#anything i add will just be like mindless blabbering

[aspeckof-stardust]

.

[animatedrapture]

RINTOBER : [ forbidden fruit ]

suna rintarō x reader

word count: 2,418

tags: NSFW, GOD COMPLEX, SACRILEGIOUS, power play (?), degradation, choking, momentary exhibitionism(?), size kink(?)

a/n: thank you to my precious wife @toffees-main for proofreading this for me and for first, urging me to actually write it when i was brainrotting again lmao. also, i figured this would be good for rintober! so here it is.

Neither you nor your boyfriend, Suna Rintarō, knew what had cut the knot that tied his self-control together. Perhaps it was the raven colored silk fabric that had adored your body for the night, or the sheer white and lacy panties that you had paired with it in contrast—the one he watched you slipped on as you got dressed for this very event.

Watching as you did so had his breath hitching, "Bunny," he even groaned. He was as deadpanned as they came but you were an often exception to this; you and the way you looked at him, made him feel, writhed from underneath him, to the way you'd moan into his ear with repetitive, blabbered nonsense; all of it just meaning and begging him for more, more, more.

The venue was littered with pro athletes like Suna and businessmen who had their names adorned with brands and companies they owned, sponsoring teams and individual athletes alike; usually, one would assume that Suna Rintarō would be the eye candy in these events—and he is—it's simply that right now, you looked more enticing than the forbidden fruit that Adam and Eve had sinfully indulged in from the beginning of time.

With the dress shining as you moved, scatteredly placed lights affecting how it accentuated your figure, you truly were a sight to behold, glowing like an angel, and the eyes that followed you knew.

Perhaps it was the way Suna didn't know what to do from the moment the both of you had stepped out of the limousine to the very last second that the two of you had stayed in that godforsaken party, only three hours later; in what seemed to be longest three hours of his life, he was in the constant state of either threatening other men who were nowhere near ashamed with the way they gawked at you and eyed you like a hawk as if you were a prize to be won in an illegal auction or staring at you and how your dress danced with every dip of your body.

It especially didn't help how you looked back at him, eyes swimming with neediness, your touch never once leaving his body. At first, you were convinced it was the nerves—you're nervous, this is the first time you'd gone to such a high-end event that never ran short with big names, important people, huge companies—that's why your tight grip on his upper arm wouldn’t leave for even a second as if you'd get lost with no idea how to find your way back to him. Though, it didn't take long for you to figure out that while yes, you're nervous, you also can't get enough of watching the way Suna's muscles flexed through the suit he had on with every movement he made, or the way his fox-like eyes looked down on you with so much want, nor can you get enough with the way he'd subconsciously pull your body closer to him for whatever reason you didn't have the liberty to ponder on about.

It could even be the way he felt how drenched you were when he had sat you on his lap in one of the corners of the venue just to take a little break from all the socialization. How he had rubbed his hand up and down your waist before tugging you to the corner, his lips latching on to the skin where your neck and shoulder met with a harsh suck—an immediate sigh of relief escaping past your lips as he did so. After all, it's high time he stakes an even more evident claim on you, right? It's not like you minded how he was littering the visible parts of your neck and chest with lovebites, especially when his hand was snaking its way underneath your dress, caressing your inner thighs and ghosting over the oh so wet patch of your underwear.

“Please,” you whined, grinding yourself against him, desperate for some sort of friction that would ease the aching need you had to just let him bend you over to fuck you.

Maybe it was how you were possibly staining his slacks with your slick as you grinded against him, how he was practically claiming you right in that very public venue, and how you begged for him is what made him indulge in your pleas. You held your breath in anticipation as you feel his finger move your panties to the side—and as the boyfriend who just knew you through and through, he kisses you to silence the moan that you let out the moment his finger traced the line along your slit, rubbing your clit before easing his fingers inside you without any resistance.

God, it was almost shameful how dripping wet you were for him. Only almost, though, because the only thing that truly mattered was the approving hum he'd let out, vibrating against the hand you had placed against his chest. When Suna adds another finger, curling it to hit that spongy, sweet spot, it takes all your willpower not to clasp your legs together and just beg for him to take you right there—something you're sure he wouldn't be too opposed to if the tent in his pants poking your ass would be anything to go by.

When he pulls his fingers out, glistening with your wetness under the glow of the place, your face flushes.

"Clean it up, bunny," he whispers to your ear, and his voice is husky; it was unfair, his voice alone sounded seducing and you were nearly mindless to just how aroused you were.

