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fanfictionera · 10 months ago

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My Queen (BuckyxReader) Smut

A/N: I have always wanted to write a Sex Pollen fic but every time I tried to write one it didn't feel right. Finally I started writing and the vibes started flowing. I wanted filthy smut but with emotion and feeling and I hope that I achieved that. Either way I am super proud of this and I hope readers enjoy!

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Synopsys: The reader and Bucky are sent on a mission where they are exposed to what is referred to as Sex Pollen. Their feelings for each other are forced to be faced.

Word Count: 6,218

Warnings: Sex Pollon, Friends to Lovers, forced sex (due to drugs), sprinkle of Angst, Bucky, SMUT, SMUT SMUT SMUT. SO LITTLE PLOT.

My Queen

Bucky stood in the back of the Quinjet, checking over his person. It was like a ritual for him, starting from the top he would check every strap and belt, double check each gun and knife blade. His body swayed, compensating for the slight lurch of the Quinjet before it leveled out.

“And we have touched down,” Y/N said from the pilot's seat, with a press of a button her chair spun around. She came up behind Bucky gently tugging on his back harness. The back of the Quinjet dropped down, revealing several structures in a clearing, surrounded by trees. They began to make their way to the larger building in the center. The clearing was shrouded in a dark gray filter as the misty fog creeped its way through the trees, under a sky blanketed by cloud cover, reclaimed by nature. A scan showed no signs of human life, which was little in the way of relief.

They silently approached the front door before stepping into the building. A home. The remnants of one anyway. They entered the kitchen, with a table still made. Flowers in a porcelain milk jug left dead, wilted and dried in the center. A plate sat next to a folded newspaper. Y/N could feel the shift in the air as soon as they walked in. The weight of the secrets of the house, hidden behind the semblance of a quiet life, mixed with the pure evil that seeped from its walls in tendrils made Y/N uneasy.

They progressed through the first and second level of the home. Although every surface was covered in a thick layer of dust each room sat pristine, frozen in time as if the owner just ceased to exist. One of many of Hydra’s calling cards.

They made their way back outside and to the side of the house. Y/N turned scanning the tree line as Bucky yanked and cleared away brush that covered the storm doors nestled against the house. Nature revealed the chained and padlocked metal doors.

Bucky pulled the chain, breaking it in his metal hands. The parts slipped through his fingers like sand. The doors opened with a gut dropping creek revealing a set of stairs leading down into a dirt floor cellar.

“Ladies First.” He waved his hand as he motioned his hand forward, his eyes scanning behind Y/N.

She walked forward, “What a gentleman.”

The cellar was packed hard, the air was stale and stagnant. The wooden shelves that lined the stone wall held glass jars full of canned food.

Bucky walked to the corner, moving a basket out of the way, revealing a hatch.

The ladder led down to a concrete room, with the only doorway being a gated elevator shaft. An electrical box was mounted on the wall. Bucky opened it and began to check it over before pulling the large handle down. It made a large metallic thunk as Bucky forced the handle down. A soft wiring noise began to buzz.

Bucky pulled the metal gate to the side, ushering Y/N into the car, he closed the gate after he stepped on and reached for the hand crank on the side. Slowly the metal gears began to move and creak as the elevator descended. “Why does every Hydra base have a creepy elevator?” Y/N asked as she took in the rust-streaked walls of the shaft illuminated by dingy yellowing lights that flickered as they warmed up.

“Günter did suggest rainbows and butterflies, but as you can see, he was outvoted.” Y/N tried to hide her smile as she rolled her eyes.

The elevator came to a stop as it reached the bottom of the shaft, pulling the gate aside again, they found themselves in a storm of destruction “What is this place?”

“It's a lab, was a lab.” Bucky looked around, “I don't believe I was ever here, but it's where they developed all kinds of fun.”

They began to clear the room, flashlight in hand. Tables sat disheveled and tipped over, their contents scattered. Papers littered every surface like confetti. Various medical equipment and hardware mixed and mingled with the papers, while every box of a computer was shattered or broken. As if someone punched every screen. Several lighting fixtures hung from the ceiling, attached by a few wires, while others found their way to the floor. Bucky held a dangling light to the side, letting Y/N walk through before following.

She scanned the room as she took another step, a loud popping crunch noise made her jump, she looked down, lifting her foot, to see the glass shards sprayed across the floor.

Bucky laughed as he pushed past her. “You’ve been playing to many zombie games,”

“Shut up.” She walked behind him.

Bucky laughed again as he held his arms out, doing his best zombie impression, ‘Brainsss.” He turned to grab her head. “No brainsssss”

Y/N shoved him playfully, "Can we just do this and get the hell out of here?" Bucky chuckled as he clicked on his flashlight and continued sweeping the lab with a smug smile on his face. Y/N wasn't going to lie, nothing about this place made her feel good. She wasn't sure if it was because of its history or its current state, either way she was very much looking forward to leaving.

As they continued into the next room, Y/N eyes came to rest on Bucky’s back. They trailed across his harness, how it spanned across his wide shoulders. The dim lights still highlighted the muscular lines built into the metal of his arm. Bucky paused for a moment, pivoting on his heel to double check a dark corner. His face was concentrated, eyes trained. She couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to have them trained on her.

She shook her head, focus, she mouthed to herself. With the room cleared they were moving forward again; her eyes came to the back of his head and down his back. They slowly trailed down to his ass, framed perfectly in his tactical pants, the seams accentuating his curve.

Suddenly Bucky stopped, looking up at a mess of chains, “Let’s see what's behind door number one.” He put his flashlight between his teeth as he began to roll his sleeve up his flesh arm.

Y/N watched, entranced by the simple action, she glanced up to see Bucky watching her. He smiled around the flashlight; he reached up with this metal hand taking the source of light. He took several steps toward her before bringing his hand up to her jaw.

“That’s what does it for you?” he swiped his thumb against her bottom lip before swiping his thumb down, pulling her lip with it. “Is it my arm?”

She nodded.

“Or is it my fingers?” Her eyes dilated as Bucky chuckled leaning forward, “Do you want my fingers?” She could feel his breath against her skin as he walked behind her, his flesh hand reaching around, grasping the toggle of her zipper. She could hear each tooth unzip as he pulled the zipper down its full length. The coolness of the metal left a tingling sensation as he followed in the zipper wake, his palm slid down her stomach, closer to her aching core. Her breathing became heavy as her head began to spin.

“Hey,” Bucky’s voice sounded firm, the look of concern evident “Are you okay?”

The world came crashing back in a blink of her eye. Her eyes snapped open to find Bucky standing in front of her, still messing with the chains. She shook her head trying to shake off the ghost feeling of his touch. Y/N took a deep breath, her brow began to pull together, "Do you smell that?” She takes another deep breath through her nose, “It's almost sweet, floral, its faint.”

Bucky looked at her puzzled, the air around them smelled musty and old. Then the realization hit him. "Shit.” With the chains forgotten, Bucky grabbed her arm and pulled her back down where they came, “Where is that vile you stepped on?”

His touch was distracting, “Over, over there, I think?" He let go of her, "What's going on?” Y/N asked as Bucky began searching the ground.

He turned still looking, “Just, please, we need to find it.”

She walked back over a row and kicked a pile of papers, a cracked vile rolled out, “It's right here.” The end was still intact, the label holding the shards together.

Copulation Stimulant

Y/N’s eyes read over the label, “Is this?” She looked back down again hoping she read it wrong, “This is, oh my god--no-no-no-no.” She dropped the vile again, the realization setting in, her hands coming to her face as she rambled, “I can't do this, this has to be some cruel joke. Yeah? It’s labeled wrong? I can’t actually fuck my best friend…I can't--”

11-197020-43

“Oh, come on now,” As Y/N began to spiral Bucky knelt down to confirm his suspicion, "Best Friend!?" He tried to joke, to keep Y/N with him. "Nat might fight me for that title."

"Stop. I'm serious. You don't understand," She began shaking slightly, overwhelmed as the tears began to fall down her cheek.

Bucky's smug smile dropped from his face as he took in Y/N’s state, his eyebrows knitted together.

Y/N's chest tightened as she looked up at him. “I can’t fuck my best friend because I’m in love with my best friend."

"Sweetheart" The word came out of Bucky’s mouth like an exhale as he took in her words.

“Oh my god, am I going to fuck my best friend, who I’m in love with, for the first time in a dingy old Hydra base." Y/N's mind was moving a million miles a second. A heat began to spread from her core, she took a deep breath.

“Come on,” Bucky gently grabbed her arm, "Not here, let's get back to the Quinjet, okay?”

Y/N shook her head as she let Bucky lead her out of the bunker. She could feel the heat spreading throughout her body, like water slowly trickling down through the soil, saturating each grain as it was pulled down by gravity. It felt invasive.

The Quinjet bay door began to close as Bucky climbed into the pilot's chair. Y/N sat in the back, her breath becoming heavy. "I'm getting really hot."

“Like little pin pricks of heat all over your skin?" The Quinjet shook slightly as it rose into the sky.

"Yeah-h" Y/N said as a sheen of sweat began to cover her face.

"It's hitting you faster." He quickly flipped some switches before getting up out of the chair, he grabbed a med kit duffle bag out of the closet before kneeling in front of her.

Y/N's brow slowly pulled together, "Why?"

"It's designed for super soldiers." Bucky began as he pulled out and cracked a jelly ice pack, instantly making it cold before placing it on her neck. "Which means it's stronger for you."

Y/N felt the sting of the cold radiate, "Okay, okay…okay. What's going to happen?" Her head swirled as she placed her hand over his that held the ice pack, grounding herself. “Be honest.”

Bucky took a deep breath, unable to pull his gaze from her pleading one. "Your adrenaline will slowly rise, until your heart feels like it's going to burst and every cell in your body is vibrating." He flipped the ice pack to the other side of her neck. "It's going to alter chemicals in your brain, driving up your sex drive and arousal." His chest began to heave as he began to feel the effects. “At the same time, it will lower your inhibitions and block all sense of self control.”

Y/N took a deep breath through her nose. "And sex is the only way?"

"No, we can ride this out." Bucky said as he also breathed deep. "It will be torture, an ache of a pain that will thunder through your existence. Every second you resist will feel like one second closer to death, but it won't kill you."

Y/N fought through another wave of heat before responding, "I don't know what to do. It's getting hard to think."

"Yeah." Bucky knew what was to come. How many hours they would have to endure if they waited it out. He dropped the ice pack, now warm, before bringing his hands up to the sides of Y/N's face, pulling her focus back. "Listen to me," He took a moment, “Never in a million years would I have wanted this to be our first time." He let out another grunt as he fought another wave, a smirk appeared through it. "I planned on asking you out, on a real date, before I led you to my bed. To treat you like a queen. My queen.” Tears threatened the corners of Y/N's eyes. Her heart was beating in her ears, and it felt like years as they leaned forward, their foreheads resting against each other. “If we do this now, it won't be like that, you need to know once I start, I will not be able to stop. You will not be able to stop."

Her fingers came up dragging down the edge of his scruff-covered jaw line. “I understand. I trust you, please, I trust you.”

The moment his lips touched hers everything stopped. Bucky physically felt Y/N's body relax as her lips began to move against his. She snaked her hands up his chest and behind his neck before pulling herself off the back of the chair and as close to him as she could.

Y/N got lost in the intense high created, everything slowed down and hazed over. A dull, mind numbing, wave of emotions swirled in her brain as all sense of time was lost till eventually it wound itself into a ball and exploded against the back of her eyelids. The heat began to fade, leaving a chill across her skin. Her head felt empty and tired. Mentally she couldn't string two coherent thoughts together. Her body felt loose, and her eyes watered as a tear slid down.

"Hey, it's over." Bucky was catching his breath as he held her head in his hand, looking into her eyes, "it's over," her gaze was distant.

"Shit." Bucky held onto her, held her close as he began rummaging through the duffle bag, "Come on, there you are." Bucky returned to Y/N, "Y/N, doll, I need you to take this. It will help, can you do that?"

Y/N Glanced down at the small syringe in his hand, "What is it?" The words slurred and tired.

"It will let you sleep till we get back and Bruce can help." Bucky replied softly.

The tears began to stream down her face, "I'm feeling everything. At once."

“I know. It’s the drug, a side effect.” Bucky took her hand, “Sleep will help.”

“Okay,” Y/N shook her head as she sniffled. Within moments of the liquid entering her blood stream, Y/N's eyes became heavy, and her body relaxed as she drifted off. Bucky gently maneuvered her, placing her on her side across several seats. He fixed her suit, now ripped wide open from navel down to her exposed thighs, her breasts out on display. He pulled the sides of the fabric, covering her the best he could before he grabbed one of the packs of the on-board pillows and blankets, ripping it out of its packaging. He positioned the small pillow under her head and draped the blanket over her body before cleaning himself up and making his way to the cockpit.

Bucky listened and waited for her to fall into a deep sleep before grabbing the headset. "Friday, please connect me with Steve and Bruce."

"Right away," Friday responded as two small transparent screens appeared in front of Bucky's face.

Steve's face was scrunched as he slowly woke up, "Hey, what time is it?"

"Two." Bruce replied as he did a double take, pulling on his glasses, "In the morning."

"There's been a situation," Bucky's voice was low, Steve's attention was immediately caught, and he finally took in Bucky's appearance, "We came into contact…with a substance," Bucky looked back again making sure Y/N was still out, "It was developed by Hydra for their breeding program, they called it copulation stimulant, but everyone referred to it as sex pollen." As the Quinet silently made the trek back to the compound, Bucky filled them in.

Bucky tossed and turned in bed, he rolled over, sheets tangled around his legs and stared up at the ceiling. Taking a deep breath he reached over for his phone, the screen turned on showing it was only mid-morning.

He rubbed his face before kicking his sheets off and sitting up on the edge of the bed. He stared down at his floor, his mind taking over sucking him back into that moment. Flashes of Y/N's face, filled with fear, overwhelmed with emotions and emptiness played on repeat.

He blinked away the images as he made his way out of his room. Bucky walked down the hall towards Steve's room.

Steve sat at his table; papers strewn about as he caught up on his paperwork. He heard the knock before Bucky walked in.

"How are you feelin'?" Steve asked as Bucky slumped into a chair, aimlessly picking up a piece of paper, setting it back down, not interested.

"How is she?" Is all Bucky asked.

Steve pushed a tablet towards him, "Medically speaking, she's okay, nothing more than a few bruises."

Bucky looked down at the screen, a mission report, currently on the recorded incidents page. His eyes instantly skimmed and settled on Y/N's list of injuries before swiping through the rest of the report.

"I decided not to include the details." Steve continued as Bucky sat the tablet down with an exhale. Steve slowly set down the pen as he leaned back in his chair slightly. "Buck, how are you?"

"Angry." Bucky shook his head. "For me to go through it again, fine. But not her."

"Did Hydra use this stuff often?" Steve's brow pulled up softly.

Bucky's lips flashed a sad smile with a huff of a laugh, "It cycled through. They called it a compliance tool." He looked at his friend, "Sometimes they would call it a reward."

"Jesus." Steve let out under his breath.

“They had an endless supply of compliance tools and rewards.” Bucky shrugged slightly, "I'm okay Steve, honestly.”

"I was going to go check on her in a bit.” Steve leaned forward and picked up his pen again as he glanced up at the clock on the wall. "Bruce gave her something to help her sleep more, rest is probably the best for her right now, so she probably won't be stirring for another hour or two." Bucky nodded his head slightly as Steve spoke.

