because his tense body shifted, turning to face you, his own eyes seemingly locked on your lips, the same way yours were only minutes prior. 

"Is it okay if I..." he trailed off, a hesitant hand reaching up to your face, waiting for your confirming nod before his fingertips relaxed on your cheek. You weren't even kissing him yet, and you already felt that nervous-excited mix pooling in your stomach.

He was in the same boat as you, his own breathing hitching when you didn't pull away instantly from his touch. But then he simply stared at you, for maybe a minute too long, because an exasperated sigh left your lips before you could stop it.

"You know, you actually have to put your lips on mine to kiss, Spencer," you say, and though your intent wasn't to fluster him, you did. 

"Yes, I—um, I know. I've just never... what if I screw this up?" he stammered, and your lips pulled into a smile. 

"Worst thing you can do is be a bad kisser."

"That's embarrassing."

"Just a little," you agreed with a nod, watching his face fall, and you laughed at the expression. "I'm kidding. It's not that hard, and you're good at everything."

"Not this."

"You don't know that."

He fell silent, and you knew you had won the verbal argument — he was certainly still disagreeing in his mind, but he was always good at picking his battles. 

But you knew he was never going to kiss you first. Not when one hand was flexing weirdly by his waist, unsure of what to do with it, and he was so awkwardly holding one cheek with the other. 

It was the only reason why you placed two palms on his own cheeks and pulled his face towards you. He let out a shocked yelp that had you laughing for only a second, cutting the sound off short with your lips on his. 

Spencer Reid was in fact good at everything. 

He was hesitant at first, and you wondered if he was ever going to kiss you back. But he did, and then you wondered if he was lying about never kissing anybody before.

Because he was insanely good, and the way he kissed you was maddening and addictive and it seemed you were (addictive) as well, for he was chasing your lips even when you tried to pull away. So you didn't, and instead allowed him to keep kissing you with so much pace and force you thought you'd break. 

"Spence... can't... breathe," you gasped out, and he pulled back in an instant, his eyes going wide. 

He was stammering out apologies that fell on deaf ears, because you were staring at him and he was gorgeous. In every sense of the word. With hair that had fallen into his glassy eyes, cheeks as pink as his lips that were screaming to be kissed again, need for oxygen be damned. 

And actually, if the one in a billion chance of a black hole swallowing the earth decided to happen now, you would complain. Very loudly.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[archangeldyke-all]

STAY AT HOME MOM SEVIKA, like imagine coming back home from a gruelling day at work to Sevi and the kiddos it’s literally the dream. As a stay at home mom I feel like would be on your ass about cleaning up after yourself, she does NOT play around with the extra throw pillows on the sofa either. Oh and she literally chefs it up for us all days and night.

oh my god anon u rewired my domestic-fluff obsessed brain with this one holy fuck

men and minors dni

you've had a horrible fucking day.

your boss was an asshole all day, the coffeemaker broke before you could get a single cup, and with half of your co-workers sick with the flu, your workload was nearly tripled.

but when you finally turn down your street and see vi's car parked in your driveway, all your worries from the day disappear.

you can hear your girls screaming before you even get out of your car. as you walk into your backyard, you're greeted with a familiar sight: cait, vi, jinx, isha, and little fucker in the middle of an intense game of freeze tag.

little fucker forgets the game the moment you come through the gate.

"mama's home!" she squeals, sprinting up to you to launch yourself in your arms. you giggle and catch her, spinning her around a few times as you kiss her head.

"hi, lovey." you greet. isha hugs your hips. the girl's almost eleven now, but she's a late bloomer according to her doctors, and she still only comes up to your waist. "hi isha-bean." you greet, kissing her head.

jinx attacks you with a half hug, vi squeezes you all hard enough to lift you a bit, and caitlyn awkwardly joins in with a gentle pat to your shoulder.

you giggle with your arms full of your family. "fuck, it's good to be home."

"bad word, ma!" little fucker huffs. you kiss her again.

"we ran out of food at our apartment, so we decided to crash your dinner. hope that's okay." vi explains, giggling and scratching the back of her neck. you laugh.

"it's alright with me, it's the missus you gotta worry about." you joke, gesturing to the house.

little fucker squirms out of your arms and grabs isha's hand, pulling her back to the grass to play. jinx gives you one more squeeze before darting off to join them.

"sevika said it was alright. you know her, she only knows how to cook for an army, anyways." vi jokes. you giggle. it's true, your wife can never seem to make a small batch.

"alright, well i better go check in on her, make sure the twins didn't kill 'er." you joke. caitlyn laughs.

"vi-vi! hurry up!" little fucker whines.

c'mon cupcake! isha signs.

you laugh and shoo the girls away to play, walking into your home.

fuck, it smells delicious. sevika's made your favorite of all her recipies; and the house is sparkling and smells faintly of lemons. she fucking cleaned.

you might cry; just out of your gratefulness for her.

and then, two identical pitter-patters start, and your twins run into the room. "ma!" they shout.

"oh, hi my babies." you giggle, bending down to wrap your toddlers in hugs. you give both of them a kiss to their chubby cheeks. "how was your day?"

"isha took us to the park!" shithead shouts.

"an' auntie cait brought us new sparkle shoes!" stinkybutt adds on. you grin.

"auntie cait spoils you girls rotten." you say, tickling their sides. your daughters giggle.

"hey, come clean up your blocks if you're done playing! i almost broke my back trippin' over that shi-- you're home." sevika's rant is forgotten immediately, the offending block she'd held in her hands falling to the floor at the sight of you. you grin and stand up, your daughters running back to the living room to clean, you opening your arms for your wife.

she looks fucking adorable. she's still in her apron, she's got a smidge of flour on her face, and she looks so happy to see you.

"janna, i missed you." you sigh as you hug your wife. "did i ever tell you you're the love of my life? that i'd steal the moon for you?" you ask.

sevika giggles in your arms, pulling back just far enough to kiss you. you sigh against her lips. "you've mentioned it before, once or twice." sevika answers. you giggle.

"you look exhausted. the house looks fucking amazing and dinner smells great. why don't you take this off and let me take over for the night?" you ask, tugging on her apron. sevika pouts at you.

"you just got home from work."

"and all i wanna do is listen to you tell me about your day while i set the table for dinner. think you can do that for me?" you ask.

sevika grins and unties her apron. "you're too good for me." she sighs as she sits. you laugh.

"says the mother of my children."

"you are also the mother of my children, dumbass."

you grin and pinch her cheeks, forcing her lips in a pucker, and bending down to kiss her one more time. she hums happily.

"ma! vi-vi tripped over isha's bike and she's bleeding!" little fucker squeals from outside.

sevika groans and tries to stand. you laugh and push her back down in her chair, scratching her scalp just a bit. "stay." you demand.

"'s just a scratch!" vi's voice calls.

"on your face!" caitlyn shrieks.

"i love you more than words can describe." sevika sighs happily from her chair.

you laugh as you shove your shoes back on and rush outside, happy to be enveloped in the chaos of your home once more.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

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@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

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@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb @p1nkearth

taglist!!

@sevikas-baby @ghostscandys

[tojisun]

some more of my current brainrot (‘space cowboys’) of detached reader x traumatized simon prev: a, b, c

simon returns home after a long and gruelling mission. the anticipated time of completion was two weeks; and yet, he and garrick were stranded in the safehouse for two months.

survival, of course, was his primary objective, followed by ensuring that his sergeant was alive and well, but—

he kept thinking of her, day in and day out. he wondered if she’d missed him; if she was even waiting for him, even as the days kept crawling by. did she know that he was finding a way to come back to her?

christ, what if she thought that he left her too?

simon stuffed all of these in his heart as he made his way back home.

home. that’s funny — simon used to think that home is just some flat he renter somewhere in downtown. a place to crash at when laswell kicks them out of the base. but never thought that he’d find one as warm and tender as hers. one that is welcoming; that is accepting.

simon walks in, careful not to make too much noise in case she was asleep. he never really thought about what he’d do when he finally sees her so when he finds her curled up on the couch, buried beneath her weighted blanket, all he feels was the clenching of his heart. she looks so much smaller than he remembered. he doesn’t mean her body, but the… life around her.

oh.

oh, sweetheart.

he swallows down the lump in his throat, and rumbles, “i’m home.”

simon’s lungs burn at the way her head swivels towards him, her eyes wide as she blinks rapidly, like she couldn’t fathom that he really returned. that he didn’t just leave her and abandon her like he knew she was used to. his lips wobble, and he thinks, fuck it, before dropping his bag and marching towards her.

her lips part open, the beginnings of his name dripping from her tongue, but simon’s missed her too much to wait any longer, and instead, he pulls her close and breathes her in. and god, she smells—

she smells like his shampoo.

fuck.

simon tightens his arms around her, nuzzling close until he’s rubbing his face on the crown of her head in a bastardized version of a kiss, because he’s truly missed this — the careful ways that she’s showing that she… loves him back; the wordless acts of her affection.

his chest rumbles with her muffled voice. he pulls back just for a bit, not truly willing to let go of her, not just yet.

“wh’was that?”

she licks her lips. simon pretends he isn’t enraptured by her.

“i said,” she mutters, breathy with the twitch of a smile on her face. “welcome back, si.”

simon wonders if it’s too soon to truly and properly kiss her.

[scorpioriesling]

An Enticing Offer

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Lucien x reader

Warning(s): 18+, mdni, nsfw

Summary: Your roomate was a lot of things; kindhearted, hard-working, handsome... but, he was other things too. Messy. Maybe a little irresponsible. But, most of all -- deliciously, enticing.

SR’s Note: Oye... everytime I write smut, I feel nyyyyassty, LOL. Anywho, many thanks for @hardcoremarvelfan for the request -- I present to you, absolute Lucien filth using prompts #2, #12, #23, #71, and #74 from my promt request list. (; Enjoy.

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @velarisdusk (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

The late afternoon sun streamed through the wide kitchen windows in your apartment, the golden glow illuminating the otherwise darkened space. Heaving the brown paper bag onto the small kitchen table, you sighed. Sure, an apartment that overlooked the Sidra was quite a luxury in your eyes -- but for the amount you paid each month to rent this place (well, paid half of), you'd sometimes wished they'd included curtains.

Add that to next week's grocery list. You kept forgetting to pick some up when you went to the market.

You began removing the miscellaneous items from the bag -- fresh vegetables, canned goods, that disgusting cereal your roomate requested -- and putting them away. When the mid-shelf in your pantry was full, you groaned in frustration; the top shelf was too high to reach, and your very tall, very able roomate would not be home until tomorrow.

Groceries on the table it is. And... maybe, a stepstool, added to next week's grocery run.

You were fortunate enough to secure a place like this, not to mention the roomate that came with it -- you'd met a few years ago and became fast friends, and living together seemed like a wise choice when you'd both finally abandoned your childhood homes.

A good choice indeed; having Lucien around brought you comfort, as you never liked being alone anyways. Not to mention, he was kind hearted, funny, and quite easy on the eyes. You tried to ignore the stir inside when he'd so casually walk around without a shirt on, or emerge from the bathroom in only a towel...

It was his place too, rather.

You groaned in frustration when you spotted the dirty pans on the stove, inspecting the residue on one as you picked it up.

If your roomate was one thing, it was messy.

"Lucien," you grumbled aloud. Tossing the pans into the dishwasher, you shoved it closed and turned on the wash cycle. How hard was that?

This happened quite often; Lucien, not cleaning up after himself. And you, trailing after him with a broom and dustpan.

You paused, listening for another soft sound over the rumble of the dishwasher. Straining your ears, you couldn't quite make it out -- the muffled, mubling sound over the running water.