Suna Rintarō is like sin. The sweetest, most delicious, addicting sin. You know this and you're almost sure Suna does, too. He was temptation—the snake and the forbidden fruit molded into one, perfect being; and you were no people pleaser, but it's always a different case when it comes to Suna. If it pleased him, you'd do it in a heartbeat.

So you do as you're told, like a good bunny, Suna would say. You wrap your lips around his fingers, tasting yourself as you bob your head from the base to his fingertips. Suna looks calm as ever but you know better with the rapid beat of his heart against his chest, its every skip echoing to your hand.

You let his fingers go from your mouth with a pop, "All clean, sir," you tell him, eyes wide, pupils blown out with lust. Suna places a kiss to your forehead, murmuring, "That's a good bunny."

It was a shame the marks Suna had littered all over you did nothing to keep the predator-like gaze that fell over you once the both of you came back. What was it? Did he have to fuck you mindless in front of them to get the message across?

The last straw was the man who approached you. You, specifically—not even sparing Suna a glance as he stopped at nothing with his attempts to flirt with you. Suna lets you handle it as he stood next to you, his arm still around your waist protectively as one of EJP Raijin's sponsors talked his ear off. You're a big girl and it was a lot more satisfying to tell other men off on your own.

"I have a modeling company as well, we'd be happy to have a beauty like you there. I personally would—"

There's a polite yet nearly deadly smile you pull off when you say, "I'm not interested," and you tell him this dead in the eye, without waver.

"C'mon darling, I'd love to have you—"

"And what you think doesn't matter to me, I don't care," you continue with a smile that should've told him it was really time to back out. It was such a shame it didn't, as the man reaches out to take your wrist.

Quick as the man had your wrist in his grasp, was as quick did Suna had the man's arm bent painfully to his back, Suna's expressionless eyes looking down at the man with such distaste. He didn't need to waste his breath to say the man was a scum of the earth, absolutely worthless, lesser than the gum on his shoe.

"She already told you to fuck off, didn't she?"

Suna Rintarō really was beyond the description of words. The way Suna towered over the man who couldn't take no for an answer, who winced at the death grip his bent arm was subjected to, who was now babbling apologies—hell, it made you press your thighs together.

It was your luck you didn't need to wait any longer after that.

Suna had your face shoved into the mattress, your ass up and cunt dripping as it clenched around nothing. You swore you were about to cry with how much you just wanted him to fuck you without reservation, as if all you were to him was a fuckdoll to use and nothing more, so when you feel him lick up a stripe along your slit, you whine.

"Rin, no, please, need your cock now, please," you beg, and he chuckles at you, but it's dark, like he's telling you what a pathetic little whore you were to be begging for him like that.

But since you are his precious bunny afterall, he'll indulge in your wants; he lines up the head of his cock to your entrance, and when he's pushed it in, your thighs are already trembling as you cream around it instantaneously—pleased at the feeling of finally having his thick cock easing into you.

"Such a slut, bunny, cumming just from me putting it in," He says before his voice lowers and he tells you, "Gonna fuck you dumb, baby."

His hips snap, completely sheathing into your velvet walls that clenched around him as if you didn't want him to go. He doesn't miss a beat though, he's immediately rutting into you at an unforgiving pace.

"Oh fuck, Rin, s-so deep, slow d—"

"Don't care, bunny, 's what you wanted, wasn't it? So be a good girl and take it."

You know you're moaning, but you don't know what words were coming out of your mouth anymore, all you knew was the sensation of Suna and his thick cock stretching your little cunny out, rearranging your insides.

"Awww—fuck, bunny gone dumb so quickly?"

When he thrusts into you in such a way that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head, you scream, "God, fuck, god, yes! god yes!" 

That's what halts Suna's thrusts, it helps you come to your senses a little bit as you try your best to look back at him, confused why he stopped.

"What did you just call me, you desperate cock whore?" Suddenly, he sounded way more dominating than usual, way more intimidating, it made you feel so much smaller in comparison. 

You wish you can answer him, but you can't—all you knew was the overwhelming pleasure you were swimming in. You shake your head the best you can, "D-don't know, Rin," you sob as you feel him slip out of you.

Suna flips you over to your back, the way he's staring down at you is making you completely breathless, and you—you were glowing like an angel, like you were at the party earlier. Only now, your hair was sprawled out into the bed, your skin littered with the marks he made, and your face—beautiful in the most erotic, sinful of ways; tear-stained cheeks, eyes half lidded gazing up to him in complete submission and lips parted.

He presses one of your legs to your chest, the other spread open for him as he lines himself to your sopping entrance again, "You called me your god, dumb bitch," he said as he pounds into you completely—so particularly deep that it had your mind reeling.

