#fuck i forgot the nostrils

[sweeneydino]

Turtle.

This is what i wanted to see✨

[whateveriwant]

Actually I'm not done talking about Mr. Simon Fucks-Himself-Stupid Riley just yet :(

I'm picturing a scenario where you, a civilian, are visiting your boyfriend at his base. Maybe you're there to deliver something, like a file he forgot at home or the lunch he said he didn't need. Either way, whatever your cover story for being there is, the end result is the same: you, on your back, knees up by your ears, sprawled across Simon's desk as he fucks you like his life depends on it.

Being a Lieutenant grants him the luxury of having a private office where he can engage in such extracurriculars, but that doesn't mean it's without some major risks – namely, prying ears that might be lurking in the hallway outside.

But being discreet shouldn't be an issue, should it? I mean, a man known infamously as “Ghost” should have no problem staying quiet, right?

Wrong.

Turns out, not only does that tight hole of yours reduce your boyfriend to a dumb, drooling mess, it makes him a dumb, drooling mess who can't keep his fucking mouth shut.

So while you have the wherewithal to clamp a hand over your lips to try muffling your lewd noises, Simon is out here moaning and groaning unabashedly like something sent forward in time from the Paleolithic. You could try asking him to cover his mouth, but it seems an impossible task; his hands are a little preoccupied with making sure he doesn't fuck you right over the edge of his desk.

While you don't want to stop, you also don't want to get caught, so you settle for urging him to keep it down. It's after a third softly gasped ‘N-Need to be qu-quiet, Si’ that your warning finally worms its way into his brain, and he acts in a way to appease you, just… not how you expect.

Swiftly, Simon removes his hold of your waist and brings one of his arms forward. He grabs for the center of his t-shirt, tugs the material up, and quickly stuffs the fabric into his mouth.

It only takes a split second for the action to happen, but immediately, you see how effective it is. The moment that standard, army-issued tee is captured between Simon's teeth, there's a drastic reduction of noise in the room.

Now, he can fuck into you with reckless abandon, and he snaps his hips forward with enough force to make your whole body ripple. Even as you pulse and constrict around him (sometimes inadvertently, sometimes not), the sounds that climb their way up Simon's throat are heavily dampened by his cotton gag.

It's as Simon begins the ascent to his peak that the cloth in his mouth really comes into play. As he pumps into you, he starts grunting lowly, gutturally, exhaling through his nostrils in quick, harsh bursts. It's a deep sound, animalistic in nature, like a bull huffing before it digs its heels into the dirt and charges.

His thrusts turn sloppier and sloppier the closer he nears his high, his hips propelled forward only by some basic hindbrain instinct. His lashes start to flutter, his eyes roll towards the back of their sockets, and when he cums, he throws his head back in a full-blown snarl.

Simon's a bit shaky on his feet after he climaxes in you, but he manages to pull out before he stumbles backwards, plopping down heavily into his chair. As you start cleaning yourself up, you see how he makes no attempt to move. He just sits there, completely brainless, pants around his ankles and t-shirt still tucked between his teeth. You have to walk over to him and purposefully tug on the shirt to get him to release it, and once it's freed, you see the damage that's been done.

In the center of Simon's shirt rests a big, blotchy wet spot, like he's tried to do his own slobbery take on the classic Rorschach test. The fabric's been wrinkled to all hell and there's a few imprints left behind from where his teeth had bitten down, and if you were to inspect the hem closely, you'd see where he popped a stitch or two in his ecstasy.

The sight of his mangled shirt has you tutting in disapproval. He can't walk out of his office looking like this, and he certainly can't forgo wearing a shirt altogether. What would the people around base say if they saw their normally put together Lieutenant looking so unkempt? You don't think he'd ever hear the end of it, nor would you for that matter.

In the meantime, as you wait for Simon's brains to un-liquify themselves, maybe you can scrounge up something else for him to wear. There's got to be something lying around here to help make him presentable once again. It's too bad as part of your cover you didn't think to bring an extra set of clothes to change into.

You'll have to remember for next time.

[atrwriting]

terrible company — logan howlett x reader

secret time i never used to like wolverine because i thought i was cool and then i saw deadpool 3 and my jaw dropped and i watched most of the x men movies in like three days and now here we are

side note the tiktok edits went absolutely crazy with this scene

back at school needed to write something to keep me sane enjoy

barely edited we die like overworked students men

minors fuck off plz n thnx

as always, warnings: smut smut smuttt, enemies to lovers, fingering, p in v sex, dirty talk, light face slapping (trust me!), logan's a dick

—

“what, sweetheart? — afraid you might like it?”

you rolled your eyes at the man before you: logan howlett, the most obnoxious and formidable man you had ever met. his eyes twinkled with mischief, but his smirk hinted at so much more. this was the fifth or sixth time or so that he had flirted with you outright since you had first met him, and you had still found yourself being caught off guard from his honesty and lack of embarrassment.

he was an enigma to you — such terrible company, always brooding over something. then, randomly, he would see you and his eyes would get that look — as if he forgot what made him so miserable — and flirt with you so inappropriately that you didn’t know what to do, nor feel.

you sighed, staring at him. “can always count on you for shock value, can’t it?”

he smirked then, and you rolled your eyes. continuing, you spoke, “i’ll never get you. you are so mean to everyone — besides the people you want to fuck, of course.”

you turned away then, shaking your head. you didn’t hear him follow you. you grew angry after that realization, causing another sharp breath of air to leave your nostrils in a huff. you weren’t sure if you were angry at the fact that he didn’t follow you and immediately apologize even though he would never do that, or if you were just angry at how you were upset he didn’t follow you.

you tried not to think about it. you had work to do.

your next mission would be based out in the north somewhere — cold, dark, barely any service or electricity, and horrific weather. all of that would’ve made anyone groan, but none of that was the worst part.

not even close.

the worst part was that logan was your partner.

it made bile rise in your throat at the thought.

you generally didn’t mind him — he was grumpy, sure, but someone like old yeller would be grumpy after how many years he’s been alive and after what he’s been through. what pissed you off and what you couldn’t forgive — is how he treated different groups of people. he picked on a lot of people, and even if it was just “harmless hazing” — you didn’t care. it wasn’t cool and it definitely wasn’t hot. it was hurtful and you didn’t like it. he made fun of your friends, and that was where the hate began — and there was no end in sight.

but the best part? oh — the fucking cherry on top? his endless flirtation. he flirted with you shamelessly as if he wasn’t ruthless with your friends moments prior. did he think you void of loyalty? did he think you would sleep with him after he roasted your friends just because he threw a few sleazy comments your way? how little respect did he have for you? or, worse — how little respect did he think you had for yourself?

made your fucking blood boil.

that no good, rotten, fucking —

“hey, sweetheart —“

when you were within fifteen feet of him, it felt like all you did was roll your fucking eyes and bite back a quip. all you wanted to do was put him in his fucking place, or stay as far away from him as possible. however, with a mission so important — so dire — you couldn’t ask for a reassignment and make the team succumb to immature whims. you put up with logan because neither you, the team, nor the government had more options or time.

“what, logan?” you spat, pursing your lips as you turned around to face him.

fuck, he was so goddamn handsome. his skin was tanned from constantly being outside, looking perfectly aged. his facial hair and hairstyle were out of the ordinary as well, but it only kept your attention on him longer. he was strong — so strong. his muscles could kill in mere seconds, and you realized you hated yourself for thinking this way. for falling into the trap of a man so annoying — so undeserving of your attraction — your only response was to clench your jaw and fucking glare at him.

he raised his eyebrow at your attitude. “others already took the cars and helicopter. looks like we’re takin’ in my chopper.”

he didn’t wait for you to disagree. in fact, as you were winding up your “aaaabsolutely not” he immediately turned around and left towards the front — where his motorcycle was parked outside.

you stared at him as he walked towards the bike — broad shoulders clad in the leather jacket he always wore. his legs, even covered in jeans, were so trim and muscular that you could see the power behind each stride. when he swung one leg over the seat, and two hands gripped the handle bars — you would’ve said he was attractive if it wasn’t for how horrendous he was. you would’ve bit your hand at how broad his shoulders were and the strength behind them. you should’ve torn your gaze away from him — because at that moment, the moment where you were contemplating your attraction towards him and how it worked with your hatred for him — he caught you staring.

he caught you staring — and the fucking bastard smirked.

you cursed then, and then started towards his bike. like he once did, you swung your leg over and wrapped your arms around his midsection.

“hold on tight, sweetheart,” he spoke, the vibrations of his deep voice felt against your chest. “can’t say i’d let anything bad happen to you, though.”

“just drive, logan,” you spat through gritted teeth.

he chuckled darkly then, revving his engine. “yes ma’am.”

with his back to you, unable to see his reaction — it was the one moment, the one fucking time that you didn’t roll your eyes at him. your reaction to his words — yes ma’am — was raw and surprising, unsettling almost. you shifted in your seat and adjusted your grip on him as a warmth settled in your stomach, and on the apples of your cheeks. your breaths turned shallow, too, as your whole body succumbed to the blush that overtook.

no, you thought. you think he’s hot. that’s fine. assholes can be hot — we just can’t act on how hot they are. that’s fine. it’s fine. everything is fine —

but the way he smelled? oh god, the way he fucking smelled? logan was what bath and body works modeled those mahogany or whisky or leather or whatever-the-fuck candles after. part of you wanted to curse him out, making up something to be mad at him for — but the other parts wanted to wrap your arms around him tighter and stick your nose in the back of his neck like a depraved lunatic.

but you couldn’t. you wouldn’t let yourself. you sat up straighter then — trying to put as much space as possible between you and him on a vehicle that was not meant for a rivalry between driver and passenger.

you were disgusted with yourself. so, so disgusted with yourself.

fuck, you thought. this is going to be a long night.

when you reached camp, you immediately began setting up. you set up shelter and got your supplies in order, and logan went out looking for food. that was logan’s one quality that not even you could take away from him — he was an excellent hunter. you tried to busy yourself as best as you could — setting up the tent, starting the fire, the works. the sun would almost be down before logan came back.

when you heard his footsteps, your head immediately flicked up towards him. there he was — dinner thrown over his shoulder, clad in a white tank top, and cigar in his mouth. a cloud of smoke followed behind him as he walked towards where you had set up camp.

“showing off?” you cast your gaze down, putting another log on the fire.

“…is it working?”

you couldn’t help it. you let out a small laugh.

fuck.

you cleared your throat immediately, hoping he didn’t hear it. unfortunately, there was no use in that. fear struck you when you saw the tiniest smirk on his face. you brushed it off, leaving him to go get a sweatshirt as he dressed and cleaned the animal.

“scared of a little blood, sweetheart?”

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his comment. “it’s an animal, logan. not our enemy.”

“…fuckin’ vegans.”

“okay, old yeller —“ you quipped, poking at the fire. “you don’t feel a drop of sadness when you go after bambi?”

“it’s meat,” that was all he said on the subject, and you didn’t feel like poking the bear.

you ate in silence and went to bed in silence. actually — you went to bed. logan stayed out by the fire until you retreated to your tent. you left him with a bottle of jameson on his right, and a cigar in his left hand. his eyes were trained on the fire.

you didn’t like the look on his face. it was either an expression of zoning out, sadness, or a mixture of both — you couldn’t be sure. any time someone had asked logan what was on his mind, it was usually met with some rude or mean insult from logan. old yeller didn’t like feelings, and that worked out well for you — because you didn’t want to hear about his feelings.

you thought he would stay out all night if he could, never sleeping. however, he did end up going to bed — but you only knew that because he woke up screaming from a nightmare.

him yelling was extremely inconvenient and frankly dangerous — it could blow your cover. in your exhausted state, you sprung up and out of your tent and dashed over to where logan was curled on the ground. he was thrashing at the air — knocking over his bottle of whisky and kicking at the fire.

“logan!” you hissed, trying to force yourself out of your discombobulated state. the thrashing continued, and in a moment of desperation — you got on top of him.

straddled him, to be more exact.

in a moment, his eyes snapped open. your back was on the ground and he was above you — one of his claws at your jugular. logan’s instincts woke up before he did as he laid on top of you and over you, breathing heavily as he kept his blade drawn at your neck with his eyes blown wide.

“you were having a nightmare,” you choked out. “you’re okay —“

he was still staring at you and breathing heavily. it was like he was in a trance — unaware of how to navigate the feeling of peace and a fight or flight response. his pupils, blown wide, showed no sign of calming down.

you reached both hands to grasp at his cheeks, feeling the tickle of his beard on your palms. “you’re safe — it’s alright.”

he dropped his head then — on your collarbone. it hung in shame, guilt, and exhaustion. the unholy trinity that followed logan howlett around for his entire life. one of your hands slid to the back of his neck, cupping the base of his head as his thumb stroked his skin.

“i’m sorry,” was all he said, head still in the crook of your neck.

“you’re good — i get them, too.”

“i’m not looking for a pity party, alright?” he snapped, pushing himself up.

that was it. the final straw.

you reached forward them, yanking him by the shirt so you were nose to nose — tongue on fire, throat hoarse with anger and tight with sadness. “you’re such an ass, you know that? all you do is insult my friends, expect me to sleep with you, and then the moment — the one fucking moment — you show any sign of humanity, i extend a fucking olive branch, and you snap at me? — the fuck is your problem, logan?”

he raised his brows then, almost in a beckoning fashion. “you think i need a shoulder to cry on, huh, sweetheart? — that’s the thing with you young people, why your friends annoy me so much — there’s no fucking time to spend whining when there’s a fucking job to do.”

“jealous, logan?” you spat, still gripping his shirt. “can’t stand the fact that i would rather console the people you insult rather than let you fuck me?”

“what you do in your spare time is yours, sweetheart —“ he scoffed. “if you want to spend it with people who don’t respect you, fine by me.”

“don’t respect me?!” you spat. your face was red and hot now, burning with rage. every word that left your mouth was coated in venom hoping to strike him like his words struck you. “you’d fuck me, leave, and then probably treat me with as much disdain as you treat everyone else — how the fuck is that better?!”

oh — you shouldn’t have.

you really, really shouldn’t have.

you felt the regret as soon the word “better” left your mouth — only a moment before you saw something switch in logan’s eyes. the switch was followed by a twitch in his jaw, the movement he makes before he basically uses someone’s spine as a tooth pick. you knew he wouldn’t hurt you — he couldn’t, he wouldn’t — but damn, the realization of how much weight your statement held in his chest concerned you.

you watched his nose crinkle in anger.

he let out a frustrated, slow breath.

another.

and another.

and then another. he was still on top of you then — staring down his nose at you. you were cocky, cocking your chin up at him — trying to feign looking him in the eyes despite your lack of height. you didn’t want to be a sexual object, there for his free use. you didn’t want to be something he could discard, worthless. you didn’t want logan to give you the same treatment he gave your friends — because that would mean you were no longer worth anything to him.

you braced yourself for his words — what you always thought would come, sooner or later. the end of flirting, and the beginning of rejection and hatred.

“that’s it, huh?” he spoke low then, fighting back anger. “the princess thought i’d leave?” his lips were barely touching yours then, threatening the barrier and final boundary of air between you two. your chest was rising and falling with every word, unable to keep your cool. he continued, “maybe i should — since now you sound like your friends — bunch of fucking whiners.”

you slammed at his chest then, trying to push him off for his hurtful words. he didn’t budge — he was the fucking wolverine, what could you do that would get him to actually move?

“the problem is, doll —“ he took both of your hands and pressed them down next to your head. “i know you’re not like them — and i like you too much to leave.”

you scoffed, gritting your teeth. “stop fucking —“

he let go of one of your wrists and grabbed your chin in his strong hand, silencing you. he stared down at you then, and no words had the chance to leave your lips. anger sent daggers from your eyes to his, but something swirled within his irises. something worse than anger — darker. stronger. harder.

“are you going to stop fucking whining and let me kiss you?” he spat. “or are you going to crawl away with your tail between your legs and be forced to use that stashed vibrator you keep in your bag?”

you sucked in a sharp breath then — eyes going wide as your lips fell open in surprise. he smirked then, obviously pleased. your chest was still rising and falling, but now it was with shallow breaths as something else filled your lungs and abdomen.

heat. pure heat. warmth spread throughout your ribs, abdomen, and core once you absorbed logan’s words. he was so mean — so fucking rude and mean — but his “no bullshit” attitude forced you to keep out of your own way in a way you didn’t want to admit you liked. you were still then — and all you could do was stare up at logan with your big, dark eyes as a smirk crept onto his face.

“that’s it, baby,” was all he whispered before he kissed you.

the hand that once held your face slid around the back of your head, holding the base of your skull up and out for him. he planted his spread knees in between your thighs, cementing himself in place as his other arm held himself up.

logan kissed you with demand in every movement. his lips lead you in a fashion that so passionate and so dominant that your brain and body were fucking putty — his to mold in his hands as he deemed fit. you should’ve been disgusted, tormented by the fact that he would do such a thing — but you couldn’t keep up the act any longer. having logan so close, so warm — it was the ultimate act of comfort.

men had kissed you before — but no man from before could kiss you like this. this. no man had the power to claim you in the open, dangerous air while on top of you and still making you feel so safe and protected. you didn’t feel the need to go out of your way to show dominance — and it felt so fucking good to turn your brain off, even for just a moment.

and logan? fuck — logan? he had wanted nothing more for months than to be exactly where he was now; on top of you, tongue exploring the mouth that loved to insult him. he knew how on edge you were, how you were always caring about everyone but yourself — he just wanted to see what you were like when you could only think about one thing, and one thing only: your own pleasure.

it started with his fingers tightening on the back of your neck ever so slightly. your throat let out a quiet sort of mewl — like he had squeezed the last shred of focus out of you. he wanted you out of focus — not necessarily under his control, he just wanted you to lose control. crying, screaming, taking out your anger on him for all he cared — but he just wanted to be the one that made you forget about everything for a little while.

…so when he felt your hands running up and down the length of his upper body, curious as to the muscles of his shoulders — he knew what to do. he couldn’t help himself, should’ve asked —

he lowered his lower body down and ground against your clothed core.

instinctively, your legs tried to wrap around his — trying to bring him closer. you were struggling, it was so cute to him. he thought about how mean it would be to tease you, even if it was for a little bit — but would quick fun honedtly help you? the stick up your ass would probably never leave, he thought — he had to do this right.

and when he did it again — the smallest whine built in the back of your throat, sending vibrations throughout your body and senses. logan’s hyper sensitive hearing sent shivers — actual shivers — up and down his spine, and right to his cock as his strained against his zipper.

he felt you clam up then, tighten — insecure. he could sense it. smell it.

“don’t you dare —“ he breathed, demanding another kiss from you. he would swallow you whole if given the choice. “those whines you make? those sweet, little noises? — they’re mine, doll. mine. you don’t get to take what’s mine, do you?”

“no —“ you whimpered, shakily. “but — i — i thought —“

he let your neck go, much to your dismay, but that empty feeling was replaced by his large, flat palm pressing against your clothes core. you jumped for a moment, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as you peered up at him through your lashes.