Steve watched as Bucky began to slip back into his thoughts. "Hey," His voice pulled Bucky's eyes to him. "You guys will be dancing around each other again soon enough."

"I told her." Bucky's confession came out softly. "How I feel, right before I railed her brains out in a fit of uncontrollable horny rage."

“I’m sorry, what?” Steve sat staring at his friend, “You thought, that after being exposed to a chemical weapon used to sexually exploit their victims, yeah this is a good time to confess my feelings to the woman I’ve been absolutely obsessed with since the first day I saw her?”

"Yup," Bucky popped the p, "In my defense she confessed first.”

“Unbelievable,” Steve pinched, “Why are you two like this?”

“In love? Or Insane?” Bucky asked back with a shrug,

Steve crossed his arms as he leaned back, “Go talk to her you jerk."

…

Y/N’s room was dark, every curtain pulled tight and not a single light was on. She had woken up several times only to roll over and fall back asleep, not wanting or ready to face the world yet. She lay on her belly, letting herself lay there, her head spiraling with thoughts. She grabbed for her phone, the brightness from the screen making her recoil, it was already close to two in the afternoon. She rolled back over onto her back, staring up at the ceiling.

“What's wrong with me?” She asked quietly to herself.

She never wanted to experience sex pollen again, it scared her to her core to have her own free will taken away. Her heartbeat picked up as she thought about it, a panic slowly bubbling. She took a deep breath, “We can ride this out.” His words echoed in her head. “I wanted to take you out on a date. Treat you like a queen. My queen.” Her heart stuttered a moment as she took another deep breath.

A knock at her door drew her attention. Slowly she rose from her bed, just as she approached the door another soft knock came. She reached for the handle and opened it to find Bucky standing with a paper bag in hand.

She stared at him, her words stuck in her throat, “Team ordered out, I got your favorite.” Bucky held the paper bag up. “I, um, I wanted to check in and.." He paused as he shrugged.

Y/N could see the anxiety and pain behind his eyes. She stepped closer to him, her hands coming to the sides of his torso and sliding back, as she hugged him.

As if on que Y/N stomach growled and she let out a small laugh. She pulled back, taking the bag from Bucky. “Thank you, I don't think I ate anything in the med bay when we got back.” She turned into the room, “Wanna come in?"

As Y/N walked back in, she flicked on a few lamps, creating a soft glow. Bucky closed the door behind him, unsure of what to do. Her desk was sitting just far away to be awkward but the only other place to sit would be her bed, somewhere he had never thought twice about before as he would just sit down or jump in. Now? He was acutely aware of his actions, and it created a ball of anxiety in the pit of his stomach.

“Bucky, you're welcome to sit on my bed.” Y/N noticed his hesitation.

He shrugged. “I didn't want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You aren't” Y/N said as she pulled a plate down from a cabinet in her Kitchenette.

Bucky paused for a moment before taking a deep breath, "What's going through your head?" Y/N stopped what she was doing, food forgotten as he continued. "Be honest."

Y/N turned, leaning against the counter, to face him. She crossed her arms as she took a moment to bring her words forward, "Did you mean what you said?" her question was soft and quiet. "Your queen." She blinked her gaze up to his.

Bucky let out a huff of a laugh, the corner of his mouth pulling up, “I remember the day you arrived at the compound.” He continued. “That morning Steve and I were set to leave to go on a recon mission. We were going back to the Siberian Hydra base; I hadn't been back since the airport incident. I was an absolute mess leading up to it.” Bucky looked down at his hands as he absentmindedly followed the lines and seams of his metal finger with this flesh. “I probably shouldn't have gone.” He paused again. “I had come so far, the words out of my head, a family around me and I had finally thought I found peace. Yet the moment I stepped back into that room, I looked upon that pit with that monstrosity of a machine still sitting there. I lost it. It instantly triggered a spiral of anger and I felt pushed right back down to my lowest existence.” Bucky kept his eyes trained on the floor. “Steve watched as I destroyed the machine, before helping me calm down. We got the answers we needed, well Steve got the answers we needed. When we got back, I was so far stuck in my head, but then I heard this laughter, it was light and contagious.” Bucky looked up at Y/N who was giving him her full attention. “Your laughter.”

“I followed that sound, until I saw you. Sitting at the counter, a smile on your face and I swear I had never seen anything more beautiful in my life. For the first time since I could remember I could feel this spark of a flame ignite inside of me.” Bucky continued. “This spark that created light and hope and feeling. It only grew. Day after day. It grew with your kindness and confidence. Your strength and your intelligence. That day you took Steve down, he played it off, but I knew that you had genuinely taken him by surprise, I could see it in his eyes. So, I let myself fall in love, I let that light grow into a raging blaze. Until I found myself trying to muster up the courage to tell you while simultaneously trying not to take you where you stood. Ask me again, ask me if I meant what I said.”

Tears were building up in Y/N’s eyes, “Did you mean it?”

"Every word." There was no hesitation in his response as he didn't look away. "I would worship every inch of your mind and body, if you'd let me."

The world began to fade away as Y/N's heart began to beat faster. Bucky's words swirled in her head as she tried to comprehend their meaning as if she couldn't believe them. Bucky sat patiently watching as Y/N slowly walked up to him. Her gaze uncertain, he could feel the tension in the air, as the line they both were hesitant to cross was quickly approaching.

Y/N tentatively stepped between his legs. She could feel the tug of war between her anxiety and adrenaline as she reached to touch his face. She moved her thumb across his jaw, Bucky could see her mind taking off.

He brought his hands up to rest on her hips, "Look at me." Y/N stood quiet for a moment as she took in his unwavering gaze. "What do you need?”

Y/N took a deep breath, "To be your queen.”

He gently pulled her closer. His lips pressed against hers, a tingling sensation ran through her body. Y/N felt Bucky’s hands gently slide down to the crook of her knees. He pulled her up onto his lap, sliding his hands over her thighs following the curve of her ass, before pulling her flush as he deepened the kiss. His lips moved against hers with a gentle urgency as they began to get lost in each other. In that moment, nothing else mattered - no worries or fears, no past or future. There was only the heat of the moment, the electricity between them.

Y/N let her fingers sink back into his hair, tugging slightly, as a low moan tumbled from Bucky’s mouth. “I need more.” Y/N said as Bucky kissed down to the nape of her neck.

He slid his hands up under the hem on her shirt, letting them slowly trail up her sides. Her chest heaved as his thumbs ghosted the underside of her breasts.

She pulled herself off him, sliding herself back to stand between his legs again, slowly she pulled her shirt up and over her head. He reached up and pulled his own shirt over his head, discarding it. He leaned back, picking up his hips as he pulled his pants down, kicking them off. His length sprung up to full attention and Y/N’s eyes dilated. She stood back admiring Bucky, taking in his sheer size, she bit her lip as her core began to pulse.

“Come here,” Bucky’s words pulled her in like a lure.

As she climbed back on his lap her hands came to the side of his face and pulled him into her lips. A breathy sigh of a moan escaped Y/N. She lifted herself up on her knees, pushing him slightly back to get to the right angle. She could feel his tip resting at her entrance.

Bucky nudged her nose with his, getting her to look at him. She held eye contact as she slowly slid down, feeling herself stretch around him until she bottomed out. A broken gasp fell from Y/N as the feeling of fullness made her body shutter, Bucky’s stomach twitched in response. She slowly began to roll her hips. His hands squeezed her thighs as he let out a swallowed moan. Her pace quickened until her hips began to fall out of rhythm as she desperately chased her release.

"That's it sweetheart," His words of encouragement doused in an aroused tone. He felt her sides flutter. He could feel her pressing down on him. He kissed the edge of her jaw as his other hand cupped the back of her head before slowly sliding his lips down her neck. Grazing over her nipples. Another flutter. Her hand slid up into his hair and gently pulled him closer, pressing her nipple to his lips. The way she took what she wanted made him feral. "Fuck" Bucky whispered. The sound was low and guttural, skittering over her skin like wildfire.

With every heavy breath a moan escaped. With the last roll of her hips her orgasm exploded through her. Y/N's let out a choked moan as her knees clenched together on either side of Bucky. She felt his metal fingers splayed across her back and his flesh held onto her waist.

Still fully seated, She let her head fall onto his shoulder as she attempted to catch her breath. Bucky pressed his lips to the other side of her neck before tipping her head back up to see her face. She felt like she was floating in euphoria.

"Feeling good?" Bucky's hand cradled her head.

A smile spread on her face as she nodded into his hand. "I need more."

Bucky pulled her face to his, guiding her to his lips. Kissing her slowly as he reached his hands behind her, sliding them down her back. He began kissing down her neck and chest as she leaned back slightly. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, feeling Y/N pulse around his sheathed member. He let it fall from his mouth watching the soft skin bounce slightly before latching on again. Y/N squirmed, grinding down, desperate for any movement.

Bucky gripped her hips and pressed her down further as he worshipped her chest. "James," His name came out as a broken whine.

"Say that again." Bucky instructed, "Say my name."

"Ja-ahhhh-mes" He sucked her nipple again as she spoke.

He smirked slightly as he slid his hands under her ass and stood up, Y/N held on as Bucky turned them around and dropped her on the bed. Y/N rubbed her thighs together from the loss of friction. Bucky watched for a moment before Y/N let her legs fall open. Splayed fully open for him, Bucky instantly crawled over, his breath against her sex making her shutter. His lips trailed kisses up her stomach.

“How many nights have you imagined me like this?” A low chuckle came from Bucky, “Not just nights, and not just this.” He sucked her nipple between his teeth, making her gasp, before he soothed the shock away with his tongue. Y/N’s fingers ghosted over his hairline as she slid them back into his hair, he looked up at her and his eyes darkened as he sunk down and ran his tongue flat against her core.

Her fingers curled, pulling his hair as her back arched off the bed. Electricity buzzed and exploded up over her body. His hands gripped her hips, keeping her from going too far.

Y/N fell further into bliss as Bucky explored her folds with his tongue. Soft moans spilled between her breaths. She gasped as he slowly inserted a finger, moving it in and out, then two, he felt her walls constrict as he slowly moved and curled his fingers. Y/N began to rock her hips against his face. His lips captured her clit sucking softly before pulling back, letting it fall from his lips. Y/N’s mouth fell open as the filthiest moan fell from her lips.

He began rubbing his lips and tongue against her in a smooth pattern that felt like a love letter. Her hands gripped his, slipping back to his wrists as she writhed with him, completely letting him guide her over the edge.

A choked moan came as Y/N’s legs squeezed Bucky’s head. She involuntarily curled up. Bucky wiped his mouth as he sat back on his knees, bringing his fingers up, sucking them clean.

He reached down and grasped her thighs, pulling them up and over his. He leaned back down, letting his hands slide up her torso, up and under her breasts, as his lips found hers once more.

Y/N could feel his tip at her entrance, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

She clung to his shoulders, nails dragging across his skin as he slowly pushed himself to his base. She felt the stretch as Bucky began to roll his hips, slowly dragging himself in and out. He began to pick up his pace, to read her body and follow her needs. Y/N hand snaked back around Bucky’s neck, as he sat back up on his knees, she clung to him as he continued his relentless pace. Y/N gripped onto the back of his neck with one hand as she found his knee with her other hand, propping herself up. There was no need however, as Bucky held her up, with his metal hand firmly on her ass and his flesh arm wrapped around the small of her back. He watched as her eyes rolled back into her head, his lips catch and dragged up her neck before sucking on her pulse.

Y/N’s body trembled as she fought to hold back, selfishly wanting more yet not knowing if she could take it.

She felt her core wound as tight as it would go, unable to hold on to it any longer, she let go. Her body shuttered and Bucky could feel her orgasm pulse around him, squeeze him. He continued, fucking her through, dragging her out as far as he could. He was close and couldn't take it anymore. He let Y/N fall back onto the bed, as he pulled out and finished on her stomach.

Their breathing was heavy as Bucky leaned over once more, bringing his hand up to Y/N face, her eyes glossed over in euphoria. “Are you okay?’

“Yeah,” She shook her head as she let out a sigh, “More than,”

A smile spread across Bucky’s face as he kissed her, “I am going to go get the shower ready for you, is that okay?”

Y/N Shook her head again before gently pressing her lips to his. “I need to lay here for a moment.”

“You just lay here and look pretty,” Bucky pulled himself off the bed.

Bucky walked into the bathroom, turning the water on to let it warm up. He quickly washed himself and cleaned up before setting up the bathroom for Y/N. He pulled a fresh towel out, placing it in the warmer next to the shower. A purchase that at first, he thought was ridiculous but has since rescinded that opinion.

He heard Y/N soft pitter pats as she walked in, the steam beginning to form and build. “All set, towel is in the warmer.”

“Thank you,” Y/N said as she made her way to the shower.

“Don't be too long, your food will get cold.” Bucky kissed her forehead before he left Y/N to clean up as he went back out and continued to reheat the food, he had gotten for her. While the microwave hummed, he stripped the bed and stretched new sheets from corner to corner. Laid out the blankets and pulled them back slightly ready for Y/N to crawl in.

He pulled down another plate for himself before playing up the food. Just as he finished cleaning up Y/N walked out. “Smells good.” She came up to Bucky’s side, wrapping a hand around his arm, leaning against his shoulder. “I am so hungry,” a laugh escaped Y/N, her head moved slightly as Bucky moved his arm. “Go eat, I’ll be right there with some water.”

“Thank you,” Y/N grabbed the plate and took a deep smell through her nose and smiled. “You really did get my favorite.” She said as she settled in on the bed and took a bite.

Bucky sat a cup of water down on her side table before crawling in to join her, “I know. I know all your favorites.”

“Oh?” Y/N asked as she took another bite.

“And I have the rest of the night to figure out the ones I don't know.” A blush spread across Y/N’s cheeks.

“I am looking forward to it.” She smiled as she glanced over at Bucky. “I could get use to this queen shit.”

“Oh, you just wait Doll,” Bucky replied. “I am just getting started.”

-End-

#bucky barnes x reader #buckyxreader #bucky #bucky fanfic #james buchanan barnes #marvel fic #marvel #mcu #steve rogers #sex pollen #smut

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k0yaz · 3 months ago

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I loved your parent Arle headcanons ahh <33

May I request something similar but instead it’s oneshot Arle finding out fem reader is pregnant? I was thinking reader is a harbinger too and they both find out together while on a mission in another nation but it’s up to you !

with you.

Pairings: arlecchino x fem!reader

CW: sfw, moderately but also slightly suggestive, female reader, pregnant reader, arle referred to as husband, wlw, GIRLS KISSING OH MY GOD?? it’s their biological child bro don’t even ask how don’t ask and just hc whatever u want there’s like baby magic, arle’s real name mentioned blah blah yk this, harbinger reader, mention of sex, fluff, lazy writing toward the end, not proofread.

A/N: I want to write so badly but my homework says no anyway guys my brain loves cooking so much omg also my tea tastes EXTRA good today—update the second half was done the next day I have no tea :(…actually I’m just too lazy to get the giant jug out of the fridge and I’m finishing this so I can go get bubble tea instead lol🕯️

Heaps of fluffed blankets bunched up at the edge of the bed, messily piled below yours and Arlecchino’s feet. Her hand was draped over your loosely covered shoulder, the black gradient trailing up her arms contrasting with your skin dimly brightened by the illuminating candle filling the room. Small shivers surged through every vein of your body as you slumbered, stomach churning as you felt your muscles tense roughly even in your sleep. Arlecchino carefully blinked one eye open, her cross marked eyes eyeing your scrunched up expression of discomfort.