You feel Suna's large hand wrap around your throat, squeezing, "You worship me that much, bunny? Such a devoted little whore for your god, always lettin' me use you as I please, hm?" he says as he regains his brutal pace, you're not even sure how many times you've cum on his cock at this point, all you know is that you're clenching around him, sucking him in with every merciless thrust.

When you don't answer, mind too hazy and completely dazed, Suna tightens his grip around your throat, "When your god asks you a question, you fucking answer, yea? Or is this all you're good for? A body for the god you worship so much to fuck?"

"Ah—yes! You're my god. Nngh—please, god, please, I'm so close," you sob, you're looking at him with so much desperation as he continues to fuck you, your nails digging into his arms as you try to take each of his harsh pounding. Suna likes you like this—completely untethered for him and him alone.

Suna was your god, the only one who can make you feel like this, as if you're in heaven with nothing but bliss, nothing but pleasure.

"You are, aren't you? My own whore made just for her god—for me," his thick length that was twitching inside you and the dirty words coming from him were putting your senses into complete overdrive. The tip of his cock was kissing your cervix, it was nearly painful if it wasn't for the sensation of his hand around your throat and the delicious way his dick was stroking your walls in all the right ways.

You nod desperately as you feel your orgasm nearly at the brink, you're sobbing with each time he fucks into you, "Yes! God, please—let me cum, god, please, please, please," you beg, you repeat it over and over like a prayer to him.

"Cum for me, bunny. Cum all over your god's cock like a good girl," He goes faster as both of you reach your high.

The way you whine while you convulse around him, moaning about how good he was fucking you, screaming, "Yes, god! Yes!"  with your cunt clenching impossibly tighter as you squirt all over is what does it for him—his movement stutters and his languid thrusts loses its rhythm as he empties into you, his warm cum painting in your insides white.

You're glowing again—from underneath him. Your love and devotion to Suna Rintarō is truly unparalleled as you give him a lazy smile, and you tell him, "God, thank you, Rin."

That's how Suna knows you're made just for your god—for him.

©️ written by animatedrapture; all content belongs to animatedrapture. do not plagiarize, repost, or modify.

[venusofthehardsells]

Dreamgirl [part 2]

ReaderxBucky Barnes [Part 1] Summary: Bucky tries to adjust to his new life in the Avengers compound. One day he meets a girl who might be everything he needs in order to move on, but is his past really that far away? Warnings for this chapter: none, a bit of flirting (general series warnings include noncon, violence, mental illness, feels probably) A/N: Wow, I can’t believe the all the love chapter one of this story got! Thank you so much! ♥ I hope you will like this one as well. It’s the last “fluffy” chapter before things start to get chaotic dark, so you can all still jump ship if it’s not your thing. Extra special thanks to @cake-writes for beta-reading this for me! You’re the best ♥ Let me know what you think ~

Bucky can tell she recognises him from the way her face lights up in a perfectly glowing smile. "Hi," she beams at him. She is wearing makeup now, lips perfectly painted and eyes expertly defined with mascara and shadows. Her hair is no longer the unruly bedhead she had sported in the park earlier. In fact, she looks thoroughly put together, and pretty in an entirely different way. This type of beauty is right in his face, shining out harshly through her lipstick and wide, practised smile. "Hi," is all he manages to answer, but he quickly follows it up with a smile of his own. "Thank you for, you know, before," she says and he can practically feel the heat radiating off her face. Or is it his own? Shit. "Oh, it was... it's no problem," he answers, somehow sounding more casual and confident than he feels. "Well, it would have been if I'd lost them, so... thank you. Really." There is a change in her face that makes him want to heave for breath. She is still smiling, but it is as if the overly honeyed, slightly aggressive customer service mask vanishes. Bucky imagines that this smile is somehow more... her own.