“thinkin’ i hate whiners?” he laughed, biting on the skin of your neck as he kept palming you. “not when they sound as pretty as you, doll. ‘m so hard for you — gotta know you want this as much as me.”

you almost let out a struggled gasp then, close to tears. he was so mean. the stress and pain of waiting could be felt all over. he was being so sweet — so generous with his touches — but you wanted more. needed more.

“wan’ it so bad, logan,” you gasped, almost hiccuping. “don’t fuck with me anymore, please — no more games.”

you felt his hand slide your zipper down its track, smirking. “no more games means you’re mine, doll. i don’t fucking share.”

you watched as his large hand — calloused from years of war, labor, and pain — found its way under your pretty, lacy thong. he wanted to rip it off you, free you from the tight clothing — but he needed you now. you needed him now, and he wouldn’t deny you any longer.

you were soaking wet when you felt two fingers slip in between your folds, sending a sharp breath to be sucked in between your lips. logan watched in awe as the flames of the fire caught the glistening wetness on his fingers, illuminating the reflection for both of you to see and witness.

it was obvious to him now — you wanted him so badly, for longer than you had ever let on.

he should’ve been slow, loving, maybe even tender — but that wasn’t him. never was, and never would be. your grip tightened on his as he slipped two fingers inside your pussy, sucking him in desperation.

you immediately tried to bite back a squeal when you felt his fingers finally slide all the way inside you, leaving no space undiscovered. the pads of his fingers were nudging at the roof of your pussy as the meat of his fleshy palm rubbed against your lonely clit — pink, puffy, and pathetic. so desperate. you were biting your lip now, screwing your eyes shut — trying to fight the urge to scream his name.

“oh, i don’t think so, doll,” he grunted. “look at me.”

you tried to look at him. you really did. when you couldn’t manage it, your eyes blurry — you couldn’t believe it: he lightly smacked your jaw.

it should’ve sent you reeling, absolutely fuming — but it only caught your attention. he was glaring down at you, fuming, with a pink hue on his cheeks. “what did i say, huh?”

you couldn’t respond. he had halted his movement, leaving you to buck into his hands.

“those moans are mine,” he spat. “you’re goin’ to be loud, and you’re goin’ to let me know exactly how it feels, alright?”

“okay,” you whimpered. “please just —“

“fucking christ —“ he spat exasperatedly. his movements were rougher now, more than ever — sending you closer and closer to the edge. “your wound so tight, you know that? so fucking concerned and always thinking — you’re goin’ to let go for me, doll, and i’m not taking my eyes off this pussy until it sings for me.”

“fuck, logan —“ you threw your head back, screwing your eyes shut.

“you wanna close your eyes, baby, huh?” he grunted with cockiness in his voice. “too much for you?” his voice was low and guttural, turning you on more and more. “need to see what it’s like when you break for me, baby. — lose it for me, yeah? come on — that’s it — that’s a girl —“

every muscle in your body was tightening with every word. you were straining against him — wanting to pull him close and push him far away at the same exact time. you wanted your orgasm, he wanted your orgasm — and you both fought the other for it. you were grinding your hips up to meet his hand — and he was pushing you back down to the ground so you’d sit-the-fuck-still and take whatever he gave you.

logan hovered over you, knees still planted between your thighs. he still worked at your pussy, still forcing it to consume everything he had to offer. his free hand grabbed at the hair at the top of your head, pulling it back so you were at his complete and total mercy, gasping and whimpering for him — and only him.

“yeah, baby — get lost in it. show daddy how much you needed this.”

you couldn’t take it anymore. you couldn’t. you just couldn’t. the relentless need to stay strong, to keep your cool, always remain calm — gone. all of it — gone. shockwaves went up and down your body, every muscle now taught. your neck stretched back and your back arched up into logan’s chest as your orgasm ran up, down, and through every vein. your throat was dry and cracked — as were any and all coherent words that left your mouth. gasps, cries, whimpers — they all went straight to logan’s cock the minute he smelled the sweet and tangy scent of your juice flowing onto his hands and palm. he wanted to lick you up and down, swallow you whole — but logan wasn’t a patient man, no — never.

and there he was. smirking, above you — not even slightly tired.

he kept up his torture — hand still working at your pussy.

“that’s it, baby — ride out that high,” he grunted in your ear, biting at your shoulder. “nice and easy. come down for me, sweetheart — daddy’s not done with you yet.”

you fell back against the dirt, gasping — wondering where the fuck you were and how logan got you there. everything about you — blurry. your eyesight, your hearing, your sense of smell — all of it: blurry. numb and tingling. you could feel everything and nothing all at once, all while trying to catch your breath.

the only thing you could do, the only thing — was reach for logan’s belt buckle, whining for more.

he smirked down at you then once more, taking his cock our for you to wrap your small, weak hand against its girthy base. you were still reeling from the orgasm, but he didn’t mind.

“greedy girl.” he kissed you, mouth hot and demanding. “pussy feels empty without me, huh? gotta change that.”

he threw one of your legs over his shoulder, your muscles stretching and conforming to his will. you pulled him close to you, whining into his kiss. he swallowed every feverish moan with everything he had, his mind now also buzzing with pleasure.

“bet your pussy feels so warm and wet —“ he breathed. “gonna let me use you, baby? hmm?”

you shook your head feverishly, tears coming to your eyes. “please, logan — please use me.”

that’s all he needed. he slid his long length inside you, and he felt every stretch. your pussy was so sweet — ready to mold to whatever he gave you. he heard your head fall back in pleasure, a loan erupting from your chest — but logan couldn’t care about that right now. all he could focus on was how your pussy opened wide for him, sucking him in like if needed him as much as he needed you. he felt himself grow longer and thicker inside of you, almost painfully.

“jesus fucking christ —“ he hissed, grabbing a fistful of your hair and shoving his face into the crook of your neck. his guttural, deep moans were sent straight through your ear and down every nerve in your body. he grunted, “gonna let me take what i need, baby? let daddy use you?”

“yes, please —“ you cried. “need it so bad.”

he bent your leg back to your chest now, and suddenly the head of his cock was hitting a spot you had never felt before. so deep, so hidden — hot tears sprung to your eyes when he found it. every part of you was sensitive, buzzing for his touch — and all you could think about how there was more and more to give to him, only his to take.

“right there —!” you sobbed.

“that’s your spot, huh?” he spat through gritted teeth. “no boy has found that, i can tell. i can fucking smell it. you want me to pound into you there, baby? gonna let a real man show you how he fucks his girl?”

you were sobbing at this point, pulling him closer and closer into you if there was any space. you couldn’t respond. you didn’t have the strength or the brain to do so. all you could do was bite down on logan’s shoulder as he fucked into that spot — that one fucking spot — as he let out animalistic groans in your ear.

“all mine.”

“my fucking pussy —“

“good fucking girl —“

“gonna cream in this pussy until you can’t take it.”

your second orgasm ripped through you then as tears leaked from your eyes. your teeth broke logan’s skin, blood flooding your mouth as he moaned. the pain coursed through him with the pleasure, mixing within his veins until everything else and around him was forgotten. the only thing that mattered was the greedy pussy sucking him in, and the sweet girl beneath him.

logan was a fucking animal with how he chased your high. he ripped and clawed at the dirt as he drank in your second orgasm, feeling you go limp beneath him. the adrenaline coursing through his veins had a mind of its own — he wrapped your arms around his neck as he took your hips in both of his hands. he held you both upright then — smashing your hips down to meet his as you hung on for dear life. deep, broken grunts were pushed through his gritted teeth as he fought tooth and nail for his orgasm. he dove head first into it, letting you both fall to the ground.

you felt logan’s body shake — fucking shake. you had never known him to succumb to something so peaceful and powerful — so demanding of him. his muscles strained against the control like they were chains and he needed to break free. he groaned into the crook of your neck and tresses of your hair as he fucked himself into your puffy pussy, your cries mixing with his groans. logan’s thrust were desperate as he fucked his cream inside you, part of it coming out and leaking onto his cock as it mixed with your juice. the sight of it ripped through him as the want to claim you again and again took him too. he found your lips once more, both of you gasping into a kiss as you both settled back into the dirt.

it was going to be a long, long night...

[nastyaromatherapy]

Brother's best friend (18+)

You see Nate, who you're not so fond of, at your house hanging out with your brother.

do i have many Ethan requests currently? yes. but am i currently salivating, thirsting, and barking for nate? yes.

pairing - bbf!nate jacobs x fem!reader

one shot length, 1.4k+ word fic

warnings: PIV, nate's kind of the worst obvi, nate says the r-slur, nate's like graduated highschool by now, uhh idfk creampie ig

The stench wafting out of your brother's room was disgusting, the fumes infiltrated your nostrils when you walked through the hall to get your laundry. You tried to ignore him and his friends over their yelling which was damn near impossible, who knows what the fuck they did in there. All you knew is that it was stinky, sweaty, and weirdly horny.

You shuffled your way into the laundry room and started loading the machine. Somehow the smell of your dirty clothes was more tolerable than his room. Suddenly the noises from the musty dump got louder, signifying that the door had opened. You paid no mind, not wanting to see him or Daniel, or whoever else was lurking in that place.

You had just about finished loading the washer until you heard a voice. "Forgot something?" You turned around and looked up to see Nate with a pink thong dangling from his fingers. "Thanks," you said with annoyance. You yanked it from his fingers to throw it in the drum.

Nate was hot, a grade above you, but you still disliked him with rationality. In your junior year he catfished you, leading you to embarrass yourself in front of the person that you thought you were texting, and then you became a joke amongst his friend group.

He stood behind you as you threw in tide pods and started the machine. You turned around and he was still there. "That the same pair you wore in that one pic?" You rolled your eyes, "Which one?" He chuckled to himself. "The fact you have to ask 'which one' is laughable." You scoffed and stormed out of the room, brushing past him.

"When will you stop being mad at me?" He called out, making you turn around. "It's been a year, c'mon everyone's forgotten." He spoke. "Not you apparently! Maybe if you stopped being a total dick, we'd be neutral like how I am with the rest of my brother's friends." You huffed and walked to your room with him following behind. "Okay, okay y/n, I'm sorry." He said as he leaned against your doorframe.

"Whatever Nate, why do you want my forgiveness so bad anyways? Just go back and hang out with my brother." You said while straightening random trinkets on your dresser. "Because, y'know, I want to be neutral with you. Besides, I'd be lying if I said I haven't jacked off at least once to those photos-" "Oh my god Nate, ew! Just get your perverted ass out of my fucking room!" You yelled, attempting to push his tall frame out to no avail.

He looked down at you, finding the power difference endearing. "It's not my fault you're perfect," he purred, making you soil your your panties. You always loved when he complimented you. You swallowed as you looked up at him. "My brother's gonna wonder where you are so, you should y'know, before he comes looking for you." He shakes his head. "Your brother's retarded, he's not gonna wonder shit." He said as his hands reached to shut your door.

"Nate," you whispered before he leaned down to kiss you. You internally gasped as your hands found their way to his cheeks, and his traveled to grope your ass through the oversized tee you drowned in. The groans he let escape into your mouth was enough to make you completely drench your panties, your other hand reaching for his shirtless chest. The two of you traveled to your bed, not breaking the kiss, only casually coming up for air.

You were positioned at the bottom, head resting on your pillow with him above you. He slipped his tongue into your mouth just as he slipped his hand underneath your shirt, fingers making their way to your heavy clit. You whimpered and jolted at the connection, inching your legs wider for him. He rubbed circles around your bulging clit through the panties whilst his tongue journeyed through your mouth.

"Nate, please," you whimpered into his mouth. He pulled away leaving your mouth agape as he lifted your tee over your head. "Fuck," he whispered to himself. You sat up to kiss him as he grasped your tits, kneading them and squeezing on your nipples. You moaned into his mouth from the friction as you reached down to his crotch. He groaned when he felt your hand on his erection. You broke the kiss to unbutton his pants, pulling them down as you licked your lips. You eyed his length through his Calvin Kleins and massaged him through the fabric.

He moaned from your touch, biting his lip as he looked down at your hand. You reached your hand in to stretch the waistband and pull his cock out. His chest rose and fell as you leaned down to lick his shaft before swallowing him. He bit back a whimper as you took him deep into your mouth. Your soft plush lips wrapped around his shaft like a ring that slid up and down his girthy length. Your doe eyes met his dark ones as your cheeks hollowed, making you moan around his cock.

"Fuck, I always knew you were a slut from those photos," He said between grunts. Your eyebrows furrowed as you breathed heavily through your nose, stomach churning from how aroused you were. Vibrations were sent up his cock from your moans, making him twitch in your mouth. "Shit you're gonna make me cum," he whispered before painting your mouth white. You slid off of him, letting the cum canopy over the rest of his length, making a mess on your bed.

After catching his breath, he fisted your hair in his hands to pull you up to him to interlock lips. He grimaced at the taste of his bitter cum on your lips as his tongue grazed yours, his hands again toying with your perky nipples. "Why'd b/n have to have such a hot sister," he whispered, making your hole flutter. "Maybe so you'd have something fun to do in his godforsaken tomb." You smirked against his lips before he laid you down back onto your mattress.

He spread your legs, eyeing that darkened, damp patch on your panties. You closed your eyes, slightly embarrassed by your physical arousal. He pulled them down, a string of natural lubricant following behind. You stretched your legs in the air and opened them wider, letting him view your glistening pussy.

He tapped his tip atop your sticky folds, his cock already covered in cum. You whimpered at the contact, and he smiled a smug smirk at your reaction. "Yeah, you want it?" He whispered condescendingly. "Yes Nate, please! I need you so bad," you begged. He lined his cock up with your gaping entrance before plunging in. You moaned out as your pussy stretched to accommodate his length. You moaned out with every thrust of his hips, not doing your best at keeping quiet.

He chuckled at himself whenever you cried out when he went deep, his tip grazing your sensitive cervix. "Such a slut taking one of your brother's friend's cocks, yeah?" He groaned as he pistoned himself in and out of your pussy. Your hole was sloppy and wet, and a ring of his previous cum formed around his base. "Please don't stop Nate, it feels s'good," you slurred out.

He slapped your tits making you yelp and leaned down to suck on your lips. You moaned into his mouth as his cock fucked your pussy animalistically. "'Pussy's so fucking good," he groaned against your lips. "You gonna touch yourself whenever I'm on my way to hang out with your brother? Gonna pull me away so I can fill you up with my cum like the good slut you are?" He asked. "Mhm, yes Nate, I'm gonna need your cock everyday," you moaned, clenching around his length. "Good fucking girl," he groaned.

Your stomach twisted and you found yourself throbbing around his length, close to cumming. "Nate, I'm s'close," you whimpered out. "Fuck, cum for me baby," he grunted through his teeth, making you unravel all around his cock, your cum dripping like warm honey on his length. With one final thrust he came too, shooting his load into your tight cunt. He pulled out and watched the mix of cum spill out of you, leaving a puddle on the sheets, and your hole that was left gaping.

***

The two of you put your clothes back on and he walked out of your room. Your brother notices him from the hallway and finally wonders where he's been. "Nate, dude, where the hell were you?" He just smugly shrugged. "Bathroom, jacking off to your sister," he starts, looking back at you. "She's fucking hot." You scoffed, "Gross," before closing your door.

[joelscruff]

truth or dare (joel miller x f!reader) 18+

notification blog | kofi | in honor of my bestie han @swiftispunk who recently celebrated her birthday (and in honor of spooky season starting 🎃) i thought i'd step outside the boundaries of what i usually write and try something new. i'd also like to give a huge shoutout to @toxicanonymity whose entire masterlist greatly influenced my desire to try something like this. please heed the warnings!!! and as i said this is my first time writing anything like this so pls be kind 🫠

summary: a harmless game of truth or dare ends with you tied up in a certain mysterious neighbor's garage. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: dubcon (reader is given a choice to leave, but not immediately), dark!joel, age gap (reader is college age, joel is in his fifties), unprotected p in v sex, use of restraints, ropes, spanking, degradation, sir kink, dirty talk (use of 'little girl' as a pet name), face fucking, rough sex, creampie, brief anal play, humiliation, inappropriate use of a household item (he puts a flashlight up her cooch), marking (with a sharpie), size kink (joel is much bigger than reader and can lift her), pls lemme know if i forgot anything word count: 8.3k

Your palms are sweaty, fingers sticking to your skin as you stand at the edge of the property with goosebumps already blooming along your flesh. The air is chilly, that end of summer evening air flooding your nostrils as a car drives past through streams of leftover rainwater, headlights blurring your vision for a moment. It passes quickly and you're alone again, standing on the street corner with a mixture of anticipation and dread filling your trembling body.

Everything had been fine about twenty minutes ago. A typical party with your hometown friends, one last hurrah before everyone splits off for the third year in a row to go back to their respective colleges, back to long lectures and underwhelming frat boys. It had gone the same way it always does when you get together - shots, secrets, schemes. No end of summer party could ever be complete without a game of truth or dare, not for your crowd anyway.

It had started simple. "Which one of us had the best glow-up this year?" "I dare you to text the last guy you slept with." "What's the kinkiest thing you've done with somebody?" "I dare you to show us the last nude someone sent you." Typical borderline adolescent challenges, things you all still followed through with despite being too old for the game - it's the principle of it, to indulge and pretend, if only for a little while, that life is as simple as it once was.

"Who's the last person you had a sex dream about?"

You'd twisted your hands awkwardly in your lap, felt heat rush to the apples of your cheeks. Usually a question like this wouldn't make you hesitate, but the subject of the answer had been a slightly embarrassing one. As soon as the name Joel Miller had fallen from your lips, you'd been met with screams and squeals and excited chatter from every direction.

"He's so fucking creepy though," one of your friends had said with wide eyes, palm over her mouth, "He gives off serial killer vibes."

"Oh please, he's not that bad," another had chimed in, "He's just a loner, kinda mysterious. I see the vision."

"Are we forgetting the part where he's old as hell? Dude must be in his fifties, at least."

"But that means experience."

"It could also mean limp dick."

"You guys are disgusting," you'd moaned, leaning back on your hands, "It was one dream, let's move on."

And they had. Briefly. Until it was once again your turn and they'd all rounded on you with cheshire cat grins and glinting stares. You should have known what was coming when you chose Dare.

"I dare you to go over to his house."

You'd resisted, of course. The dare itself didn't even make much sense; what were you meant to do? Go over and ding-dong-ditch his front door like a twelve year old boy? But it had only snowballed from there, all five girls tossing in their own thoughts and ideas, talking and giggling over each other. "She should ask him on a date." "She should just flirt a little bit, see how he reacts." "She could see how far she can get with him, maybe?" "Oh shit, that's good."

You could have always said no - there was no way any of them could force you to do it, even if it would have ended the party abruptly with grumbled complaints and a slammed door. But the more they talked the more you found yourself listening, letting the concept sink in, the images of the dream you'd had the other night flooding to the front of your mind. Mysterious and elusive Joel Miller, big hands covered in the motor oil he uses to tinker with his truck, trailing his messy fingers between the swells of your breasts...