Brows furrowing in confusion, a flicker of fear coursed through you. Sure, when Lucien was here, you'd never felt afraid in your apartment; but, since he'd left on a particularly gruelling mission only a few days ago, you couldn't help the irrational paranoia that made an appearance every so often.

Taking a timid step toward the hallway, you heard it again -- louder, this time. A soft, breathless sound amid the falling water. Your breath caught in your throat; someone was surely inside your home.

You walked faster, soft steps toward the bathroom door; sure enough. The water was running, and someone was inside.

Had he gotten home early?

"L-Lucien?" You squeaked. Your voice came out less confident than you'd hoped, and your hand shook as you reached for the doorhandle.

"Y/N... oh Gods, yes..."

Your outstretched palm halted. The voice was surely his, but what in the Hell was he doing in there?

"I'm... I'm coming in."

Your voice was barely above a whisper as you grabbed the doorhandle, twisting and shoving inside the small bathing room. Steam blasted against your face, and you coughed once as you waved it away.

The mumblings stopped.

And the shower curtain flew open.

The two of you shared a shout of shock as your eyes met, his face framed by his long, yet soaking, red hair. You both stared at one another in silent surprise for a beat, before both speaking at once.

"What the Hell are you doing here?"

"Why didn't you knock?"

The moment of clarity hits you, and Lucien wipes a hand over his dewy face.

"Y/N... by the Cauldron, why would you come in when I'm literally showering?" Your brows narrow, and you cross your arms over your chest. You don't miss him pulling the shower curtain in front of his body to cover himself -- but it's too late.

Your cheeks pinken.

"I... I didn't know, you were home, yet." You stammer, your cheeks deepening in color. "I heard someone in here, and you were still gone and-"

"And, what, you thought a stranger was using our shower?" Lucien chuckles. You feel your face heating even more, slight irritation bubbling beneath the surface as your friend seems to find this situation amusing.

"Well, I-"

He continues to laugh, raking a hand through his wet hair. Small droplets of water cascade over his shoulders, running down and over the exposed area of his pectoral muscles.

You huff. "If I must be perfectly clear," You glare. "I heard something going on in here other than just the shower." His eyebrows raise in an amused stare as his eyes scan over your face. Your very embarassed, face.

"Uh huh, and what do you think you heard?"

You huff, trying to look anywhere but him as his gaze intensifies.

"I-I thought you weren't even supposed to be home yet," you stammer, attempting to change the topic.

"Got back early," he deadpans. "I just can't believe you really thought it was anyone but me in here." He shakes his head, a small smile on his face.

"I suppose it's because of all the moaning and ... and, and words coming from inside this room." You try to remain confident, but falter as you notice his gaze lowering to your chest. Bad day to opt for a tank top.

"There's nothing wrong with relieving stress -- why is that so unbelieveable?" He quirks a brow.

You feel the familiar swirl inside your abdomen.

You swallow hard. "I guess... it was quite unbelieveable to think you'd be the one in here, saying, and... doing those things." He chuckles, and you catch sight of his erection pushing against the shower curtain. You quickly look away.

"More likely a stanger, than me, hm?" He tuts.

You gulp. "I suppose so."

Its quiet for an awkward moment, you trying not to stare at your half-covered gorgeous roomate as his eyes trail you up and down; so agonizingly slow.

"Y/N... you don't have to pretend to not stare." He chuckles. "In fact, you could join me-"

Your mouth opens in shock. "Lucien Vanserra! You're not seriously suggesting that--"

"Oh, I am." He grins, like a feline about to pounce on a little mouse. You shake your head in disbelief, the swirling in your stomach a full on tornado at this point.

You scoff, folding your arms over your chest once more. "What, you need me to help you?" You ask. He shrugs, moving to close the shower curtain. Taking a timid step forward, you begin to shrug off your shorts before thinking too long about it.

"Only if you're willing," he muses, his voice once again muffled by the cloth.

"What an enticing offer," you quip, glancing to the mirror at your reflection.

Your cheeks burn, the sensation in your abdomen becoming near unbearable. Were you really about to fuck your roomate? So many nights you'd spent together, doing seemingly harmless things; watching movies, reading together, preparing dinner.

Many of those nights, you went to bed with your hand between your thighs.

Pulling back the shower curtain lightly, you let out a nervous laugh as he came into full view. His back was to you, which made it easier to slip in behind him.

He turned, his eyes immediately wavering from your face to trace over every curve you had to offer. His bottom lip drew lightly between his teeth.

"Seems like you could use my help," you chatter, nerves propelling your mouth to move. "If you clean yourself as well as you clean your dishes-"

His hand gripped your waist, the other grabbing the back of your neck as he pulled you to him. His mouth crashed into yours, his lips moving and gliding along yours alike as he devoured your kiss. Your hands found his shoulders, gripping and tracing along the toned muscle there. It was only after his tongue had slipped in that you let out a soft moan, and he pulled back from you.

"Y/N... I-" His words were cut off as you reached between you two, gripping his hardened length that had been pushing against your stomach. His breath caught, and his eyes stared for only a moment where your hand held him before looking directly down into your eyes.

"Please..." he breathed out, his pupils blown wide with desire. You moved your hand up and down, how you'd fantasized doing many times before. You could feel him hardening more in your hand, and he reached one of his hands up to play with your nipple. You gasped, and he leaned back against the shower wall as you sped up your minstrations.

"I... I... oh Gods, Y/N," he breathed out. His other hand reached behind you, his fingers pressing into the curve of your ass where it met your thigh. You smirked, looking up at him in this state.

"You, what, pretty boy?" His eyes opened as he looked to you, doe-eyed and putting on a show. "Can't even finish a sentence as I jerk you off, hmm?"

His brows furrow, his teasing from earlier seeming to finally catch up with him. His one hand leaves your butt, gripping your wrist that pumps him; the other one clasps your throat.

"Don't act so innocent," he growls, and you clench your thighs, his tone sending a wave of heat straight to your clit.

"Get on your knees."

You make quick work of lowering yourself onto the shower floor, the warmed tile pressing against your knees as you sit back on them. His hand grabs your hair in a makeshift ponytail, forcing you to look up at him. His free hand yanks on his erection -- a sight worth salivating over.

"Open that fuckin' mouth."

Happy to oblige, you open, laying your tongue out flat for him to see. He groans, his fist pumping his dick faster.

You lean forward, your tongue meeting the bottom of his length as he removes his hand. You replace it with your own near the base, holding him steady as you lick a fat stripe along his cock. Continuing your teasing, you trace your tongue along the vein running from the base to his tip; all the while lightly circling your hand at the bottom.

"Mmmm... 'love the way you taste," You groan, and gasp when he grabs your head with both hands.

"Don't... stop, the teasing," he pants, pushing your ehad closer to his throbbing dick. You take one breath before shoving it in your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat.

"Fuck," he grunts, as you start moving forward and back along his angry length. You hollow your cheeks, sucking him hard as his hips start thrusting against you.

"Mhm... fuck, Y/N, taking it so good," he groans, his grip on your hair tightening. You move quicker, his hips fucking his cock into your mouth harder and harder -- so hard you gag. He throws his head back with an unrestrained moan, and you gaze up at him through your tear-filled eyes. The sight of him, so vulnerable and needy like this...

You reach your free hand between your legs, your fingers finding the buzzing bundle of nerves near your core. He looks down at you once more, his length twitching inside your mouth.

"Yes... yes, play with that pussy," he gasps, his eyes squeezing shut as he tries to prolong his orgasm. "Fuck... oh, fuck-"

He yanks your hair, pulling your mouth flush against his pelvis as he releases, hot spurts of cum coating the back of your throat. You cough as he gasps, yanking his dick out of your mouth before leaning down to grab your jaw hard.

"Swallow all of it."

You do, gulping before gasping for air. He leans back against the shower wall, smirking at you as he offers a hand to help you up. You reach up, positioning the showerhead so the water hits you directly.

Bathing in the warmth for a few minutes, your breath quickens as your roomate reaches for you, his deft fingers tracing along the curve of your waist before one reaches your throbbing core. Your breath hitches, and you grab onto his shoulders as he looks to you with pure lust in his eyes.

"Lucien..." you say breathlessly. "You... you already came-"

"Mhm," he says, his tone low as he presses a kiss just below your ear. "But you didn't."

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

[katsu2ji]

wholeheartedly — t. kageyama

a/n: something sweet worthy of a sweet boy. tobio kageyama oh how i love you

the best part of tobio's day has always been getting to come home to you.

had you told tobio kageyama back in high school that he'd have someone to come home to, he would have genuinely thought you were mistaken. the idea of someone to return to at the end of everyday—someone waiting for him, ready to love him and be loved by him in return—was not something that he saw happening in his future. it's not that he was against it, just that it was something he hadn't really prioritized.

going pro with volleyball? no question. but falling in love? absolutely not.

and yet, when the schweiden adlers finally finish their long, gruelling practice at the end of the night, it's you who's on his mind; every night, like clockwork.

he helps shag the balls, takes a shower, says goodbye to his teammates and coach and heads out the door. he takes the same train every time, sitting in the same spot, and texts you to let you know that he's on the way home as soon as he sits down. you're probably already asleep, he thinks, but he's texting you anyway, typing the words out and hitting send. he puts his headphones in and closes his eyes, and the only thing on his mind as he lets the soreness of the day wash over him is how he can't wait to fall asleep next to you.

when he gets home and the lights are out, he knows that he was right—you had fallen asleep. he's careful as he slips his shoes off, sighing as he lets his gym bag slide from his shoulders and onto the couch. he doesn't even bother unpacking his stuff and getting it ready for the next day; all he wants is you.

he stumbles into the shared bedroom, barely being able to see with most of the lights off but refusing to turn anything on in fear of waking you up. he smiles when he sees your sleeping figure, curled up on your side of the bed and hugging his pillow. his heart gives a small squeeze then, a feeling he's still getting used to—all these years, and he still can't believe that it's possible to love someone this much, to have so much love in his heart that he didn't even know could exist in such a large capacity. and yet, here you were as living proof. love incarnate, he thinks.

it's not long before he finally is able to lay in bed with you like he's been wanting, holding you close as he lets out a sigh. he can't help but spare a glance at you, watching your face as you slept. god, you were so cute when you were sleeping, peaceful and content and beautiful. and it's in that moment that he's certain he could spend the rest of his life loving you like this—softly, gently, wholeheartedly. he feels his heart swell with an unmistakeable feeling of tenderness as he places a kiss to your temple, before drifting off peacefully.

he'd never knew a life like this was possible before meeting you, that a love so simple could be so sweet. but now that he'd had a taste of it, he can't imagine a life like any other. tobio kageyama was certain that he would do anything, give up everything, as long as it meant he would be able to come home to you.

katsu2ji © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything of the sort with my work! i work very hard and you simply do not have my permission.

[cs-fox]

JUST TO HEAR MY NAME | SIMON RILEY X FEM!READER

hiiii

daily fix of Simon content ❤️

______________________________________________________________

It was a while ago now, when Johnny had told you your Lieutenant’s name. Simon Riley… god help you when that name fell off your tongue.

You’d struggled to address the man as Ghost ever since, pure reflex demanding you used his proper name. But, you’d managed to keep up a facade of professionalism.

Until mission briefing post a particularly gruelling mission.

You sat between three of your teammates - twitching and trying not to yawn as your Captain droned on.

‘Can’t wait to downgear, holy fuck,’ you mumbled to yourself, and to your surprise, you felt Ghost shift next to you, and rumble, ‘Damn right.’

You allowed a quiet chuckle to escape your lips.

Soon enough, you were back in the armoury, standing alongside Ghost and shoving your gear unceremoniously back into it’s respective alcoves.

‘Don’t ever want to do that again,’ you sniffed, unstrapping your holster and bundling it up. ‘I mean, it’s probably almost second nature for someone like you, Si - oh.’