"Anytime," he manages with a weak imitation of his confident pre-war smirk, but it seems to do the trick because she chuckles and looks down nervously. His superhuman hearing picks up on the fact that her heart is racing in her chest and it makes his own body an all too heated place to be all of a sudden. "So…" She bites her lip and he doesn't know if it's intentional, doesn't care, because all he can suddenly think about is if that mouth tastes as sweet as it looks. "What can I get you, Mr...?" Bucky has to swallow thickly before he can even think of anything to say that doesn't include all the inappropriate images that are now parading through his mind. "Bu-James," he quickly amends. It feels right to give her his old name. His legal name. It's not as heavy as the nickname he has borne all his life, the one loaded with guilt and horrors enough to make anyone lose sleep. "It's James. And I'll have a black coffee, please." She laughs again, as if that's exactly what she expected him to order. "To stay or to-go?" There is a hopeful edge lining her words and Bucky swears he hears her heart stop for just a second. A smile he has absolutely no control over falls onto his lips. "Haven't got any plans this morning, might as well sit down." It's a lie, but he is pretty sure Steve will forgive him for skipping their morning workout this once. He will have to. "All right James, black coffee to stay coming right up." “Hey, uhm… what’s your name?��� He feels warm all over and he's sure it's not because of his sweatshirt. She tells him and he repeats the name, slowly, carefully, savouring the feel of it in his mouth. When he takes out his wallet to pay for the coffee, she shakes her head at him. "On the house." She winks before turning around to get the coffee maker going and Bucky can't help but be just a little bit relieved, seeing as all the blood in his body is divided between his face and his crotch. The way her work-trousers hug her ass doesn't help. He can't remember the last time another person made him feel this way. It's uncomfortable and disorientating and exhilarating all at the same time. A part of him, a huge part in fact, tells him to get out now and hope he never sees her again. The last seventy years of his life have taught him how precious control is, in any situation. It is what kept him alive through decades of firefights and infiltrations and other covert missions for HYDRA. And right now, looking at the cute barista, he doesn't feel very much in control at all. Bucky mentally kicks himself and gets his face back in order before she turns back around. He didn't have any control in the claws of HYDRA. He wasn't even human for all those years, just a weapon, a tool... an asset. A mindless thing created by a ruthless organisation, walking around in the shell of a dead man, whose own life was over in the blink of an eye. The Asset controlled him, but Bucky Barnes has probably never had as much control in his life as he currently has. And now that he's officially back from the dead, he just wants something that makes sense. Not unlike his time in Wakanda. Even though goat-farming with one arm had its disadvantages, it was still the closest thing to peace he remembers feeling post-enlistment. There are not a lot of goats in New York, but something else could surely make him feel the same way and he doesn’t mind. It's not as if he ever really got to try ‘normal’ back before it all went to hell. Steve might have left those kinds of wishes behind in the ice if he ever really had them in the first place (Bucky is beginning to think there is only ever gonna be the next fight or the next mission when it comes to his old friend), but Bucky can't give up the hope that now that he has been given this second chance, there might somehow be a life for him here. A life, a job, a home, happiness - and someone to share it all with. “Here you go, James.” Her voice shakes him out of his thoughts. “Thanks, doll.” He makes sure to softly brush his fingers against hers when he takes the cup she holds out to him, lets his touch linger for just a second longer than necessary. She swallows when the cup and its warmth is out of reach along with his hand and he realises that she has been holding her breath. He shoots her another crooked half-smile now that he’s sure he’s affecting her too and he has to fight back a moan, because the faintest trace of arousal finds its way to him in the mix of coffee and floral perfume. She’s wet for him. The knowledge makes his cock twitch and he’s infinitely grateful for the counter separating them. His loose sweatpants don’t hide much. God, he wants to lean over, bury his face in her neck, take a long, deep breath of her scent. It’s maddening. He takes a sip of the coffee and licks his lips a little, slowly, deliberately, without breaking eye contact with her. Her sweet smile is still in place, but he might as well have licked her cunt with the way her composure stiffens and he can tell she is rubbing her thighs together behind the safety of the counter. “Damn, you make a mean cup of coffee.” Bucky mostly says it to have a reason not to sit down, just to keep talking to her and she doesn’t seem to mind the least. “I suppose the last few months haven’t been a complete waste then,” she chuckles. Despite it being morning, peak time, they’re still the only two people in the coffee shop. Normally, it means Bucky doesn’t have to suffer through standing in line and waiting through another ten orders, and he likes that, but today it means he can linger by the till and play the part of the man he used to be so many years ago. Even if it isn’t really him anymore, just pretending not to have a care in the world