Soft fabric of your undershirt brushed along your shoulder decorated with goosebumps blistered across your skin, the shoulder strap of your undershirt sliding a bit lower past your shoulder as her hand brushed up and down to ridge along the blooming bumps decorating your skin. The constant jabs continued to rack your body over and over, a swelling ache seeming to stiffen every joint in your body and making you stir in your curled fetal position. Hunching your shoulders, you rolled over onto your side once more, the tip of your nose lightly grazing Arlecchino’s neck.

Honestly, couldn’t even think up a single reason why your body continuously harbored a pang of soreness spread through every small compartment of your body. It had initially crept in as a few light cramps, starting off bearable and only irritating you every now and then. Musing all the possibilities, you shrugged off the periodic stings stabbing at your abdomen as muscle cramps or mild injuries from your mission. After all, mild injuries weren’t anything of concern to a harbinger of your status.

Ever since you had been dispatched on a mission along with the Knave, or rather your dear husband Arlecchino, everything had gone smoothly up until the present. The two of you had carried out the Tsaritsa’s orders accordingly, and found a lavish inn to stay the night at in order to replenish your strength. Golden light shadowed across the hall endlessly, the bright glows of the looming chandelier swinging back and forth carefully above your head gave quite the nice impression of the inn the two of you had come across. After all, you deserved a nice, opulent stay for a night after getting through a tedious mission around the outskirts of Snezhnaya.

Even now as you looked back on it, the receptionist’s expression didn’t make much sense as she slid a polished room key across the wooden table in your direction, the quiet grate of steel on wood bristling across the wood in sync with her morphed smirk. You simply exchanged confused glances with Arlecchino, who was equally puzzled with the receptionist’s words of: “I wonder if the Fatui shake entire rooms…have fun in there!”

Of course you could shake entire rooms, you had one of the highest rankings that any member of the Fatui could bear.

You and Arlecchino stepped foot into the warmly lit room, a comfortable bed with draped silk covers spilling off the sides situated square in the middle along with a spruce bedside table and porcelain decorations standing proud on the other desk tables across the room. Sure enough, the lighting clearly wasn’t the only thing in the room that was warm. Your body was suddenly flooded with an unshakable heat, raising the temperature of your neckline as pores of sweat accumulated at the base of your neck. The faint scent of jasmine grazing your nostrils was too strong to ignore, enveloping you in a sense of fervor and mild passion. And surely enough, Arlecchino was affected too.

The next thing you knew, the two of you basked in the dimmed lights and gentle air tickling your skin within the cold darkness, movements intensifying as you took in each other’s unclothed form. Arlecchino clawed at your side with each breath you drew in, nails raking along your plush hips as the two of you were lost in the thick heat clouding the atmosphere around the two of you.

By the next morning, you both continued with your day, heading back to the Fatui’s headquarters as if this was a normal occurrence between you two. Upon creaking open the heavy doors to the Tsaritsa’s well furnished chambers, you and Arlecchino had knelt before the Cryo Archon, the black fluff of the coat’s neckline feathering against your cheek with each sway of wind slipping in through the small crack of the opened window.

A near frustrated groan came dangerously close to pushing past your lips as the Tsaritsa commanded a mission for the two of you once more, ordering you both to take care of matters somewhere around Fontaine once again. Of course, you two couldn’t deny a mission from the Cryo Archon. It was significantly less tedious compared to the one you had just returned from, so why not?

However, as you and Arlecchino wavered through the sea parting the way to Fontaine, you couldn’t shake off a gnawing sense of nausea clawing at your belly as the ship rocked along the currents. A few droplets of ocean water trickled onto the ship, the clear liquid stilled on the edge of the boat as it seemed to glare at you despite being a mere inanimate state of matter. Your mind couldn’t help but race with unnerving possibilities shrieking like a parasitic voice thickly buzzing around your skull. You had clearly never felt so agitated before, nor paranoid over seemingly nothing.

“(Name). Seriously, are you alright?”

Ah. Peruere’s firm, yet collected tone always washed a sweet comfort over you. Especially when she seemingly showed concern over your well being.

You simply nodded, palm running along your side in circular motions as a way to soothe the throbbing pain which thankfully subsided a few solid moments later. By the time you were already in Fontaine, the pain was almost always present. You began vomiting quite frequently, often removing yourself from diplomatic relations to go throw up somewhere else. If not that, then you sure as hell were drowsy 24/7, feeling like you were about to break and collapse onto the earth at any moment.

In this very moment as you huddled into Arlecchino’s neck, you drew in a sharp breath quickly as your hand rested atop hers, which was currently thumbing at the strap of your undershirt. Her sweet scent momentarily distracted you from the ache in your stomach growing to pester you every moment of the day? Sure, they stopped, but it felt as if something was landing blows on your gut from the inside, kicking vigorously at your swollen stomach. Thankfully, Arlecchino finally arose beside you, her body tilted forward as she sat upright groggily. The soft hue of the dimmed lights warmed the tone of your face, your drained expression on full view for her to see.

She simply quirked an eyebrow in concern. She was aware you could handle yourself, yet your fatigued form couldn’t help but fill her with a sense of worry upon seeing you stir in supposed pain. The past week had plagued her mind with constant anticipation and uncertainty about you, wondering if she should contact the doctor situated not too far from your accommodations in Fontaine’s main city.

“About 3 weeks, Miss (Name).” The doctor replied, pressing his forefinger down onto the middle of his glasses to lower them as his eyes glided along the scribbled paperwork in his hand. You blinked in surprise, hand resting on your own thigh as an awkward silence fogged the room for what felt like centuries. Carefully, you rose to your feet as to not exert yourself too much, before delivering a thankful wave to the doctor who examined you. Swallowing down the nervous rise piling in your chest, you creaked the door open to exit the office, mind racing with what Arlecchino’s reaction would be.

Would she be happy? Upset? What if she isn’t ready to have any children with you in particular? Would she feel tied down?

The pestering questions continued to eat away at you as you slowly paced to your quarters, growingly anxious about how she would react to such major information being dropped onto her. You simply shook your head as you reached the foot of your shared room, shaky hand resting upon the doorknob. It didn’t matter how she reacted. You were 3 weeks pregnant and that was for sure, it was just a matter of what the two of you would agree to do.

As you turned the doorknob with a soft click, creaking open the door, your body suddenly felt heavy and sluggish. Each trudge forward felt like you were opposing gravity when you set your foot down in a single step. Arlecchino was situated on the bed, sitting on the edge as she remained lost in thought while tracing her own cursed hands. She didn’t take long to notice you, and her head snapped up to meet your gaze once she caught sight of your form standing at the corner of the wall.

“Ah. Love. How did the visit go?” She inquired, her voice gentle and soothing. You felt frozen in your spot, staring at her like an unmoving stone statue as your fists opened and closed slowly. By this point, your hands piled up a small amount of sweat between them as you clasped your fingers close, breaths coming out slowly in your perception.

“Arle, I’m pregnant.”

The atmosphere of the room was stunned just as silent as it was when the doctor revealed the same information to you, your anticipation growing as Arlecchino stood up and started walking toward you. You began fidgeting with your own hands, thumbs slipping against each other as her tall stature slowly drew closer and closer to you. Within seconds, she was right in front of you, hands raising to rest onto your shoulders gently.

“What do you want to do with the child, my love?”

You found yourself almost immediately relaxing, tense muscles resting upon hearing her sweet tone brushing against your ears. It was as if the world around you slowly cleared your vision, alluring you into Arlecchino’s arms as she wrapped you into a soft hug. Her blackened hands pressed along your back in circular motions, massaging you comfortingly as her lips ghosted over the shell of your ear.

“I…was thinking of keeping it.”

Arlecchino simply smiled, a rare occurrence that crossed upon her expression…unless she was with you. Her arms hemmed around your waist carefully, drawing you in against her chest as she rested her chin onto the top of your head. She simply let out a quiet hum in response, closing her eyes to rest against you. You followed suit, closing your own eyes slowly as you relaxed in Arlecchino’s grip.

“Very well. We’ll finally be able to be at peace together.”

A/N: I am sorry BUR IM SO SKEEPY RN IM NOT GONNA BOTHER ANYMORE WITH THE END IM SORRY

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #wlw #genshin writing #alrecchino #arlecchino genshin x reader #genshin arlecchino x reader #arlecchino genshin impact #genshin impact arlecchino #genshin arlecchino #arlechinno x reader #arlecchino smut #arlecchino genshin #arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #arlechinno genshin #arlecchino fluff #genshin

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rafesaddiction · 1 year ago

Text

It's not cheating when he’s your enemy – Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

see here for part 2 and here for part 2.5

Summary: Rafe Cameron is the reason why you fought with your boyfriend. Rafe Cameron is the reason why you lost your job. Rafe Cameron is the reason why you moan and whimper shamelessly.

Concept: enemies, hate sex

Warnings: mdni! – smut, hate sex, rough sex, p in v, violence, choking, spitting (on rafe), cursing, name calling (rafe calls reader whore), cheating (reader cheats on boyfriend), mean!rafe

Word count: 3.9k

“How about a smile with that, hm?” Rafe Cameron grinned at you as you placed the glass in front of him on the table. Your eyes narrowed and you glared at him, but that smug grin of his only grew wider, and his kook friends sitting at the table with him snickered and watched the scene with amusement.

It was bad enough that you had to work today, not being in the best of moods after a fight with your boyfriend earlier – or more exactly, a fight with your boyfriend and his best friend. But you had to take the evening shift at the Wreck, because your landlord had assured you, he'd kick you out if you were late on the rent again. You needed the money and your cleaning job just didn't pay enough. And usually working at the Wreck was fine. Mike was a fair boss and Anna always had a nice word for you. The tips weren't as generous as at the country club, but the customers were usually much nicer. Well, usually. Not so much tonight.

You had seen – or actually heard them, the moment they had come into the restaurant; the kook prince and his cronies. Not waiting to be seated, they just chose a table and sat down, as if they had a right to do so, as if they were entitled to do anything they wanted. You frowned, when you saw them, having just written down the order from much nicer guests – a tourist couple, who must have been puzzled at your sudden change of attitude. You usually had no problem with keeping a friendly face to customers, or at least look at them in a neutral way, but the moment you saw Rafe Cameron walk in like he owned the place, you just couldn't hide your anger.

And of course, Rafe and his friends had chosen one of your tables. If it hadn't been so busy that night, you might have asked your colleague to swap tables. But as it was, you clenched your teeth and walked over to their table, placing the pitcher with fresh water and glasses on the table, ready to take their order – avoiding looking at them, especially at Rafe.

But his words made you look up from the water jug you held in your hand.

“C’mon, y/n, show us that pretty smile of yours, and I might even give you a nice tip”, the asshole had the audacity to wink at you.

You glared at him, pressing your lips into a thin line. You were fuming. Your hand clenching around the handle of the pitcher. And the blond kook just kept smiling at you his arrogant smile that others might have found charming, which only drove you mad.

So instead of pouring the water into the glasses on the table, you poured the pitcher's whole content onto Rafe Cameron's lap, drenching his expensive pants. – A pity actually that it was only water and not some boiling hot coffee.

Rafe quickly moved back, the chair making a screeching sound on the wooden floor, as he jumped to his feet. Now looking anything but amused, he looked down at himself.

“The fuck?”

And it was your turn to smirk, just a little triumphant smirk, while you glared at him and extended your arm, flipping him the bird, right at his stupid face.

You turned on your heels and walked back to the bar, hearing one of the kook boys say, “dude, she really hates you.” And Rafe replied, “nah, she wants me bad,” which resulted in all of them laughing.

And you growled. You hated those bastards. You hated them so damn much.

Behind the counter, you put down the empty pitcher with a loud thud – even though you felt more like throwing that thing at Rafe.

You tried to compose yourself, you really did, but, of course, Mike had seen what happened. And instead of being on your side and kicking those arrogant kooks out, he came at you, told you to go and apologize.

“I won’t! He’s a fucking asshole, acting like he owns half the island!” You glared at your boss.

“Well, his father does,” Mike said, “now go and apologize and tell him, whatever they order is on the house.”

You crossed your arms in front of your chest, looking at Mike as if he was talking in a different language.

“You apologize or you can leave. For good.” The features on the man's face had become stern.

You should do the reasonable thing, you needed this job. But your temper got the best of you. You were so angry, so damn furious, and Mike taking their side was just too much to take. You literally had enough.

“Screw you,” you snapped, crumpled the cloth you used for cleaning tables and threw it at Mike.

He frowned at you and pointed at the door.

And you walked out, walked out of that damn restaurant in which those fucking kooks were surely laughing at the scene they just witnessed. You were a joke to them. You pogues always were nothing more than a joke to them. It made you furious.

Outside you kicked a random car parked in front of the restaurant, wishing it was Rafe's – but it looked more like some old folks' family car than anything Rafe would drive.

“Fuck ‘em, fuck ‘em all,” you cursed, and your foot hurt, but you kept on walking, stomping actually, blinking angry tears away.

You just had lost your job because of Rafe-fucking-Cameron! The same guy that had been the reason for your fight with your boyfriend earlier that day.

You hated that guy. You had always hated Rafe, but now you hated him more than ever.

This morning, on his usual delivery run for Heyward, your boyfriend had been jumped by Rafe and one of his friends. And they had beaten him up so bad, he had gotten home with a limp, his left eye swollen, his nose bleeding. Seeing him like that hurt so much, you almost cried. His best friend, who was there with you, looked at your boyfriend shocked, and worried, before his quick temper took over. That boy was always short-tempered and would rather act than think. He was furious. While you were attending your boyfriend's wounds, his best friend was pacing the small place, raising his fists, clenching them, rambling on about how he would make Rafe pay for that. He also seemed mad at himself for not having been there for his best friend, not having been able to defend him. So he was more determined now to make it right, as he called it.

He swore revenge and was forming a plan. Usually, they would just try and fight Rafe and his friends at the next opportunity. But this seemed different. And your boyfriend seemed to be hurt more than just by the wounds you could see. You weren't sure, but you had a feeling that something else must have happened with Rafe, something more serious, something hurting not just his body, but his pride too. Because otherwise, your boyfriend would have never agreed to the stupid plan his best friend came up with. Stealing Rafe's dirt bike and sinking it to the bottom of the ocean. It wasn't even a real plan, it was just stupid.

“He'll know that it was you! And he'll have you arrested for it.”

“So what?”

“So what? You can go to jail! Don't be so dumb! You can both go to jail for this and you'll ruin your future just because of some stupid fight!” You yelled at your boyfriend's best friend, but there was no reasoning with him.

But what was worse, your own boyfriend didn't want to see that you were right. He was so infuriated. He had jumped to his feet and was ready to take Rafe and any cop. And he wanted to hurt him, hurt him so bad.

When you tried to talk to him, tried to calm him down, tried to make him see reason, he just shoved you away, and he suddenly seemed angry at you, accusing you of not understanding him. And his best friend accused you of not caring about your own boyfriend. And that fucking hurt. The two of them had always been close, very close, and you sometimes felt a pang of jealousy, because even though you were his girlfriend, it seemed as if there was some part of him you would never fully get.