Your cheeks flushed, but Ghost just asked coolly, ‘Who told you that name, luv?’

‘Um - Soap did.’ you immediately winced. ‘I’m sorry, sir…’

Ghost just hummed. ‘Say it again, luv. Sounds nice with your voice.’

‘S-Simon.’

______________________________________________________________

short and sweet this time x

[nadvs]

hi I’m current obsessed with swte universe 😭

would you write a blurb showing us how rafe and the reader dealt with the pregnancy? Specially after finding out it was twins. Like her mood changes and how Rafe dealt with all of that. Oh and if you could also show us about the day the babies were born 🥹🎉

omg thank you so much 🥹 yes of course!! i wrote a little pregnancy blurb and will do the birth story separately 🥰

based on this fic

» au masterlist

rafe is already protective as hell. but when he finds out she’s pregnant, it reaches a new level. he doesn’t even let her try to reach something off of the top shelf in the kitchen.

“i need to be active,” she says to him as he hands her the pan she was trying to grab. “it’s not good for me or the baby if i don’t move around.”

“then take walks,” rafe says, towering over her. “but if you need to reach something, get me.”

“what if you’re not home?”

“then wait for me to get home.”

she rolls her eyes, irritated but mostly endeared that he’s being so careful.

she gets morning sickness. and afternoon sickness. and night sickness. every time she retches in the bathroom and rafe is home to hear it, she comes out to see him standing by the door, a concerned wince on his face and a glass of water in his hand.

“you okay?” he asks.

she just shakes her head no and takes the glass.

when she reaches eight weeks, they go for her first ultrasound. she can tell something’s up when the technician who’s scanning her stomach seems to straighten up a few minutes in, then continues to take photos.

“is everything okay?” she asks nervously.

“yup,” the tech says. a few gruelling minutes pass by before she turns the screen towards her and rafe.

“i just wanted to confirm before telling you,” the tech explains, “i’m detecting two heartbeats. you’re having twins.”

they speechlessly watch the black and grey screen, following the tech’s finger as she points at a faint blinking.

“there’s one…” she says, then moves, “and two.”

“two,” rafe repeats. he’s still wrapping his head around the fact that he just saw his baby’s heartbeat, let alone two. he meets eyes with his girlfriend, both of them astonished.

a smile grows on his face, his warm hand wrapping around hers. but she’s still in shock.

“w-wow,” she stutters. “you’re sure?”

“positive,” the tech replies.

“i guess, um,” she says, “i guess my doctor will talk to me about it, but is there a higher risk of complications?”

all she’s been reading about is general, common, one-baby pregnancy. this is throwing her for a loop.

“it’s different for every woman,” she tells her, “but you’ll probably have more appointments than you expected just because doctors prefer to monitor multiple births closer.”

“okay,” she says. “thank you.”

“i’ll be sending the images to your doctor and she’ll follow up,” she says, handing her a wad of paper towels. “congratulations. i’ll give you some space to clean the gel and you can head out the same way you came in.”

the tech leaves the room. she meets her boyfriend’s eyes, still unable to crack a smile.

“you okay?” rafe asks.

“i’m…” she begins. “i can’t believe this. this whole time, i’ve been picturing… but there’s… there’s two?”

“there’s two,” he says. he can see how anxious she is. “i’ll be with you through it all.”

“i’m gonna get huge,” she says, shaking her head as she wipes the gel off her stomach.

“i hope so,” he replies. “future nba stars in there. they need to be tall.”

“god,” she says. “twins. why’d you do this to me?”

“i’m efficient.”

she meets his eyes, finally smiling.

“i’m glad you’re so happy,” she tells him.

he looks at her with soft eyes. he knows she’s still harboring a fear that rafe will treat their child like she was treated by her father. he’s learned not to take it personally. but even if he did, he’s determined not to stress her out at all through these nine months, so he wouldn’t say anything anyway.

“are you? happy?” he asks. he realizes he’s kind of fearful, too. maybe she’ll just be worried throughout the pregnancy. maybe they will face complications.

“yes,” she breathes. “i just need to shock to wear off first.”

sure enough, the doctor confirms it. she tells them that multiple pregnancies are riskier, but that they’ll monitor her closely.

as she gets heavier, she gets more irritable and demanding. rafe hates himself for it, but he gets frustrated at times, especially when he’s had a long day and comes home to their penthouse condo to see her on the couch, looking like she’s annoyed he’s home.

he never says anything when he’s irritated. but she can read him like a book.

“why are you mad at me?” she snaps, following him into the bedroom one night after he gets home from the gym.

“i didn’t say a word,” rafe mumbles.

“i can see it on your face,” he says. “what, is it because i don’t have dinner waiting? the smell of anything cooking makes me hurl, you know.”

“i know,” he says, throwing his gym clothes in the hamper. “i’m not mad.”

“can’t you look at me?”

rafe sighs and turns to look at her, her belly round and protruding under her shirt.

“you’re not even happy to be home,” she says, her hands on her hips.

“i am,” he says. “i’m just tired.”

“and i’m not? i have not one, but two things draining me of everything in me every second of every day. i don’t get any breaks. i can’t sleep.”

“i know,” he breathes. “i’m sorry. did you eat?”

“you think i’m stupid enough to be skipping meals? i’m nourishing them,” she says, touching her stomach. “don’t worry about that.”

“i meant…” rafe scratches the back of his neck. he refuses to lose his temper on her when she’s in this state; especially because she’s suffering for both of them. “for you. did you eat?”

“yes,” she says, her hard expression faltering a bit.

“can i get you anything? you have any cravings?”

“not right now,” she replies.

he nods and turns to finish emptying his gym bag.

“i’m making a protein shake soon. you want one, too?” he asks, his back to her.

she sighs, tears welling up in her eyes, and steps forward, putting her arms around him, her stomach pushing against his lower back.

“i’m sorry i’m such a bitch,” she mumbles, sniffling.

“don’t say that. you’re not a bitch,” he says. he’s used to her mood swings by now, but she usually just goes from indifferent to angry and back. she hasn’t cried in a while.

“i can see myself being crazy but i can’t stop,” she admits. “and i’m nervous about tomorrow. i hope they’re doing okay. i still haven’t felt them move.”

her twenty-week ultrasound is tomorrow. they’ll be finding out the twins’ genders.

rafe turns and plants a slow, gentle kiss on her forehead. he exhales slowly as she shudders with her cries.

“they’re doing great,” he says. “all the appointments and check-ups have been good. and whatever they end up being, we’ll love them.”

“you’re right.” she sighs and tilts her chin to kiss him. she hates that she can’t remember the last time they kissed. she feels like all she’s been doing lately is whining and puking.

“how are you?” she asks.

“good.”

“how are you really?”

“i can’t complain.” he puts a hand on her belly. “i’m not the one with two things draining me every second of every day.”

“you’re allowed to be tired, too,” she says. “i’m sorry.”

“it’s all good, baby,” he says. “let’s watch something and pass out on the couch.”

“deal.”

the next day, they learn that she’s carrying a boy and a girl. rafe can’t believe how lucky he is.

when he falls asleep next to his girlfriend that night, curled up behind her, his hand on her belly, he feels a light, almost imperceptible movement on his palm.

“oh, my god,” she whispers into the dark. “did you feel that?”

“was that…?”

“it was,” she says, choking up. “one of them saying hi.”

rafe shuffles closer and kisses her neck a hundred times, gently rubbing her tummy. he still can’t get the way they looked on the ultrasound screen out of his head. he can’t fully comprehend that this is really happening, that this is his life, playing professionally and expecting babies with the only girl he’s ever loved.

he can take her mood swings. he can take her any way. as long as she’s with him.

a few days later, she suggests rafe go on a trip with his friends since it’s the off season. he asks her why and she tells him “so you get a break from me.”

rafe chuckles and kisses her before he tells her, “i don’t need a break from my best friend. what’d i tell you? you won’t do any of this alone.”

by the third trimester, she’s heavy and uncomfortable, but she’s not throwing up anymore. her mood swings are more manageable. at this point, she’s scared for the delivery, fully aware that babies can always come early, especially twins, but she’s excited to finally meet them.

and every chance he gets, rafe kisses her forehead, then gives two kisses to her stomach, telling his son and his daughter that he loves them.

she’s amazed at this side of him. she already knew beneath his aggressive, temperamental exterior was a fiercely protective man with a big heart. but the way he’s been treating her, even when she’s been so difficult and unreasonable, is astonishing.

and she can’t wait to see him as a father. she realizes now that she has no doubt that he’ll always make their children feel loved.

[girl-lostconnection]

*sounds of evil giggling* If i write everything what will you, guys, fantasise about?

Also your idea for their letters to him is so nice, it’s so soft and tender and oh my god, Simon would be so fucking whipped.

He’s gonna climb up the ladder of rank like the hounds are chasing him, the man’s gonna work twice as hard because whenever a new letter comes he melts into a damn puddle.

His army mates are gonna tease the fuck out of him for getting these kiss-marked and perfume sprayed letters with photos and (omg imagine Reader who gets really into scrapbooking and journaling and every letter is like a damn piece of art with lace and origami and cursive and like is it even real???) news about their life.

But you know, laughing at Simon Riley is a dangerous endeavour cause at the very least you gotta run faster than the man and he’s FAST.

So yeah, he’s gonna have a special little box for their letter that he rereads whenever he feels like shit after especially gruelling training.

Also, when he knows that everyone are asleep and no one can see he’s gonna press his lips to the lipstick kisses you left on the letters because yeah, sue him, he’s whipped and he misses his favourite person, now what???

@sundaescreamcheese

[disco-archetypes]

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - OH MY GOD, that was so many types of wrong -- who taught four-eyes to shoot?! Whip up a gruelling training regiment for him RIGHT NOW. Beat THE MAN into him, go go go!

YOU - "What THE HELL is wrong with you, Sally!? You need to square your shoulders!"

KIM KITSURAGI - "I think you have your sports mixed up there, officer, squaring my shoulders has nothing to do with this."

CUNO - "Bitches fighting."

[merlincmgirl]

Title Kink - Commander Mayday x FReader - NSFW

Summary: Your trooper likes hearing you call him Commander, even though you seem unable to remember to say it when speaking with him.

Characters: Commander Mayday

Pairing: Commander Mayday x F!Reader

Word Count: 11,256

Warnings: fingering, oral (female receiving), wall sex, PinV sex, title kink, pushing and pulling in terms of their relationship, trying to wind each other up. pre-established relationship

Author's Note: I'm sorry this is so late. I've had some terrible news that has really shaken me, and I've got an awful ear ache that doesn't seem to want to go away. So I'll still be writing the rest of the kinktober stories, it's just that they will be severely behind schedule.

New Recruit inbound. Prepare for arrival.

The words were one of the few communications that Mayday had received off the Empire. He sincerely hoped it was more than just one recruit after all of his requests for reinforcements and supplies.

As always when dealing with the Empire, he was severely disappointed when the transport had landed and a young woman stepped off, two crates being turbo-lifted behind you. This was not what he had expecting. Sure he hadn’t expected much, but a civvie, and two boxes of supplies? It was worse than what he had prepared himself for.

Taking a look at the civvie that the Empire had sent, he hoped you were the officer in charge and that there would be someone coming down behind you. Glancing aboard the craft, he realised that he would have no such luck. You were smaller than him, already wrapped up from the biting winds and freezing temperatures. Well at least he wouldn’t have to dig out some winter gear out for you. Your face was obscured by a heavy scarf and goggles as you walked towards him.

“Commander Mayday?” you asked, voice tentative and unsure.

“Yep, I suppose you’re my new recruit” Mayday remarked, looking you over. He wondered how he would keep you alive from the raiders and the awful conditions on the base.