They'd managed to convince you just by the reminder alone, though also due to the fact that they'd each tossed in a twenty dollar bill and stated that simply getting a kiss on the cheek would warrant a win. The prospect was intriguing; it would be a testament to your own desirability, your game. How far can you get with your quiet neighbor who probably hasn't touched a woman in years? Who'll probably fold the second he realizes someone as young and beautiful as you is interested in him?

"I'll do it," you'd said with a smirk, rising from the hardwood, "How hard can it be?"

Harder than you thought, apparently. Because now you stand a few feet from Joel Miller's house, loitering soundlessly at the edge of his front lawn, hesitating. The sun has gone down, turning the hedges along the side of his property into frighteningly tall shadows, dark and menacing. A light breeze flows past and you wrap yourself tighter in your well-worn maroon cardigan, shivering, staring at your boots and wondering if you can really bring yourself to do this.

It'll be so humiliating if he rejects your advances. On the other hand, will it somehow be less-so if he returns your flirtatiousness and you then have to reject him once you've gotten what you came for? How will that make you look? You're not even really sure why you care - probably because the man has done nothing to you whatsoever, nothing that would warrant such a foolish prank as this being played on him. It makes you feel bad, in a way. As much as you and your friends make fun of him, he really is just a man who keeps to himself - perhaps this is going too far.

You notice light flickering nearby, a reflection of fluorescents in the puddles of his driveway. You figured he'd be in his garage - it's where he spends most of his time, bent over the exposed hood of the truck he's seemingly been working on ever since he moved in at the beginning of the summer. You've never seen him drive it, never even seen him leave the property, but you've passed by the house on more than one occasion. You've seen the way he rolls up the sleeves of his flannel, forearms splattered black and grey, expression focused on the task at hand while sweat drips from his greying temples.

Having a sex dream about him really shouldn't have been that shocking, now that you think about it. The man is a mystery, sure, but he isn't ugly by any means.

You swallow down your qualms, picturing the faces of your friends more than likely smooshed against the living room window a few houses back, watching. As soon as you turn the corner, you'll disappear from view, obstructed by the hedges and the sudden darkness of night. You take one more deep breath, one last burst of chilly evening air into your lungs, and accept your fate.

--

He doesn't notice you walking up his driveway, taking slow and meager steps as you assess the open garage, the truck with its hood popped as usual, the flickering of the florescent lights hanging from the ceiling. He doesn't notice you, but you notice him. You spot a pair of steel toed boots and long denim clad legs sticking out from underneath the truck, hear the clink and clang of metal against metal while he tinkers with something down there, unseen. As you reach the garage it becomes apparent that you still have one last chance to end this before it begins, turn around and take the loss.

But you don't.

"Excuse me," you offer in a weak voice, teetering nervously at the edge of the garage door, neither inside nor out - neutral ground.

The clinking stops, replaced by the steady pounding of your heart in your chest, the heaviness of your breathing. You try to loosen your hands from their fisted forms and unclench your fingers, focusing on the stretch of flesh and bone while the legs beneath the car slowly begin to inch forward. He's not laying on any type of support, one of those wheeled contraptions you've seen other people use - no, he's simply got his back to the ground, a back and body that's slowly coming into view.

His black and green flannel rides up where he's been laying on it, as well as the grey t-shirt he wears beneath; as he slides out from under the car you spot a bare sliver of skin just above his waistband, a patch of hair that trails down into his jeans. A lump forms in your throat. When he finally peeks his head out, you swallow around it and try to remember to breathe.

Greying hair slicked back behind his ears, cheekbones smeared slightly with something black, scruff lining a strong yet soft jawline, a plump bottom lip, and those eyes... dark brown, almost black. It's the face that's practically been haunting you all summer, whether you want to admit it to yourself or not.

His brow furrows as soon as he sees you, "Can I help you?"

It's not the first time you've heard him talk, but it's certainly the first time he's ever spoken directly to you. His accent is stronger than you remember, words slipping smoothly past his lips like butter as he eyes you from the floor of his garage, knees up, hands still hidden in the darkness. A few seconds pass before you realize he's asked you a question.

"Oh, um-" You haven't thought this through very far, that's for sure. What the fuck do you even say? You take a breath and remind yourself that you're good at this, have seduced your fair share of frat boys in the past two years with minimal effort and have never heard the word no. Sure, Joel Miller isn't a frat boy - far from it - but underneath his cold exterior he's still very much a man, and very much capable of falling under the spell of a beautiful woman. You hope, anyway.

"I was just taking a walk," you lie, "Saw your light on, thought I'd come say hi."

He stares at you blankly, like he's unsure exactly how he's supposed to respond - or perhaps he's already seeing through your façade. You take a step into his garage, poised at the edge as you lean casually against the opening.

"Honestly, um-" you push some hair behind your ear and attempt to look shy, though it's not a huge jump from how you're actually feeling, "I've been meaning to talk to you, before I go back to college."

At your words he raises an eyebrow and slowly brings his hands downwards, palms pressing flat against the dark concrete. You watch as he eases himself up and out from under the truck, and god he's tall - tall and broad and huge compared to you, a fact that sends a little flutter into your belly. He takes a step toward the work bench against the wall, eyes still on you as he reaches down and picks up a rag to wipe his hands, big and wide and streaked with oil. You remember your dream and feel a twinge in your underwear.

"Talk to me about what?" he asks, massaging the rag against his fingers.

You shrug as nonchalantly as you can, taking another step inside his garage, closer to where he stands at the work bench. You cross your legs in an attempt to show them off, stretching your ankle toward a spare tire on the floor and accentuating the sheerness of your black tights, the little run that splits the material at the inside of your knee, the hint of bare skin that peeks out beneath.

"Nothing in particular," you say, keeping your voice soft and steady but doing your best to keep that shy girlishness present, "Just... wanted to." You peer up at him from under your lashes and bite your lip, then reach out your hand for him to take. You say your name.

He assesses your hand but doesn't take it, brow still furrowed. "Joel," he replies, "And I'm a bit preoccupied at the moment. Don't really have time to talk." His voice is cold and gruff, absolutely no sign of interest or attraction - dammit.

"What're you doing?" you ask, tilting your head.

He continues to stare at you blankly, "What does it look like I'm doin'?"

Okaaaay, then.

You shrug again and take another step, turning to look at the wall next to you. Tools line the shelves, wrenches and screwdrivers and the like dangling rather precariously here and there, smeared in motor oil and dust. It's a mess but you'd be willing to bet that it's organized chaos, that he likes it this way.

"What's this?" you ask, pointing to a particularly large object, something that looks like a mixture between a pair of scissors and a wrench.

"Bolt cutters," he supplies you monotonously.

"Ohh," you say with a nod, leaning a bit into the confused pretty girl stereotype and hoping maybe he's a sucker for it, "And what's that?" You point toward a small cylindrical object, black and tactical, only a few inches long.

"You never seen a flashlight before?"

Oh. Right. "Woops," you giggle, "Sorry."

You turn your face to look at him sheepishly and he's still watching you, big arms now crossed against his broad chest - impatient. Well, this is clearly not working either. He's frowning, eyes so focused on your face that you feel almost naked beneath it, like he's staring into your soul. You clear your throat awkwardly and tug your bottom lip between your teeth, breaking your own gaze away from him and trying to find something else to comment on.

"So you've been working on your truck," you state, gesturing toward the vehicle as if only just noticing it was even there, "What's - uh - what's wrong with it?"

He's clearly not buying into whatever the fuck you're even trying to sell. He remains silent, eyes still on you, and suddenly it's like you've never even interacted with a man before - and to be honest, maybe you haven't. Frat boys are certainly not men by any means, and nowhere near in the same league as Joel Miller by a long shot, probably almost triple their age with a dark and mysterious aura that feels almost suffocating. He just stares at you, slightly unnerving, but also seductive in its own way, almost like he's challenging you.

"What do you want?" he asks blankly.

"I-I told you," your voice is already faltering, losing its flirtatious edge the more you realize how dumb of an idea this was, "I just wanted to talk to you."

"Yeah, I got that," he says stiffly, "Why?"

You've already exhausted the avenues you thought might work, which means you've got one last chance before he sends you packing. With bated breath you take the final few steps toward him and - averting your gaze - you reach your hand out to touch his forearm with your fingertips. It's feather light, but you're suddenly very aware of the goosebumps that rise on his freckled flesh, the way the thick hair on his arms seems to stand on end the second your skin touches his. Okay, now we're getting somewhere.

"I think you're handsome," you murmur softly, feeling warmth rush to your cheeks when you realize that it's not a lie. And it really isn't. As your gaze gradually tilts up you catch a glimpse of the hair on his chest, peeking out from under his grey t-shirt. You spot his pecs beneath the fabric of his flannel, see the throbbing veins in his neck, the coarseness of his scruff, the sharp curve of his nose, and those fucking eyes - looking at you with a darkness, a lust, that wasn't there before.

He's not just handsome; he's fucking gorgeous.

"What're you doin'?" he asks you, that gruffness still present but being taken over by something else, something darker.

"Nothing," you breathe, still trailing your fingers along his forearm until they reach its apex and dip into the soft part behind his elbow, damp with sweat. You swallow, throat going dry as you stroke his skin with your thumb.

"Doesn't feel like nothin'," his voice is quieter, matching yours, and he tilts his head slightly as he continues to stare into your eyes, "Why're you really here, sweetheart?"

Sweetheart. The word sends a burst of warmth to your chest, a smile to your lips. You unlock your eyes from his bashfully, watching your own movements as you trail your fingers back down toward his hand and wrap them around one of his fingers, so thick compared to your own. You squeeze gently, biting your lip again as you peer back up at him. Here it is. Moment of truth. You tilt your head up slightly, eyelashes fluttering as you lean forward to connect your lips with his.

Except, they don't connect.

Instead he pulls his hands away from you, brings them upwards and wraps them around your upper arms, squeezing tightly. Your eyes widen, confusion flooding your features.

"Turn around and bend over."

"W-what?" Shock doesn't even begin to describe the ice cold feeling that now makes its way through your body, edged with something else - something you can't explain.

"Turn around," he repeats, his big hands squeezing your arms even tighter - relentless, firm - as he peers down at you with a dark hunger in his eyes, glinting black beneath the fluorescents, "And bend over."

He does not give you another chance to obey - you're too frozen in surprise and confusion to do anything yourself. Instead, he uses the force of his weight on your arms to spin you on the spot, shoving you against the work bench. You feel one of his hands move from your arm to your back, pushing hard until you fold, warm cheek coming to rest against the cold wood.

"Wh-what are you doing?" your voice is meager, weak, and you feel him wrap one of his hands around both your wrists like it's nothing, pinning them against your back like they're simply twigs in his wide palm.

"What you're clearly fuckin' beggin' for," he replies gruffly, and you feel his other hand at your skirt, feel the brush of his fingertips at the hem as he reaches upward to grip the band of your tights. Your eyes widen and instinctively you pull back, pull away - he just pushes you back down.

"I'm not-" you begin, shock quickly being replaced with fear when you realize how easily overpowered you are, how fluidly he's able to tug down your tights and expose your ass to him, clad in only a black thong already lost between your cheeks.

"Oh, you're not, huh?" his voice is cold and stoic, angry, "You think you can play games with me, little girl?" His hand comes to rest against the swell of your behind and you suddenly feel his breath above you, hot in your ear, "Tell me why you're really here."

You try to lift your head up to look at him better but he just shoves you back down again. Panic floods your body, mixed with the unmistakable burn of arousal. You feel yourself twitch in your underwear, feel a sudden gush of warmth spill inside the fabric as he begins to trail his finger up and down the thin line of black cotton.

"I-I'm..." You're at a complete loss for words, unable to articulate anything, unsure of what exactly is happening - or about to happen. Two minutes ago you'd been sure he was about to tell you to leave, practically kick you out of the garage himself, and now you're not sure leaving is even a possibility.

He pulls his hand back and you cry out when it comes down to slap against one of your cheeks, a sharp sting and burn you hadn't been anticipating.

"Tell me why you're here," he repeats - authoritarian, firm.

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out except a frightened squeak, something which clearly eggs him on even more. He spanks you again, harder this time, palm flat and wide against your pebbled flesh. The sound that slips past your lips is somehow akin to a moan of some sort, guttural and deep.

"I'll just make it harder and harder, sweetheart," he says then, and the pet name no longer contains the warmth it did mere moments ago; instead it's cold and detached, mocking. You're still reeling when his hand comes down to slap against you again, even harder this time, and your hands ball into fists behind your back as you let out another low moan. More slick gushes into your panties and it's impossible to deny that somehow, despite the fear twinging in your heart, you're so fucking turned on.

"M-my friends," you gasp out, and you feel him squeeze your abused ass cheek which you're sure is already dark with his handprint, "They- they dared me to see how far I c-could get with you."

He lets your words sink in for a moment, squeezing again - tighter, so tight that it hurts. You whimper against the wooden top of the work bench, legs shaking.

"So you came here to get fucked," he finally states.

"N-no, I swear, I-"

"Wasn't a question," he interrupts, and you feel his other hand tighten around your wrists, "You came here to get fucked so you're gonna get fucked, end of story."

"But I-"

Without any warning he suddenly pushes himself up against you from behind, the rough denim of his jeans pressing deliciously up against your exposed skin. You gasp, eyes going wide when you feel the long, thick shape of his dick between your cheeks, huge and hard. He holds it there, his free hand coming down to lay flat beside your head against the work bench.

"You feel that?" he asks, voice suddenly quieter but still full of that ice cold malice, "You feel that cock?"

Fuck. "Y-yes," you breathe, "I feel it."

"You have five seconds before i close this door and stuff you full, understand?" Suddenly all you can hear is the heavy sound of his breathing, the panting of your own, the thud of your heart where it presses painfully against the wood. He's giving you an out.

"I- I-" you swallow, brows furrowing when you feel his hand slacken around your wrists. You could pull away now, yank yourself out of his grasp and sprint down his driveway, return to your friends. Forget this ever even happened.

It's your last chance.

"Five," he begins, breath warm against your face.

Run. Just run.

"Four."

But why?

"Three."

Why don't you want to run?

"Two."

Why do you want to stay?

"One."

He pulls his hand up from the work bench and hits a button on the wall, eliciting a loud mechanical noise to your left as the garage door starts to close. You watch with wide eyes as your chance to leave slowly vanishes inch by inch until it's gone completely, and yet no part of you itches to run, to escape. There's nothing to escape from, you realize. You want to be here. You want him to fuck you.

As the reality of your situation starts to settle, his grip around your wrists tightens once again. You sense him reaching up somewhere above you, and you suddenly feel the harsh texture of what feels like thickly braided rope wrapping around your wrists. The realization that he's restraining you sends another pool of release into your panties, another faint squeak past your lips.

"You gonna stay still for me?" he asks, voice dark and clearer now in the silence of his garage, no sounds of rain or cars to disrupt you, "Huh? You gonna be a good girl?"

"Yes," you breathe, nodding against the wood.

"Say it."

"I'm gonna stay still," you promise, "I'm gonna be a good girl."

He finishes knotting the rope around your wrists, tight and uncomfortable against your skin. He pushes his groin up against your ass again, brings his now free hands downward to reach through your cardigan and squeeze your breasts. Your nipples are hard beneath the soft cotton of your shirt, no bra between the layer of material and your bare skin; he tweaks them in his fingers and you shudder.

"These are mine," he whispers in your ear, scruff nuzzling against the side of your face, "These tits, this ass," he drops his hands from your breasts to squeeze your cheeks again, "and this pussy." His hand drops to the puffy shape of your lips beneath your thong and you whimper. "Understand?"

"Y-yes."

"Yes, what?"

You're not sure what he's asking for, what he wants you to say. You take a guess. "Yes, sir," you whisper, and you feel him smile against your ear. Bingo.

He doesn't bother to pull your tights down the rest of the way; instead, he rips them, pulling them apart in his big hands and reaching inside to curl his index finger around the thin strip of your thong. He pulls it - hard - and it rips from you with a rough tearing sound and a painful sting, eliciting a loud gasp from you which he rewards with another spank.

You feel his finger slip between your lips for a moment, gathering some of your release before he pulls it away. "Juicy fuckin' pussy," he mutters, and you hear the sound of his zipper coming undone, vulgar in the quiet room. You have no time to ask about protection, no time to even really process how quickly this is already happening, before you feel the warm tip of his cock pushing against your twitching hole. You gasp again, hands furling under the ropes.

"Shh," he quiets you, stilling for a second, "Don't squirm."

"Sorry," you whisper, tears pricking in your eyes, "I'm sorry."

"What're you sorry for?" he murmurs, feeding his cock to you in small increments, reveling in the noises falling past your lips. It's so fucking big, bigger than you'd anticipated - it feels like he's spearing you, splitting you in half, especially without much preparation. It stretches and burns, but the warmth of it, the way it pulses as it invades your body, just makes you gush even more. "Hm?" he continues, "What're you sorry for? You sorry for squirmin' or sorry you pissed me off?"

Your eyes roll back as he bottoms out, his pubic hair pressing coarsely against your pussy lips, heavy balls firm to your ass. You try to speak but it's hard to get the words out when you're so full, the wide tip of him pushing into your cervix.

"You a virgin?" he asks you then, voice changing for a moment, like for the briefest of seconds he's wondering whether he should have gone slower.

You shake your head quickly, "N-no," you manage to gasp out.

"Feel like a fuckin' virgin," he grunts, pulling out and then immediately slamming back inside. Your head bumps against the work bench, a groan falling from your mouth as he makes a home inside you. "Christ," he mutters, "Tight little thing. You feel me in your stomach, baby?"

You're not sure he wants you to answer, but it becomes clear when his hand slaps down on your ass cheek again and you cry out.

"Yes," you moan, then quickly amend, "Yes, sir."

"S'what happens when you come in here, actin' like a little slut," he suddenly reaches for your cardigan and yanks it off - it catches on your restrained hands and he simply rips it and tosses it to the floor, "But then again, you're not actin', are you? Huh? What's a slut like you doin' wearin' all these fuckin' layers?"

"I'm s-sorry," you repeat, already mourning the loss of your favorite sweater, now ripped to shreds at your feet.

"Sorry's not good enough, little girl," he breathes, thrusting into you again so hard that you yelp, cheek still pressed into the splintered wood of the work bench, "That's it, fuckin' take it."

He fucks you without any reservations, any inhibitions. Your legs shake and you can hear the slap of his hairy thighs against yours as he pounds into you relentlessly. You have no choice but to take it, the stretch of his huge cock becoming less painful the more he gives it to you over and over, the room full of the wet squelch of your pussy gripping him. He grabs your hips, fingertips digging into your bare flesh as he takes and takes; you wish you could see his face, wish you could see how he looks when he's fucking you, getting his pleasure. The thought makes you whine, tears streaming down your face as your body moves back and forth against the work bench.