So you had left the two of them planning their revenge, coming up with some stupid plan that would not make anything right that had been done to your boyfriend or to any of you pogues.

And the thought of that made you furious right now.

You balled your hands into fists, clenching so hard, you felt your nails digging into your palms.

You hadn't paid attention to where you were going when you had stormed out of the Wreck and you had been walking for some time now, anger driving you onwards, as you found yourself close to the Cameron's pier.

Rage was clouding your judgement, but you knew you had to do something, anything. It just couldn't go on like this. Rafe Cameron hurting everyone and destroying everything and just getting away with it.

You didn't have a plan what to do when you broke into the shack where they stored boat stuff and other things. It wasn't the first time you had broken into somewhere, but it was the first time you were on your own. Usually the other pogues would be with you. But you could do this on your own. And you did care about your boyfriend, no matter what his best friend said. You were a pogue just like them.

Inside it was dark and you had to feel your way round, careful not to bump into anything. You used your phone's flashlight to see, but you weren't really sure what you were looking for. Maybe you could find boat keys and take his boat? Stupid plan, but whatever. You had to do something, anything. Goddamn, you hated that guy.

“Anything I can help you with?”

You froze when you heard that dark voice. The lights had suddenly turned on, blinding you for a second. You blinked and saw him. Fuck. Rafe Cameron standing at the door, blocking the only exit. Tilting his head to the side, he looked right at you.

“What you doing here?” You couldn't help but ask, even though you knew it was a dumb question, but you were genuinely puzzled. He had just been at the Wreck with his friends – getting you fired – and now he was here of all places?

“This is MY property. What the hell are you doing here?”

Fuck, he was right. You wouldn't admit it, but he had a point. And suddenly you were questioning your own reason. It was such a stupid idea, breaking in here. All you wanted now was to get out, get away as fast as possible before Rafe would call the cops. So instead of answering, you darted for the exit as he moved a few steps into the room. But he was quicker, stepped to the side, so you almost crashed right into him.

He caught you, his big hand wrapping around your arm. You flinched at how tight his grip was.

“Fuck, let me go!” You tried to wriggle out of his grip, and hit his chest with your free hand.

Rafe grabbed your other arm too, pulling you closer to his much larger body.

“Let go, asshole!” You yelled at him, not giving up your fighting yet, though it seemed impossible to free yourself from his grip.

“Won't do. You broke into my property and stole something from me.” He glared down at you, his eyes narrowed – the blue in them reminded you of the sky on the day before the hurricane hit the island a few weeks ago.

“I didn't take anything!” Your voice strained and you were panting from your struggling.

He raised his eyebrows as he glared at you.

“A liar and a thief. I'll check for myself what you took.”

He let go off one of your arms, just to use his free hand to grip your waist, pulling you against his body, his broad chest pressing against your upper body, so close, you could hardly move your free arm between the bodies.

But his hand didn't rest, he was touching, grabbing, tugging, actually patting you down.

His large hand found your ass and that intimate touch caused a different kind of sensation. Something much hotter.

You wriggled in his arms, making your bodies only rub harder against each other.

“Fuck, let go!” You hissed, as breathing became harder.

You tried to kick him, but couldn't really lift your leg, you were too close to his overpowering body.

“Fucking asshole!” You spat at him.

And Rafe's hand gripped your jaws, so hard, you winced. Your mouth opening as you gasped.

Instead of tasting the air, you felt his lips crushing down on yours as he had suddenly closed the space and was kissing you, kissing you fiercely and hard.

Your eyes fluttered close. For a moment you were completely taken aback, overwhelmed by this unexpected intimate touch, a kiss so fierce and rough you had never tasted before.

It only lasted a second, and you pushed him away, pushed yourself away from him enough, so you could move your arm, and you smacked his cheek so hard, his head whipped to the side.

Obviously surprising him, he let go off you, rubbing his cheek, and looking at you as if in disbelief. His mouth opened, those lips you had just felt on yours.

And you stood there two steps away, chest heaving, panting, glaring, fuming, feeling that tingling on your lips, feeling that throbbing pain from his touch on your arms, feeling his presence so strongly, feeling this incredible heat in your own body, something hotter than rage coursing through your veins, feeling that sudden pull.

You lunged forward, and he just gazed at you, and your hands gripped around his neck as you pulled yourself up, legs wrapping around his waist, and your mouth meeting his in an angry kiss.

Rafe reacted in an instant, kissing you back, even fiercer than before. It felt like he was devouring you. And you couldn't help but moan into the kiss, as you rocked your hips against his. But the friction you caused with your fervent movements wasn't enough to make that throbbing between your legs stop. Both his hands grabbed your ass, gripped it like it was something that belonged to him, only to him. It made you furious, and clenching with need.

Your hands grabbed his hair, pulling at it. He growled in response, right into your open mouth. Pushing his tongue in, he claimed that too.

The heels of your feet dug into his back, as you pulled yourself closer to him. Feeling his hard cock pressing against you made you mutter the most embarrassing sounds, hardly muffled by his greedy kiss.

Suddenly he moved and you felt how your ass hit something.

The kiss broke and you hissed as you found yourself on a workbench, cluttered with all kinds of tools, which Rafe shoved away with his arm, making them clatter on the floor, before setting you down on the surface.

You braced yourself with your elbows on the bench, looking up at Rafe, who impatiently tugged down your shorts and panties. Your sandals dropped to the floor as well.

You tried to get up and grab his shirt to pull it off of him, but he pushed you back down on the bench, making you flinch at his roughness and at the same time you felt your legs opening for him, as you saw him take that shirt off himself. You couldn't help but gaze at his muscles. His body was so well-shaped, it was ridiculous how he could be real.

Your attention was directed further down, as you heard him unzip his pants.

You were only able to catch a glimpse of his cock, but it was enough to make you gasp – he was huge – before he pushed into you.

The sudden pain made you cry out. Your eyes going back into your head as you felt so incredibly full. You didn't even try to suppress your shameless moans as he ruthlessly thrust into you. Your walls clamping, the feeling became so intense, your body was shivering while you were burning up.

You heard Rafe's animalistic growl and that sound drove your own lust even further.

His hand at the back of your neck, he pulled you up, his lips hovering over yours, his hot breath mingling with yours.

Rafe pulled you closer, and as he fucked you, your ass was pressed against the edge of the bench, surely leaving bruises.

But you left bruises and marks on his body too. Your hands grabbing, your nails scratching his back. When he kissed you, you bit him, feeling how he tensed up and go harder on you. You felt your climax approaching, felt your body burning up with need, clenching so hard around him.

And he must have felt it too, because you could sense something shift. But instead of giving you what you wanted, giving you what your body so desperately needed, he grinned into the messy kiss and suddenly pulled out. You gazed at him, your face flushed, your lips sore from those biting kisses, and you were so surprised that it was easy for him to unwrap himself off your legs.

Your naked feet touched the cold floor and you could hardly stand. But you didn't have too.

Before you could question what the hell he was doing, he grabbed you, turned you around and bent you over the workbench.

You exhaled an angry breath and your hands clawed at the surface of the bench, while he turned your head sideways and pressed down on it, your cheek on the rough wood. You tried to look up at him, but couldn't move your head to see properly. But you didn't need to see what he was doing, you could feel it a few seconds later.

Your legs were spread and a rough hand rubbed between them. You were soaking wet. You had been wet from the moment his lips had claimed yours. You had no time to get annoyed at how that must have amused him, because the next moment, he was taking your breath away as his thick cock thrust into you. Harder and deeper now. You wouldn't have believed that to be possible, but he was fucking you now with even more of that rough and ruthless vigor. He was quite literally using you, as his cock was hammering into you. Your body trembled and shuddered and you moaned and whimpered and you were so far gone.

Rafe took you as if you were his, as if he could use you as he pleased – and you wanted nothing else than to be used by him in that moment.

Your walls clenching so hard around him, you felt fuller than possible.

But despite being at his mercy, despite having turned into his fucktoy, despite your traitorous body enjoying being used like that, you couldn't help yourself.

One hand reached back, touching his hip.

“Harder,” you urged him, panting. “Harder,” you repeated, breathlessly, as if you didn't already feel like you might pass out any minute, because it was too much, because your body couldn't possible take anymore.

He growled. And the sound made you shudder.

And you almost regretted your words, but at the same time, you felt your clit throbbing, your whole body buzzing with a need you had never felt before.

His arm wrapped around your neck from behind and he pulled you up, pulled you up standing on your toes, your back arching. The back of your head against his shoulder. His arm pressed against your throat, making it hard to breathe and impossible to speak. You could only whine as he slammed into from behind. Your fingernails digging into his arm's hard muscle, while your eyes fluttered shut.

You lost it all, all sense of reason and self control, as he fucked you through your earth-shattering orgasm. Fucked you relentlessly. Fucked you without restrained. Fucked you into oblivion.

You were undone and he kept going. Taking you without mercy, using you. And when he gasped and you felt him push so deep inside you, hitting a spot yet untouched, another wave rolled over you. You hadn't felt it building up, but it was like your body was synced with his, and the moment he came inside you, spilling his load deep into you, your walls clenched around him, as if trying to hold him there, and you came, harder this time, with him.

When he pulled out and let go off you, you just collapsed forward onto the workbench. Coughing, finally able to breathe, you tried to regain your senses.

Your legs were trembling and you could already feel his cum dripping out of you, running down your thigh.

You weren't sure if your eyes were closed or open, as you still just saw stars dancing in front of your eyes.

The sound of a low chuckle behind you made you finally able to return to reality – and realize your exposed position, bent over the workbench, your legs spread, your ass up, cum dripping out of your throbbing pussy.

You groaned as you pushed yourself up and turned. Every fucking muscle in your body hurt. You knew you would be sore for days. And when you caught that smirk on Rafe's face as he put on his shirt watching you with that glint in his eyes, you knew he was thinking the same.

You smoothed your rumpled top, crouched down to pick up your shorts. Somehow you couldn't find your panties between all those tools scattered on the floor, so you pulled on your shorts without panties. You flinched at the friction the rough fabric caused. You'd definitely be sore for days.

Frowning, you slipped into your sandals.

Your eyes moved over to Rafe. He was fully dressed and despite his somewhat heavy breathing and the sweat glistening on his forehead, he seemed all composed as he was leaning against another workbench opposite of you, just a few feet away. His hair a mess though, you noted with a certain kind of satisfaction.

A smirk danced around his lips as he watched you trying to comb your own hair with your fingers.

“What?” You frowned at him.

He shrugged, pushed himself off the bench and slowly came closer.

“Just realized, it's true what they say.”

Your frown deepened as you glared at him questioningly.

“The filthiest whores come from the Cut.”

You spat right at his face.

“Fucking asshole,” you hissed and turned to leave. From the corner of your eyes you could see how he wiped away your spit from his cheek, and looked at it, chuckling in amusement.

You didn't turn when you walked through the door. You tried not to show it, but each step hurt like hell. And what was worse, your core was aching with need.

a/n: thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. Comments, reblogs, likes, and any kind of feedback are very welcome. You may also have a guess who the reader's boyfriend might be. And his best friend...

This is the start of a concept series of oneshots.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe fanfiction #drew starkey #rafe cameron x reader #dark rafe cameron #obx #outer banks #rafe x you #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #toxic relationship #smut fic #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe x y/n

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wileys-russo · 4 months ago

Note

Hoy

"I challenge you to a duel "with pollito/barca femeni at the ikea/training ground

part of the pollito universe the duel II barça femeni

"ow! puta." you hissed, rubbing your shin where mapi had rammed it with the trolley, lunging at her before a hand grabbed the back of your hoodie halting you.

"behave kärlek, we are in a public setting." frido warned sternly as your eyes bugged in disbelief. "but she just-" you tried to defend yourself as the tall swede shut you down with a firm look, letting go of you as you mumbled you'd behave.

your eyes narrowed into a glare as mapi smiled smugly, walking side by side with ingrid who was clearly trying to plan out what was needed, pinching her girlfriend whose attention immediately returned to her.

"por favor can i-" you started to ask, spotting a cool looking lamp in one of the display sections. "no." frido answered right away, not even turning to look as she continued on ahead.

"frido!" you huffed, hurrying to catch up with her long legs. "alexia said you came here with them last week and you don't need anything else." the blonde chuckled with a smile, arm falling across your shoulders as you groaned.

"nobody lets me do what i want. i'm not a little kid!" you huffed making frido laugh. "of course not den lilla." the swede cooed sarcastically pinching your cheek rather sharply as you grunted and wrenched her hand away.

"well why am i even here if i 'don't need anything'?" you mocked, shrugging off frido's arm and shoving your hands into the pockets of your hoodie. "because they made me come, and i do not wish to be a third wheel all day, so i made you come to keep me company." the defender answered with a grin.

"frido! kom och titta." ingrid called, inspecting several different throw pillow options as the blonde pinched your cheek again and hurried off to catch up with the norweigan before you could hit her.

"so much for company." you grumbled to yourself.

mapi was across the aisle inspecting a large wooden bookshelf, clearly trying to measure its length using her forearm which was not working well as you made your way over, the opportunity presenting itself all too easily.

you kicked at the back of her knee, hitting it at the right angle to send her falling down to the ground as you snickered and she just caught herself, head whipping around to glare at you.

"get off maría!" you whined as she grabbed you in a headlock, messing up your hair as you fought to shove her away, swearing at the older girl under your breath whose arm only tightened its hold on you.

"hey!" you both paused, ingrid stood a few feet away with arms folded across her chest and eyebrows knitted into an unimpressed scowl. "pollito started it!" mapi protested, pushing you away and tutting as you swung at her and she ducked with a grin.

"i do not care who started it. act your age maría-" you snickered at that, whining as the girl rolled the trolley over your foot. "oh lo siento pequeña, un accidente." mapi cooed with a sarcastic pout as your eyes narrowed.

"vamos, i am not getting lost in here." mapi grabbed the trolley and nodded for you to follow, hurrying after the two scandi's who were already a good hundred metres ahead.

"whats on your list?" you asked a few minutes later, annoyance already forgotten as boredom had kicked in and you leaned your body into mapi hugging her who chuckled, tilting her phone toward you.

"dios mío your list is almost as boring as ale's." you rolled your eyes as she flicked your ear fondly. "we had to get photo frames, clothes pegs, a cutting board, a new blanket for the couch, a water jug!" you groaned at the memory, not even having been allowed to walk through the display section like you'd wanted to but dragged right to the shopping hall.

olga had at least taken pity on you and bought you all lunch at the cafeteria afterwards, and pretended not to notice when you tossed a few things that were not on her girfriends list into the cart, alexia a woman on a mission.

but that didn't stop the blonde from questioning the pair of you on every single choice despite already knowing in her mind which she preferred, sending you daggers every time you'd groan loudly and verbally express your boredom, catching the attention of fellow shoppers who looked on with disapproval.

"oye pollito, which one?" you slid your phone into your pocket and looked up at mapi's voice, eyebrows creasing as she held up two near identical coaster sets. "mapi...they're the same." you sighed with a shake of your head as she scoffed.

"no. look this one has stripes that go yellow, orange, red. this one has stripes that go red, orange, yellow!" the spaniard exclaimed as you rolled your eyes and grabbed one, turning it over and handing it back to her as she paused.

"oh. they are the same." she shrugged, tossing both of them into the cart as you wanted to pull your hair out but refrained, instead silently screaming behind her back as you dragged your feet and followed after her into the kitchen section.