“That’s right, I’m-” you started but he held up a hand.

“I know who you are. I take it those are my supplies that I requested 3 months ago” he stated, glancing at the crates. He hoped that they had at least brought caf. God knows the men needed it to keep awake during these gruelling nights.

“They are, I’m sorry that there’s not more. Apparently, these were the only ones the Empire desired to send to you” you replied, shivering as the cool blast of air made it’s way through the base.

Mayday grunted, not surprised in the least. “Come on, I’ll give you the tour. The droids can bring the supplies in” Mayday instructed, turning around and heading back into the base. At least it was marginally warmer than outside, not much, but enough that he could start to defrost a little.

As you followed after him, two other clone troopers came out one of the side rooms, blasters in hand. You were actually surprised that there wasn’t more of them.

“Oh good, I wondered if you’d left yet. This is our new recruit” he introduced, giving them your name, before turning back to them. “This is Hexx and Veetch, the remainder of my men here on Barton 4” Mayday told you.

There was only 3 clones here on the planet, manning the depot? Where was everyone else? Surely the Empire had sent a whole squadron. Trying to school your face into pleasant neutrality, you sent the troopers a small wave.

“Keep a lookout, it’s been too quiet around here lately” Mayday ordered, clapping both troopers on the shoulders before continuing on. “This way civvie!” he called, and you hurried after him, muttering a ‘nice to meet you’ at Veetch and Hexx as you breezed past them.

As Mayday led you round the base, pointing out your quarters, the tiny mess hall, the cargo hold where all the Empire’s precious supplies were kept, you couldn’t help but wonder where the Empire had sent you to. It seemed this little depot was located in the back of beyond, the ass-crack of nowhere. What had happened to the rest of the clones under Mayday?

“So, what got you stuck on this ice-ball of a planet?” Mayday wondered, leading you further into the base.

“I found some things that I shouldn’t have and started asking questions. Turns out the Empire doesn’t like that, so I’ve been sent here as punishment” you explained, taking in how cold and bare everything was. It was just miserable, you didn’t know how the clones could have kept going for this long. “And this is worse than I had expected. Guess I really pissed them off” you mumbled, rubbing your gloved hands up and down your arms. Even through your winter coat, you still felt frozen.

Mayday snorted, turning to glance at you. “Yeah, kid. Seems like you weren’t the only one. What did you find out?” he asked, waiting for you to catch up with his large strides.

“I was an engineer for the GAR before… anyway, I was just looking through some old documents and found an order requisition for some Venators. Nothing too worrying, right? But they were ordered years before the Clone Wars started, and then I started asking why. Someone must have noticed and I quickly got a court martial and banished from Coruscant. Now I’m here, on a planet that’s colder than Hoth’s” you revealed, as he led you to the communication room.

“It’s not the first time I’ve heard something like that. So are you a rebel then? Heard they’ve been recruiting people to fight against the Empire” he inquired, eyes running up and down you. You didn’t look particularly threatening, but it was best to be prepared.

“No!” you snorted, shaking your head. “I was just a normal person trying to get by when I found the requisition forms. I’m more curious than rebellious. Don’t worry, Mayday, I won’t be causing you any rebellions or mutinies while I’m stuck here” you smirked, amused at his question. Did he really think you were a spy or something? You were an engineer, you had no idea about any rebellions or how to get in contact with then. Actually, you probably should have, or at least leaked the documentation to the public. Even if it probably would have meant your death. But at least you were still alive, stuck on this frozen planet helping to guard some Imperial supplies.

Mayday stopped, shoulders squaring as he turned to face you fully. “It’s Commander. I understand you’ve been through an ordeal, but this is still a military facility. I expect you to respect that and me, is that clear?” he said, voice firm and steady.

Blinking up at him, you nodded. That certainly wasn’t what you were expecting when you had met Mayday. He seemed very relaxed and calm for a Commander. His stern gaze and deep voice caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach at the casual way he took control of the conversation. You hoped it wouldn’t be like that every time he spoke to you.

Sure, the clones were all handsome and pretty, but Mayday especially looked very rugged and handsome. His long hair and unkept beard had you wondering just how it would feel against the sensitive skin of your neck or between the softness of your thighs. Kriff! You couldn’t be having these thoughts, what if he could tell what you were thinking? Looking up at him, you noticed he hadn’t moved when you answered him.

Mayday raised an eyebrow at you, wanting more from you.

“Yes, Commander” you murmured, feeling your body tingle at that word. Oh no! You wouldn’t be using that word if every time it caused this sort of reaction.

“Good, come on civvie, let’s show you the control room. It’s how you’ll keep an eye on the defences across the sectors. We’ve needed a good engineer around here for a while, so be prepared to be kept on your toes, civvie!” he warned you, lips quirking to send you an amused look. There would be no shortage of hard work around the base. Everything was broken or nearly broken. He hoped you were ready for the challenge.

From that day forward, you had been kept on your toes, just like the rest of the clones. Your early starts would consist of you having some form of breakfast before heading out to monitor the controls and the security system. Every day at least one of the fences broke down or malfunctioned. So everyday you had to repair them as best as you could. There was very little supplies that you could use to help improve the security of the base, so you tended to use whatever was lying around to help you fix things. You’d even asked Mayday if you could take some panels of the walls to help insulate some of the wiring you had used in Sector 1.

While the work was hard, you still because firm friends with Hexx and Veetch, enjoying their witty humour and the way they tried to brighten your day. Your friendship with Mayday had also developed, and most days you enjoyed teasing and poking at him. He didn’t seem to mind, taking it in his stride and giving as good as he got. Sometimes, after coming back from patrol, you made him some hot caf, pressing it into his hands and assuring him he was doing a good job.

And Mayday enjoys all of this, every word and caring gesture that you bestow on him or his brothers. He could see how caring and kind you would have been back on Coruscant, how you would have looked after your family and friends, been the person they needed you to be. You bring so much life to this isolated planet, that it’s like a breath of fresh air, for a moment he could almost forget how lonely and miserable it had been as his men, his brothers, dwindled down to 2.

But there was one thing that surely got on his nerves. Your inability to call him by his rank. Every time you opened your mouth to talk to him or show him a report, it was always Mayday. No matter how many times he corrected you or set you extra tasks to do as punishment, you always called him by his chosen name, rather than his rank.

Honestly, if any of his brothers had tried this little bout of insubordination, then he would have had them running laps around the base. A sure fine way to keeping warm. And although his brothers were too well trained to forget such things like rank, he knew he let you off a lot lighter than he would any of them.

“Mayday” you called, holding the datapad that you had to give him tightly in your hand.

From where you were standing, you saw his back stiffen and straighten up. Hexx seemed just as confused as he cocked his helmeted head at you before looking at his Commander.

“Mayday, I have the report you wanted about the defences on Sector 3. They seem to be holding out most of the time, but in the last month, they’ve been a bit spotty. Working only 81% of the time” you reported to him, handing him the datapad.

Even though he was wearing his bucket, you knew that you were riling him up. As he gripped the datapad firmly, his movements stiff and precise as he took it off you, the thought of his face scrunched up into an annoyed scowl had you amused. Flashing a grin and a nod at both of them, you spun around and headed back to your position.

“Sir?” Hexx asked, looking between his Commander and the civvie who was walking away from them.

“It’s a civvie thing, I’ll handle it later” Mayday excused, shaking his head. “We were talking about the droid maintenance” he prompted his vod, half listening to the conversation, the other half planning on how he would get you back.

As you were busy with fixing and insulating a few wires in the cargo hold, a heavily armoured body plopped down beside you. Ignoring them for now, you tried to join the two broken pieces together, but you yelped as a sharp zap landed on your fingertips.

A muffled laugh came from beside you, and you turned to glare at Mayday. “What do you want?” you demanded, sucking your fingertips in the hopes of getting rid of the pain.

“That’s one way to stay warm I suppose” he remarked, tugging off his bucket and placing it beside him. He took your hand in his, examining the burnt patches of skin on your fingers. “You realise you’ll be loosing feeling in your fingers if you keep getting zapped all the time” he remarked, placing your cold fingers on his armour.

It was immediately soothing, and you grumbled because you didn’t want him to think he had won. But it did feel nice to have your fingers cooled by his armour and it was helping with the pain. “Hazard of the job, I’m afraid” you murmured, shrugging slightly as you looked back at the wires. Maybe if you could solder them together, they would still work. But you had to get this fixed, otherwise the sensors would never work again.

“Can I borrow your gloves?” you requested, looking back at him.

Mayday shot you a surprised look, dropping your hand against his armour. “What? Just so you can burn holes into them? We don’t get supply requisitions for armour and stuff you know” he drawled, but was still stripping off his gloves to pass them to you.

“Thanks, I just need them so I can reconnect these wires. And I’m not going to burn them!” you mumbled, slipping them onto your hands. They were a lot bigger than you had expected, and you tugged them up as far as you could go. But there were still too big and they flopped around your fingers. Oh well, they would have to do.

Mayday hid his snort behind his hand as he watched how adorable you looked in his gloves. Carefully keeping an eye on you in case you got hurt again, he relaxed back into the wall behind him. He liked watching you work, the way your attention zeroed in on the problem. The cute little way your brow scrunched up when something didn’t go right or you had to think of another quick fix. A few strands of your hair was hanging into your face, falling loose from the bun you had shoved your hair into. It softened your features, even if you were concentrating on reconnecting the wires.

“Pass me that tool next to your knee, will you?”

Mayday blinked, looking around him at the array of tools laying by him. He picked the closest one to his knee up and handed it to you.

As you brought it up to the wires, you couldn’t help but scowl and thrust it back into his chest. “No, not that one, May! Your other knee!” you snapped, holding your hand out ready.

He huffed, as he always did when you called him by his name instead of rank. Looking down, he did see a tool under his leg, covered by his armour plate. “Not my fault I couldn’t feel it under all this armour” he retorted, passing it over to you.

“Yeah, bloody things are massive. I don’t know how you can carry all that around with you” you said, glancing at him briefly before returning back to your work.

“Discipline. Something you’ve never heard of” he remarked dryly, shaking his head. You wouldn’t have lasted 5 minutes in ARC training.

Snorting, you couldn’t help but agree. Although you had been part of the GAR, discipline had never really been your thing. You were more into the freedom of making your own choices. A luxury you knew you had, especially when compared to the clones. They had little choice to fight in the war, and even less of a choice with the Empire. It was no wonder that Mayday clung to discipline and respect, when it was all that he knew during his time in the GAR. It probably gave him a lost of comfort.

“So, you didn’t answer my question. What has you annoying me while I’m trying to work?” you said, biting your lip as you used the tool in your hand to connect the wires together.

“As much as I enjoy your company, I need you to head to the sensors on the Eastern side. Something isn’t working right, the readings are going haywire. I’ll send Veetch with you to keep an eye out while you work” Mayday instructed, bringing up a map of the compound and pointing out which sensor was playing up.

Sighing heavily, you couldn’t help but agree to go. “Fine, it’ll probably be a fuse. I’ll head out as soon as I finish this” you grumbled, dreading going out there again. You’d fixed one just this morning and had only just gotten some semblance of warmth back into you. God you hated this planet.

Mayday grunted as he pushed himself up, patting your knee on the way. “Good girl!” he murmured, voice low and tired as he ran a hand through his long hair, “I’ll have Veetch meet you outside.”

Instantly heat rushed through your body and you blinked in surprise at your reaction to his words. They curled around your body like heated wisps, skimming over your arms, your middle and down your legs. The apex of your thighs felt damp and you shook yourself at the thought of him calling you that in very different circumstances.

“MAYDAY!” you screamed, rushing through the compound as you clutched the datapad in your hand. Hexx who was at the other end of the corridor jumped, hands briefly reaching for a blaster before he noticed it was you.