It feels fucking amazing. You've never had a cock as big as his before, never been fucked so deep and so hard, like he doesn't care if he breaks you, makes you cry. He hasn't touched your clit and yet you already feel you could come from just this, just the relentless push and pull of his dick inside you. Unfortunately, just as soon as you feel your orgasm starting to build, he pulls out. Your brow furrows.

"Stand up," he orders, "and turn around."

You obey, relief overtaking you as soon as you're no longer bent at such an awkward angle. The moment you turn to face him you barely get a look at his face before he's reaching down and tearing your shirt in half - easily, like it's nothing. You don't even have time to wonder how the hell you're gonna get home with all your clothes ripped to shreds when his mouth is suddenly wrapped around your left nipple, and you whine at the sensation. You peer down at him, biting your lip and watching his wet lips suckle around the hard bud, beard scratching deliciously against your skin. Your hand aches to cup the back of his head but it's still pinned behind your back, tied tight beneath the rope.

"Fuck," you whimper, and his dark gaze flashes up to meet yours as he sucks, the hint of a smirk on his lips when he pulls away.

"Feels good, does it?" he asks, and seeing the words come out of his mouth is somehow more sinful than when you could only hear them, "You like bein' used?"

You nod almost immediately despite never having experienced anything like this in your life - though admittedly you've undeniably wanted to experience this, ached to have somebody take control, tell you what to do, make you do things. It's like you've somehow known subconsciously all summer that Joel Miller could be that person for you, despite never having said two words to him. It was just a feeling, an instinct, and that dream...

"Yeah?" he continues, and suddenly his hand comes up to cup your pussy, thumb finally pressing against your clit. You cry out, tears still trickling down your cheeks. "Said you were in college, right? You take any college dick up here? Be honest now."

You nod again, "Y-yes."

"How many?"

"I... I don't know," you breathe. It's the truth, and you can tell as soon as the words leave your mouth that it does something to him. He presses his thumb harder against your clit, two fingers slipping up inside of you.

"'Course you don't know," he murmurs, pushing them as deep inside as he can, making you whimper, "You wouldn't know, would you?"

Your thighs tighten together - squeezing his hand - and he just smirks again, curving his fingers and making you moan. Your lower back digs into the work bench as he stands, pushes you up against it and peers down into your eyes again with a hunger that's only getting worse. You assess his expression, the pout of his lips as he fucks you with his fingers, the focused lines creased into his forehead. So fucking handsome.

"You're not a good girl," he breathes, nose brushing yours, "Knew it from the day I saw you. You're just made for takin' cock. Am I right?"

"Yes," you whisper, nodding shakily and bumping your lips up toward his - he pulls away again and you can't help but feel disappointed, aching to feel his lips against yours.

"Tonight you're made to take my cock, that clear?" he continues, and you watch as his other hand travels downward to wrap around it - just out of your periphery. He's too close to you, crowded so much in your space that you know he won't like it if you break eye contact. You can tell by his arm movements that he's pumping himself at the same speed he's fucking you with his fingers, inhaling deeply, "I'm gonna ruin you, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not."

"Y-yes sir," you whisper, voice squeaking when he speeds up his fingers and pumps them in and out with fervor, thumb rubbing furiously against your clit. Yet again he brings you almost to the edge and then removes his hand completely, stepping back with a low chuckle when you whimper pathetically.

Your disappointment only lasts a moment because now you can see him, see the girthy length of him that's already been inside of you hanging out of his zipper, glistening with your slick. He's huge, tip dark and intrusive, beads of his own arousal dripping from the slit; your mouth waters. His eyes cast down to where you're looking and he smiles, dark and mocking.

"Never gonna see another dick like this, darlin'," he breathes, "So you better start showin' your appreciation." His eyes glint. "Kneel."

You're practically already on your way to kneeling before he says it, in awe of the sheer girth and shape of him. The second your bare knees hit the cold floor he's crowding you again, hand coming around to hold the back of your head.

"Open wide, baby," he murmurs.

Your jaw drops and he plunges inside your mouth quickly and seamlessly, making you gasp around his length as your eyes widen. You can't breathe, looking up at him with more tears already fogging your vision as he immediately slips into the depths of your throat with no hesitation. You gag, eyes bulging as you attempt to swallow around the intrusion, find your breath, but it's impossible.

"Yeah," he breathes, both of his hands cradling your face and holding you still as he lets his cock sit unmoving in your throat, "Yeah, that's it. That's what you're made for."

He only holds it there for a few seconds but by the time he pulls it out you're gasping for air, coughing and spluttering as tears stream relentlessly down your cheeks. He keeps cradling your face, tuts to himself as you try to get your breath back. The head of his cock bumps softly against your bottom lip.

"Not off to a great start, are we?" he murmurs, "Let's try again."

He pushes his cock past your lips again and you try your hardest not to gag, a little more prepared this time. The pulsing head of his cock situates itself firmly in your throat, the pubic hair at the base tickling your nose while his balls bounce against your chin. You look up at him with pleading eyes, watch as he stares down at you with nothing but malice in his expression, contempt. You're just a hole to him, nothing more.

He pulls out and lets you gasp another breath before he's shoving himself back in, hands moving back to hold your head firmly as he fucks your face. You don't move - you don't need to; he does all the work as he drags your head back and forth along his cock, hitting the back of your throat over and over again until you're gagging and practically sobbing for air. Your knees ache against the concrete floor and you know you'll have bruises tomorrow, know that you probably won't be able to swallow properly for a few days either. Somehow, you don't really care.

When he's gotten his fill he yanks himself out and allows you to catch your breath for a few seconds, throat constricting around nothing while you choke and gasp.

"Stand up," he orders, and even though you're still gasping for air you manage to bring yourself back up, legs shaking. Saliva drips down your chin, drooling from your mouth in long strands, but with your hands tied you can't make any attempt to clean yourself up - he probably wouldn't want you to anyway.

His wide palms are suddenly on your hips, and he picks you up and places you on top of the work bench with minimal effort, arms bulging. You're completely naked now save for your ripped tights while he's still fully clothed, dripping cock still peeking out past his zipper, covered in your saliva. He steps between your legs and pushes your thighs open, then slips inside of you once again in one short push, making you yelp.

"Oh, please," he grumbles, gripping your hips tightly and pulling your bare body taut against him, head hitting his chest, "We both know you can take it."

It's not like you have any other choice at this point. He fucks you harder than he had before, now that he has easier access, can pull you so firmly against him that his entire length is continuously swallowed up entirely by your dripping pussy. His nails dig into your skin as his cock fucks up against your cervix over and over, so relentless it's almost painful. It's overwhelming how huge he is, not just his cock but his body in general, the way he towers over you and watches your expressions as he takes what's now his.

"Poor little thing," he mumbles, bringing one of his hands up to thumb the tears on your face, "Never been so full, huh? It's okay, shhh," his finger finds your lips and pushes against them almost mockingly, like he's chastising you, "Shhh, this is what you asked for, remember? S'what you wanted." You shake your head but he just nods, "Yeah, it is. You wanted that cock and now you're gettin' it."

Suddenly you're being lifted from the workbench, carried in his embrace with his cock still buried deep inside. You cry out, wrists straining against the ropes, itching to wrap your arms around his neck and hold yourself up with more stability. His arms come up to stretch along the expanse of your back, holding you still and pulling you even closer. As if on instinct your legs bend upwards to wrap around his waist, curling around his lower back while he pistons inside of you without restraint, without mercy.

"Fuck," you almost scream, feeling the rough denim of his jeans scratching against your ass, the heaviness of his balls slapping against you over and over again, "Fuckfuckfuck!"

"Yeah, there she is, there's that little slut," he says, a smile spreading across his face, voice somehow calm despite the fact that he's pounding into you over and over, "Nothin' like gettin' fucked stupid to sort ya out, huh? Needed to be punished, didn't you, sweetheart?"

You don't answer, can't answer, eyes rolling back as he fucks you with abandon. Of course it's not a surprise when he lands a hard spank against your ass, grips your cheek tightly in his palm and growls roughly in your ear, "Answer me, little girl."

"Yes," you force yourself to gasp out, head tilting back, "Yes sir, yes."

"S'right," he mutters, and you suddenly feel the pads of his fingers against your clit, rubbing at an aggressively fast pace that sends depraved noises spitting past your lips, "Come on that cock, tighten up that little pussy even more for me, baby, come on."

It only takes seconds for him to make you come, your eyes rolling back as your body shakes and writhes in his grasp. He doesn't slow his movements, keeps fucking you deep and hard as your legs loosen at his waist and you flop like a ragdoll in his arms.

"Chokin' that dick," he murmurs, "Had so many cocks in this little hole and you're still the tightest thing I've fucked," his brow furrows as he watches your face, watches as your eyes flutter open and your jaw slackens, "And what about your other hole, baby?" You feel one of his fingers prod against your asshole, circle the rim as he continues to bounce you up and down, "Ever had a cock in there?"

You tense up a little in his embrace, eyes widening. At your reaction he slows his movements, still holding you upright and allowing you to just sit on his cock for a moment while he continues to prod your asshole, "I'll take that as a no," he mutters, "Think my cock'll fit up there?"

"It won't," you whisper immediately, shaking your head.

He assesses your expression, eyes trailing up and down your face calculatingly, like he's weighing the pros and cons. Your heart stutters in your chest and you feel that fear from earlier slowly begin to creep back into your psyche, hands shaking under the rope.

"I won't," he states, and relief floods through your body; you relax in his embrace, becoming aware again of his cock still buried deep inside you. He very carefully prods the tip of his index finger inside your asshole and your eyes go wide again, mouth opening in protest. "Yet," he amends, smiling coldly at you, "I won't yet. Not today."

He pulls his finger out and walks with you to the work bench again, places you down gentler than before and peers at you with something in his gaze that you can't place, a curiosity that wasn't there before. It's gone in an instant though, and then he's fucking into you again without warning, gripping tight to your hips and slamming back and forth until you see stars.

"You thought this'd be so funny, didn't you?" he growls, looking at you again with that detached contempt, black eyes locked with yours. He brings his hand down and starts rubbing your clit again, not caring that you only just came a moment ago. "Thought you'd come here, have your fun, and leave again. But it's not so funny anymore, is it? Huh? Is it funny?"

"N-no," you gasp out, overstimulated to the point of even more tears as you squirm and writhe on the work bench, pussy aching from the insistent way he's pounding you and the relentless rubbing of his fingers against your clit.

"S'the last time you show up here tellin' lies," he mutters, "Understand me? Any time you come into my house from now on you're gettin' fucked, got it?"

"Y-yes," you cry, hands futilely attempting to ball into fists behind your back, and he shakes his head.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir!" you scream it, and just as the words pass your lips he stills inside of you, cock twitching as he starts to come. Your eyes go wide, mouth dropping open as his hand sends you into another climax just as he reaches his. Your head falls against his chest and you hear him groan above you, feel the way his cock pulsates and throbs and spits his cum in long and heavy spurts. Your thighs twitch and you feel his hand at your back, pulling you in close as he cups the back of your head.

You stay like that for a moment without speaking, your heavy breaths the only sound in the garage other than the rain now pelting heavily against the door. You swear you can hear his heartbeat.

"Good little girl, warmin' my cock," he murmurs in your ear, and you're still catching your breath, eyes closed, sobs wracking from your throat repeatedly. "Full o'me, huh? You feel all that, baby?"

You can only nod against his chest, wrists still straining against the rope as your toes curl somewhere below you and your body continues to shake. His cum settles warmly deep inside and your eyes roll back a bit when he pushes in further, like he's trying to keep it inside for as long as he can.

"Guess I found a new little cum dumpster, huh?" he whispers, carding his fingers through your hair, "I'll have to say thank you to your friends, or -" he pauses thoughtfully for a moment, "maybe I'll just have to send 'em a little message back with you."

You pull your face back from his chest, peering up at him with tired confusion. He reaches down and pulls out one of the drawers of the work bench, coming back up with a sharpie. You watch with fluttering lashes, unable to stop him - and not really wanting to - as he uncaps the marker and pushes your hair out of the way to write something across your chest, the cold tip making you jolt slightly.

"Shh," he murmurs, "It's okay, I'll untie ya in a sec."

It doesn't take him very long to finish writing whatever it is on your skin, and then he's slowly pulling his cock out of you. You whimper at the loss, thighs twitching as you peer down and watch his softening length slip past your hole, followed by a steady stream of his cum. He quickly reaches up and pushes what he can back inside, thumbing it back in carefully while the reality of what's just happened really begins to settle. You just let a man in his fifties tie you up, use you, come inside you, and write on your chest.

"Can't have all that slippin' out yet," he mutters, "Now, what can we use?" His eyes dart up to the shelves above you and he reaches up to grab something; when his hand comes back down you see the pocket flashlight from earlier, see the slightly flared base and know almost immediately what he's planning on using it for.

For some reason - whatever reason it is that you stayed here after he gave you an out, whatever reason you really came here in the first place - you don't protest.

He brings the flashlight downwards and quickly removes his hand from your pussy to replace it with the wide end, slipping it inside with only minimal resistance. You whimper and he hushes you, brushing his nose against yours as he assesses his handiwork.

"That should do it," he murmurs, then peers back up at you and pushes some stray hair out of your face "You keep that in there 'til you get home, okay?" His eyes have softened a bit, looking more similar to the way they did when you first showed up - is this the real him? You honestly have no idea.

You don't say anything, just nod slowly, feeling the anxiety from earlier begin to sink in yet again. How are you going to get home when you have no clothes? How are you going to explain to your friends what happened? How can you tell them - or show them - what you let him do to you?

These questions are clearly none of his concern. You watch as he backs up and gestures for you to stand with him; you do, with beyond shaky legs and the cold metal of the flashlight between your thighs.

"Turn around," he orders.

You feel him untie the rope from your wrists, essentially ending your time here - whatever it even was. It somehow doesn't feel real. You let them hang limply at your sides, feeling embarrassment flood your cheeks as you turn back around to look at him. He's watching you with a smirk, arms crossed - his dick is back in his jeans. He looks no different than he had when you arrived.

"Now get the fuck out," he says, dark eyes glinting once again under the flickering fluorescents, "before I change my mind."

--

The air is still chilly. The road is still wet. But thankfully, there are no cars.

You don't know how you manage to get home without anyone seeing you - hunched over, naked in the darkness, avoiding the streetlights, trying to ignore the ache between your legs and the icy intrusiveness of the flashlight still lodged inside of you - but you do. Your palms are sweaty again, heart pounding at the thought of your friends coming to greet you at the door, for the shock and confusion and screaming to begin - but that doesn't happen.

The moment you're back in the house you pull a jacket down from the coat rack and cover yourself, tiptoeing past the living room and waiting to be accosted by the friends who put you in this situation to begin with. Instead, they're nowhere to be seen. You hear the faint echo of laughter from the kitchen, hear the sounds of glass clattering and a fridge being shut. It's like they've already forgotten you even left, like the game meant nothing, and they've already found something new to entertain them, something better.

As if your futile attempt at getting a kiss on the cheek from Joel Miller is already something lost in the past.

And, you think, as you shakily climb the stairs and creep into the bathroom, tear the jacket from your shoulders and stare at your bare chest in the bathroom mirror, see the dark permanent lines that read TRUTH OR DARE...

Maybe that's how it should be.

[rafesangelita]

hi angel! i love your work so much and fell in love with bambi!reader, so i was hoping you could write something for me ^_^

can you pls pls pls write bambi!reader comforting rafe after he gets into it with ward? i feel like she’d know exactly how to comfort himmm (pure fluff pls, i read too much smut lmaooo)

warnings: ward cameron, arguing, shouting, a little bit of physical violence, poor rafe who deserves so much better, mention of murder (i’m not referencing peterkin), fluff, soft petting, words of affirmation

a/n: aww bambi!reader has been getting so much love, it makes my heart happy to know that you enjoy the works that she’s in <3

“you had one job, rafe.. one!” ward had been shouting at rafe for nearly an hour already, his face flush with anger. “you really have a way of fucking things up, huh? i should put a caution sign on your forehead.” rafe’s fist clenched as he listened to his father, trying his best to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest with every word that ward spat.

“i already told you that i couldn’t close out the business accounts and wire the money to a different one. apparently i’m not next in line to own cameron development anymore. ‘you know something about that?” rafe was in disbelief when he had to find out from a service representative that his own father took him off of the family business, something that he worked hard all these years for in order to prove he was worthy of running.

ward froze. he had forgotten about that. “were you ever gonna tell me, or were you just gonna be a coward about it?” rafe stood up, towering over his father with that crazy look in his eyes. “what you forgot to do before you faked your own death instead of facing your problems like a man, was take my name off of the inheritance of tanneyhill.” he laughed, “i own this shit now.” rafe stepped closer, backing ward into the wall. “get out of my house.” ward was seething, his hand coming up to fist rafe’s shirt.

“your house? i’m the one who worked like a dog to get us here.” ward said through gritted teeth, shoving rafe in his chest. rafe stumbled, scoffing out a laugh as he then pushed his father. “worked like a dog to get us here but you were more than willing to leave me here while you start a new life in fuckin’ guadeloupe.” rafe fought to keep his emotions at bay.

“leave. and don’t ever come back.” ward’s chest was rising and falling, both him and rafe glaring at one another. “you’re cut off. good luck keeping up with this place on your own.” ward smiled bitterly. “cut off?” rafe narrowed his eyes, “i’ve been cut off, dad. i haven’t used a cent of yours since i was nineteen. all this time i’ve been making money my own way, and a lot of it too. ‘seems like your old man brain forgot about that.” rafe nudged ward as he walked past, his father following him out of the master bedroom.

“i’m leaving. when i come back i want you out of here,” rafe grabbed his truck keys, his skin on fire as he looked up the staircase, “and by the way, asshole, i’m not by myself. i got the prettiest girl on the island on my arm everywhere i go.” ward watched as his son walked out the front door. rafe was seeing red the whole time he drove to your house, cursing under his breath as he recalled his father’s words.

“the fucking nerve that guy has.” he punched the steering wheel, nostrils flaring as tears pricked at his eyes. he was the only one who was there to take care of things when ward was ‘gone’. even going as far as committing crimes so his father wouldn’t face any kind of scrutiny. yet, there he was telling him that he was a fuck up.

rafe spent the next five minutes mumbling to himself, his hands shaking as he parked outside your driveway. you were curled up on the porch swing, an open book in your lap when he walked up the stone path. all it took was one look at your boyfriend to have you scrambling up from your seat, eager to soothe him in any way you can. “oh, ray, what’s wrong?” you guided him inside, locking the door shut before both of you made your way up to your room.