"hey pay attention! this is important work." your phone was snatched out of your hand and slipped into frido's pocket as she passed, having stepped away to call her fiance before hurrying to catch up with ingrid and taking your phone with her despite your protests.

"nena." you looked over with a bored expression toward mapi who suddenly threw a wooden spoon at you, chuckling as you missed it by a mile and it clattered to the floor quite loudly.

"cata would have caught that." the defender tutted with a smirk as you flipped her off and picked it up. "no no, keep it. you will need it!" mapi warned as you went to put it down, giving her an odd look as she glanced around to make sure the two of you were mostly alone.

"why? i hate cooking and ale has like five of these." you frowned in confusion as mapi's cheeky grin only grew. "because, i challenge you to a duel." mapi held her own wooden spoon up as if it was a sword as your face lit up.

"oh you are on león." you grinned, matching her position as she counted down. "vaya!" she announced, launching at you as you laughed and smacked her wooden spoon away with her own, the two of you ducking and lunging at one another as your spoons clacked and smacked.

"bah! vale, match point." mapi huffed as your spoon poked at her chest again. "vaya!" she lunged again as you ducked and rolled suddenly, causing her to stumble forward not aware of her own momentum as she tripped and went flying into a crate of measuring cups.

the spoon fell from your hand as it hurried to cover your mouth, watching on with wide eyes as the walls of the crate shook and creaked before snapping, mapi sailing away on a wave of kitchen ware and an almighty noise thundered through the air as footsteps hurried and a crowd formed.

you held your hands up in defense and stepped back as a worker began to question what happened, acting as if you had no idea who mapi was or what happened as the defender gasped at your betrayal.

but you winced as hands fell to your shoulder and you knew who it was before she even spoke, ingrid appearing shortly afterwards as frido stood firmly behind you, hands gripping your shoulders in warning not to move.

"amor there is something you must know..."

mapi's mouth opened and closed trying to finish her sentence as fear set into her gaze at the withering glare coming from her girlfriends eyes as she held up a finger and pointed right at you.

"...this was all pollitos fault!"

#pollito #woso community #woso x reader #woso #barca femeni x reader #mapi leon x reader #fridolina rolfö x reader #ingrid engen x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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hoseoksluna · 1 month ago

Text

THE FUN DAY, pt. I. | kth ft. pjm

pairing: idol!military!boyfriend!taehyung x f. reader (ft. best friend!jimin)

genre: fluff, angst — the sad kind

word count: 4.8k

summary: you've prepared a fun day for your boyfriend's military vacation. thank god he's here, right?

pin: f. / playlist: fun / taglist: join / discord: join

warnings: suggestive but not described themes of sex and alcohol consumption.

note: i'm so EXCITED to bring you this fic that i can't wait until tomorrow to post this. everyone welcome TAEHYUNG and JIMIN to the hoseoksluna universe. i have to tell you a secret. taehyung was my first bias when i first became army. taehyungie was the first one to save me from the bunch—literally to resurrect me because in him i found all the things i used to love and fell out of. jazz, poetry, the aesthetics and arts. it is an honor to write about him and i think i will write another taehyung fic next week. if you have any ideas, drop them in my ask box and i will use them for inspiration. this fic is dedicated to my baby ruru @tkslovechild, my tatlim @jjk7k, and the beautiful anon that asked me for a tae fic while i was already working on this one. i love you all so much. enjoy this beautiful piece. <3 mwah.

𓂃 ౨ৎ .

I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone enough to truly consecrate the hour. I am much too small in this world, yet not small enough to be to you just object and thing, dark and smart. I want my free will and want it accompanying the path which leads to action; and want during times that beg questions, where something is up, to be among those in the know, or else be alone.

I want to mirror your image to its fullest perfection, never be blind or too old to uphold your weighty wavering reflection. I want to unfold. Nowhere I wish to stay crooked, bent; for there I would be dishonest, untrue. I want my conscience to be true before you; want to describe myself like a picture I observed for a long time, one close up, like a new word I learned and embraced, like the everday jug, like my mother's face, like a ship that carried me along through the deadliest storm.

𓂃 ౨ৎ . — I Am Much Too Alone in This World, Yet Not Alone by Rainer Maria Rilke

It was your love language, to dress up like your boyfriend.

Dress pants, shirts and jackets. Linen, silk, leather. Pointed heels or oxford shoes. Grays, browns, beiges and whites. It was something that made you happy—and it was something that represented a vessel, made of unbreakable porcelain, for your love that you carried for Taehyung.

He’s sitting in the corner of your bedroom, on a wooden stool he specifically placed at such a picturesque place. With the ivory curtains drifting along the nape of his neck, sheer enough to expose the small vase of tulips that stoop in a private longing for his touch. He fondles them often to preoccupy his mind when you take your usual long showers and he waits for the fashion shows you give him. He’s the one who says yes or no. These shoes, love. Look, they’re just like mine. And right at this moment, the wine-yellow petals are caught between his slender fingers when you come out and he doesn’t let go of them—because you’re not holding up the outfit for the day as you always are.

For the fun day as you’ve called it.

You’re dressed in it. Low-waisted gray dress pants with a little, tight, white shirt. Black stilettos, black shoulder purse. Your trench coat is waiting for you in the hall, hung up and lonely, but other than that you’re matching him fully. It feels as though you’re fading into him, becoming a singular being that has his DNA and his beauty, and when he beams up at you, boxy smile on full show, spine straight and tall on the stool, long fingers gripping its rim, Taehyung, with his gray suit and a white shirt, somehow validates that feeling.

Somehow, in that peculiar Taehyung way of his.

He extends his hands towards you, asking for your closeness. There’s a mist of murkiness that envelops him, with the saddened clouds beyond the window, standing in the place of the sun. It moves through you, this image of him reaching for you in this landscape, and you think he deserves to be painted like this. With black charcoal and a little bit of soft carmine to eternalize the blush of his cheeks—the only trace of color in the sketchbook. Your hands don’t know the art of drawing, but your heart does and while you take those necessary steps towards him, you feel the scratches of that dark pencil over that grainy flesh.

His palms find your curves and you consider it unbelievable, the fact he’s still so big, despite the size of the stool and the height of your heels. No matter how much taller you grow, he’ll always be that tower that protects you from the blazing heat of the sun.

He’s the epitome of autumn. No longer a boy, but a man, whose lungs are perfumed by apples, leaves, cinnamon, pumpkin spice and the slight iciness of the seasonal wind. Whose eyes witnessed the growth of your form since you were a little girl with two long braids.

Childhood best friends turned to lovers, favored by the hanging, twinkling stars.

You always saw him the most in autumn. Chasing you down during festivities that your mom couldn’t not be a part of, grabbing a hold of one of your braided pigtails with his already long fingers, then tickling you until you gave up. Ever so easy to catch because of the length of your hair. You knew, even as a little girl, that he was not just a part of your life, but your life itself. More than a companion, more than a friend. You dreamed about having his babies and that dream would come to life through your imagination whenever he would chase you down, years later, in the grand halls of the east wing of his grandiose family home, where nobody ever comes, just to steal a kiss or two. It was the moment you realized that you were no longer kids, even though you acted as such, but that you desired little legs to follow you in the fun of it all.

And that kiss changed every autumn from that year on.

Stolen glances, the blush of cheeks, quivering fingers that no longer grabbed your braids. Not until many autumns later. You gave him your everything, every bit of your newly-bloomed femininity, your dream of having his babies and he folded it into the vinyls of his favorite jazz music that he would play every night whenever he needed inspiration or whenever he simply needed you.

Newly. Not just yet as adults and no longer as kids. Somewhere in between.

And then the duties of adulthood came. The natural process of drifting apart settled between your bodies and you no longer played in the stage between. Taehyung, the saxophone-playing jazz singer, moving foreign bodies into his personal, heart-sung rhythm. Not yours, never yours for a long time. You, working a day job that never paid enough, not for the dresses you yearned to wear at those clubs he would play at.

But what you didn’t know was that drifting apart meant coming together eventually.

He might have become your Turnip Head, silent and distant, but you were Sophie—and you found him. You found him while looking for something, or someone for the lack of better words, and he helped you. Over a cup of coffee he didn’t drink, at a jazz bar you always wanted to come to. Your date was a hit and miss and the guy never came, and your Turnip Head didn’t help you find your Howl.

He helped you find himself. And from that moment on, you never drifted apart again.

Who would’ve thought that seeking a relationship that did not resemble your dream nor your childhood would make you find him all over again.

In autumn, too.

Taehyung paid for your dresses, your female suits, paid for your drinks. Kissed you underneath those dimmed, brown lights before he went off to play songs that moved your body at last. Dancing alone to his songs was your dream come true until he set down his saxophone and joined you. Let his band mates play his favorite Etta James song as he took your hand and drifted upon the dance floor with you. Those who danced before this song sat down, let you have this opportunity for yourself, and Taehyung kissed you, after a long time, after many autumns had passed, right then and there.

And both of you realized that you could never drift apart again. You could only drift together.

You moved in together. He bought you tulips of every possible hue every week. Played you his new songs for you on the saxophone. Took you to art galleries. Took you sightseeing, sometimes alone with you, sometimes with Jimin joining you. Shared your dream about having babies with you and talked about it all the time. Tried it out, seized it many times, though the outcome both of you desired never came. Had a beautiful life with you until…

Until he thinned out into his Turnip Head form and skipped away to fulfill his country duties.

But he’s here. Oh, he’s here. Buff and big, apples, cinnamon and pumpkin spice. Brown eyes that carry the memory of your growth, hands that clutch your hips and that hold the silky memory of your still long braids. Hands that edge around your slightly, barely puffy tummy and that don’t know that you are with a concoction of a small him and you, a divine magical realism, a dream that came true without his knowledge right after the last hours of his military vacation were up and he had to go back to serve the country.

The reason behind this fun day.

The day of his second vacation, the day you tell him.

“You look just like me,” he breathes, the width of his smile never lessening, hands skipping over the space between your hips and your arms and grabbing your hands. It gets to you still, the way his eyes never look up at you, the way they never have, and you feel so sweetly small. Even more so when Taehyung stands to his feet and slides his suit jacket over your shoulders. You become even smaller, a fawn taken care of. A pregnant fawn. “And now you are me.”

Oh, he doesn’t know just how much. Not yet.

He sits back down and gently pushes you to take a step back. On wavering feet, like that freshly-born fawn, you waver on your feet, but Taehyung keeps you stable, leaning forward to make sure you’ve caught your balance. A wisp of his dark hair falls over his eye that he, at last, flicks up at you. And the sensation from it, it is nothing that you ever felt before.

It is a step forward.

It’s something that tells you: go ahead.

You planned to tell him at the jazz bar where he kissed you for the first time as an adult and made you his. But now, now it feels more than right, amidst this strange newness that you don’t think you’ll ever experience again.

You open your mouth, brace yourself, but Taehyung is faster. Ringing fills your ears, the atmosphere around you feels gooey—as if you’re walking through a limbo.

“Jimin will meet us at the park.”

Oh, yes. Walk in the park, a warm drink to go, then the jazz bar. Jimin is having his military break as well, about to sing in Taehyung’s honor, you already knew this, knew he would join you, but being in the presence of your boyfriend, the detail slipped out.

The newness leaves. Taehyung straightens. Towers over you. The normalcy flattens over the chemistry between you and him, the atmosphere lessening to feathery lightness and when you move your arms to give back his jacket, your arms feel as though they’re not your own.

Your smile falls.

Jazz bar it is.

“We should go,” you prompt, turning around, having all the balance in the world as you go fetch your purse and reapply your red lipstick.

Taehyung watches you in the mirror, his boxy grin on eternal display, warming your heart. You think about how you can’t wait until his baby witnesses that smile for the first time—and wonder if God is molding, at this very hour, the same one upon their little face. It brings tears to your eyes, ones that you quickly blink away, and instead you focus on lining your lips with the tip of the lipstick with utmost precision.

In your vast collection of lip liners, you don’t have a red one. Truth be told, you always feared this vibrant color. It represented a stigma you never liked—that only promiscuous women wear that color, but to you it was never that.

It was a color that meant you lose your girlhood, your childhood upon wearing.

And now, it is a color that announces the next era of your life: adulthood, but different, painted with motherly instincts that are of these vibrant hues. Womanhood. No longer fearful, but brave.

Right.

You want your baby to connect this color to you and know that you made it. You waited your whole life for their father and gave it to him in one of the autumns as a child. Without knowing, without realizing.

That color is a legacy.

As if he could hear your thoughts, Taehyung kisses the back of your head, halting your motions. Wraps his arms around you as he props his chin on the place he kissed—and right here, right now, you’re looking at a family portrait in the mirror.

A living, breathing one. With lifting chests in tandem, growing smiles and a growing baby in your womb.

Magical realism in full effect.

And then Taehyung is off to fetch your trench coat, holding it up for your arms to slip inside its sleeves. Grabs your hand and revels in the autumn weather outside, boxy smile never faltering. Sings in the car on the way to the park, makes eye contact as he mouths the lyrics—kiss me once and kiss me twice, then kiss me once again, it’s been a long, long time—because he could never sing over that part. It’s too precious to his heart for him to do so.

The wind accompanies you and grabs your other hand as you walk down the pathway lined with half-barren trees and a still pond. Taehyung hums the Bing Crosby song that seems to be playing on loop within his mind and it is the only greenery that spreads around through his husky voice. All else—the pond, the trees and the last of their leaves that dance around you, the shrubberies and the clouds up above—are smeared with sullen blues and grays, to which Taehyung is everlastingly immune.

Jimin is standing by an antique coffee stand, dressed to the nines in an outfit he most definitely must be cold in. Black dress pants with a jacket that stuns you. A matching Hussar one, with golden braiding. A military piece of clothing from another time. You think it suits the fun day quite delightfully, but not as much as it suits him. The golden detail goes hand in hand with his golden hair and you think he needs his picture taken.

“Jimin!” you call out, making his confused little face turn in your direction, and he swivels his body to face you altogether. He holds two cups of coffee in both of his hands, one for him and one for you. You melt at that and look up at Taehyung to see his boxy smile ever so frozen and beautiful, pointed at his best friend.

When you reach him, he hugs you. His cold skin stings you and you quickly warm him up with rubbing motions against his back. Scrunch your brows in puzzlement when he doesn’t hug Taehyung nor even look at him.

But all is swept away when Jimin exclaims in discomfort and takes a rapid sip of his boiling drink.

“Jimin, where’s your coat?” you ask him in pity, watching him shake and moan in pain once he burns his tongue. He uses the cup to warm up both of his hands.

“I didn’t think Paris would be so cold in October,” he explains in a hushed, livid tone, drawing the rim of the paper cup back to his lips as if he didn’t learn his lesson. Typical Jimin. “But this outfit is for Taehyung anyways, so I’ll survive.”

He talks of him but he doesn’t look at him. Makes heart eyes at the misting coffee, instead. Like Taehyung isn’t here at all.

Strange.

You shake off the thought.

“Go stand by the pond before you freeze. I want to take a picture of you,” you say, softly, pulling your phone out of your purse. Glancing up, you expect Jimin to be ready with his pose, but he’s looking at you as if you said the most outrageous thing in the world. Eyes wide, mouth downturned in horror. You laugh and place a hand on his arm. “Go, Jimin. This is a special day and special days ask for special pictures.”