“Everything alright, vod’ika?” he asked, eyes widening at the fury that was written all over your face.

“Where is that complete di’kut that you call Commander?” you demanded, crossing your arms over your chest as you came to a halt in front of him. Anger curled in your stomach at the message you had received off the Empire. Another 6 months on this planet before there was to be any more communication from them. How could this be right? How could you and the clones just be left here on this ice ball with sub-standard supplies and raiders picking you off one by one? How had Mayday just taken all of these orders and been okay with them?

“Technically you should be calling him Commander too” Hexx reminded, shaking his head as he picked up his own datapad to check the diagnostics on the droid.

“Now is not the time, Hexx!” you growled, fist tightening around the datapad and feeling your jaw tighten even more. You’d get a serious jaw ache later but you couldn’t help it, you felt furious at the Empire.

“Fine, fine” he huffed, before nodding his head to the way behind him. “Last time I saw him, he was getting some caf from the mess hall” Hexx informed you, knowing that there would no doubt be an argument about whatever it is that had gotten you so worked up. Best if he and Veetch was to avoid the area for a while.

“Thank you, Hexx” you murmured, following the long corridor down to the mess hall where you hoped you would find Mayday.

Storming in, you pushed the door open so strongly that it bounced off the wall and nearly hit you in the face as it swung back. However, you were too angry to care as you spotted Mayday sitting along at one of the tables, a cup of steaming caf in his hand. From where you were, you could see him let out a heavy sigh and look into the dark contents of his cup.

“Have you seen the latest communication from the Empire?” you demanded, slamming the datapad down on the table in front of him. The metal rattled slightly with the force but you both ignored it.

“I have.”

“How can you be so calm about this? They’re leaving us for another 6 months, Mayday! Another 6 months where we’re fighting on our own, raiders trying to kill us and for what? Some supplies that we’re not even meant to know about?” you snarled, leaning over the table in front of him, staring into his dark, chocolate eyes.

There was silence between you for a moment, only the soft humming of the caf machine and the preservator being heard in the charged silence.

“Mayday! Say something!” you begged, unable to take how quiet the room was and how he just stared at you. His eyes looked sad, betraying his emotionless face.

“What do you want me to say?” he sighed, taking a sip of his caf and refusing to look away from you.

“I-I don’t know! But do something, say something! This is ridiculous! We’re going to die here, Mayday. The Empire doesn’t give a shit about us. Be angry! Be furious and ready to fight for your men!” you shouted, banging your hand down on the table.

His eyes sharpened on you and his face pulled into a displeased scowl at your words. He stared you down, letting you take in your own words. He knew the moment you recognised what you had said, because your eyes widened in shock and your mouth fell open to apologise but he beat you to it.

“I have fought for my men every single day we’ve been left on this rock! I am trying to protect the ones that are still alive” Mayday reminded sharply, straightening his back and shoulders. “You’re not the only one who is angry, but I don’t have the freedom to choose to scream and shout because I don’t agree with the orders which I’m given” Mayday rebuked, before sliding the datapad back over to you.

“I’m sorry Mayday, I know you’re just looking after Hexx and Veetch while following orders, it’s just… why are we doing this? What’s in those crates? Maybe we should take a look, they might have things that could help” you apologised, sitting down in front of him and taking back your datapad as you made your suggestion.

Mayday growled out your name in warning.

“Maybe I should have gone to the rebels” you muttered, running a hand through your hair.

“I thought you were more curious than rebellious” Mayday stated, his warm hand reaching out to lay it over yours. Your fingers entwined and he gave them a gentle squeeze.

“Hmm, guess I lied Mayday. I am a little rebellious” you grinned, enjoying the feel of his warm, calloused hand surrounding your small one and giving you comfort. “Maybe I should start a mutiny, you know, that way the Empire would have to come to get us” you teased, eyes almost closing at the feel of his thumb stroking soothing sweeps into your hand.

Mayday let out a long suffering sigh and shook his head. “I will lock you in your room if I have to!” he warned, lips twitching into a smile behind his beard.

“I’m teasing Mayday, you need to loosen up” you suggested, resting your other hand over the back of his, entrapping his hand in between yours.

“Commander!” he corrected, shaking his head as another conversation had been had without you respecting his title once more.

“Whatever. Either way, you need to relax a little” you teased, pulling away so he could grab onto his cup of caf. It would soon go cold in this weather.

“I don’t think I’ll be getting any time to relax with you near” he remarked, eyes lighting up at the way you laughed at his words. “Now go, I want to enjoy my caf in peace” Mayday ordered, nodding back to the door you came in.

“Alright, I’m going, I’m going” you assured, sending him a soft smile before heading back out to attend to your own duties.

The thought about what was in those crates didn’t leave your head. What was so important that you and your clones had to risk dying for? So the next night, you checked to see who was on watch, noticing Hexx has scheduled to be in the control room keeping an eye on things.

Sneaking through the corridors at night was not something you would recommend. What little heat you had during the day was gone. The ice ball was well below freezing on a night, and the walk to the cargo hold felt like you were walking barefoot in the snow. You were wrapped up warm, and you moved as quietly and as carefully as you could, not wanting to risk waking anyone up or setting off the alarms.

You managed to get into the hold without the alarms going off as you punched in your code, glad that it was working even on a night cycle. There was a number of crates stacked around the room, and you managed to lift one off and set it down on the floor. Whatever was in the boxes were obviously important to the Empire, perhaps you could find a way to hold them to ransom until you could get off this horrible planet.

It was a fools dream, no doubt you’d be put out of commission as soon as you tried it. But your curious nature wouldn’t be sated until you found out what exactly you were guarding. Kneeling down in front of the box, you typed in the opening sequence to get the boxes unlocked. The seal hissed out and you grinned, ready to finally see what was inside.

Just as it lifted away so you could open the lid, a hand slammed down on the top, sealing it shut once more.

Gasping, you looked up into the hard, stormy eyes of Mayday. He was leaning over the box, keeping it closed while glaring down at you. He must have been waiting in the shadows when you first came in, not expecting to see anybody inside. Mayday must have known that you would try something like this, knew you wouldn’t be able to help yourself and have to have a look.

“Mayday… I can, I can explain!” you stuttered, mind going empty at the way he was looking at you sternly. The dark gaze was pinning you to the floor, and you couldn’t help but want to never move again at the way he had you in his cross hairs.

“You need a very good explanation for this, sweetheart” he growled, looking away from you only long enough to lift the box up and put it away. He made it look so effortless, like it weighed nothing.

“I do, I do! I promise, Mayday – I just” you stammered, trying to think of words that would help your case.

“Commander” Mayday automatically corrected, interrupting your thoughts.

“I just want to see what was in there. I thought it could help us, maybe fight against the raiders or make being here a bit more comfortable” you explained, biting your lip as he stared at you, still not convinced or impressed that he had caught you sneaking around and disobeying his orders.

“We have our orders, and we’ll follow them until the mission is completed. I know I told you to stay away from these supplies, but you disobeyed me. You disregarded everything I said to you” he said, voice as hard and as cold as the ice outside. He reached down to pull you up, his grip tight on your bicep as you straightened up in front of him.

“I know, I’m sorry Mayday” you murmured, ducking your head and feeling embarrassed at being caught.

“It’s Commander, and no you’re not” Mayday rebuked sharply, making you gasp and want to hide from his gaze. Sighing heavily, he shook his head and looked down at you. “I’m revoking your access to this room unless either me or one of the boys are with you. You’re going straight to your quarters and you won’t leave until I collect you tomorrow morning. Is that clear?” he ordered, bringing your chin up with one finger underneath it so you looked into his eyes.

“Yes” you mumbled, heart feeling heavy at the way that your plan didn’t go quite as you hoped it would. And to top it all off, Mayday was furious with you. He was practically confining you to your quarters until he was ready to talk to you. It made you feel like a child again, sent to your room once you had been naughty.

“Yes, what?” he demanded, stepping closer to you.

“Yes Commander” you grumbled out, trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice. From his look, it didn’t really work but he let you go, directing you out of the cargo hold.

Mayday pressed against your back, you could feel the heat through your warm clothes. It was soothing as well as dis-concerting, reminding you that he was practically marching you to bed. A hand was sprawled across your back, guiding you along as he kept totally silent. It was making you feel worse about the situation. You hadn’t meant to upset Mayday at all, but now he was disappointed in you, a fate worse than death.

As you reached the door, he stood in front of you with crossed arms, looking down at you with a stern expression. “Now stay in here until I pick you up tomorrow morning. We are having a serious discussion about what is appropriate and inappropriate behaviour in this compound. I’m very disappointed in you, civvie” he sighed.

Somehow that made you feel even worse but you knew you had crossed the line. You wouldn’t be surprised if he just threw you out and let you fend for yourself in the savage environment beyond the base. Or told the Empire that you were another one of the losses that had struck the base.

Reaching out for his hand, you gave a heavy sigh and squeezed it slightly. “I’m really sorry, Mayday” you apologised, wanting, no – needing him to believe you.

“I know, we’ll talk more in the morning. Get some rest” Mayday grumbled, thumb stroking your hand before he pulled away. He watched you head into your quarters and the door shut behind you. With a heavy sigh, he returned to his own quarters, wondering what he was going to do with you?

The next morning, you woke up with a plan. A plan to solve everything between you and Mayday and hopefully lessen whatever punishment that was heading your way. You would run a few diagnostics on the equipment, then head to the mess and make him a caf, ready for him to start his day. That way he wouldn’t have to worry about getting one himself and his morning could be a little quieter. So, as you crept out of your room, you decided that was what you were going to do.

There was a storm raging outside, the wind was howling outside and the depot was colder than the core of Hoth. It was the worst storm you had ever seen. Even the raiders weren’t going to brave the weather to come out and attack the depot. You were walking to the control room to start your plan when suddenly you were grabbed and pulled into a room just off the hall.

Yelping, you kicked behind you, hearing a pained grunt from behind you and the hand on your arm let you go. Spinning around, you raised your fist, ready to attack whoever had grabbed you but you faltered when you met the annoyed look of the handsome Commander.

“Fancy seeing you here” he remarked, crossing his arms as he gave you a hard stare.

“I was just going to check on the systems and then I was going to bring you some caf. I promise, I wasn’t doing anything wrong” you explained, straightening your jacket as you met his eyes.

Mayday hummed, looking you over before seemingly deciding what was going to happen to you. “I wanted this conversation in the comfort of my office, but it seems I should be used to you messing up my plans. So we’ll do this here” Mayday drawled, leaning against the wall as he took you in.

“We can always go to your office” you suggested, taking a seat on the table. It would be a lot more comfortable than this conference room that was for sure.

“No, no” he denied, stepping closer to you.

Your heart began to race at the look he was shooting you, eyes never leaving yours as you felt trapped under his gaze. Swallowing slightly, you nodded, preparing yourself for this talk. You had never been locked in a room with Mayday like this, never with such a heavy presence between you. It was making it a little hard to think as he continued to stare at you. Biting back your nerves and the butterflies starting to flutter in your stomach, you took the plunge and broke the silence.

“Look Mayday, I really am sorry for what happened last night. I guess I just wanted to know what this was all for” you started, trying to put your thoughts into words. “I hoped that there was something in those boxes that we could use for ourselves. I mean, depending on what they were, we could have just put them back. I just wanted to help us” you admitted, shaking your head. You had been so close, it was still possible that whatever was in those crates could help you for the extra 6 months you were forced to stay here.

He hummed, brow furrowed as he stepped closer, your knees practically touching his thighs. “But you went against my orders” he reminded, raising a dark, thick eyebrow at you. His hands landed on his hips, really giving him the look of a disappointed parent, ready to rebuke you.