“it’s ward. he came back just to tell me shit about not closing the bank accounts under cameron development.” you knew all about rafe’s conflict with his father. from the way he favored everyone else over his eldest, to the constant nagging and insults. sitting rafe down on the edge of your bed, you couldn’t help the way your heart sunk at the sight of defeat in his shoulders, his eyes void of any emotion.

slipping his shoes off, you took your usual seat in his lap, stroking the outline of his jaw as he vented. “i’ll never be good enough for him. i killed for him goddamit, and what do i get in return? ‘i should put a caution sign on your forehead.’ rafe imitated ward’s voice from earlier. you blinked, pecking his cheek. “you’re an amazing son, rafe. shame on him for not recognizing that.” rafe stared up at you, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

you were the only one that looked at him with pure adoration, the only one who made him feel like he had a purpose. “i think you’re amazing, rafe. you don’t sit around, waiting to get things done, you’re so helpful, and so, so kind— to me.” he chuckled at the clarification, rubbing a large hand over your knee. “you think so?” he leaned his head against your chest, your arms coming up to hold him. “i know so.” you sighed, breathing in his scent.

“wanna be little spoon tonight?” your voice alone made him relax, his eyes fluttering shut.

“..yeah.”

[dilftaroooo]

hii new anon🎀

ex-boyfriend gojo who has an obsession over you and has been following you around. you’ve “moved on” and invite a man to hookup but he just couldn’t make u cum. as soon as the guy leaves gojo comes over and fucks you dumb.

>.<

gojo being on the sidelines before coming in to finish the job is kinda crazy. i can imagine he followed u from the bar you were in before leaning near the door to your apartment. waiting for your hookup to leave.

★tags/tw: stalking + toxicity + bathtub sex + he fucks u with his clothes on while ur bathing + fem!reader w she/her pronouns + nipple play + unprotected sex + unsatisfied sex (with ur hookup) + ummm home invasion but not, really?? + idfk I'm not a judge + gojo kinda comes in unannounced + attempt at proofread bc im sleepy so some shit might look janky.

The small dicked fucker left as soon as he spurted over your abdomen, the runny substance cascades through the crease between the start of your thighs and the edge of your pussy, which, hasn't released a drop of arousal the whole night.

The man you hooked up with had to blow a glob of spit onto your folds before he'd rub a finger on your make-believe clit, 'Yeah, know you like that. You came to the right person, sweet thing'. Why did you even bring him over? He's not even doing this shit properly. You're sure he wouldn't know where your clit laid even if you made a map and pointed it out for him. If you're gonna be cocky at least do it right.

Your hot bath gave you more pleasure since it was the perfect ratio of water to bubbles. The white foam didn't completely submerge you and you took the time to let the liquid stray you from your mind while listening to the sound of bubbles crunching from around.

Apparently, smelling the medicinal aroma of eucalyptus must've blurred the taps of footsteps making their way into your apartment and into your master bathroom.

"There she is. Taking a bath already? Your one-time fling came here, what, not over ten minutes ago and left? I'm sure you had the night of your life." The mockery in the intruder's tone was evident with each word he spoke.

His hair was still the absence of color, resembling the white sheets stacked high at the corner of your room. His skin was pale and somewhat glossy with expensive moisturizer. Aqua spheres were decorated with flecks of adorable baby blue. He's buff, perhaps buffer than the last time you saw him. But most of everything was unchanged.

He squats next to your incredulous as well as vulnerable figure in the ivory porcelain of your bathtub.

"How'd you get in here?" You inquiry.

"It's no good to leave the keys to your apartment under that more than obvious vase next to your front door. It's corny and you can get robbed that way too." He takes a peek at nipples covered by a translucent blanket. The bubbles had disintegrated leaving you exposed from the lack of foam.

You forgot he knows about the key underneath your grandmother's vase. You're the one who told him about it and you silently wish you hadn't.

"Well, congratulations on committing a federal crime. Now leave, Satoru."

"Oh, but darling you trusted me enough to tell me about those keys so I'm doing nothing wrong. Now, enlighten me, did that guy make you come so hard that he had you seeing stars?"

The lukewarm water kisses your pores in an attempt to soothe your beating heart. The scent of your ex was still riddled with that same lustful scent of mint and cinnamon, a cologne that you remember gifting him for the sole reason of how arousing it was paired with taut muscles and blue eyes.

You felt like a needy omega, shaking in the comfort of your den as your eyes water at the sight of your alpha and cowering at the pheromones leaking off his body and into your awaiting nostrils. He smells so fucking good.

"I know you heard me, sugar plum." You won't forget how much he loved to jeer at you. He wanted to hear you admit how much of a bad fuck your hookup was and how he didn't even get you to come. How you wished it was Satoru that took his place and filled your achy cunt til his balls smack your ass.

You adjust your seating when a warm palm engulfs your cheek whole. Not a trace of your skin color reveals itself under Satoru's hand. He's big even when squatting down to your size. The scowl on your face juxtaposes the grin on Satoru's.

"That's none of your business. We're not together anymore. Stop riding my dick."

"Though I do love a good ride, I think it's you who wants to do the riding, sweetheart."

Fingers crawl over your neck, down to the tops of your breasts, and onto your perky nipples. He continues to tease you by drawing circles around them making you tremble with unadulterated desire.

"Am I wrong? You can't even look me in my eyes. Bet you're not even aware of how heavy you're breathing. Poor girl. He didn't give you what you wanted. Say it." It almost sounded commanding if not for the lithe of his voice

"Fuck, hah, fuck you, Satoru..." The man cheeses.

"Right now?"

"Shit, yes."

"Knew you’d come around."

His patience must've ran thin because he didn't even bother taking his clothes off. Only unzipping his flyer to pull out his aroused dick and fleshy balls before joining you in the now cold water.

You were still his pretty princess as you took him in deep into your cavern, the bath water that surrounded you sloshed with every dominant thrust Satoru pounded you with and you did nothing but moan the name of your supposed ex like a vintage record player.

"Was he able to reach that spot that you liked hit, baby?"

"Mm-mm." You muffled.

"And why is that, huh?" His cock has that cute upturn that repeatedly nudges at your slimy walls which encourages your arousal to spill and combine with the bath water. You were better off taking a shower.

"Because he wasn't you." Your words came out in increments as he beats your pussy raw. The sound of almost every syllable slurred like a drunken man's tongue.

"That's it. You got it now, darling. You still missed me, didn’t you?" The fabric of his clothes is now soaked due to his stubbornness but there was no room for complaints when cotton and denim cling to jutting muscles. The pink of his areolas revealed itself under wet clothes. His nipples were as hard as yours. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

[reidmotif]

Please, Please, Please

Summary: Spencer makes a promise he can't keep to Reader, and pays the price. (Requested by Anon!)

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Angst

Content Warning: allusions to reader wearing makeup, unhappy ending

Word Count: 1k

Masterlist

"Heartbreak is one thing, my ego's another / I beg you don't embarrass me, motherfucker."

I felt like despite it all, the scene was a little comical. 

Half eaten cake plates, all strewn around haphazardly around my apartment, balloons and streamers meant to commence the sunniness of the day, and yet my disposition was anything but. 

I’d asked him, a million times over and then some if he was absolutely sure he’d manage to make it. I’d never been the type to demand anything, I was fine with an answer that wasn’t in the affirmative and yet there he went, reassuring me that “I’ll come” and promising he “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Well someone must’ve given Spencer Reid the fucking world, because here we were, party over and Spencer very obviously not here.

I’d stupidly gotten excited over it too, which only added to the growing bubble of resentment I felt. I’d promised my friends that after the last dozen times he’d flaked on shared plans, he’d be here this one time. None of them believed me.

 I kept grinning, reassuring them he’d come. I kept imagining my charming boyfriend surprising them all, holding some extravagant gift in his hand and sweeping me into his arms with the other one. He’d compliment my makeup, or maybe he’d kiss me right then and there,  and I’d finally be able to introduce him to everyone. I would be able to relish in how lucky I’d gotten to have such a wonderful man in my life that I cared for so deeply. I’d share stories about the memories we’d made, and spend an incredibly special day with an incredibly special person. 

That’s what I’d imagined. Instead, my friends and other guests looked on in pity as I watched the front door, for a man who couldn’t care less to commit to any one of our plans. Guests slowly trailed out as the party came to an end, and I was left there, cleaning up the remnants of Spencer’s empty promises to me.

Fuck this.

Finally, I hear the doorbell ring. Fun. He comes half an hour later once the party’s ended. I unlock the door and see him standing there, sheepish and apologetic.  There’s a sad little bouquet in his hands, which I assume is there to assuage me from the anger I felt, but it did absolutely nothing to placate me. 

“Baby I’m so-“ Spencer starts.

“Save it. I am sick of this.” I say, my nostrils flaring as he stares at me from the doorway.

“Please. It was work. I was- it slipped my mind.” He replies, trying to reason with me. 

I felt an angry laugh bubble over me, disbelief clouding my features. “You forgot?! Are you fucking kidding me?” 

There’s a pause. “No..? No. I’m not kidding.” He mumbles. 

“So much for an eidetic memory.” I think to myself, snarking in my own head at the mess of a man infront of me.

I used to think he’d hang the damn stars in the sky for me.

“I can’t do this anymore.” I say, a firmness in my voice. 

Spencer straightens up. He swallows and nods. “Yeah, no.” He sighs, rubbing at his neck.  “Let’s table this for tomorrow. How about we go upstairs and just cuddle and forget about today? Yeah?”

He’s speaking with that infuriatingly comforting tone, attempting to step forward, to envelope me in that warmth only he could. As soon as his hand made contact with my shoulder, though, I glare at him, shooting daggers with my eyes before forcibly removing him off, much to his dismay and heartbreak.

I ignore it all.

“No.” I interrupt. “I can’t do this anymore. You. I can’t do you anymore.” I say, gesturing between us.

The moment he processes the words, the heartbreak on his face is immediate, his features falling within a nanosecond. “No. I mean- no. You don’t mean that, you’re angry but please- I love you. You know that.” 

“Do I?” I responded, eyebrows raising with a condescending edge to my tone. “When have you once shown up for me the way I show up for you? Love isn’t transactional Spencer, but Jesus. This isn’t love. This isn’t how you treat someone you love.” I say, fuming. 

“You know how my job is. You know that.” He says, voice on the verge of breaking. 

“And you knew how important this was to me!” I responded. “This hurts, Spencer! I don’t know if you get that, but it does. I feel so- so humiliated!”

“Humiliated?” He asks, softly. 

“Humiliated. Crushed. I go on like an absolute ditz for the better part of this week about how excited I was to introduce my boyfriend to everyone, and then he doesn’t show up. Wonderful.” I say, a bite in my tone. “Sad girl at her birthday party. What a fucking cliche.” 

“So, what? Is this about your ego?” He fires back, slightly defensive. “I know I fucked up, but- but this is too much. My actions do not warrant this.”

“You know what?” I fire back.  “Yeah. Maybe it is my ego. Sue me for believing that maybe, just maybe, I believe I deserve better than someone who can’t bother to commit to a promise.” I say, a bit more resigned now as my statement came to a close. I roll my eyes. “You’re not the relationship I want nor the one I deserve.”

His eyebrows raise, face further conveying the state of distress he was in. He licks his lips, sensing that this conversation is coming to a fast end and shakes his head, trying hard to save face. “Please let me make it up to you. Let me be the person you deserve. You.. You know how important you are to me.” 

His eyes are shining. Brown doe eyes glistening with tears and my heart twists at the sight, but his words only aim to wound me further.

I sigh, feeling a prick of tears for the first time this whole conversation. My feelings of anger were slowly replaced with a deeper sadness as I replied.

“No, Spencer. I really don’t.” 

I shut the door before I have to endure anymore of his crestfallen expression. 

So much for a good birthday.

so woahh. do we do a part 2 ? who knows. sorry about the unhappy ending. anyway, this if my first time doing an angst piece like this! let me know what you think lmfao. any comments, likes, reblogs, ect ect are sooo deeply appreciated <3 thank you for reading!!

[eetherealgoddess]

Can we get another hybird fic?

ꨄOur Pet Humanꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Hybrid Au

❦You’re a human surviving in the world of hybrids❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

❣︎Also, the other bonten members (except mochi) are in this story❣︎

Not fully proofread!

Japanese language is red

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR & AO3 UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Our Pet Human

You ignore the filthy fumes sneaking into your nostrils as you use your hands to dig through the piles of trash lying inside the dumpster. You tear open a bag or two as you go, searching for any kind of food you could get your paws on. You ignore the pain forming in your stomach from the lack of nutrients, sweat falling down your forehead as half of your body is hanging inside the compartment. The last meal you consumed was from the company you were transferred to, auctioned off to the highest bidder just for the cycle to repeat.

At the time you were so focused on escaping that you forgot to think about the long term effects like food supply, shelter, clothing, etc. You snatch the half eaten treat and push against the dumpster until you’re on your feet. You shove the delicacy in your mouth quickly before chewing fast, a few crumbs falling from your face. You wipe your mouth using the back of your wrist. You drop your body to the concrete next to the dumpster, pulling your knees under your chin. You lie your arms across as you lean your head over, face resting against your legs.

You reminisce about the time in which you lived normally when humans were at the top of the hierarchy. Hybrids were a recent creation, only having been a result of an experimentation your species studied. By chance, they were able to manipulate the scientists into believing that they would make the perfect pets. Time went on as the hybrids were bought and sold, mostly by the rich. Once there were plenty out of their cages, they took over by force.

Blood was everywhere as chaos filled the streets. One by one families and individuals who owned the species were slaughtered just as the hybrids figured out their own control system, mimicking the humans idea by selling humans to anyone who’d buy depending on the ‘quality.’ As a human, you could be sold as a pet, servant, maid, heat guide, or even food. You could’ve been sold as anything though after you were caught and switched from country to country, you had enough. You didn’t agree with the idea when humans ruled and you definitely don’t agree with how things are now.

You lift your head slightly before eyeing the bruises and cuts that lathered your arms and legs. There is a medium sized tear on your grimy shirt, displaying some of the marks on your torso. You sigh before brainstorming your next move. Pulled out of your head, you hear footsteps coming near. Your eyes widen as you cover your mouth. You look around swiftly, noticing your lack of escape routes as you use your other arm to tighten the grip around your legs, the feeling of being stuck prominent.

Fuck, why did my stupid ass rest here?

You could only remain stationary as the footsteps grew louder, indicating the close vicinity of the stranger. You make an attempt at making yourself smaller as you scoot closer to the corner where the dumpster and wall meet, your back against the large object as you continue to hold your knees against your chest. You were nervous of the hybrid’s ability to sniff out the prey, hoping that the garbage smell will cover your natural scent.

Your breath hitches as you look straight ahead, the footsteps halting in front of the dumpster, slightly diagonal to where you’re hiding. You hear a low hum before the footsteps return though the sound seems to shrink as a minute passes. You slowly peak from the side of the garbage and eye the figure walking back in the direction they came. You eye his tall torso and broad shoulders, the white leopard printed tail swaying behind him as he slowly strides away, a hand running through his short lilac locks, bringing your attention to the ears that have the same print as his tail.

You release a sigh before turning back into your position, only to release a gasp as sharp blue eyes fill your vision. The pink haired man snatched your arm before you could react, his blonde yet spotted ears falling back as his tail thrashed. His claws pierce your skin which caused a sharp pain to shoot up your arm. He pulls you to eye level as you grimace.

“What do you think you’re doing here, human?” The jaguar says in a language you don’t understand. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you explain, “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

He stares at you for a moment before a grin reaches his expression. The purple suited man drags you along, following the same path as the leopard from before.

You struggle in his grip as he pulls you along seeming to do no damage as he didn’t release his hold. You gasp as he squeezed your wrist painfully. You pull your other arm back and land a fist on his shoulder before aiming at his head, only for him to dodge it and grab your fist, yanking you to fall on your knees in front of him. He released you before grabbing your chin and pulling you forward as he leaned over.

“Behave.” He states in your language, giving you a stern look. His sharp gaze pierced your soul as you suck your teeth in annoyance.

“Then let me go.” You demand. An eyebrow raised on his face as he smirked.

“We’re gonna fix that mouth of yours.” He released your chin before snatching you by the collar and pulling you along once more. You allow him to act this time, not wanting to push your luck and become his next meal. You’re forced to head towards the large building. Once you enter, your orbs meet with purple.

“Hm. I thought I smelled a pesky little vermin.” A sly grin falls upon the familiar male’s face as he observes you. You glare at his insult, planning a retort though another hybrid beat you to it.

“All I smell is garbage. Is that where you found this thing, Sanzu?” The male standing to the right of the short haired man, his ears and tail matching that of the taller male. Purple bangs hover over his eyes as he gives you a blank stare, his hands hidden inside of his pockets. You eye the matching symbol on his neck and guess that the two purple eyed men must be siblings. He turns his attention to the pink haired jaguar after the last sentence, his tail hanging low, twitching at the end.

“I brought a gift for Mikey.” Sanzu gives a pleased smile as he walks to the elevator, continuing to force you along as the brothers follow along.

“Shouldn’t you give it a bath first? I’m curious to see it all cleaned up.” The taller man leaned his back against the wall of the elevator. You could only switch your gaze back and forth as you couldn’t decipher their conversation, giving up and turning away with your own arms crossed. After the shorter leopard pressed a button, you felt the room move upward.

Once you make it to the correct floor, you all walk off once the elevator doors slide open. The hand on your collar moves to one of your wrists as you’re guided to a door at the end of the hall, stumbling behind the three pigmented men. Just as the two brothers walked in, Sanzu halts before making an entrance, glancing at you before pursing his lips and turning around, walking in the opposite direction.

“Where are we going?” You question in confusion. He ignored you as you were dragged once more down the hall and back to the elevator.

Once you reach a floor higher, you’re forced out of the elevator as you take in the surroundings of what seems to be a common area. Once he reaches the bathroom, he places his hands on your shoulders and forces you to sit on the toilet. Just as you were about to question him, he walks out, slamming and locking the door behind him.

After a moment of silence, the lock is turned and a human woman walks in. You watch as she walks to the bathtub, turning the faucet on and setting all the necessities in place.

“H-hey I can bathe myself, you know?” You grasp her attention by tapping her shoulder after you had shot up from your seat. You pause when she turns to look at you with bloodshot eyes.

“P-please, just… j-just allow me to complete my task, Ms.” Her voice trembled as she eyed you with pure terror in her eyes.

You eye her for a moment with bewilderment. You observe the scars and bruises you hadn’t noticed when she first walked in. You know that hybrids are usually terrible when it comes to properly caring for the human species. You snarled as your hands turned to fists. You quietly nod and begin to undress once everything is ready.

She gives you privacy as you climb into the large tub, the suds covering your body as you lean against the back of the surface. Although you wished for a shower, you knew anything was better than wearing the same dirty clothes for any longer.

After the process was over, you were guided to a bedroom. Your eyes widen at the display lying on the bed. A black ruffled collar sat on the comforter as well as a black leash. On closer inspection the collar had a mixture of red and black ruffled lace as well as a red heart hanging as the identification tag.

“No fucking way.” You breathe out. You were upset and angry, not having expected any better from the hybrid species but also missed the sense of freedom you had for a while before getting caught once more. You went through so much just to return being some stupid pet for these abominations.