Jimin sighs and nods, despite the fact he doesn’t really look like he wants to do it.

“Fine, but I’m keeping the coffee in my hand.”

Your tender laughter prolongs. “Fair enough. Go pose with your little heat pack.”

Gazing out at the pond, Taehyung is already standing there. With his brown coat over his gray suit, he coalesces with the autumnal scenery and you think he belongs there. That a statue should be made of him right where his feet are planted, for people to remember and appreciate his beauty. You snap a few pictures of him before Jimin makes his way towards the stone bannister and stops right in front of Taehyung, who towers over him. Jimin lifts his cup and smiles a little tight smile, the mist from his coffee eclipsing over him like a soft fog. Switching to portrait mode, Taehyung is gone by the time your screen clears out and shows Jimin by his lonesome self, setting his coffee cup down on the bannister and turning around for some dramatic, aesthetic shots. Taehyung laughs in your ear, catches your slipping purse and places it back on your shoulder, and what he says next gives your life a whole new meaning.

“Jimin is cute, but he’s strong and sane enough to protect you while I’m gone.”

You pivot back, piercing your sight right through him, not believing those words were just flung out of him like that. Taehyung never mentioned you having a protector while being in the military and even the whole concept of it confuses you even deeper as Jimin is serving as well. He might not be in the special forces like your boyfriend is, but he’s serving nonetheless. The systems are the same, no matter the department.

Before you can ask him what he meant by that, the sing-song tone of Jimin’s voice reaches you. He calls out your name with a bit of alarm.

“What’s wrong?”

You gaze back and meet his eyes in full motion—he’s already taking long steps towards you and grabbing your arm, taking your confusion to another level.

“What happened?” he asks, his pupils thin dots that ripple through your skin with stiff, panicky electroshocks. You glance back at Taehyung to discover that he’s not standing behind you at all, but behind Jimin, clutching his shoulder.

You blink. “Nothing.”

Jimin lets go of your arm and inhales the autumnal air. The pond, suddenly, heaves.

“Let’s go somewhere warm,” Jimin suggests and you agree with him with a nod of your head. Pinpricks of iciness kisses your fingertips, despite the fact you’re still holding your own cup of coffee that Jimin bought you.

A strange feeling seizes you.

The jazz bar is an embrace of snug heat that embraces your womb first before greeting the rest of your body. You can’t help but to touch your baby, say to her in your heart: this is your Daddy’s most favorite place in the whole wide world. And the feeling is so surreal that it washes away the strange sensation that clung to you so heavily.

You’re the first customers to come. Jimin sighs in absolute relief and he’s standing in the middle of the dance floor, frozen in time, as he lets the warmth of the place defrost his bones. Your cup of coffee was long finished and discharged; Jimin’s drank his in long sips that took seconds to finish, too, and the whole ordeal was so funny to you that it’s given you a sense of lightness that you needed.

Taehyung hasn’t spoken a word since you left your apartment.

He sits at the bar stool like he sat in your shared bedroom. One leg propped on the footrest while the other is relaxed on the floor, one hand folded on the apex of his thigh, the other drumming on the bar while the band he doesn’t know is rehearsing their instruments. You take a seat right beside him and feel like the parents you’re about to become. Sophisticated, classical, sublime.

The pretentious kind, but in a good way.

That thought makes you smile softly until the bartender asks you if you’d like anything. You politely decline her, even though you’d love a glass of wine with the daddy to be beside you. You can’t drink, not for many months to come. You wait for her to ask Taehyung the same question, but she doesn’t even lift her eyes to his direction. She wipes down the wood of the bar and leaps away.

Nobody fucking asks Taehyung anything.

Amidst a hearty guitar strumming solo, Jimin notices the furrow of your brows, the downturned pout of your mouth that opens to ask Taehyung about the strangeness that keeps occurring today. But before you get the words out, Jimin calls out your name into the microphone, the vowels made sweet by the sound of his princely voice. He stands with the band behind his back, his Hussar jacket exquisitely fitting the dimmed background. He holds out his hand for you, a poignant glint perched on top of his irises, and he flattens his puffy, pink lips.

“Don’t be sad. Tonight is for Taehyung and all sadness is prohibited,” he says with his feigned announcer articulations, the corners of his mouth rounding in a similar manner to yours, in sympathy. “We will have to kindly ask you to leave if you proceed in your sadness. Please, join me here.”

You roll your eyes, but the smile gracing your features couldn’t be erased even with the force of the whole wide world. You stand to your feet and paddle your way to him, the heels of your stilettos clicking on the worn parquets. Jimin gives you a soft grin and places his microphone down, meeting you halfway on the dance floor and taking your hand.

It is when he begins to sing, just for you, that you perceive that the instrumental song the guitarist played is one, which is contained in one of Taehyung’s vinyls. The ones he would play in the darkest of nights and sing the lyrics to your bare body. Tears prick your waterline when Jimin guides you into a gentle slow dance while maintaining the tones of the song with utmost perfection.

And Taehyung is carried in every languid motion and in every vocal cord that is strained upon this hour in his honor.

I’m in the mood for love, simply because you’re near me…

You gaze back at Taehyung, who sits still and smiles his boxy smile. Frozen and beautiful, but unbreathing.

Still and unbreathing.

Frozen.

You halt your movements.

Jimin stops the dance, ends the song with a deep hum that pulses through you along with the notion that something isn’t right, but very, very wrong.

“I wish Taehyung were here,” Jimin says with a deep sigh, holding both of your hands, and an uncanny, perplexing feeling constricts your throat.

Your breath shivers, vision blurry. “But he is here.”

Jimin lets go of your hands and you lament his touch. You need to be touched because you feel yourself shrinking into a fawn most vulnerable that doesn’t know what’s real anymore. A fawn just born, pathetically ignorant of the world and of her loved ones.

“I know, but I wish he were here for real.”

A cold sweat drips down your spine, paralyzing you. Your constricted throat dries up like a well and you can’t swallow. You can’t think, you can’t blink—your lungs can’t lift to inhale any air and they mirror Taehyung’s still ones, unbreathing.

It is a surprise to you, the question that flows out of you.

“Jimin, who is sitting at the bar?”

A wrinkle forms between his brows as he sweeps his gaze over all those bar stools and doesn’t linger at the occupied space that you know is there. A perturbing energy thuds in his eyes once he returns them to yours, and that alarming potency in him rises once again.

“Who do you see there?” he asks, carefully, leaving his mouth parted as he anticipates your answer.

You peer back behind you and don’t find any bar stools occupied. Not single one.

No Taehyung, smiling his boxy smile.

No Taehyung behind Jimin.

No Taehyung behind you.

A sob rumbles out of you in unison with your realization that you were, indeed, very wrong. You catch your sob, covering your mouth with your fingers as your tears spurt down onto your cheeks.

And then the memories arrive, the reality.

But Jimin ceases their flow with the warmth of his even more careful question.

“Did you see him at the park, too?”

You can only nod, but you can’t look at him. You stare at nothing in particular and it seems that what Jimin has ceased, he allows to stream through the pond of your thoughts, accompanied by his vocalized truth.

“Taehyung isn’t here. He should’ve been here with us, but he had to go to North Korea. There was a conflict, remember? You know this.”

Taehyung’s apologetic text message appears before your eyes. The letter that came first before his phone call, where he explained to you that he can’t have his vacation and visit you because he has to go and save his country. The real, known reason between the pair of you and Jimin behind this fun day. To honor Taehyung for what he’s doing. The day you wanted to share, as well, that you were pregnant.

The aloneness has gotten to you, helped by your blessed state. Confused your mind to the point that you imagined him here when he’s not here at all.

Jimin calls your name and you glance at him. Perhaps he can see the truth dawning on you by the way pity twists his features. He caresses your arm and leaves his hand there, his heat locking in the realization.

“What has happened to you?”

Another onrush of tears clouds your vision. Your spine bends. And you can’t.

You can’t not tell him. You can’t keep it in.

“I’m pregnant.”

Jimin’s eyes widen and it merely takes him a second to envelop you in his embrace. He coos your name, rubs your back, a whimper resonates in his chest against yours as he holds back his tears. The music falls into nothingness—and nothing is said for a time that appears to be as long as the season of autumn.

And then, somehow, you’re outside of the jazz club, sitting on Jimin’s Hussar jacket that he put down on the cold ground for you beside him. And the silence continues until it doesn’t.

“Does he know?” he asks, and you feel his irises gliding across the side of your face that you cannot turn.

It’s you who’s frozen this time.

Still and unbreathing.

With no smiling Taehyung at your hip.

“I wanted to tell him tonight,” you say, quietly, with your hands helplessly in your lap. “On the day of his vacation that he looked forward to.”

Jimin sighs, the sound full of that terrible pity. “How far along are you?”

It’s a question that brings life to your numb hands and you take them to your belly.

“Three months.”

A beat of silence.

You fondle your growing baby. Jimin seems to be watching you, considering his following words, but you fear to move your eyes. Lift them in expectation to see Taehyung only to meet the half-barren trees and the leaves on the ground that have absurdly regained their vivid colors.

Lift them to look at Jimin and meet the outcome of your autumn-long aloneness.

“He’ll be back in a month and I’ll talk to the Sergeant and offer my own vacation. I’ll give it up so you can see him and tell him.”

A sob lodges itself in your throat and you tilt to the side, leaning your head on Jimin’s shoulder. He, in response, leans his against yours.

“I don’t think your Sergeant will even hear you out,” you say, humorlessly, your personal pain still prickling the flesh of your heart.

But then Taehyung’s words wash over you.

Jimin is cute, but he’s strong and sane enough to protect you while I’m gone.

Jimin, Taehyung’s best friend, who’s been there for him through thick and thin, long before you came into the picture. Jimin, who stuck by your side when sightseeing, and took your pictures. Who devoured dinners with you and drank a whole bottle of liquor with you when Taehyung abstained.

Jimin, your best friend, too.

“Will you be here for me while he’s gone?” you ask, the sob in your throat enlarging, preventing you from speaking, but you push through. “So I won't get delusional again?”

Jimin takes your hand in his, squeezing it firmly in your lap, his thumb brushing over your little, half-swollen belly.

“It’s the least I can do. Let’s get you home.”

And he does.

He calls a cab. Walks with you up the stairs, lingers at the door, watches you take off your heels—watches the comprehension of this day being anything but fun take form on your face and posture, and he hugs you. Reassures you that he will be here the whole week until his vacation is over, and even long after that.

And you nod. Thank him. Turn your head away when he clicks the door shut behind him. Walk over to the window and stifle your tears when you see him head over to the liquor store in front of your apartment and leave with a bottle of spirits hanging from his fingertips.

And the tears rush out, despite your efforts, when your gaze cascades down onto the windowsill and onto the vase, where white wine-doused tulips stooped in yearning for Taehyung’s touch a few hours ago.

They aren’t stooping. They’re flaccid, dead and withered. Like the fun day you prepared.

Because Taehyung hasn’t bought any newly blooming tulips in a long while.

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @jjk7k , @tkslovechild , @euphoricmyth , @cinmmongirl , @ririkookiemonster , @perfectiondazesworld , @https-mei , @bangtansonyeondanue , @jungkoock , @cinmmongirl , @hoseokkie-caeks , @kam9404 , @fr0ggieth1nk , @parkinglot-nights

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eccentricallygothic · 9 months ago

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|| The Farmer's Way ||

Description: With the gang gone for good, Arthur had retired and you were his reward. Or so he believed.

Pairing: Dark!Arthur Morgan | Gender-Neutral Spouse!You.

Disclaimer: I (sadly) do not own Arthur Morgan or the RDR universe. This story contains dark and mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact.

Warning(s): Noncon/Dubcon, gross stuff because that's all I think about while playing the game, age gap, groping, dirty talk, degradation, doggy style, penetration, spanking, biting/marking, sexism, wife kink but it doesn't matter what you identify as because he's gross like that so tw for sure.

Note: Fair warning, he's a bit of a sicko and I am a mental slut. Also this is kinda my first time with gender neutral smut so I am very sorry if I got something wrong. I am willing to rectify if I did make any such mistake.

The hot June air blew past you and pricked at your rather pampered skin. You felt a droplet of sweat trickle down your temple as you winced and shielded your face from the sun, the rays now attacking the skin of your arm instead. A grunt escaped you when you willed your feet, which were clad in some glittery pumps, to push on towards the huge barn of your family farm. A string of disgusted curses foxed their way out of your mouth when the smell of dung and hay wafted into your nostrils from the giant red wooden box that was literally radiating stinky heat.

Your feet halted right outside the heavy double doors and you had to take a long breath to brace yourself before you entered. Your features scrunched in disdain as you tried to hold your breath, clutching the cool jug and glass that you were holding tighter as you slipped inside before the weight of the door caused it to close by itself. Clenching your jaw to focus on the task at hand, you slowly walked forwards and concentrated on your breathing to ensure you didn't inhale any of the barn filth.

It was a fairly easy piece of work.

Give the lemonade to your husband and leave.

Simple, right?

No.

Not when said husband is Arthur Morgan.

As his fingers wrapped around your wrists to keep you from leaving after you had placed the jug and glass down, your breath hitched as you felt a bile rise in your throat from pure disgust. The dust and sweat on his fingers was gut wrenching.

"Fixin' to leave already?" His other hand came up to tangle in one of the two silky ribbons you wore on both sides of your head in half ponytails after he had pulled you against his hard chest, the coarse hairs on his chest scratching the skin of your back. "I was missin' you so much, baby" you uneasily shifted in his hold, goosebumps rising on your skin when you felt his fingers trail up from your wrist to your forearm. "It's almost like you showed up 'cause you read my mind" you could barely suppress your gasp as your body jumped in reaction to his stubbly lips suddenly finding your ear.

"I…" Your voice was a mere squeak and you had to concentrate to make yourself sound a bit less pathetic. "I left the food on the stove" your eyes fluttered shut before clenching as you suppressed the urge to retch at both the feeling and smell, arm folding to let your elbow press into the side of his torso. The man only hummed as his browned and dirty hands felt you up, basically frisking your barely clad body as his lips pressed rushed kisses against your neck. "A- Arthur!" You flinched when he bit down on a hickey on the junction of your neck, fingers finding your nipples through the sheer fabric of one of the many silk dresses he made you wear.

The older man did not budge, only grunting when you probed his chest harder, hips trying to wriggle free. "The grub can wait, hush now" your limbs screamed at you to fight. Try and push him away. Hit him with something. Make a run for it. Never look back. "Mmm, baby" your eyes teared up when his other hand slipped from the ribbon to trail down your abdomen and to your nether regions. "If it was up to me, I'd keep ya bare as a jaybird 'round the clock" your jaw clenched at his words but you knew better than to hurl the heavy jug that was in front of you against his head.

Because you had done stuff like that countless times in the beginning of your forced marriage seven months ago.

Except, you had no idea how but your husband had somehow trained and kept a number of wolves to guard the property only God knew how.

No one could come in and you could never leave.

The punishments that you had been subjected to upon trying to do so were more than enough to keep you on your best behavior.

"Oh, darlin', you taste mighty fine" you were flipped and easily backed into one of the many stables. "Now, let me try out that pretty little mouth" your eyebrows scrunched as you craned your neck backwards to get away from him. The reverberations of Arthur's chuckle buzzed through your chest as he pressed into you and left you trapped and helpless. "Ain't ya just a foolish little thing? Thinkin' you can get away from your old man?" His rough palms cupped your face as he dipped his head in, chasing your lips with his own and snickering when you tried to move.