“I know, and it was wrong, and I’ll never do it again” you assured, grimacing at the scoff that had Mayday rolling his eyes. “But don’t you wonder about what could be so important that they station you out here but haven’t returned for the supplies? What are they hiding?” you shook your head, thoughts beginning to whir at all the possibilities that could be in the crates.

“I wonder why you have such a problem with those in authority” Mayday retorted, cutting through your thoughts and making you stare at him.

“What? I don’t have a problem with authority!” you gasped, shaking your head in confusion. Had he hit his head against something? Was he suffering from hypothermia?

You had never had a problem with authority, normally getting on quite well with them. The only problem you had was that you were curious. And that sometimes got you into trouble. But you weren’t rebellious or anything like that, you just wanted to know the reason why? What? How? When? Since when had it been such a problem asking questions.

“Oh, I think you do cyare” he chuckled, stepping closer to you and spreading your legs wider to fit his frame.

You swallowed against the lump in your throat, mouth suddenly gone awfully dry, eyes blinking up at him as your hands clenched into fists at your sides. Mayday was so close, and his body had forced your legs wider than you had expected. Heat was flaring through you and you tried hard to focus on him and what he was saying.

“I think you’ve got a real problem” he murmured, voice dropping to a low husk. His fingers caught your chin, tilting your head up to look at him in the eye. “You have an inability to listen, to follow instructions. You’re rude and disrespectful to me-” he listed.

“Mayday!”

“Ah!” he clicked his tongue and shook his head at your interruption, fingers briefly tightening on your chin slightly before he let you go. “You refuse to call me by my rank. It’s Commander, my men seem more than capable of remembering that, but you seem to forget after every correction” he pointed out.

Oh, you didn’t think he would notice that. The very visceral reaction you got from calling him Commander left you feeling all hot and bothered. You couldn’t go around acting like that when you had a job to do, so Mayday was the only thing you could call him.

His hands ran up your thighs, stopping briefly at the small hitch of your breath. He waited for you to nod, to give him permission to carry on touching you.

With a shaky nod, you watched as his eyes darkened even further as his hands slid up higher to play with the waistband of your leggings. You bit your lip as you felt his gloved fingers dip underneath the material.

“So cyare, I think you do have a problem with authority. Especially my authority” he breathed, dipping his head down so that his lips were hovering over yours.

Unable to help it, your lips twitched into a smirk as you pressed yourself against his armoured front. “What are you going to do about it, Commander?” you teased, your hand coming to slide it up the arm that he was caging you in with. Wrapping your arm around his shoulder, you thread your fingers through his long strands and gave him a playful smirk.

The way his rank fell from your lips sounded mocking, even when he was pressed against you. Oh, he would show you! It seemed you needed a little help to remember to be respectful to your superior officers.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he chuckled, flashing you a toothy smile that had you breathless. It made him look younger and so much happier than his usual stressed self. “Let me show you” he growled, hand gripping your jacket tightly before he pulled you away from the table, twisting you around and pushing you into the wall behind him.

Although the push wasn’t rough by any means, your breath left you as you stared at Mayday in a mix of arousal and surprise. The casual way he had moved you, the way he was pressing you against the wall, his thick, large body covering you and the eager look in his eyes had you breathless. You blinked up at him, a small smile beginning to form on your face.

However, Mayday wasted no time, finally pressing his lips to yours. He had wanted to do this for so long. Every time you had called him by his name, it had driven him slightly more mad. Every interaction with you kept him on his toes, he had taken to having his downtime with you. It would be a lie to say he had never imagined shutting you up like this, with his lips pressed to yours, swallowing your small noises after refusing to call him by his title.

With a flick of his tongue against the seam of your mouth, you felt your face heat up more as you parted your lips for him. As you tasted the caf on his tongue, you pushed yourself against him, hands securing around his neck to make sure he didn’t move away from you.

When you pulled away, you felt like your heart was in your throat, even if there was an echoing thrum between your legs. “Mayday” you breathed, taking in his slightly parted lips and flushed cheeks.

He leaned forward, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling away. “Commander” he corrected once more.

“What are we doing?” you gasped, as one of his armoured thighs slid in between your legs. It wasn’t pressing against you yet, but you could just imagine how his thigh armour would feel against you.

“Whatever you’re comfortable with, sweetheart” he assured, hands sliding to your waist to steady you against him.

He was leaving this down to you. You knew that if you decided then and there that you didn’t want to pursue this, then Mayday would take a step back and let things go back to normal. But you weren’t sure you wanted that. You’d have to be blind, deaf and dumb to not realise how handsome and pretty Mayday was. Throughout your time on base, he had become your closest friend. He always looked out for you, made you laugh when you were down, joined in on your teasing of his brothers. Whenever you had felt lost and alone, he had always been there to comfort you and cheer you up. Mayday may get on your nerves and you were sure you frustrated him, but you couldn’t deny that you wanted him, and it looked like he returned those feelings.

“Yeah… yeah I’m good with this” you nodded, tugging him down to you so you could kiss him once more. He chuckled against your lips, but you didn’t mind, especially when his hands tightened their grip on your hips.

Pulling away, he spread kisses from the corner of your lips, across your cheeks and your jaw before working his way down to your neck. “Good girl” he growled, voice unable to hide just how happy he was to have you here against him. Pressing kisses and nips along your throat, he couldn’t help but let out a groan. “Because you’re not leaving here until you remember to call me Commander” he warned, hands skimming down your sides.

Letting out a soft moan, you tilted your head to the side, letting him have more room to suck dark bruises and marks along your neck. That sounded wonderful. You didn’t expect to leave the conference room anytime soon then.

You ran your fingers through his long dark curls, twisting your hands into his hair as his lips ventured along the hollow of your neck before sinking lower, as he pushed your jacket to the side, exposing more of you to his attentive mouth.

“Can I take this off?” he asked, nose skimming up your throat before pulling away to tug on the zip of your jacket.

“Yes, you can Mayday. In fact, I want it gone” you chuckled, pulling down the zip yourself. The warmth pressed against you however, pulled away, leaving you cold and wanting.

Frowning, you looked up at Mayday, confused at why he had moved away from you.

“Yes, what?” he prompted you, sounding just like he had last night.

Gaping at him, you took a shaky breath in, feeling the way your core pulsed at the thought of what you were going to call him.

“Yes, Commander” you breathed, about to step forward to follow him but he quickly slotted your lips together once more, pinning you back against the wall.

He gasped, pulling away from your mouth just far enough that he could bite into his glove and tug it off. He threw it somewhere behind him, the other one following seconds later. Eyes meeting yours once more, he cupped your face and brought you into another kiss, swallowing all your moans and soft whimpers as he continued to plunder your mouth.

Strong, warm hands slid inside your jacket, pushing it off your shoulders and letting it slide to the floor. As soon as the garment was off, Mayday curiously slipped his hands underneath the hem of your shirt. You gasped, shivering slightly at the feel of his fingers exploring across your skin, digging in slightly at your sides as he tugged you closer to him.

“Please Commander” you moaned, tugging at his chest plate. You wanted it off. You wanted to see him and feel him, just like he was feeling you.

Nodding, he gave you a small kiss before stepping away. He cursed as he had to unwrap the fabric he had wrapped around himself to keep his armour in shape and to fight off the cold. “I knew I should have just worn my blacks” he grumbled, shaking his head as he placed his chest plate to the side.

“Yeah? Planned this did you, Commander?” you grinned, smirk plastered on your face as you watched the show.

Mayday rolled his eyes at you, already unbuckling his utility belt and letting it drop to the floor with a small clatter before he worked on his stomach plate. “You wish!” he retorted, before finally managing to get it off. Before you could answer him back, he returned to you, already reaching for your shirt.

Freezing, he looked between himself and you.

“Everything okay?” you asked softly, cupping his face as he seemed to realise that there was a problem.

“We’ll freeze to death if we start stripping. I’ll have to have you naked and spread out on my bed next time, sweetheart” he frowned, thumbs brushing against your stomach.

Giggling, you couldn’t help but agree. It was freezing in here, you’d probably end up with frostbite if too much of your clothes were removed. But what warmed you more than anything was talk of there being a next time. He wanted to be with you again.

Sliding your cooler hands up and under his shirt, you smirked at the quiet yelp that Mayday let out as your fingers brushed against his nipple. It instantly hardened under your touch and you tweaked it between your fingers.

Mayday scowled, pushing your shirt up until it reached your shoulders. Ducking his head, he pressed warm, wet kisses down the valley of your breasts. Grazing his teeth against the side of your breast, his hand began to roughly squeeze and feel your mound.

Panting slightly at the feel of his rough hold of you and the way he was marking your chest, you buried your hands into Mayday’s rugged locks and pulled. The reaction was instantaneous. The moan that tumbled from his lips vibrated through your chest and you grinned, glad to have found one of his likes as well. Tugging and pulling at his hair got him going.

“Don’t look so smug” he grumbled, working his way down your stomach with open mouthed kisses and the occasional brush of his teeth against your soft flesh.

“Can’t help it Commander, you look so good on your knees for me” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed at the feel of his hands sliding around to your arse and giving each cheek a rough squeeze.

He nipped at your hip in retaliation before licking a stripe along your hemline, chuckling at the way your muscles fluttered underneath his tongue at that move.

“Careful sweetheart, you’re still meant to be learning a lesson” he growled, fingers trailing down your inner thigh, around your knee to down your calf. He stopped at the boot that was in the way and gently lifted your leg, tugging off the boot and throwing it behind him where it landed on the table with a dull thud.

“Seems you’re not a very good teacher, Mayday” you grinned, before gasping at the quick slap on your thigh. Had he just spanked you?

Chuckling at the shocked expression on your face, he reached up to tug your leggings and underwear down. “Be a good girl for me, I’d hate for you to not get your reward” he ordered, pulling them down until they reached your knees.

“Don’t bluff!” you groaned, feeling the cool air hit your skin, goosebumps rising in it’s wake. You shivered, trying to press closer to him to chase his warmth.

“Oh, who’s bluffing?” he scoffed, helping to lift your leg up so he could slide it out of one side of your leggings and underwear. His hand skimmed up and down your thigh, working heat into your skin to warn you up slightly. It was ridiculously cold at the moment. He regretted not taking you somewhere warmer.

He pressed a soothing kiss to your hip before guiding your leg over his shoulder, letting it rest on his pauldron. Sighing softly, he could smell your sweet arousal, and he couldn’t help but run his nose up and down your inner thigh. You were so beautiful, he couldn’t believe he was on his knees in front of you, ready to see if you tasted just as sweet as you smelt.

Glancing up at the apex of your thighs, he couldn’t help but groan, feeling himself twitch behind his codpiece. You were soaked, your folds glistening with your arousal. Some of it was spread along your inner thigh and he leaned forward to lick a stripe up your thigh, getting his first taste of you. Moaning, he leant his head against your hip, taking in how perfect you were.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful sweetheart, you taste perfect” he breathed, glancing up to see your flushed face staring back down at him.

“You don’t have to say that” you murmured, biting your lip. He looked amazing down there. His bearded face and long locks framed by your thighs, a hint of shine already on his lips.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m not. I’ll show you” he vowed, brushing his mouth along your other thigh.

You groaned, already knowing that you would have a few marks from his beard and just how it rubbed against your sensitive skin. Leaning further back against the wall, you took in a deep breath before it was forced out of you by Mayday’s eager press of his tongue between your folds. His soft bristles grazed against your inner thighs and you cursed, tugging and pulling at his hair.

Mayday repositioned his hands, gripping onto your arse to steady you against his face as he flicked his tongue around your entrance, drinking the sweet nectar from the source. As he drank you down, he kneaded the soft flesh in his hands, drawing moans and sighs from your lips that only made his cock twitch and press harder against his armour.