The woman flinched as you snatched the collar and leash, throwing them to the ground and releasing a few curses. You only stopped when you heard a whimper behind you, thinking you had accidentally scared the fellow human you turn your body around only to be met with an unfamiliar male. Your body jolted in surprise.

The man observes the situation as you return the same gaze, eyeing the tiger tattoo that caught your attention, your eyes moving up to his facial features that consist of a beauty mark right under his eye as well as large golden eyes boring into you. His hair falls down, two blonde strands in front of his face and black locks falling behind, slightly covering the tattoo. You glance at the tiger printed ears at the top of his head. He tsked after waving the woman off and slowly shaking his head, walking towards you, his tail high with a small hook at the end.

“That wasn’t very nice. Don’t you think you should be a little more grateful?” He placed his hands in his pockets as he awaits a response, shifting his gaze to the accessories lying on the floor. He crouched down and grabbed the items, placing them back on the bed.

You couldn’t fully read him. He seems as though he is a laid back guy but considering the reaction the other human had, you knew not to push your luck with your words. You knew it could get you in some trouble.

After silence fills the room, he gently taps his lap as one of his ears that stood up slightly twitched. He gives you a smile as he waits for you to move. You look down where his hand is before glaring at his face. You shook your head. An eyebrow raises as a frown falls on his face, his ears slightly pulled back before returning to their placement.

“What’s your name?” You pause in contemplation before answering.

“Y/n.” He hums as he nods. Suddenly, he seizes your wrist before pulling you on top of him, forcing your knees on each side of his lap as your weight sinks on the bed. You eye him with wide eyes as he gazes up at you, arms snaking around your waist as you're forced in place. Your hands meet his shoulders to steady yourself.

“I don’t want to be mean, Y/n.” He starts off, shifting his attention to the collar and leash before turning back to you. “You see, this kind of behavior is unacceptable.” You hold back a shiver as a cold hand places itself under your shirt and on your lower back.

“I’m giving you a chance to take your punishment like the good girl I know you can be.” One of his hands moves to your chin, claws poking your skin. He gives you a closed eye smile before saying, “So don’t test my patience, okay?”

You didn’t know how to respond, not wanting to conform and also not wanting to test this guy’s boundaries. It was at this moment you realized that you have no clue who these hybrids are and what they’re capable of. You gag on the inside as you obey, nodding in response to let him know you’re listening.

“Awe, you’re already being so good for me.” He beamed while caressing your cheek. “How about I let you off with a warning?” You hold back the disgusted look that wanted to fall on your face, thankful that you weren't going to receive whatever he had in store for you.

He grabs the collar before securing it around your neck, as well as hooking the leash. “My name is Kazutora but you’re gonna call me Master anyway. I just want you to know the difference between me and the others.” He pats your thigh before gently pushing you off of him, your feet connecting to the floor.

He pulls you along by the leash, walking to the elevator and entering once the doors opened. After you reach the designated floor, he pulls you down the familiar hall and to the door that the man you remembered to be ‘Sanzu’ hadn’t allowed you to walk into.

Once you enter, you see a long table in the middle of the room, along with six other men sitting at the table. You couldn’t help but feel intimidated when all the sharp gazes shift to you. The aura of the room was suffocating, your instincts kicking in as your body tightened up. You knew just by the look of everyone in the room, you were amongst some of the most dangerous hybrids.

A platinum haired male released a huff, his ears pressed against his head as well as his tail low though twitching at the end. His fingers meet his temple as he rubs along.

“Do you know how much this thing is going to cost to take care of it?” The cheetah hybrid growled, glaring at the pink haired jaguar who smirked in return.

“It’s not like we don’t have enough money, Koko.”

“That’s not the point.” He hissed, fangs bare as his tail slowly thrashed.

“I think it’ll be good having it around” The older Haitani states as he takes a sip of his glass.

“That’s because you only want to fuck it, you don’t have me fooled.” The man with a scar over his eye chuckled, a cigarette hanging outside of the corner of his mouth. You guessed his relation is somehow with the man with scars on his mouth considering the same pattern they have plastered on their ears and tail.

“So what, Takeomi? What else is it good for besides a heat guide?” The younger Haitani questions, one ear flat as the other sticks up as well as his cheek leaning on the palm of his hand. As everyone converses, Kazutora pulls you along to awkwardly stand next to his seat as he sits down at the table.

“It doesn’t matter what any of you think. It’s up to our boss.” The great dane says, a stern look on his face as he sits with a leg crossed over the other. His arms are crossed as he leans against the back of the chair, his black tail still as his ears hang from his head. His heterochromia eyes slanted as a look of irritation crossed his face. Once the boss was mentioned, everyone except you shifted their gaze to the white haired lion that sat at the end of the table.

You had no clue what was going on, having not understood a word though only understanding everyone’s tense body language when you followed their gazes to a short man with dark eyes. He stares ahead as you observe his features, his ears sticking straight up, though from your angle you couldn’t see his tail. Finally, his dark orbs meet yours, catching you off guard and forcing you to look away considering the eye contact.

Before he says anything, the door swings open, revealing a random man who resembles the features of a bear and the human woman you met earlier dragged in by the bicep. You watch with your eyebrows furrowed as he tossed her into the room, her hands stopping her face from meeting the floor followed along with a grunt.

He stood back against the door with his arms crossed as he eyed the situation, awaiting instructions. She trembles against the floor, looking back and forth between the men and you in fear. A look of confusion crossed your face as you watched the display.

“Ran.” The lion says, nodding over to the woman. A smile crossed the tall leopard’s face as his ears and tail perked up.

“Yes, sir.” He says, standing from his seat as an object in his hand is revealed. You eye the silver weapon that seems to get longer after he flicks his wrist.

“N-no, please! I-I’m sorry!” The woman cries out, crawling back as she cowers down. You gasp as the realization clicks on what he’s about to do with the baton.

You make an attempt to run towards her shaking figure, only to be reminded of the collar around your neck as Kazutora yanks your leash back.

“Sit.” He yanks once more, a harsher tug that forces you to fall backwards on your derrière.

“Fuck!” You hiss in pain only for a stinging sensation on your cheek to appear as your head is forced the opposite way. A hand on your chin pulls your face towards his as he leans over in his chair.

“I should hear no bad words coming from that mouth.” He gives you a bored look before returning his gaze to the display. You pant as you look over at the human woman in concern.

“P-please don’t do thi-!” A loud crack echoed throughout the room, followed by another and another along with the woman’s grunts. You stare wide eyed as his arm pulls back before slamming down on the woman’s back. She limps to the ground, barely awake as her body twitches. You watch as blood leaks out of her mouth, oozing on the floor as her head lies down.

He lands another harsh hit to her back using both hands on the handle before landing another once more. Your own hands shake as they reach your ears once you shut your eyes tightly. You hope that it’ll be over soon, though you don’t know if she’ll survive. With a last resounding crack, the purple eyed man finally stops his assault and steps back. He flips the body using his foot though she only fell back into place, the side of her face against the floor as her stomach is attached to the ground.

Just as you opened your eyes and removed your hands, you gaze at her lifeless form. A looming darkness hovers over you as your stomach feels itself drop, bringing your knees to your chest as a few tears begin to fall. Your lip quivers as you observe her still body.

To think that I saw her only just a while ago alive and walking.

Footsteps could be heard in the quiet room, the lion stepping forth and halting when he stood next to the corpse. He crouched down, grabbing the collar of her shirt and standing up, her body hanging from his hold. The platinum haired male shifted his gaze to you.

“Let this be a lesson, Y/n.” You glared when he dropped the body and walked to his seat.

“Dismissed.”

You stared at the bowl sitting on the floor from where you sat in the dining room of their shared penthouse. It was supposed to be a full human meal but resembled the containers of wet food you’d get for your regular cats you had before the take over. This was a common way for hybrids to feed their humans. It depends on the owner whether or not you’re allowed to eat with your hands.

“Why are you not eating, Y/n?” Ran questions from where he sits on the chair next to you. Looking up at him and back to the bowl, you frowned.

“I can’t eat like this.” In fact, you never had to before. When you were with the initial abductors they would just throw a bowl in the cages but wouldn’t stay to watch so you’d just eat with your hands like a normal human.

“You’re lucky to be fed at all.” Rin rolled his eyes as he grabbed your bowl.

Ran tsked before leaning over, catching you off guard and pulling your body onto his lap. Rin passed the bowl to his brother and leaned back in his seat, using a lighter to burn the end of a blunt before setting it to his mouth.

You look at Ran with wide eyes as you shift uncomfortably on his lap. His chest rumbled from his deep chuckle.

“Don’t be so rude, brother. The kitty only wanted to be fed.” Your face heats up in embarrassment.

“That’s far from what I wanted!” A harsh smack on your thigh caused you to wince.

“Do we need to buy a muzzle for it?” Rin questioned as he pulls another hit before blowing the smoke out in your direction.

“That wouldn’t be a terrible idea.” Ran says as he uses chopsticks to pick up a piece of your food, bringing it to your lips.You hesitate out of pride, turning your head in the process as you couldn’t shake the feeling of humiliation.

“Should I use my baton?” Ran questions you. The memory of what the woman went through earlier crossed your mind, causing a shiver to slither up your spine before you parted your lips. Bringing his chopsticks to your lips once more, you opened your mouth wider to give better access before closing your lips around the utensil.

It had been a few weeks since you were taken in by Bonten as a pet. You lie still as you eye the ceiling, laying on your designated palette next to Mikey’s bed. Although you were able to adapt, you still couldn’t get used to their unpredictable and violent ways. At least you knew what you were getting when you were at the company before.

The contrast between some of their treatment and punishments were unsettling. Not to mention how demeaning it is to be treated as some animal when only just a few years back you lived a normal life. You look down and eye the fresh marks on your skin, remembering the baton making contact with your dermis as well as Sanzu using his katana. Kazutora usually spanks you and you’d think it wouldn’t be so bad, yet his hand uses so much force that it’s actually quite painful and makes it hard to sit for long periods of time.

Rin finds various ways to discipline you such as forcing you to kneel in rice, popping a joint or two out of place before popping it back, etc. You haven’t angered Mikey yet and fortunately the others leave you be so you don’t see them much at all.

“Y/n.” A voice took you out of your thoughts and caused you to eye the bed. “Come.”

Your eyebrows furrow at the demand. You’ve never been allowed in anyone’s bed up until this point so the command threw you in for a loop. Slowly sitting up, you picked yourself off of the floor and climbed on the bed, your own eyes meeting closed lids before you’re pulled into an embrace.

Your back meets Mikey’s chest as you both lay fetal position, him spooning you. You could only stare wide eyed across from where you lay when you felt a rumble, hearing a pur near your ear as his tail wraps around your thigh. Time passed before you both fell into a deep slumber, creating the unsaid habit as the cycle repeats.

A few months pass and a new human gets hired as one of the staff who are used to clean, cook, and complete the everyday tasks at hand. Because the majority of hybrids you were around, there were very few humans. Having been exhausted with your circumstances, you became a close friend to the new guy, creating a bond that you haven’t felt in a long time. Whenever the ‘masters’ would go on a mission, you’d be left on your lonesome until you would untie yourself from the post and leave your spot.

You would search for your friend, Eiichi until you found him and would help the male clean faster so you both could hang out as normal people, something neither of you had done in a long time. You began to spend so much time together that you would find yourself smiling at nothing whenever he was away, having to explain yourself as a result of your odd behavior, usually coming up with a lie.

You enjoyed each other’s company so much that you decided to brainstorm an escape plan together, ready to escape this world and live off grid. It was wishful thinking but the sooner you left this penthouse, the better. As you both leaned over the counter, caught the other’s eye as you stared for a moment. It had been a while since you had received genuine care from another human being. The gap in between both of you almost came to a close until you were yanked back by the collar of your shirt.

“So dirty.” The jaguar hissed before quickly stabbing Eiichi’s hand against the counter using a dagger. The human male yells out in pain as you’re grabbed by the neck and lifted from the floor. Rin’s eyes narrow as a smile appears on his face along with his ears flat against his head. His tail thrashes around violently.

“I just needed an excuse to go harder on you.” He says as you struggle to unwrap the fingers that are blocking your airway. Your feet dangle in the air as you hear another blood curdling shriek from Eiichi as Sanzu twists the weapon in the wound while glaring at the weaker man.

“Who said you can touch what belongs to Bonten, you fucking rat?” Sanzu growled before his claws protruded, pulling his arm back and slicing through Eiichi’s back.

Eiichi released a howl of agony as he leaned over the counter, his other fist connecting to the surface as his own nails dug into the palm of his trembling hand. Tears stream down his face as he looks up in your direction.

“L-let her go!” He grunts, his head hovering over his bloody hand. You struggle harder and you lose more air, your vision blurring out gradually as your body weakens.

“Since when did you call the shots?” Rin questions before he walks to where he’s standing across from Eiichi in a closer space. He released your neck, allowing you to drop. He snatches your waist before you could fully fall on the ground, coughing and chasing your breath. He eyes Eiichi before grabbing your chin harshly and forcing your lips to meet his. Your eyes widen as Rin’s other hand wraps around your bruised neck once more though to pull you into the kiss closer.

Once he was finished roughly kissing your lips, he moved the hand on your neck to the back of your head and wrapped the other arm around your waist, moving his head down your neck as you quietly pant while avoiding eye contact with the other men. You would’ve bit him if it wasn’t risking your life. His lips leave a tingling sensation to linger on each spot of your skin his mouth assaults. He stares Eiichi in the eyes the entire time, who could only stare back in agony and anger.

“See that?” Sanzu whispers near Eiichi’s ear. “See how she's taking it?”

When the human didn’t respond, Sanzu twisted the dagger once more before snatching it out, causing a drawn out grunt to leave Eiichi’s lips. You try to pull back but Rin’s hold was painfully tight.

“Answer me.” He hissed, his ears falling back as his tail mocked Rin’s thrashing. Eiichi nods violently, followed by a desperate, “Yes!”

“What’s going on here?” A voice came from the elevator, Ran walking in as well as Kazutora walking behind with their ears perked up. They had on amused expressions, staring at the display as they walked towards the busy executives.

“Tell em.” Rin demands looking into your eyes while your noses almost meet, pulling you back just enough to shift your gaze to the tiger and leopard.

“W-we were gonna kiss.” You say softly, nervous of the reactions considering how the first two executives responded. Kazutora sighs as Ran walks to the other side of you, opposite of his brother.

“Awe, kitty if you just wanted a kiss why didn’t you say so?” He cooed before leaning over and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I thought you were a good girl, Y/n.” Kazutora frowns before crossing his arms and walking around the counter to where Eiichi is leaning over.

He uses one hand to grip the back of Eiichi’s collar before pulling his arm back and landing a bone crunching punch on his face, causing the poor human to fall over on the floor, blood splattering everywhere. You gasp as you yell his name before Ran wraps a hand half way under your chin and neck and forces you to look up, your head resting on his chest as he looks down at you.

“All you have to do is ask, Y/n. I don’t mind being the human touch you need.” He chuckled as Sanzu and Kazutora took turns beating and kicking Eiichi. A fist connects with his face as a foot connects with his stomach and so on. The floor is a bloody mess as well as the granite counter.

“Stop fucking hurting him!” You push against Rin’s chest as Ran releases your neck. Suddenly the room goes quiet as a new set of footsteps could be heard entering the room.

The lion eases into the room with a blank look on his face, pondering the display as he motions for everyone to follow. Everyone begins to move towards their boss, you turning around to try and check on Eiichi, only to see Kazutora use Sanzu’s dagger to puncture it through Eiichi’s back. You gasp as you try to break free of the Haitani brother’s hold.

“N-no!” You shriek as tears stream down your face, Rin picking you up in the process and throwing you over his shoulder to force you along.

You all walk onto a large bedroom, one that you haven't seen before. Before you could get a good look, you were tossed on the bed. Mikey took his seat on one of the accented sofas across from the bed. Everyone else stood at attention while waiting for instructions. You made poor attempts to prevent yourself from crying considering the only human friend you had just got murdered by your recklessness.

“Since you found her, do what you will.” Your eyes widen at Mikey’s statement. Before you could react, you felt arms wrap around your waist before you’re pulled in between someone’s legs from behind, sliding you against their chest.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment, Kitty.” Ran whispers before he places kisses against your ear. The rumbling in his chest is evident of a pur causing you to jolt and try to remove his arms, only to get distracted by a force on your chin. Sanzu lowers his face, meeting his lips with yours as he kisses you passionately. His head slightly moves along with his lips as you feel a hand sneaking under your shirt.

Kazutora’s hand slithers up your stomach, using his fingers to caress your healing scars before slowly making his way to one of your breasts, all the while gazing at your face. You feel a squeeze on your thigh by Rin before he slides up to meet your core, only for you to move your legs and close his hand in between your thighs. You yank your head back from Sanzu.

“N-no! Eiichi!” You hear a couple of huffs before Rin tears your legs apart, Kazutora locking one in place with his arm. The older Haitani slides his hand down your thigh before diving into your pants. Sanzu moves a hand to lift your shirt slightly and places his hand on your other breast. You feel a finger sliding against your clit through your panties. It felt so conflicting to be horrified for your own safety, as well as mourning a death all the while feeling a sense of pleasure from the culprits who caused your pain in the first place. You truly didn’t know how to respond besides failing miserably at struggling against their holds.

One of the hands on your breasts disappears just as Sanzu reaches in his pocket. Pulling out a small baggie with a pink pill, he pours it in the palm of his hand before bending over on the nightstand and crushing half of it. He placed one on his tongue before grabbing your chin once more.

“Open up.” He squeezes your cheeks harshly to force your jaw open. He sets the last piece on his tongue before leaning over and connecting the slightly dissolved pill with your own tongue. Tightening his grip, he pulled you forward.

“Swallow it.” He released his tight grasp once you complied. A few minutes pass as they continue their groping, your body feeling the same as before until you begin to feel heavy. You could feel yourself leaning more against Ran as your body falls back.

“There ya go, kitty. Just relax.” His raspy voice purrs along with his finger making slow yet firm circles around your nub. A wet substance slowly oozes out of your vagina as the stimulation causes you to moan quietly. You lean your head back against his chest as sweat beads around the lining of your forehead.

“E-Eiichi…” You whine out as the memories overcome your mind, the drug in your system causing you to feel as though you’re flying through your mind, reliving the moment as tears begin to stream down your face.

“Hey.” You hear a soft voice as a palm covers your cheek, gently forcing you to make eye contact with Kazutora.

“Focus on me.” He all but whispers before he leans in, latching his mouth to yours as his lips move against yours. Feeling drowsy and drawn in, you return the gesture, lost in a trance and only focusing on him. The softness felt really nice against your own lips, the drug intensifying the motion. His thumb caressed your cheek as a purr rumbled from his chest. His claw lightly grazing your skin caused a shiver throughout your body.

You were so focused on the moment with Kazutora that you hadn’t noticed how Rin pulled your pants off or how Sanzu ripped your shirt and even pulled your arms out of your sleeves. You hadn’t realized that you were bare chested and only covered up with a pair of lace panties Kokonoi bought. It wasn’t until you felt movement against your clit once more, as well as something wet against one of your nipples.