When you had seen this mysterious cowboy turn up to buy your family farm off of your useless brother seven months ago, you had not thought much of it. Sure, you were angry that his gambling had ended him up in so much debt that he had no choice but to sell off your family legacy, but you had bright plans with your scholarship program at a prestigious college, and you had been so ready to leave this life that you had never liked much in the first place behind for one of revolution and modernity.

Only, when all of your documentation as well as your brother and his family disappeared the night before your final departure, the then stranger and now your husband revealed that you had been part of the deal.

As Arthur fucked into you on your wedding night -as he had promised your brother that he would not take you before that-, the man had confessed how lovely you had looked resting on a tree branch as you chewed on your lip, completely engrossed in your book.

You knew alcohol and the colorful powders that your brother loved to use had done his mind in, but handing you off like merchandise to a man with no regard for your orientation or taste was something you had never expected from him. Not after he had been your legal guardian for so long.

But then again, he never understood your ways and thought revolution was a blasphemy.

In your brother's world, you either did the hard work on the field or became a field worker's home runner.

And your open disdain for the farm work had earned you the latter.

The irony was laughable, because he probably thought he was protecting you by choosing a secure future for his baby sibling. The right thing.

Your spark had always scared him, and so he suppressed it once and for all under the mundaneness of the farm by locking you up in his own kind of a gilded cage and handing the keys to the man who was all over you at the moment.

'Excitement is a double edged sword. It is thrilling and promising but it can also be dangerous.' That you couldn't deny.

The thrumming in your nether regions was proof.

Frightening, shameful, repulsive proof.

"Arthur…" You whimpered as your vision zeroed in on his rough lips that brushed against yours soon before pressing into them.

The man moaned, rubbing his crotch against yours as he deepened the kiss by tilting his head to the side and forcing his tongue in your mouth, the taste of cigarettes and coffee making you cringe and try to move away but a tight squeeze to your ass with his coarse hand made you gasp and hence open your mouth. Then his tongue was down your throat.

Everything was rough and dirty about him.

You hated it.

Sometimes he purposely rubbed his filth against your clean clothes and body to add insult to injury. He would laugh as you would hold your breath and try to get away only to be trapped between his strong body and some surface. Arthur would then watch you squirm and struggle until you ran out of breath and had no choice but to inhale his scent.

"Dang it, I can't hold back no more" Arthur was panting when he finally broke off to let you both breathe, one of his hands bolting down to his belt while the other one held you steady. "I need ya right now…" The kiss had flushed your lips and you could feel the change in size as you ran your tongue over them to accumulate some moisture. "You gonna be good and take it for me, darlin', won't ya?" And while your brain screamed at you to know better, you squeezed your legs and whined, taking deep breaths as one of your fists bunched some of his sweaty shirt in it.

"Arthur…" A small smirk made its way on his face while he hurriedly relieved himself of all decency. He recognized that tone.

"Now ya know better than to call me that, baby" heat spread across your cheeks as you whimpered, biting your lip before you lowered your head and reached for his hand that was pinching one of your nipples through your sheer dress. "Go on now, you know my preference" your eyes fluttered shut as you took a shaky breath, massaging the hand that was toying with your chest and arching your back.

"... H- Hubby…" Arthur cursed under his breath like he always did whenever he got you to call him that. Then he reached out for your other hand and brought it to his erect cock, the feeling of its thick veins against your soft fingertips causing your hole to clench around air.

"Aw, shit, darlin'" he guided your hand up and down his twitching cock. "Can ya feel it?" His body pressed against yours. "This here is what ya do to me" the tip of his organ released some hot precum and you couldn't help but shudder at the memories it triggered.

Memories of how it felt inside you.

Before you knew it, as always, reason was out the window before you could grab onto it and your mind had decided shame could come later. Who knew when or if you would ever make it out of here and Arthur was way too good at making you feel strange things that kept you giving into him for more.

"Please, hubby" you whispered, unable to hold back anymore as you worked your wrist to please him. "Please…"

"Please, what, baby?" He pecked your lips over and over before moving down to the corner of your mouth and then further along your jaw. "Use your words for me" his lips locked around a patch of your delicate skin as he sucked, causing you to bend your back outwards. "Get, now."

"P- Please take me…" You shuddered as the sound of his lips forming yet another bruise along the expanse of your neck grew louder and louder in the air. "Please… please…" You couldn't get yourself to utter any more obscenity than that.

"You mean you want me to fuck you?" Your heart dropped at the bluntness of his words, the feeling of his stubbly lips curling against your skin almost making you want to retreat, but only almost.

Besides, you couldn't leave on your accord even if you wanted to.

Though you really didn't want to leave this barn anymore.

Not before the ache between your legs was relieved.

When you didn't respond verbally, Arthur clicked his tongue as he came back up to face you and reached for his hat before placing it on your head. He loved to take you like that. "Come on, darlin'. You know I ain't gon' do nothin' 'til you say it for me" but then one of his hands creeped between your legs to caress your intimate part and your legs trembled in reaction; body submitting at once.

Taking in a deep and shaky breath, you braced yourself before mumbling out your words, hoping and praying they were enough for him because you knew as well as you knew it was day that you didn't have any more indecency in you to talk the kind of filth he could with a straight face.

"P- Please fuck me, hubby…" One of his eyebrows raised as he leaned in closer.

"I'm sorry, what was that there?" You almost choked his cock between your fingers but you knew better than hostility.

"I- I said…"

"You said?"

Your jaw clenched in annoyance because you were so needy all thanks to his dirty hands and now he was not helping.

"I said p- please fuck me, hubby" you said as clearly as you possibly could, tone almost blunt.

He finally seemed intent. "Your wish is my command, darlin'" the man had you flipped and bent over the stable before you could even register it.

Your gaze settled on the little pony in front of you as you felt his stiff tip prod your entrance, the foreplay having lubed his cock more than enough. Since you weren't allowed to wear underwear, the lack of it granted him easier access to you and Arthur was sliding in with a grunt a moment later, squeezing both your ass cheeks at the same time as he cursed.

"Fuck, baby. You're the tightest little thing I've ever laid down with" your fingers gripped the stable as you jumped when he landed a spank to one of your cheeks, slowly moving through you to get you to adjust. "Shit, look at you. Such a pretty little farm wife, baby" your face scrunched up in both discomfort and sensory overload due to how sensitive you felt down there.

"Please…" Your mouth always betrayed you in moments like these despite your best efforts to stay as quiet as possible.

But it felt even better when you let it get the best of you and drown you completely, the vile words coming out of your own mouth adding to the pressure between your hips before stars exploded in your vision.

"Please what, sweet little thing?" You felt his chest drape over your back as he rubbed his stubbly cheek against yours, hips starting to find a rhythm as the speed of his thrusts increased.

"Please… more" you couldn't help but lean your face against his to withstand the sensitivity, eyes fluttering as you chewed on your bottom lip in concentration, your velvety walls sheathing his veiny cock with every push.

Arthur's chest reverberated against your back. "Ya act like you're too good for all this, but deep down you're just a horny little hussy, ain't ya darlin'?" You whined loudly as you clenched around him, starting to move your own hips against his now. "Jus' look at you, whinin' and squeezin' 'round me in front of li'l Sally like a silly 'lil jezebel" that was what you had named the pony that stared at you with her curious eyes. "But ya love that deep down, don't ya?" Your eyebrows furrowed when his words started to crack the haze that had formed in your mind, making you lower your head to cancel him out and focus on your relief.

But you could never win with Arthur.

"You can go on ahead and deny it all you want. But this trashy li'l hole of yours tells me all I need to know everytime, honey" his lips bluntly moved against the shell of your ear as he gathered one of your knees in his hands and pushed it up against the frame of the stable before finding its way to your nipples again, other hand gliding down to the quivering organ between your legs.

As Arthur's hips sped up and your body started to rock back and forth against the wooden frame with each powerful thrust, the sound of skin clapping against its like filled up the smelly barn. His hat fell over your eyes and you knew you were in for a long day.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months ago

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The Farmer's Daughter 14

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You wake up with your head on Walt’s arm. You lay on your side, facing him as his chest rises and falls, a rumble thundering through him with each breath. His warmth has you in a sheen of sweat. You hesitate to move, not wanting to disturb him.

As you lay and listen to his snores, your stomach topturns. The realisation flows through you and turns to ice. As unusual as this awakening is now, this will be your forever. That’s what you agreed to. Your days, your nights, your everything will belong to Walt.

You squirm as suddenly you’re on fire, your scalp speckling with impending doom. You shift onto your back and slowly sit up. You bend your head forward and cover your face as you try to ease the spinning in your head.

You drag your feet from beneath the blankets and turn to sit with your back to him. To your future husband. You just can’t make it sound normal in your head.

You stand cautiously, mindful not to jostle the bed. His low snores carry through the air as you walk across the creaky floorboard, peeking over with each step. Your legs prickle with goosebumps as you get to the door. A shiver rolls over you and you hug yourself as the morning air flows up the bottom of the flannel shirt.

You leave him and find your way downstairs. You turn on the space heater and linger before it, building the courage to detach yourself from the glow of heat. You continue into the kitchen and carefully make your way around it.

The least you can do is make breakfast. You suppose that will be expected from now on. It’s not so out of the ordinary, it’s only Walt will be more than just a guest, more than a friend.

You take out eggs and a tray of breakfast sausage. You pause as you wonder if it’s too much. You hope he doesn’t mind.

You do your best to be quiet as you put a skillet on the oven to heat. You line a pan with the sausages and preheat the gas stove. You flutter your fingers anxiously as you wait, staying close to absorb some of the heat.

“Morning,” Walt’s gritty timbre sends a tremor through you.

You glance over as he enters, a brown robe around him as he rubs his eyes and sweeps his curls away from his face. You return his greeting as you crack the eggs into a bowl to whisk. He hums and nears the counter, grabbing a tin near the back.

“Coffee?” He wonders.

“Oh, no I–” you set the bowl down, “I didn’t– I can do that now.”

“Mm, thanks, sweetheart,” he puts the tin down and sidles closer to you, “sleep okay?”

His hand touches the small of your back as stands close. You nod, “mhmm,” you step up to the counter and grab the beat-up percolator. “Thanks, I… I did.”

“Rain’s let up,” he reluctantly parts and peers through the window as you fill the percolator from the tap, “should go out and check on the truck after breakfast… then we can head up to the bank.”

“The bank?” You shut off the faucet and loud the grinds, then pop the metal lid into place. You put the metal jug onto the burner and twist the knob.

“Get some thing’s sorted. I told your mother I’d bring some paperwork,” he explains as he sits in one of the wooden chairs. He watches you intently as you face him. He’s quiet as his eyes rove you from head to toe. A breath fills his chest, “and we can tell her the news.”

You try to smile and quickly turn your attention back to the eggs. You put oil on the skillet as you clear your throat, “yeah, she’ll… I think she’ll be happy.”

“Could do a lot worse around here,” he grits.

“I didn’t mean…” you shake your head as the oil sizzles, “I only… I’m getting used to the idea still.”

“Seem to be getting used to it,” he remarks, “lucky me got a woman like you to wake up to, make me breakfast…”

“Uh, yeah,” you pour the eggs into the pan.

He lets a long exhale and the chair groans beneath his weight, “it’s like a dream come true. Finally,” he drawls as the savoury smell of sausages blooms from the over, “about time I settled down. Least that’s what the old crones whisper down at the grocery store.”

“Oh, ha, well, everyone talks,” you shrug, “I’m sure they whisper about me too.”

“Uh huh, I heard them,” he scoffs as his tone harshens, “about you talking to Odinson… making eyes at him.”

“What–” you nearly choke, “I…I didn’t— I wouldn’t.”

You scrape the pan to scramble the eggs as your voice knots in your throat. It feels like an accusation but you know it was harmless. Thor was just being helpful and that was weeks ago.

“Well, you won’t,” he says tersely, “from now on, I don’t want you being friendly with the likes of him. He’s no good.”

“Walt, I wasn’t–”

“That’s before,” he interjects, “this is now. We’re gonna be married. Things are different.”

“I know,” you eke out, “but I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t do that.”

“Uh huh, but you flirted with me,” he insists.

“I…” you stop yourself before you begin. You didn’t flirt with him, you were nice to him. Like you always were. Like you had been for years.

“Sweet thing like you, it’s easy to get the wrong idea and men like Odinson, they always get the wrong idea,” he growls.

The percolator trembles and you turn off the burner. You quickly twist the other down to low and put a lid over the eggs to keep them warm. You turn to the cupboard and pick out a mug with an ombre of brown. You pour the steaming coffee and bring it to him.

“You don’t have to mope, I’m just making you aware,” he says, “you’re too sweet to see it. I’m protecting you. That’s what a husband does, right?”

You make yourself smile and swallow, “of course, thank you.”

“No, thank you,” he takes the mug from you with a wink, “look at you, my sweet little wife.”

#walter marshall #dark walter marshall #dark!walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #the farmer's daughter #au #backwoods au #series #drabble #night hunter

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digitalvision · 10 months ago

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Our wooden tableware is more than just beautiful objects; it's an invitation to reconnect with nature, to slow down and savor the everyday moments. Each piece is handcrafted with care, infused with the unique character of the wood, and ready to bring a touch of warmth and charm to your table. So go ahead, embrace the natural beauty, and let our wooden tableware transform your meals into moments of mindful joy.

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nekomori-art · 2 years ago

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The Burrowers 🐰

Available as a free desktop wallpaper for my Ko-fi supporters!

[ID: Illustration by Nekomori Art, depicting a colorful and crowded kitchen countertop backed by lush, green tiles. Sitting on the countertop, from left to right: a bright red microwave, a pink utensil jar holding wooden spoons and forks, a yellow tea kettle with a strawberry motif, a pair of orange drinking glasses, a green fruit bowl filled with apples and pears, and a blue milk jug just off to the side. There are also hanging racks above the countertop, which house some napkins, an old mug, more wooden utensils, and a mitten. Among all these wares are tiny white bunny characters with big, round heads and pink cheeks. They climb, sit, play, and run around, kicking up dust particles around them.]

#illustrators on tumblr #artists on tumblr #cottagecore #grandmacore #bunnies #gallery

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redtsundere-writes · 4 months ago

Text

Part 5: Hunting Season

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering.Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst.

Word Count: 3914 words.

Beginning. | �� Previous | Next →

Winter was dangerously approaching, and you could feel it in your body. In the darkest part of the castle, all the servants slept in giant bunks that stretched from the stone floor to the cobwebby ceiling in the freezing dungeon. The worries of survival and the stress of slavery were on pause so you could dream of a life outside the dark castle. You covered yourself as best you could with the thin cotton blanket that all the servants had. You tossed and turned to find the most comfortable position to sleep on the straw-filled mattress. Over the months you had perfected your technique to not freeze to death in winter in your sleep. You would wrap your arms around your legs and tuck your head between your knees to keep yourself warm. It was times like these when you missed the people who used to be your family.

You were about to complete one year of serving his majesty. You still couldn't believe that you had outlived him for so long, but you were glad. The fact that you didn't have any scratches from the king meant you were doing a good job. You hoped it would be that way for the rest of your stay there, meaning the rest of your life. There was also the possibility that you would become as important to him as Uraume, but that was asking for too much.