feels good. “How come I haven’t seen you here before?,” he asks lightly, taking another sip of coffee. He likes to think he would have noticed her before or at least remember her now if she had served him coffee in the past. “Do you usually come in around this time?” He nods. “One of my colleagues had to go home rather urgently yesterday. Something about a family crisis; I don’t think he’s coming back. My manager asked me if I could take his shifts and I couldn’t really afford to turn down the extra hours. So here I am I suppose,” she says with a laugh. “Making coffee full time in a second-rate chain-café.” She sighs for dramatic effect. “What am I supposed to do during the weekend then? If I need a good morning coffee, that is,” Bucky adds with a chuckle and he can feel himself blush again, but he’s getting used to the sensation. And it’s worth it, he thinks smugly, when he hears her sharp intake of breath. Oh, how he’s missed this. “Well, I… I might find myself near the park sometime Saturday morning. And if I happened to be in the right mood, it’s possible that maybe I’d bring coffee enough for two…,” she trails off, biting her lip and he wants nothing more than to bite it for her, to suck on that perfectly shaped bottom lip of hers that she’s so infuriatingly flaunting in front of him. “It would be a lucky coincidence then, if I were to run through that very park on Saturday morning, too. Maybe around eight…” It’s later than his usual routine, but he figures it would be pushing his luck to ask her to meet him any earlier on her day off. “It certainly would. I really hope I can be persuaded to go.” “Oh, I can be very persuasive, doll…” There it is again, that scent of arousal gathering beneath her skirt and the sound of her heart beating a million miles a minute. “I’m counting on it.” Her own boldness seems to surprise her and he can tell she is about to blabber something about not usually being so forward or, god forbid it, maybe even an apology, but the bell above the door chimes just then and her gaze jerks towards the two newly arrived customers, a pair of women in workout clothes. “Persuasion will have to wait, it seems,” he smirks and leaves the counter to sit down with his cup of coffee while she takes the orders from the two women, one of whom Bucky actually recognises as the hot blonde who sometimes walks her dog around the area in the mornings. He studies her discreetly over the edge of the coffee cup. She is still undeniably attractive, but he quickly finds that her face eludes him the moment he closes his eyes. What remains to him though, are the sparkling eyes and contagious smile of the barista. The way she bit her lip, looking up at him through her mascara-coated lashes, has him completely forgetting the taste of the coffee. He is so distracted by the thought of her that he doesn’t notice his phone until the second ring. The device almost slips from his hand as he stubbornly fumbles it from the pocket of his sweatshirt with his flesh hand, never lifting his metal fingers from the safety of his pocket. “Hello?,” he asks quietly. “Hey Buck. I was just wondering where you were,” comes Steve’s voice, carefully adjusted to sound casual. Bucky almost groans at his friend’s tone. Steve is only trying to show that he cares, he knows that, but he can’t shake the feeling that America’s golden boy is turning into a helicopter parent when it comes to him. “Just getting coffee,” Bucky mumbles guiltily. He knows Stark has a tracker in both his phone and his arm, hell, Stark probably has trackers sewn into Bucky’s clothes just to be on the safe side, so it’s not like Steve doesn’t actually know where he is. “I… I needed more time today. Sorry.” “Oh. Bad night?” Bucky is half a breath away from kicking the table through a window. He only trusts Steve to wake him up when his nightmares get unbearable, no one else. He almost sent Wanda flying into the next hallway once when she heard him cry out in the night and came in to check on him. If it hadn’t been for her powers, his metal arm would have broken all of her ribs when he lunged at her still half asleep. He still feels bad about it whenever he sees her. With Steve, however, it is as if his sleeping mind can sense who enters his room. His is the only comforting face Bucky knows and he’s grateful to have someone around who takes all of his issues in stride. The only problem is Steve’s damn saviour complex, that he thinks everything is his fault and thus, his responsibility. “Could’ve been worse,” Bucky answers reluctantly. An outright lie is not the way to go about it. “Sorry I wasn’t there, pal. I didn’t hear you.” “’s fine.” He wants nothing more than to shrug it off and hang up. “I’m fine. But I, uhm… took longer than I thought. Think I’ll have to skip the morning routine.” “Bucky…” There is a pause on the line that Bucky doesn’t like; his hand curls into a fist in his pocket. “It’s almost noon. You’ve been gone all morning, Tony’s gonna freak if you miss the briefing and you know…” The rest of Steve’s words is a distant mutter that drifts further and further away as he slowly places the phone on the table not to drop it. His fingers are shaking. His entire arm, hell, his entire body is shaking. There is no way it could have been later than seven or eight when he came into the coffee shop. He risks a glance at the clock on the wall. 11.45. Where did all that time go?

[TRANSMISSION] ALHABOR: MADE CONTACT WITH THE ASSET. DOESN’T SUSPECT ME ORION: WHAT OF THE SEQUENCE? ALHABOR: SAFEWORDS SEEMINGLY INTACT. FURTHER TESTING NEEDED ORION: I WANT DAILY REPORTS ALHABOR: UNDERSTOOD ORION: HAIL HYDRA ALHABOR: HAIL HYDRA

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