Ran switched to rolling your other nipple between his index and thumb causing a shock throughout your body as you felt the pressure build from Rin intricately using his thumb to rub along your clit through your panties, his other hand spreading your left fold to gain better access, and Sanzu flicking his tongue against your nipple while holding it firmly, closing his lips around to give little sensitive pecks as well as sucking the bud.

It was overwhelming. Focused solely on their touches, you hadn’t heard your own moaning. You felt pathetic, coming undone and vulnerability revealed to all these beasts who treat you as though you're below them. It’s embarrassing. Your high made it all the more worse as you began to get distracted with your thoughts causing a bittersweet feeling to take on considering all the hands on you. The movement on your clit halts as a weight on the bed disappears for a moment.

“I’m going to try something.” Rin says as he walks from the nightstand to the bed, your half lidded gaze eyeing the suction vibrator in his hand once Kazutora released your face. Rin sets the object down before removing your panties, getting into position.

“Kinky.” Ran smirked, licking behind the rim of your ear before Rin pulled your body down slightly.

“Alright, Bunny open wide!” Rin beams with a closed eyed mischievous smile.

Kazutora and Sanzu take it upon themselves to pull your legs open wider. Rin leans into position before he presses the button until it reaches a medium setting. Using his index and thumb, he spreads your labia before setting the circular end around your clit. Your body immediately tensed, your hips lifted as your head fell back. You bite your lip as your hands grip Ran’s thighs.

“Damn, that’s so hot.” Rin breathes out, watching more juice flowing out of your vagina.

Mikey felt a tightness in his pants as he sat manspread while leaned back. His hand slowly slides over his own thigh before he palms his bulge, tightening his grip just enough to add a painless pressure to ease his throbbing erection. The whole display of you sprawled out naked between his men while responding to the sensual acts in such a filthy manner is enticingly sweet to his mesmerized yet tired gaze.

Rin removes the vibrator to allow you a small moment of relief, your breathing hard as you pant, limbs trembling. You watch as he turns the setting higher, shaking your head.

“No, no, no! Wait!” He ignored you and set the buzzing end back around your swollen bud. The buzzing sensation connecting with your clit could only be explained as an electrifying stimulation. It’s so intense that your body freezes as your hips lift once more, your nails digging through the fabric covering Ran’s skin as you grunt. Just as you thought it couldn’t get any more intense, the tiger and jaguar hybrids leaned over and latched their tongues against your nipples.

The drug heightened your sensitivity so you could barely think properly, your hips beginning to grind against the toy causing your clit to rub against the inside of the puckered end harder considering Rin moves the vibrator with your motion, meeting the base of your clit with the end of the opening.

“So fucking filthy.” Sanzu hissed after releasing your nipple.

“My king, can I?” His attention shifts to Mikey, awaiting permission to proceed with his request.

“You and Rin.” Mikey states considering they were the two who found her having escaped the bedroom and almost kissing Eiichi.

Ran and Kazutora groan before they pull themselves away from you. Their cocks are throbbing tight against their pants and they’re ready to feel your warmth engulfing them. It’s frustrating but at least it’ll be their turn at some point tonight.

Your body drops back on the bed as Rin removes the vibrator, edging you before setting it on the nightstand. Sanzu repositions you to where he’s lying under you, positioning his cock to your wet entrance. Lifting his hips, he used his hands to guide your hips down, your pussy slowly engulfing his thick girth, both of you releasing a moan as the head reached the g-spot as your thighs hit the base of his erection. The drug felt like an aphrodisiac, making everything feel ten times more intense though you knew that wasn’t its purpose.

He guides you to buck your hips against him slowly so you could adjust to his size to make everything easier. He pressed a hand against your upper back, pulling you to press your breasts against his chest. His legs spread under you, making space for Rin to crouch above you from behind. He rubbed the lube between his fingers against his cock, having already prepared while you and Sanzu became adjusted. You felt a firm pressure entering you from behind, your eyebrows furrowing as you grunt in pain.

“N-no! Take it out! I-it hurts!” You cry out, tears streaming down your face as you angrily fist Sanzu’s chest.

“Shh. Shhh.” He grabbed the back of your hand and placed it against his neck.

“Squeeze when you feel pain.” Your fingers wrapped snugly around his throat. You hadn’t wanted to comply, but the pain was so uncomfortable that you tighten your grip around his neck with a scrunched nose.

“Fuck.” He moans as a red hue appears on his face, his lips apart as his eyes flutter shut. He bit his lip right before thrusting into you deeper. His blue orbs bore into you with a glimmer in his eyes, his claws piercing the skin on your thighs.

His hips lifting caused a contrast between pleasure and pain. Rin pushes deeper as the pain of your tightness eases for him. He groaned before leaning over more and balancing himself against the bed. His hips move back before they push forward, repeating the process as his cock rubbed against your anal walls, creating a stinging fullness that added to the girthy cock inside of your pussy, rubbing along your vaginal walls as well as firmly kissing your cervix.

Your mouth hung open as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, using your legs to help push against their thrusts. Curses, moans, and whimpers echoed throughout the room as well as the rocking of the bed. The men on the side had their own hand wrapped around their cock, leaking because of the display in front of them.

The smacking of skin increases as they speed upthe pace, forming harsher thrusts as they all bring themselves closer to the edge. You couldn’t focus on anything but feeling full and being surrounded by breathy sounds of pleasure. Your eyebrows furrowed as the pit in your stomach rises, biting your lip as you all rutt harder against each other.

“Shit.” Kazutora hissed as his hand reached the base of his cock before pulling his hand around the head and focusing on the stimulation at the tip of his erection.

Ran’s hair falls on his face from sweat, his head lowered with his mouth parted as he rubs his closed hand against his throbbing length. He repeats the motion at a steady pace before speeding the process. Mikey has one hand flat on the base of his cock while the other one grips his girth, rubbing up and down but in a circular motion at a slower pace.

Finally reaching your peak, you felt the rise fall as your body convulsed, orgasming hard as a loud moan left your mouth. The men follow not long after, their loads releasing as they press themselves deep inside you before riding out their orgasms, moaning near your ears as they breathe heavily.

The men on the sidelines shot ropes as their own bodies tensed, rubbing out their orgasms as they made a mess on their own pants. Curses could be heard throughout the room as they finished up, their cocks re - erecting not long after.

“Y/n.” Mikey says as he pants. “Come clean me up.”

The night continued on as you had orgasm after orgasm from the men taking their turns with your body. The night was heavenly for your fix in the moment, lapping up the attention and pleasure desperately. It wasn’t until your collar was hooked around your neck, followed with a cuff on your ankle that you realized the reality of your placement here. It reminded you of how much of a worthless animal you are to them.

Who knew that one night of passion could turn into multiple nights of you becoming some drugged up sex toy for their own pleasure. Their heats were the worst, becoming so rough with you as if they’re releasing their pent up rage. You couldn’t stop thinking of Eiichi. The way he made you feel normal again and the haunting memory of how he died. You found yourself more and more depressed and eager for a chance of true release.

A year passed and there was a night where you found out about a type of drug from one of the human staff members. It used to be a legal medication specifically made for cat hybrids to consume and become less aggressive and more docile. It also helped them fall asleep faster. Whenever you received the medication, you gave it to the human cook you became friends with who dropped a pill in each of their drinks during dinner before they made it back.

When they consumed the drug, it was quite entertaining. You sat on the couch in the living room instead of the floor while Mikey rubbed his face against your neck as he straddled you, nuzzling against your skin with his ears forward. Sanzu sat beside you sniffing the opposite side of your neck, ears straight up as he licks the skin. You feel Kazutora nuzzling against one of your legs with his arms wrapped around the limb. Ran is knocked out next to you, sleeping in a fetal position with his feet closest to you, tail lying over his own hip. Rin sits with his legs wrapped around your other leg while licking the skin on the back of his hand, grooming himself.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at their clinginess though when you realized your reality you began to think that there was nothing funny about this situation. You called one of their oblivious guards, who thought they just took a new drug they had provided themselves, to walk in to help you remove themselves so everyone can go to bed. When the hybrid snake tried to grab your arm, Mikey’s eyes sharpened before he hissed and used his claws to scratch the snake’s face. His tail rattled in response as he hissed in pain, his hands holding his bloody face as you eye the display in bewilderment.

This will definitely make it easier to escape.

Ran woke up from the commotion just as all of the cats bared their fangs ready to attack as their tails thrashed and ears flattened on their heads. Narrowing their eyes they all dash away from their spots, pouncing on the guard as he yells out in pain. You eye the display but don’t bother to help, waiting patiently as they finish though you look away from the disturbing scene and cover your ears. After they slaughter the man to death, they sleepily walk away, walking with you as you guide them to each of their bedrooms.

After all was done, they were knocked out cold from the drug. You gathered a random bag with necessities and threw the collar you had set on the nightstand in a trash can. You climbed out from the back of the first story’s window, beginning the journey to your new life.

The next day came crashing for the men, Sanzu being the first to know of your absence. Chaos reigned throughout the morning meeting as they took their rage out on irrelevant staff members and guards, wreaking havoc on those who let you slip from their radar. The other executives only stared at the display with blank looks as they watched, only thinking about their next move to find you for the sake of their boss’s and fellow executives’ sanity.

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

PRINCESSES DON’T ACT LIKE THIS

Pairing - Emmett x fem!reader

Summary - Emmett stumbles across your cam account and has contradicting thoughts on it. He’s angered that you’re doing it but can’t help but to watch it in secret. Until he gets a notification when you’re visiting home that spikes his emotions and primal needs.

Warnings - Dubcon, pervert step dad, daddy kink, webcam sex, p in v, oral m! receiving, degrading.

Word count - 2.4k

It was all because you foolishly forgot to log out of your email account on the computer. 

Emmett’s eyebrowed scrunched as a particular email caught his eye as he finger hovered over the logout button. A receipt to your bank account from a website called CamLust. His skepticism grew as he hovered over the link and pressed it. A heavy gasp left his lips as he saw a sweet photo of you to your camgirl account. 

2SexyPrincessOnCam. 

It made his blood boil. Emmett’s little princess, fucking whoring herself around to pervy strangers. Emmett grunted when he saw that he needed to make an account to take a peek at your full account. He had never felt this way about you before, but now he felt like he had been missing out on so much of you. In a clumsy manner, he rushed to make an account and huffed at your sneak peaks. You were clothed, hardly. In the majority of your pics, you wore matching lingerie sets of pastel colors. Always on your knees, mouth ajar open, wide eyes. 

His eyes widened when he heard the door open and quickly shut down the computer. 

“Daddy?” You called out sweetly as you walked inside, smiling gleefully to him. 

Emmett only grunted his greeting and stormed off to his room, too infuriated to look at you. But also too hard to be in close radius of you, he feared he’d act animalistically. So with the door locked, he easily caved into his primal needs and completely forgot about his morality. As he jerked off to the thought of you, he whined to the guilt of it all. Yes, you were an adult, but hardly so. But you weren’t actually his daughter. 

Was this all of a result of your mother abandoning you both? Emmett thought he was doing a good job, raising his ex wife’s daughter. Your mother ran away a few years ago with a younger man, she had no shame in abandoning you, her only daughter. Unfortunately Emmett had to pick up your broken pieces and his own and try his best to fix you. But you were an adult now and completely capable of making your own decisions. 

You were in community college now, just under an hour's drive from home. Even though you stayed on campus, you liked to catch the train down to see Emmett most weekends. He had become a lonely man since your mother left and you hated the thought of him being all by himself most days. 

But he avoided you for the remainder of the weekend and you couldn’t help but to be overwhelmed that you had done something to upset him. You left with a stiff hug, his nostrils flaring as you held onto him. 

Emmett grunted out, your live stream on the computer with his throbbing lube coated cock in his right hand. Over the webcam, you touched yourself in the shower. Yes, he had subscribed to your account. Because he just wanted to make sure you were okay. It had been a couple of weeks now, and it infuriated him with how frequent you went live. 

DaddyE - Such pretty tits princess.

You smiled seductively at the notification of his tip and your hands slowly ran up to your soapy breasts. “Want a private show?” You teased, your fingertips running circles around your nipples. 

Emmett coughed as he slowly typed his response, his strokes slowly down. 

DaddyE - Of course princess. 

The next day, you smiled seductively as the call connected. The opposing screen was turned off, it was typical for that to occur. “Hi daddy…” You greeted slowly, your tongue rolling over your teeth. “I’ve noticed your tips for a couple of weeks” you continued on, your hands slowly trailing over your baby pink bralette. Already, you had no panties on. Dirty whore.  

DaddyE - I want to spoil my princess.

“No mic?” You cocked an eyebrow.

DaddyE - No princess, not today. 

Emmette couldn’t risk you recognising his voice, even though there was nothing more that he wanted to do besides moan in climax together. As he slowly stroked himself, he breathed in and out in a heavy manner. Because even though he knew he had you all to himself right now, you didn’t know that. All you knew was that he was a fucking creep jerking off to your pretty tits. 

“What do you want me to do for you Daddy?” You asked softly, leaning closer to the camera. 

Slowly, Emmett typed out his command.  

DaddyE - Fuck yourself with that pretty pink vibrator of yours and beg me to take care of you

You giggled and picked up the pink vibrator and laid back on the bed, your lower body in complete view as you spread your thighs. A little moan of shock escaped your lips as you felt the vibrations run up your bundle of nerves. Gently your hips rocked in rhythm as you kept your eyes on the webcam. 

“Daddy… Please Daddy… Please look after me as I squeeze around your cock” you moaned out, biting onto your lower lip. 

As the level increased, so did your moans. Your hips rotated in the most graceful ways as you constantly licked your lips and batted your eyes to him. Even over the camera, Emmett could see how fucking soaked you were, he predicted that he’d be able to slip completely in. He scratched at his rough beard, the beard that he grew too lazily to shave ever since your mother left. 

At his order, you begged him to fuck you hard, to kiss every inch of your skin and to let you finish. The detail was painted beautiful as you told him how badly you wanted to feel him, completely inside of you. Of how you’d do anything to get a taste of his cock. As you reached the edge of climax, your eyes started to roll back. 

“Please take care of me Emm-” you abruptly stop yourself, a flash of fear crossed your expression as the vibrator slipped from your hand. 

Emmett’s hand squeezed his cock in shock. Did he hear that correctly? He leant forward in his seat and quickly smacked his fingers onto the keyboard. 

DaddyE - What was that princess?

But you quickly shifted the conversation. If Emmett wasn’t so fucking horny he would have demanded an answer. Swiftly after, the pair of you came in unison and you were more than eager to end the call. 

A couple of weeks later, you were staying over for the weekend and Emmett’s new behavior towards you remained the same. Distant and cold. But at the end of every night, Emmett felt bad for his sudden shift towards you. It wasn’t your fault, well not directly. A part of him wishes he never went through your emails. But nowadays Emmett was too afraid to be near you, he felt like a dog on a loose chain. 

Emmett crept inside, it was late and he still didn’t want to wake you. It was a coworker's birthday and he’d prefer to be out of the house instead of longing for you. So he spent the past couple of hours drinking cheap beer in the local bar, his thoughts contaminated with you. However, as he reached his room, he pulled his phone from his pocket and frowned at his recent notification. 

2sexyPrincessOnCam is now live. 

Did you leave back for campus early? Without saying goodbye to him… Oh not like he’d even give you a warm farewell.  He opened up the app on his phone, your naked body wasn’t what first caught your attention. Emmett frowned at the all too familiar cream wallpaper in the background. Followed by the cottage bed frame that he brought. 

That’s his last straw. 

As the huff ran up his chest like a dragon expelling fire, he strided to your bedroom, his body, soul and mind completely fueled by raging jealousy. The door swung open in a snap and you slammed your laptop shut just as quickly, so suddenly with force that the screen cracked. He stood in the doorway, his body twitching from anger as his teeth gritted together. 

“Daddy” you whimpered, already hiding under the blanket which you pulled up to your chest in an attempt to hide your exposed body. 

“In my own fucking home” he growled as he stepped heavily towards you, it made you pull the blanket up to your chin like a frightened animal. “In the fucking bed that I brought you” he lectured, closing the distance in, his fists balled.

“Em-”

“No… Daddy” he corrected you in a stern manner, pointing his finger at you. 

You were his, and it was time he made sure you knew that. Enough of these games, enough of his despair. It was time he taught his princess her place in his world. 

“Daddy… M’sorry” you whimpered, your lower lip trembled as your eyes watered. 

Looking at your frightened state, he couldn’t help but to feel a wave of guilt crash over him. You just looked so helpless right now. As Emmett exhaled, he sat on the edge of the bed, his hand gently tugging against your hold of the blanket. 

“What are you sorry for princess?” His voice had lowered. 

The anger in his tone had softened as his eyes lingered over your bare shoulders. The blanket was still covering your chest, your shaking hands refusing to let it lower anymore. Your eyes darted around the room anxiously as he stared at you sternly. 

“For being a dirty little whore under my roof?” Emmett continued, his head tilted as he patiently waited for you to answer him. 

“Yes daddy!” You whined out, your expression full of complete embarrassment.

You blubbered out as your body curled under the sheets. To comfort you, Emmett rubbed your flustered cheek slowly. For a few minutes, he let you cry out your shameful behavior, emotions and thoughts. 

“My naughty princess…” Emmett tutted as your tears slowed down, his fingers tugged against your hold more sternly. 

“W-what are you doing?” You whimpered out as he forcefully yanked the blanket down, your tits exposed to him.

When you went to cover yourself with your arms, Emmett clicked his tongue and raised his finger in warning. As if his blue eyes were glued onto your breasts, he thought deeply as his tongue rolled over his lips. Under his dark stare, you were frozen in the bed, the only movements of your body was how hard you were gulping and your skin trembling. Abruptly, Emmett stood up, his hand combing through his hair. 

“Come on, show me how you do it” Emmett demanded, his hips flexing towards your head. 

“W-what?” You stammered, your eyes shifting from his face to his tent in his jeans. 

“Show me how you please cock princess” Emmett clarified as he took off his belt. 

“Daddy?” You asked unsurely, fresh tears dripping down your cheeks. Suddenly, he leant down to you, your faces inches apart. 

“Yes, Daddy” Emmett praised in a condescending manner, tapping your cheek harshly. “Come on, where’s that dirty girl that I’ve been watching?” he cooed causing your eyes to widen fully. His straight posture returned as he pushed his jeans down to his knees.   

He squeezed his bulge in his boxer as he shuffled as close to your face as he could. Hesitantly, you straightened your back and your hand trembled over his lower stomach, underneath his worn out shirt. He smiled at your timidness, the little princess he knew. 

Your eyes kept on shooting up to him, afraid you’d make a mistake. Gradually, your hand rubbed against his clothed cock, followed by you tugging his boxers down. His hairy cock sprung out, almost whacking your cheek in the process. You gulped at his massive size and Emmett lightly gulped at the remembrance of his lack of grooming. But oh well, he could shave for you later. 