His lips closed round your clit, drawing it into his mouth and sucking on it harshly. “Fuck, Mayday!” you cried out, tugging sharply on his hair.

However, as soon as the words escaped you, Mayday pulled away, smirking at your anguish cry as he ran his hand up and down the thigh thrown over his shoulder. “You know what you have to call me if you want me to continue” he reminded, nipping at your inner thigh.

“Fuck… okay, okay” you huffed, frustration building in you, and not just because of Mayday’s talented mouth and fingers but at his continuing denial of your release. “Please, Commander. Suck my clit!” you whined, trying to pull him back to where you needed him most.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it sweetheart?” he teased, before diving back into the sweet nectar that was leaking out of your core.

“You’re… you’re… lucky you’re… so pretty” you panted, hips bucking up into his mouth, wanting to press even more against his teasing tongue and talented lips.

Mayday buried his face into your core, making you cry out and shake against him. “Thank you, sweetheart” he grinned, before collecting your slick on his fingers, covering them in it before he pressed one of his long fingers into your entrance.

“Commander!” you gasped, feeling the way your walls fluttered around the intrusion.

“Good girl” he praised you, rewarding you with withdrawing before thrusting back in.

The whimper that left you from that had you wanting to hide, but it only made Mayday flick his tongue faster over your clit, teasing the small bundle of nerves while he continued to open you up for him.

Your heart was racing, your breaths coming out in small pants as Mayday worked on your clit as he pressed a second finger inside of you, curling them and pressing up and down inside of you. It pushed every thought out of your mind apart from his name, just the feel of his fingers scissoring inside of you and his warm agile tongue drawing your clit into his mouth.

“Co-Commander” you whimpered, bucking as much as you could into his mouth. The hand that wasn’t currently torturing you with his precise movements inside your core, pressed against your lower stomach, pinning you against the wall.

It had you crying out, the feel of his fingers suddenly bigger and just… more. Heat was pooling at the base of your spine, and you could feel pleasure with every thrust and withdrawal of his fingers inside of you.

Mayday added another finger, stretching you open and he couldn’t help but groan at the feel of your slick running down his wrist. He sucked harshly on your clit before pulling away to lap it up. He didn’t leave your clit alone for long though, returning back to rub circles into the nub with his tongue. However, Mayday curled his fingers, aiming for that patch of spongy tissue against the front of your walls. He knew he found it when you let out a loud cry, clenching tightly around his fingers.

“May-Mayday please!” you begged, nails scraping along his scalp and the back of his neck as he held you still.

He hated to do it, he really didn’t want to, but he froze. Not moving at all to aid in your pleasure.

“Nooo! Please! Please! Don’t stop” you cried, writhing underneath his hands.

“Shh, I’ll give you what you want, cyare. Just tell me what I want to hear” he shushed, laying soft kisses along your stomach, enjoying the way you sounded so close to your release.

“Please, please Commander” you groaned, tears pooling in your lashes as your eyes were shut closed. Your body felt alight under his touch, every stroke and suck had lightning shoot up your spine. It was like having fire under your skin that he was pushing you maddeningly closer towards. All you wanted was to cum around his fingers and on his mouth. But he was teasing you and keeping you on the edge until you remembered to call him by his title.

“That’s it, you’re doing so well for me” he smiled, before renewing the way he dragged you along his mouth, tongue slipping in between his fingers to get more of your sweet slick on his tongue. Growling softly, he made sure to press his fingers along that spot with every thrust, twisting and curling his fingers until you were crying out once more. There was no doubt his brothers could probably hear just exactly what he was doing with you in this room but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t stop until you were shuddering underneath him.

“Gonna cum for me, sweetheart? Want your Commander to taste just how sweet you are? Want to flood his face with your juices?” he gritted out, feeling the way your muscles fluttered and clenched around his fingers at his words.

Yes, you wanted that. You wanted that so badly. You wanted to flood his face, drench his beard in your juices until it was all he could think about later. You wanted it all so badly.

The coil in your stomach was growing tighter and tighter, and you desperately forced your eyes opened and looked down, needing to see Mayday in between your legs as he ate you out. He must have felt your eyes on him because his eyes dragged up your body to meet your own, and with a particularly rough twist of his fingers against that spot and a graze of his teeth, he had you falling over the edge with little warning as you clutched onto him as tightly as you could.

“COMMANDER!” fell from your lips as you felt your legs shake as your orgasm washed through you. Every muscle in your body felt loose, you felt boneless as he continued to tease and lap at your opening, desperate to get every last drop of your release. It was pushing you quickly into the realm of oversensitivity and you whimpered, tugging him away with the hand in his hair.

Mayday relented, leaning back on his knees and sending you a soft smile.

He looked filthy, there was a bright hue on the apple of his cheeks, his eyes were slightly dazed at the taste of you, but his beard was covered in your slick. He looked so pleased with himself, and he ran soothing hands up and down your thighs as you stared at each other, breathless.

“You okay?” he asked, pressing against the mark he had left on your inner thigh with his teeth.

“Yeah… yeah… I don’t think I can stand” you mumbled, brushing away strands of your hair away from your forehead and temples.

Grinning, Mayday pushed himself up onto his feet and wrapped you into his arms. He could feel your trembling form against his, and he hoped it was from your release, rather than the cold. “Well, I guess as I’m to blame for that, I’d best keep you up” he teased, pressing a small kiss to the corner of your lips.

You licked your lips, tasting the slight hint of your release. Resting your head against his, you shared the same breath, content to just press against each other for now. However you noticed the way his codpiece was pressed against your hip, grinding slightly against you in a way that suggested Mayday didn’t even notice he was doing it, seeking some relief from what you could imagine was his hard cock.

Humming softly, you slid your hands between you, grinding the heel of your hand against the cold plastoid. Mayday muffled a groan into your neck, as heat flared through him. He had treated you so well, you wanted to do the same to him.

As you went to sink to your knees for him, Mayday stopped you with a hand on your shoulder, shaking his head. “Sweetheart, if you take me into your mouth, this is going to be over sooner than either of us would like. And I really, really want to be inside of you” Mayday interrupted, heavily lidded dark eyes meeting your own surprised one.

“Next time?” you breathed, leaning up to lay kisses along his cheek before stopping at the corner of his lips.

“Yeah, sweetheart. We’ve got time” he assured, twisting his head to capture your lips with his.

Sighing against him, you unclipped his codpiece, letting it fall to the floor between you with a small clatter. The groan of relief that Mayday let out had you giggling. You were sure that the armour had begun to get very restrictive.

“God, they were definitely not made to contain clones’ cocks” Mayday winced, spreading his legs a little wider now that he had more space to move.

Grinning, you passed your hand over his lengths that were still hidden behind his blacks. His cock did feel like it was made out of durasteel, a wet patch formed as he was leaking from his head. Biting your lip, you looked between you, wanting to see just how beautiful he was.

As you pushed the blacks down his hips, his cock popped out, and you couldn’t help but gasp. The Commander was just slightly bigger than average but he was thick, his length disappearing into a bush of dark curls at the base of his cock. God, you couldn’t wait to feel that pressing inside of you, stretching you open.

“Fuck!” you breathed, unable to take your eyes off the angry, red head of his cock. It was leaking pre-cum, slicking his length up and pooling at the base.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” he flirted.

Although you could see the cocky smirk on his face, you heard the underlining tension underneath it. “You’re beautiful, Mayday” you assured, cupping his cheek and stroking beneath the dark circles of his eyes.

Mayday didn’t seem to know what to do with your words, so he nuzzled into your palm, pressing a kiss there and sighing softly.

“Ready? Wrap your arms around me and jump, I promise I’ll catch you” he instructed, hands sliding down your sides to cup the back of your thighs.

“I trust you” you assured, doing what he said.

“Good girl, so you can follow instructions” he drawled, “jump!”

As you used the grip on his shoulders to propel you up, he lifted you up to his waist, wrapping your legs around him and securing you against the wall. The move had you letting out a small squeak at just how strong your Commander was, but his grip on you was tight, not letting you go anywhere.

“You’re strong” you gasped, squeezing your arms around him once more.

“I won’t let you fall, cyare” he promised, leaning forward to kiss you sweetly. “Ready?” he asked quietly, reaching in between you and notching his cock at your entrance.

“I’m ready, Commander” you nodded, slightly breathless at the thought that you were going to do this. You and Mayday were going to fuck for the first time after so long of you both wanting each other. After all the times you enjoyed each other’s company and clashed with each other, it all came down to this moment.

Mayday pressed into you in one slow but cautious thrust, eyes trained on your face to read your every reaction, not wanting to hurt you. When he was bottomed out inside of you, he stilled, hand coming down to secure you against his waist. He waited for you to get used to his size, knowing it might not be what you were used to.

Whining, you gritted your teeth at the stretch, the thickness of his length pushing against your pulsating walls. It felt so right for him to be inside of you, the way you fitted around each other just proved how this was the best thing you were ever going to do.

Mayday pressed kisses along your jaw, fingers trailing to your clit to softly rub patterns along it, distracting you while you got used to him.

The touch against your clit had you jolting, and you dug your nails into his shoulders, letting out a small gasp. “I’m ready, you can move now Commander” you assured him, dragging your nose along his and nuzzling into him.

Mayday held you up as he pulled his hips back, before pushing back in with a gentle and slow thrust. He buried his head into your neck, breath shaky at the feel of your hot, wet channel fluttering around his length. It took everything in him to not cum right then and there, but he had more self control than that, he was going to make sure you enjoyed yourself and cum once more before he found his own release.

As he began to pick up a rhythm, the sharp, short jabs into you had your breath hitching with every thrust. You clung onto him, tightening your legs around his waist and drawing him closer to you. The feel of his beard brushed against your neck, and you knew there would be an interesting mark there come tomorrow, just from his beard. It seemed that Mayday was marking you up, even if he meant it or not.

“May-” you panted, arching your chest into his as you ran your hands through his hair.

“Don’t make me stop!” he grunted out, hips faltering just at the thought.

“Please don’t! Fuck, I’m sorry Commander” you gasped, clenching around him at the thought of him stopping.

Mayday let out a wounded sound, hips thrusting deeper into you as he felt you tighten around him, like you didn’t want to let go of him. He hefted you higher up the wall, able to sink into your delicious heat with long deep thrusts. He bounced you on his cock, lifting and sinking you down with every roll of his hips up into you.

Whimpering at the feel of his cock spearing into you, you dragged your nails down his back, trying to rock into him as much as you could. But in this position, there was very little you could do but to hang on and let Mayday take control of the rhythm.

“Touch yourself, sweetheart. Want to see you, ugh! Touch yourself” he hissed, hips bucking into yours sharply as he felt his control start to slip. He wanted to see you fall over the edge first, to feel you clenching and tightening around his cock first.

“Commander” you managed to get out, although you weren’t sure if it was beginning to slur as he thrust up into you, dragging the head of his cock against that spot inside of you that made everything white out.

But you did as you were told, fingers slipping between you two to focus on your swollen bundle of nerves. Just the touch of your fingertips against your clit had you crying out, oversensitive from his mouth and the earlier orgasm. You felt more slick leak from you and you couldn’t help but throw your head back at the wave of pleasure that was beginning to build up inside of you.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck, I’m close!” you cried, clinging onto his shoulders as the other hand played with your clit.

Mayday let out a growl, teeth grazing your shoulder as he began to quicken his thrusts, slamming into you as he felt his own release building.

“Please, please Commander. Let me cum” you begged, edging closer and closer to your release.

Mayday snarled, unable to believe you were asking for his permission to cum. He had never told you that you had to do that, but it sent such heat through him at the thought he could feel his balls begin to tighten and move up.