Loud metallic sounds woke you from your uncomfortable sleep. You slowly opened your eyes to get used to the sharp light coming from the open door. Uraume was standing at the entrance to the dungeon, banging on one of the kitchen pots with a metal spoon. All the servants were slowly waking up amid grunts of reluctance at the commotion. You pulled your hair back in confusion at the white ribbon that matched your uniform. This was the first time they had been woken up like this.

“Today is hunting day. After breakfast, head for the parade ground,” Uraume announced in their characteristic monotone voice before retreating.

When he closed the door behind him, all the servants wailed in unison. You didn't understand what was going on. All you knew was that this would be a day unlike any other. You quickly put on your white apron to join the others in their collective grief towards the dining room. Unlike the king's dining room, this one was larger and sadder. Instead of elegant ebony wood furniture and gold utensils, there were long wooden benches damaged from all the years of use and uneven china.

Upon entering the dining room, they were met with a completely different picture than usual. A table full of delicious dishes on marble tableware shined in the center of the cold room. Exotic fruit cut into different shapes, different cuts of meat paraded on beautiful gold trays and unknown foods were displayed around the elegant table. They looked like works of art. It was a buffet at the height of a royal feast. Although it was a magnificent surprise, the other servants did not look happy. They reluctantly served themselves, took advantage of the jugs of wine, and some sobbed as they ate bread.

“What's wrong with everyone?” You asked the servant in front of you in the serving line.

“It's hunting day,” the servant replied dryly.

If there was one thing that set you apart from Sukuna servants, it was that they were all over 40 years old. They were old curmudgeons, judgmental ladies or people who were just waiting for Sukuna to kill them after making some superficial mistake. So most of them envied your youth, but they also felt sorry for you because you had ended up in the same hell as them at such a young age. Luckily, there were a few exceptions.

“I know that. It's the first day of April, the best month to hunt quail, wild boar and deer.” You answered excitedly.

“I forget that this is your first year here.” Said the woman before turning around between limps to look you in the eye. “We won't be hunters, we'll be the prey.” She corrected you in a whisper, about to burst into tears.

She lifted her skirt to show you that she had a horrible cut above her leg. The reason for her limp. One after another, the veteran servants around you showed you their survival wounds. Across the chest, some were armless and others were one-eyed. You hugged the porcelain plate of shock. That's when you realized why the shock. They were being served what would potentially be their last meal. With that disheartening feeling, you helped yourself to a few crêpes with jelly and strawberries. With your eyes, you looked around for the one servant you considered your friend, Mrs. Inoue.

“Today looks like it's going to be an interesting day, doesn't it?” You greeted her as you sat down next to her.

“How can you be so positive in such an environment?” she asked you with a faint smile.

Mrs. Inoue was a 50-year-old woman you had met on your first day at the castle. Her ashen hair, raisin skin and trembling fingers made her look older than she really was, the result of a life of tireless hard work. Although she had a face of few friends and kept to herself, she was always good to you.

“I'd rather be happy on my last day of life,” you replied before biting into a juicy strawberry.

With her arms entwined, you helped Mrs. Inoue out of the castle at her slow but sure pace. The cloudy sky, cool wind and green grass welcomed you to the expansive parade ground. They lined up with the other servants to wait for instructions. At the perimeter of the castle, several curses in shining armor watched them like vultures. If any of the servants tried to escape, they would be snacked on by the first one to sink his teeth into them. They watched them from above, sneering with possessive eyes. You tried to ignore them, but it was difficult when you could hear their whispers.

Two curses opened the gigantic main doors of the castle to usher in the great king Sukuna and Uraume. They reached for the trumpets under their armpits to sound an imperial march to introduce the highest authority of the nation as an inauguration to the great event that was to take place. They stepped onto the platform to the rhythm of the music to get a better look at all the inferior beings who were about to give their lives to entertain the tyrant they served.

Uraume called the roll of all the servants, making sure they were all present. Sukuna did not take his eyes off you, his gaze constantly analyzing you as always. You tightened your dress to calm your nerves. Sometimes you wish you knew what he was thinking when his cursed eyes fell on you amidst the sea of heads.

“The rules are the same as every year, but I will repeat them for the new servants,” Uraume began their speech.

If Sukuna has something in common with the other kings, it is that he loves hunting day. The royals usually carry out this activity with animals that are eaten at the end of the day in a great feast. A refined event to test the discipline of the upper class, but for Sukuna it is an opportunity to satisfy his sadistic needs. His version of the hunting day consists of throwing all his servants into a dangerous forest on the outskirts of the kingdom. They will all try to hide or run away like white rabbits so he can catch them. To mark those he has found, he cuts them down with his cursed technique. Some die in the process, but most survive, only having to deal with the injury for life.

“The last one to be caught will not be cut and will get a week off from housework as a reward. This is with the intention that you take this activity seriously,” Uraume finished their speech.

“Wow, that doesn't sound bad,” you commented, surprised that the tyrant would give such a generous prize. “What will you do if you win?” you asked Mrs. Inoue.

“Yeah, right, like if I could win,” the lady laughed at herself.

“Oh, come on. Don't give up just like that,” you encouraged her as you hugged her arm affectionately.

In line, all the servants were escorted by Uraume and the other curse knights into the forest while the king rode in a luxurious carriage behind them all. The leaves crunched under their feet, the rich smell of earth dampened by the morning breeze reached your nose and the gigantic trees welcomed them to the battlefield. You would let those behind you know if there was a branch they needed to dodge or loose dirt they could slip on. You noticed how one of the servants began to sob louder and louder with each step he took. The old man was looking around paranoid in search of an escape route and scratching the back of his neck anxious. You wouldn't be surprised to see the poor man pee himself. The servant behind him was trying to calm him down, but nothing seemed to work. That was not a good sign.

“I can't do it anymore!” The man screamed in horror before breaking formation and fleeing in panic in an attempt to get lost in the shady trees.

He could only take three steps before a curse caught him in its jaws, eating him alive in front of everyone without remorse. The poor man was writhing and screaming for help, but no one dared to help him, fearing of suffering the same fate. He was already more dead than alive in that situation. Everyone sobbed at the bloody scene. His own panic had just consumed a colleague. The curse ripped off his head and threw it towards you to scare you even more. The head fell in front of your feet, its eyes wide open and staring at you. There was not a trace of life behind them. It was just a pair of eyes that used to belong to someone. Sukuna arrived on the scene, surprising everyone. He inserted his claws into the man's black hair to lift it off the ground, while his equal continued to eat like a messy child. His gaze traveled between the faces of his terrified servants until it reached your face drab with shock.

It was just like that time he killed your rude colleagues in front of you. You didn't scream, cry or vomit like you used to. You just processed the situation in your mind to make sure you were fully awake. You were completely shocked to see the insides of that man who once gave you advice or helped you do an assignment. That man no longer existed, he was now food for the curse and the rest would serve as compost.

“What are you waiting for? You have 5 minutes to get out of my sight,” Sukuna said before taking a bite of the head as if it were a juicy red apple, filling his lips with blood and dead skin, starting the event.

Everyone ran terrified into the forest while screaming for their lives, including Mrs. Inoue. You blinked a couple of times, taking in the situation. This was really happening, and you had to act fast. You bowed to your majesty before escaping his dangerous sight, running to the opposite side of where the servants had headed. Sukuna smiled as he watched you run through the trees, your dress, and hair swinging back and forth in the wind. You were fast, you were in good shape.

“I still don't understand why you think so highly of her,” Uraume said as she approached him while he was losing sight of you.

“You'll see,” He answered before wiping his lips of blood.

Sukuna threw the head to the side and followed the direction where most of the servants had run. Uraume just followed him. They could question him all she wanted, but he always had the last word.

You were running between trees, bushes, and plants that could possibly kill you. Your feet were starting to get tired, you could barely breathe from exhaustion and your hands were pulling on your long skirt so you wouldn't trip. The wind whipped your face as you followed the steady rhythm of your panicked steps. You didn't know where you were running to nor did you have a plan in mind. You just ran in the opposite direction of your colleagues because it was logical that a hunter would prefer to go after several prey rather than just one.

You really didn't want him to hurt you. You had done so many things together that you doubted he was capable of doing such a thing. He always tried to touch you gently as if you were the most fragile rose in his garden. You had slept together, he had fed you the best food he could offer, defended you, given you a shower and had played together. You wanted to be by his side, but here you were, running away from him.

You didn't see a thick tree root sticking out of the fertile soil. Your foot got stuck in the hole, causing you to stumble. You fell onto your stomach, knocking the air out of your chest. You tried to recover quickly, but fell back to the ground from the lack of oxygen in your system. Your head began to spin, so you gave up. You stretched your limbs out like a starfish on land. Your gaze began to cloud over with tears emerging from your eyes. The plowed leaves that heralded the end of autumn danced over you in an attempt to lift your spirits. Sukuna will hurt you soon. You wiped your tears with the back of your hand. You felt so foolish for thinking Sukuna considered you someone special. You had no powers, you weren't the most beautiful girl in the kingdom, much less had royal blood. You were just another servant he would mark or, worse, kill. Your heart was beating a thousand beats an hour from the adrenaline coursing through your veins. An agonizing scream from one of your companions cut through the sky, causing a couple of little birds to fly away in fright.

You got up little by little to avoid falling again. You dusted yourself off and took a deep breath. It was confirmed. This was not a nightmare. If you wanted to survive, you had to keep running. You set off again towards the opposite side from where the scream had come from. You would do your best to be the last to be found, but nothing assured you that this would be the case. If a cut was the price for having been caressed by him, then you would pay it.

You kept running until you reached a cave in the foothills of a gigantic mountain. You debated whether to enter, it was so dark inside that you couldn't risk going in without knowing what was inside first. In an attempt to see beyond the darkness, you took a step inside. As soon as your foot touched the stone surface, a roar emerged from the incognito. Slowly, a three-headed bear came into view. A gasp of surprise escaped your throat. Its six red eyes were staring at you hungrily and the white foam coming from its snouts was not a promising sight. You were now facing a beast lesser than Sukuna, but one that would eat you alive no matter what. You backed up little by little, but he kept advancing at your pace.

“Shit…” You whispered before running for your life.

Your feet were moving as fast as they could, even faster due to the adrenaline rush that was running like crazy through your body. One false step and you were dead. The bear had its eyes fixed on you and was not about to give up until it consumed your flesh. In the distance you saw a tree that you knew you could easily climb. You ran to the tree and jumped onto its branches as if they were a makeshift ladder. You would be safe there. Grizzly bears don't know how to climb… or so you thought. Your hand-eye coordination was being put to the test as you searched for the next branch to continue climbing quickly. Your labored breathing barely let you think, but you had to focus.

The path between the branches ended when there were only thin branches that couldn't possibly support your weight. You held on tightly to turn and look at the bear. Your eyes widened as you realized you weren't dealing with just any bear. Besides having three heads, it was climbing the tree perfectly. It was the end of you. You backed up as far as you could, but if you chose wrong you could fall out of the tree. You looked down to see if you could survive the fall. A small branch broke under your feet, it fell for 2 seconds. If your math didn't fail you, it was a fall of at least 30 meters. If you survived, you would break a bone and be easy prey for the rabid bear. You watched as the dangerous beast continued to climb the tree little by little, you had no options left… Well, you had one left.

The poor servant broke out in a cold sweat, his limbs trembled, and his throat closed as he watched Sukuna slowly approach him. Without hesitation, he cut the air. A deep wound appeared on the man's abdomen. He writhed on the ground and shrieked his mother's name from the excruciating pain. Some servants, who had already been marked, dragged him back to the castle to heal him like the others.

“This is number 53. Only one is missing,” Uraume informed their majesty.

“She's still out there, isn't she?” Sukuna asked, subtly proud.

“That's right. She's the winner in her first year, how lucky,” they replied, playing it down.

“It's not luck,” Sukuna corrected him. “She walked away from her herd when she ran. She knew perfectly well what she was doing,” he turned around to look for you.

“Is that why you are interested in her? Because she is smart?” Uraume questioned him as he followed.

“It's one of her qualities, but she has something else. Something that no other woman has,” his main servant arched their eyebrow at that answer. His majesty used to be someone direct and focused, why was he hiding the reason for his choice?

“So, what is it?”

“My king!” Your voice echoed through the trees like an echo that lost power with distance. Sukuna arched his eyebrow when he heard you. I could recognize your voice anywhere in the world. Had you given up so quickly? “Help me, please, my king!”

Uraume was about to say something to him, but he disappeared with the speed of a snap. They were speechless at how quickly he had reacted to your call for help. Did he care that much about you? They ran at full speed to catch up with him. They couldn't help but smile to herself. At last… her king had a clear weakness.

Sukuna ran through the trees until he reached your location. Quickly, he realized the situation you were in. You had given up because you were about to be eaten by a bear more terrifying than he was. You were at the top of the tree, with no clear escape. He could see your face scared and about to burst into tears because you were facing your end face to face. You had given up and decided to call him in the face of the situation. You, a human who knew you could be hurt by him, decided to call him anyway. He knew you were special, but you surprised him more and more every day. Uraume didn't take long to arrive, a few seconds late and with their heart in their throat from the effort, but they arrived.

“My king, this way!” You cried as soon as you saw that he had come to your call for help while you waved your arm from side to side so he could see your whereabouts.

“Jump,” Sukuna ordered you with a mischievous smile as he crossed his arms.

Uraume was surprised to hear that. He had run halfway through the forest at such a speed to ask you to jump instead of saving you? They thought he cared enough about you, but it seems they had thought wrong. No servant would be crazy enough to jump that high for a tyrant like Sukuna.

You looked at the bear and then at your king. Both could kill you easily, but you had to do your lord's bidding before anything else. If he asked you to do so, it was for a reason, wasn't it? Without hesitating twice, you jumped from the tree while letting out a war cry. You closed your eyes waiting for the painful impact that would cause you to break a bone or two. The first second step, the second would come soon. Just as you thought you were about to hit the ground, you were suspended in midair. You slowly opened your eyes to see the ground in front of your nose.

“Huh?”

Sukuna had caught you just in time by the knot of your apron as if you were a human yo-yo. He tossed you as if you weighed nothing so that you fell right into his strong arms. The king cradled you as if you were his tender baby. Your brain could not comprehend what was happening. His four eyes looked at you tenderly as he smiled proudly that you had obeyed him. You no longer knew if your heart was pounding from adrenaline or from joy that he had saved you.

“Good girl,” He said before ruffling your hair with one of his four hands.

Uraume understood at that moment what Sukuna meant when he said “you had potential”. You were not the most beautiful, nor the most intelligent, nor, much less, powerful. But you were extremely obedient and loyal to such an extent that you could risk your own body for him. You didn't question or challenge him, you just did what he asked without hesitation for a second.

Sukuna cut the bear into thousands of pieces with a slash while looking you in the eye. Your eyes wanted to see how the bear had finished, but his black claws directed your jaw back to him so you wouldn't lose sight of him, taking care not to scratch your face. You had already seen too much.

“Thank you for saving me, my king,” you said between stutters, still in shock.

“It's the least I can do for this year's winner,” he said before walking back to the castle. Two of his arms tightened around your body, while another one went around your back, his hand holding your ass. Your cheeks flushed as you realized he was touching you shamelessly. “Do you know what you'll be doing on your week off?” he asked. You couldn't help but smile at that.

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