“Yes, yes sweetheart, cum for your Commander” he groaned through gritted teeth as his hips began to loose their rhythm.

With one more sweep of your fingers against your engorged clit, and the feel of Mayday driving into you with powerful thrusts, you were thrown off the edge. Your release shuddered through you, and you didn’t know if you shouted out his name or not, but Mayday continued to work you through your orgasm, prolonging it as he chased his own pleasure.

Feeling a spike of pain as you scratch at his back, Mayday let out a loud snarl at the way you called out Commander as you came. It was just what he needed as he fell over the edge, ecstasy washing through him as he unloaded his cum into your quivering channel. With a few remaining thrusts, he fell still, feeling you shuddering around him, although he wasn’t sure if it was you or him that was shaking after your powerful releases.

Slowly, Mayday sunk to the floor, keeping you wrapped around him but making sure you were buried into his chest. The pair of you caught your breaths, panting against each other as you relaxed. It was silent between you, but it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. It was perfect, just like those moments when you were in the control room together, minding the cameras. Or when you were in the mess hall, enjoying a cup of caf together in the morning. It felt right.

“So Commander” you drawled, when you had regained enough energy to speak, and you looked up at him with a tired but pleased smile. He returned it, running a hand up and down your back as he kept you close to him. “Do I still have to call you Commander whenever we speak?” you teased, trailing your fingers up and down his chest.

“Hmm, perhaps not. Not when I’ll remember this every time you do. Might get a bit awkward for the boys” he joked, joining you as you laughed at his words.

“You’re probably right. How about we get dressed and get some caf? I’m starting to freeze here, next time we’re definitely doing this in my bedroom” you insisted, leaning forward to capture his lips.

“Yes ma’am!” he agreed, pulling away and holding you for a bit longer.

[christinesficrecs]

Happy Saturday! Enjoy these brilliant fics. 🩷

I don’t know why, but I guess it has something to do with you by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 17.8K

“You smell like me,” the guy says, scowling as he crowds in and Stiles staggers back between the coats and finally hits the wall. “Why do you smell like me?”

He barely lets out a garbled sound as the blood rushes to his cheeks. “No reason,” Stiles yelps, struggling to get his footing and grasping at a whirlwind of puffy fur.

His Only Defense by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 78.7K

Stiles had just accidentally challenged an alpha.

Oh God, and Scott had just stood by and let him do it. He was the worst best friend ever. Stiles was going to kill him. Except, oh right, the alpha was going to kill him first. Like beyond dead, ripped into tiny little pieces dead. So far dead that his dad would not be able to identify him, dead.

Laying Groundwork by  LunaCanisLupus_22 | 10.9K

The one where Scott and Stiles go clubbing and there’s this broody Bouncer out to get Stiles-

Or get into his pants. Thank God it’s the latter.

Give you that thing you can’t even imagine by  LunaCanisLupus_22 | 10.9K

The one where mateless Derek thinks no omega can affect him like they do other alphas and he’s about to find out he’s very, very wrong.

Shot Through The Heart by  LunaCanisLupus_22 | 64.8K

The one when Stiles and Derek work for rival assassin companies and are sent to kill each other. It definitely doesn’t go as planned.

Foolish devouring things, build your castle in me by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 23.1K

“I will marry you,” he declares. “But should any more harm come to my father or my people, I will raze the earth itself until I feel the lifeblood drain from your corpse and paint my skin with it.”

It is not an idle warning, but from the princeling it has none of the desired effect. Derek feels no fear, but in this instance at least diplomacy triumphed over the spilling of more blood. It is all the same to him anyway. But Regent Peter was most insistent they avoid a drawn-out, gruelling war.

“Then we have reached an accord.”

Oh baby give me one more chance (to show you that I love you) by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 54.7K

“You like Derek,” he says slowly. “Derek Hale.”

His father grimaces at the accusation there. “Look, Stiles it’s complicated-“

“So when I was married to him,” he continues, voice rising. “He wasn’t good enough. He was taking advantage of me. ‘He’ll never be able to love you like you want, Stiles’. That’s what you said-“

Or the Sweet Home Alabama AU that nobody asked for.

I'm at one, and I've been quiet for too long by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 11.4K

“All in favour of Derek not dating for a full year so he can get his shit together and stop romancing people who want to kill us?”

Everyone raises their hands. Every single pack member.

Or the one where the pack insists Derek can't date anybody for a year but he ends up finding romance much closer to home anyway.

I know that you love me, even when I lose my head by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 135.5K

“We’re not mates, Cora,” he insists. “I mean look at him-“

“Ouch,” the kid says, no longer pushing that shit eating grin.

“He’s- he’s,” Derek tries, at a loss of how to explain why this can’t be possible. Why it shouldn’t be possible.

When sparks fly by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 87.5K | Abandoned

“Derek,” Stiles thunders. “Were you ever going to tell me your house is trying to hook us up?”

Derek’s head snaps up, eyes wide and scenting the evident crackle of magic in the air.

I'll wrap up my bones, And leave them by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 65.1K

The sign on the cage actually reads Beware: The Beast! in that crappy horror movie red paint that trickles down the paper in a failed attempt to appear like dripping blood.

And it would seem stupid if not for the living supernatural creature currently trapped behind its bars. Little hard to dismiss the big, hulking werewolf as a poorly constructed horror movie prop.

Oh how the mighty have fallen. Dude, cannot catch a break.

How long have I been on the hunt for you? by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 20.3K

“Well I guess accidental kidnapping is not so bad then,” Scott decided brightly after the others had finished describing their ordeals. “All’s well that ends well, right?”

“HAHA,” Stiles practically shouted, loud and unsettling enough that everyone turned to look at him. “I mean, yep. For. Sure.”

[carlottawllms]

What You Do To Me

Mason Mount x Reader Smut (18+) Word Count: 1.4K

This has literally no plot. That video just broke my brain and in order to get it back on track I had to write a little something. I've chucked this out in like 50 minutes, so it probably has like a million mistakes and it's far from my usual standard, but I thought I'd share it with you anyway 🙈

Hope you like it. Enjoy <3

„It’s all your fault we’re in this situation now.”, Mason growled as he pushed your back against the locked door. “This is your fault, y/n.”

You moaned hoarsely as he pressed his hips into yours with nothing but the thin layer of his boxers and your skirt separating you from his hard length and in an instant his mouth was pressed to yours, tongue pushing pas your lips to claim you as his in a messy kiss.

You had no idea where you were as you’d simply been forced to follow him through the building, eyes constantly dragging up and down his mostly naked body, until he’d pulled you into some random room.

“If you hadn’t come along, none of this would’ve happened.”

In between heavy kisses, his hands roamed your body, touching you everywhere and the fact that it was dark, and you could barely see him only heightened the desire currently running through your veins.

“Mase-“, you moaned, but he didn’t give you the chance to speak.

“I would’ve done the shoot and gone home, but no, you have to sit here in your fucking short skirt and give me those eyes, knowing fully well what it does to me.”

Mason grabbed your head and tilted it back, revelling in the moans you let out as he placed open mouth kisses along your neck and over your throat whilst his other hand travelled between your legs, causing you to moan again as his fingers swiped through your wet folds and went straight to circling your clit in a way that had you seeing stars straight away.

“Mase fuck yes…that’s so good.”

It was messy and hectic, but both of you knew you didn’t have much time and for some reason it made it all even hotter. The idea of fucking Mason in a random room with the danger of being caught any second as he was supposed to shoot some sort of underwear advertisement built up the excitement in your stomach and from the way he was constantly rutting his hard dick against your hip you could tell he felt the same.

“You’re so wet for me. Did something to you to see me like this huh? Want me to fuck you here baby?”

Mason knew the answer, so he didn’t wait to push his fingers into your dripping heat for at least a little bit of preparation and he revelled in the way you gasped at the feeling, but as much as he’d love to prolong it, there was no time for that.

“You taste so good baby.”, he moaned as he licked his fingers clean. “Gonna have a proper go at home.”

His boxers were discarded rather quickly and before you knew what was happening, Mason had pulled your leg up. The back of your knee in the crook of his arm for the best possible access and when he pushed your panties aside and ran the blunt head of his dick through your slick folds, moans poured from both of your throats.

“You ready baby? I know your pussy is, but I still need your words.”

“Yes Mase. Please just fuck me.”

“Oh I will, baby. I’ll have you seeing stars in no time.”

And with one swift motion, he buried himself deep inside of you.

“Oh my god.” Your head fell against the door with a thud and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You couldn’t remember the last time he’d fucked you without a proper foreplay and as ready as you’d been, the size of him overwhelmed you for a moment. Especially as the position you were in had him deeper than you’d ever felt him before.

“Fuck you feel so fucking good, y/n.” Mason dropped his head in the crook of your neck for a moment as he had to fight the urge to cum right on the spot. “You’re so fucking tight.”

“Mase, please. I need you to move. Fuck me baby.”

Mason pressed his lips back against yours as he started to move his hips at a gruelling pace. His skin slapping against yours and both of your suppressed moans and panting the only, but sinful sounds in the room, reminded you of how dirty fucking in a storage room really was, especially as people were waiting for him to come back and finish his shoot, but neither of you could’ve cared less.

Mason’s hand had a tight and slightly painful grip on your hip and you were sure you’d find marks there later, but the way he was fucking you so hard and hitting all the right spots deep inside of you was more than making up for it.

“You’re so fucking tight and warm.”

“And you’re so fucking deep, Mase.”, you breathed, feeling every ridge of hard dick brushing everywhere against your soft walls and you didn’t think you’d want him in a different position ever again.

Neither of you could think straight as unintelligible moans and words fell from both your lips in between messy kisses and harsh panting.

“I’m so close, baby.”, he moaned, but there really was no need to tell you. From the way his dick was pulsing inside of you, you could tell he was only seconds away from cuming. “I need you to cum for me, y/n.”

“I’m right there, Mase.”, you confirmed breathlessly and when Mason brought his hand in between your legs to help you along even further, you clenched around him, breathing several profanities mixed with his name into his mouth and that combined with a couple of harsh thrusts, was all it took for him to spill himself deep inside of you.

Your own name falling from his lips echoed in your ears as he pushed you both through it and gently slowed his movements down until his hips stilled against yours.

“Oh my god.”, he sighed, head falling into the crook of your neck. “That was…”

“Incredible.”, you hummed as you gently scratched the back of his head in an attempt to calm his racing heart. His dick softening inside of you making you feel all warm and giddy as it felt like an incredible intimate and gentle moment after that quickie you’d just had.

For a moment, you just stood there, holding each other and sharing soft kisses, but it wasn’t long until you heard people outside, probably looking for their model of the day.

“I’m afraid I have to go back.”, he mumbled, pulling away reluctantly before thinking of something that had fallen from the back of his mind in all his horniness. “Fuck, I don’t have anything to clean you up. I can see if I find something and bring-“

“Don’t worry about me, Mase. I’ll be fine.” You pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Just pull out, get your boxers back on and maybe dash to the loo to fix yourself real quick. I’ll sort the rest and come back in a little bit. Maybe with a coffee or whatever to make it look as if we didn’t just fuck in a storage room.”

“You sure?”

In the dark you couldn’t see his face, but you knew his big brown eyes were looking at you full of worry. No matter how rough he’d been between the sheets, Mason loved to take care of you after and to make sure you had everything you needed and were looked after properly. And the fact he couldn’t do that now wasn’t something he particularly liked.

“Positive.”, you laughed. “Seriously Mase. You have to go back in there and get it over with. Make sure the result makes me want to repeat this.”

Mason laughed quietly. “Oh I will, don’t you worry your pretty head about that.”

Once he’d pulled out and put his boxers back on, he searched for you in the dark again. Grabbing your face in between his hands he dipped down and kissed you softly. “See you in a bit. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”