There was no denying the initial moan as you wrapped your hands around the base. Emmett’s eyes fluttered as you slid onto your knees on the mattress and took him into your mouth. 

“My naughty princess” Emmett groaned, his hands massaging your scalp as he encouraged you to take him deeper. “Princesses don’t act this way, I should really be calling you a dirty whore” he spat, thrusting his tip to the back of your throat.   

You gurgled around his thick member, struggling to hold your balance on the soft grounding. When your scared eyes raised up to him, he smiled at you. 

“Want me to call you a whore from now on?” He smirked, slipping his cock out of your mouth. 

“No Daddy!” You cried out as he flipped you onto your back, the impact took your breath away momentarily. 

Quickly, Emmett pulled his shirt up from over his head and kicked off his boots. After he took off his jeans and boxers, he pounced on top of you animalistically. His lips attacked your neck and chest like a starved beast. 

“Then no more shows for perverts aye?” He questioned, but by the tone you knew it was a demand. 

“Yes Daddy!” You agreed, your walls clenching as Emmett humped his hips against yours. 

The mixture of his moans with your whines was music to his ears. The way your limbs flinched whenever he touched an uncharted area of your skin made his cock twitch like a headless chook. When the head of his cock rubbed against your entrance, he growled like a wolf at how soaked you were. 

As he lined up his size without your verbal consent, he pressed his lips to your jaw. “If you needed money, you should have come to me” he sighed, slowly sliding his tip into your tight cunt. 

“I’m sorry Daddy! I didn’t- I didn’t-” You stammered out, your heart pounding in your chest. 

The thoughts were clear in your head but the words were coming out as mush. Emmett chuckled and gradually pushed himself in until he was completely buried inside of you. Both of your bodies relaxed momentarily. As your body surrendered to him by your legs wrapping around his waist, he took your hands and pinned them above your heads. 

“Pure intention, but poor execution aye?” He commented, slowly thrusting himself in and out of you. You whined, the reaction of a mixture of your thoughts and natural responses. 

“Yes Daddy! I didn’t-” you’re cut off by Emmett suddenly smacking your rear. 

“Hush… We’ll talk about it later, alright princess?” He decided. Your mouth wobbled, uncertain of what would be in store for you. He picked up on your expression and sighed.  “Don’t worry, Daddy’s going to take great care of you” he assured, kissing you passionately. 

When the kiss broke but his vicious pumps continued on, the both of you were panting. 

“I love you Daddy” you confessed through teary eyes. 

“I love you too princess” he hissed out, rubbing his forehead against yours.

[hysteria-things]

I also have another idea (if ur comfortable) where like chris is ghost face and reader doesnt know but like she kinda catches him coming home after killing? idk then they like have sex IDKK JS PLEASE HAVE GHOST FACE CHRIS SEX PLS.

GHOSTFACE

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you uncover your boyfriend’s deepest darkest secret…

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY, swearing, mentions killing, anxiety, blood, arguing (?), chasing, oral (female receiving), degradation, hair pulling, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,479

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: for pookie @imwetforyourmom :)

i hope it’s okay that he’s not in the mask when it’s happening but it’ll make sense when you read i promise😭

i’m brewing up A LOT right now i’m so stoked.

chris wasn’t next to you when you woke up, but you’re not surprised. he and his brothers tend to do things late at night because of their work, which makes sense because all three of them are night owls. you, however, are not.

on this particular night, you felt quenched. you get up from under the covers and walk your way to the kitchen in your shared house with your boyfriend. you grab a bottle out of the fridge and start drinking it, then your eyes land on chris’ backpack that’s next to the couch.

he always brings that with him, so he either just got home or forgot it. you shrug and continue to down the cold water, but then you hear the water start running in the bathroom.

you nod your head, taking a mental note that he did indeed just come home. as you start to walk back into the bedroom, a shine of white glistens from the moonlight. you turn your head to it and see that it’s coming from chris’ bag. it’s open ever so slightly.

curiosity gets the best of you, and you kneel to unzip it fully. your breath catches in your throat.

there have been murders happening in towns around you, but you never thought about them because the town you’re living in is very keen on security. you felt safe here.

the news calls the culprit ghostface because of the mask they wear, and that stupid mask does tend to creep you out every time you see it. the way it’s droopy just never sat right with you.

that so-called stupid mask is staring back at you, some blood is still left on it. you can’t help but stare at it, your breathing quickens the more you do so. you have to be dreaming, right?

but you know you aren’t. you grip the mask and march your way to the bathroom, not bothering to knock. instead, you burst through the door. you gasp at the sight in front of you.

chris is standing at the sink, dressed in all black as blood coats his hands and cheeks. it must’ve seeped through the outfit. his hair is messy, his eyes glancing down at the mask in your hand. thinking he’d be mad that you went through his stuff, you stay silent, waiting for an explanation. he smirks instead.

“is this some sick fucking joke?” you scream, gripping the object in your hand even tighter. you can’t fathom what’s happening right now.

“hi, ma.” he greets, turning the water off and walking to you to kiss you on the cheek. “you’re up late.” he carelessly takes the mask from you and walks out into the living room.

you snarl. he’s always been a cocky mother fucker.

out of rage, you go charging at him. “what the fuck, chris?” you say as you push him. he doesn’t go far though since he’s much stronger than you.

he chuckles and turns to you. is it fucked up that seeing him like this makes you more attracted to him?

you shake the thought out of your mind. stupid y/n. what’s wrong with you?

“what… the fuck?” you repeat, this time breathing heavier. tears start to trickle in your eyes. “i can explain.” he says.

you flare your nostrils at him, silently telling him to continue. your boyfriend of a year and a half has been lying to you, and you want an answer now. “i’m not the only one, you know. nick makes the calls, i do the killing, and matt deals with the bodies.”

you pity laugh. “this is crazy.” you run your fingers through your hair. what you feel right now is complicated. yeah, you’re scared, but not of him.

“i didn’t think it was important to tell you.” he continues. “we’ve been perfectly fine without you knowing.”

he cannot be serious.

“you didn’t think it was important to tell me?” you laugh again. “you’re fucking insane.”

you run for the front door and open it, speed walking down the porch steps. “where are you going?” chris calls out.

“anywhere. you are fucking crazy, chris.” you have no other words to say except something along the lines of that.

you hear his footsteps start to follow you, and this time you bolt it. “y/n, seriously? come back!”

the rookie mistake you made was running into the woods that are across from your house. you weren’t thinking, you just needed to run.

you don’t know where you are as you keep running, becoming out of breath from running for so long. arms wrap around your waist and twirl you around. you squeal, clawing at their arms and hands. “get off me!” you kick behind you.

“y/n, relax.” chris says, dodging your hits as you try to squirm free of his grasp. eventually, you stop fighting and let him hold you.

he turns you around so you can face him. “do you think i’d ever hurt you?” he asks.

you shake your head because it’s true. it’s not like you don’t love him anymore. you still do. “but how—”

“shh.” he shushes, taking his red-tinted hands and cupping your face with them to pull you into a kiss.

he leaves a kiss on your jaw before turning you around, your front side leaning on a tree. he takes his pointer finger and reaches under your nightgown. he smirks when he’s greeted with your bare core. “no underwear?” he teases.

you whine, pushing back on his finger. your pussy is aching for more touch. he kneels, getting a full view of your glistening folds. you gasp when you feel his tongue start lapping slowly.

he’s going painfully slow, so you whine and grind your hips back. he gets the memo and works his tongue faster, your hips still grinding to match the direction he’s going for more pleasure.

when his nose starts to touch your clit, you moan out a swear. chris starts sucking when he finds the right spot. you grip the bark of the tree and throw your head back. “right there, chris. fuck.”

your legs start to twitch when your orgasm rips through you, spreading your juices all over his tongue. he continues licking until there’s no cum left, and you whimper at the sensitivity.

you hear him unbuckle his jeans. they plop at his ankles, and he scrunches your nightgown to the small of your back and holds it there with one hand.

he moves your hair to the side so he can whisper in your ear. “i wonder what people would think of you.” he starts to go into you, and you gasp at the feeling. “not only dating the famous ghostface killer but getting fucked like a whore by him as well.”

he says that as he thrusts just his tip. you let out a choked moan. “please.” you whine. “fuck me.”

chris pushes down the front of your pajamas so your tits bounce out. he’s still thrusting when he squeezes them with his unoccupied hand.

“come on.” you groan, getting impatient. “please.”

he sighs, placing his hand that was on your breasts to your throat, bringing your head back so it can lean on his shoulder.

a loud moan falls from your lips when he starts to fuck into you from behind. his eyes look at your face that’s contorting to pleasure with each thrust. even though it’s dark, the dry blood on his face is still visible, and you find it so hot.

tears come out of your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure. since you both are standing, the angle of his dick is upward and hits your g-spot repeatedly.

your eyes roll back, mouth hanging open as pornographic sounds are not only coming from your mouth but from the sounds of your pussy taking chris’ cock as if it was made for it.

“hugging my cock so well.” he coos. “you’re clenching, ma.”

a hoarse cry leaves you. “oh, f-fuck.”

your entire body shakes with ecstasy, your orgasm streaking down his shaft. he takes the hand that was on your throat and grabs your hair. “you gonna let me cum in you?” he pulls. “huh?”

you try your best to nod frantically with his grip on your head, sobbing out whines. “here it comes, slut.”

for his last thrust, he pulls out and slams back it, making sure you take all of his release.

he wraps his arms around you so you don’t fall. he’s still buried inside of you because the both of you need to catch your breath.

he finally pulls out of you slowly, letting out a shaky sigh when he looks at what he just did. “i think we both need a shower.” he says sheepishly, lifting you off of the ground and walking through the trees to get back to the house.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss

[fhrlclln]

hi, same person from the forbidden obsession qimir ask, i forgot to mention that i feel like age gap would also go good with that,(legal ofc!) like he is just so down bad for her and she is just always so sweet to him and is only devoted to him.

and when osha comes into the picture, like they’re in the cave talking scene, reader just walks in mid conversation and is just like “master, you should be resting!” because she is also solely devoted to him and osha just in disbelief, shocked looking upon the dynamics of them and how they are so close. like ugh <3

devotion | qimir

SUMMARY -> devotion is one word to describe his pupil, his sweet and caring devoted pupil. he would burn the world for her if she asked so, but he knew deep down what he was feeling was wrong. he couldn't help himself, could he?

qimir x acolyte!fem! reader

masterlist

GENRE -> slight-nsfw

WARNINGS -> possessive!qimir, master-pupil dynamic (fucked-up ver.), mentions of age-gap (legal), sexual thoughts, he's literally downbad af, violence & blood.

WC -> 1.7k

a/n: gHADDDD I WANT A POSSESSIVE QIMIR AS WELL. this req has me drooling! hope you liked it, anonz!! <3

likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreciated !! <3

enjoy !!

watching you fight for him has his blood going.

he watches you with hazy eyes as you bend down to swipe off a jedi that was attacking you from behind. your dual-saber is a sight to see of how you wield it with such precision all because of his teachings. you were aggressive in your offensive stance, placing no mercy upon the three jedis attacking you simultaneously. you defended yourself just like he expected you to, using your dual-wielded blade to block attacks while you would detach them to switch to massacring your opponents. all drop dead beneath your feet and a splatter of blood hits your cheek as your eyes darken. his heart beat loudly while he stood up slowly from where he was dropped by the umbramoths that attacked him, and your head immediately looked in his direction.

"master!" your eyes went from that menacing stare into a worried look. you switch off your sabers, tucking them back to your belt as you jogged towards him. oh, the way you call him master has blood rushing towards where he begged himself not to linger. he groans as he holds his hand up, and you stop before him.

"i'm fine." he grits his teeth as he adjusts his weakened arm, rolling it to ease the pain.

"you're not fine." you scold him, the ever-doting pupil you are. in this scenario, if someone else had said that to him, he might have just snapped their neck out of annoyance. but with you, he would always stay quiet and let you dote on him. it was his favorite thing you would do.

you stand near him, and your sweet scent envelops his nostrils. he lets out a long sigh when you touch his arm, but he winces when he feels a sharp pain. you immediately let go and he feels disappointed that your soft touch is gone.

"you need a bacta-patch, master. we should leave now." you suggested, and he stared at you for a moment, taking in your serene face that's splattered with jedi blood. he can't help himself but lift his weak arm up to swipe away the blood on your cheek despite the stinging pain.

"in a while, my acolyte." he says, and you stay silent, letting him caress your face. your eyes shimmer and he feels happy at that how you obey him. he still needs to find mae and the remaining jedi, sol, to kill in khofar. they had seen his face and his safety, especially yours is in danger. the thought of his other former pupil brings distaste to his mind. why couldn't she be like you? devoted only to him and him only. but he guessed that was what made you special... your devotion to him was his drug. and he will never let that drug be of another.

・゜゜・．

osha watches qimir bend down to taste the soup he's simmering in his cooking pot. she feels disarrayed, waking up in his home on this unknown planet he had taken her when she was unconscious. she thinks about taking his saber and killing him right here, but the only problem is you. his other pupil, she knows she should fear the sith before her, but his other pupil is what she fears the most as you had killed yord. snapping his neck with ease and carelessly dropping him to the ground that night in khofar. she pieced it together that you are severely loyal to qimir, and that loyalty and devotion frightens her.

luckily, you weren't in the cave yet. you had gone out to harvest some herbs and fish outside. if you were in the room, she might want to consider fleeing at the very moment, as qimir had said that she's apparently not a prisoner here. but she is curious about you more than your master... you look young, maybe a year or two younger than her and mae, and she wonders when did you became his pupil. she gathers the courage to ask the man before her.

"your other pupil... how old is she?" she asks him as he looks at her with a sudden serious look.

"why do you ask?" qimir raises a brow.

"just answer it." he stands up, defensive he is that osha's asking about you. of course, it was a harmless question, but he feels like a lot of people are asking about you these days, and it annoys him. first, it was yord, when you were beside him in disguise in the apothecary, the jedi knight had immediately been drawn to question you. he considered choking the jedi right there for how close he was to interrogating you. second, it was a random drunk local in the streets of olega, asking your name and striking up a flirty conversation. that made him almost punch the poor guy in the plaza. he didn't want anyone talking to you... you were his and he will keep that attention of yours to him.

"a year older than mae and you." he answers shortly, your age was something else that had him going crazy if his feelings for you were right. you are his pupil and he is your master. the lines blur at that for him for his strong emotions for you. but you are somewhere maybe 8 or 10 years younger than him. not that it was big deal... you are an adult.

"so she was your pupil first before mae?"

"yes." he smiles at that, remembering how you were the only pupil that had seen his face than his cortosis helm for how he had seen how loyal you are to him. "my only devoted one."

osha shivers at that, feeling like this master-pupil dynamic was something else. she can't help but feel pity for you that you are placing your loyalty to a cruel, sick-headed murderer like him. what was it that made you be like this to him? what did he made you see that you're devoting your whole life to a man, who clearly would kill anyone in his way.

"then why take me here? if you have such a devoted pupil." osha hardens her tone, skeptical of his intentions now. qimir shrugs, extending his hand out to give her a bowl of stew.

"mae and her would always train together. a pity that your sister betrayed us. she was very fond of her." her eyes widened at his answer. was that truly it? that he brought her here just for you? somehow, she feels like the most devoted one in the room between you and him is him.

"you are insane-"

"master? shouldn't you be resting?" your voice interrupts osha's insult towards him. qimir grins as osha takes the bowl from his hand, not wanting to meet your gaze. you had a scolding look on your face as you placed your basket on the side, heading towards him. he feels his chest swell with giddiness when you near him.

"i am." his tone is light and osha observes the moment before her. how close you are with him, it surprises her. you roll your eyes as you check the bacta-patch on his arm.

"i thought i said i would take care of osha." you pout at him and he stares at your lips. osha suddenly feels uncomfortable, seeing how caring you are to this monster she views him as, and he's clearly looking at you with much more than a master should look at his pupil. not noticing osha's uncomfortable gaze, there's a moment of silence wherein you just examine his arm while he stands there, a million of explicit images in his mind formulating from your touch. he almost wants to pull you in his arms how adorable you look right now.

his honey-dark brown eyes burns on you, he's actually amused how you don't notice him with how obsessed he is with you. that if you just say the word that you want the whole galaxy burning, he would do so for you. you were at his mercy, he would do anything for you... anything.

osha watches in her horror how his eyes are different all of the sudden. it's as if he wants to eat you alive- and maker, she doesn't want to guess another meaning of that. she gulps, standing up, interrupting your examination on his arm as you looked at her. his jaw ticks in annoyance as he throws a glare at osha for disturbing your bonding moment with him.

"i'm going to head out." osha places her bowl down and you nod at her. she quickly exits the room, feeling too uncomfortable to witness what just happened, even though it was just innocent in a manner.

"you scared her." you look to qimir. he grins, pulling you close to him. his annoyance fades away, seeing that you two are alone now.

"can't a man appreciate a woman's healing touch?" he teases and you blush at that. your oblivious nature isn't fooling him this time, he knows deep-down you know what he's feeling for you. and he hopes it would be reciprocated. his lips tickle your ear of how close he is, you stay silent, waiting for what he'll do next. his lips graze the tip of your ear and you place your hand on his lean chest.

"master... stop-"

"you were excellent in defending me. i should reward you." he cuts you off. "anything... just say anything and it's yours, my acolyte."

"i-" you don't know what to say when he's kissing the side of your face. "i want you."

his eyes turn dark and a malicious grin spreads across his charming face. you stare up at him, feeling his arms wrap around you. oh, the things he'll do to you.

"good." he says as he immediately surges downwards to capture your sweet lips to his. he devours you as you hold on his broad shoulders. the tent in his pants rubbed against your stomach makes him groan. your soft sighs of "master" and his name makes him feel like an animal in heat, and he cannot wait to devour you fully... he is yours forever and you...

his sweet, devoted, loyal pupil are his until the end of time.

[l0vergirlwrites]

but i’m here in your doorway ; steve harrington

synopsis: after another failed dinner with his parents, steve comes home to you feeling emotionally battered and bruised.

warnings: mentions of angst & anger, sad steve, established relationship with fem reader, mentions of parental issues (steve’s parents suck), story set between s3 & s4

the sound of the front door slamming shut was all steve heard, beside the ringing in his ears. his body felt like it was on fire from frustration & anger as he quickened to his car parked at the end of the driveway. as soon as he got inside, his hands went to his hair, gripping the strands tightly.

“fucking parents…” he cursed into the silence, flaring his nostrils as he tried to steady his breathing. it didn’t help much.

pulling the driver side mirror down to see the state he was in, his anger fluttered away for a moment when he saw a little note in your hand writing tucked into the mirror pocket.

i love you

steve carefully took the note out, running along the pen ink with his thumb. he didn’t know when you had stashed it there, but he didn’t know how much he needed it right now.

without a second thought, his foot was pressing the gas pedal & he was heading for your house on auto pilot, a wave of relief washing over him when he saw your house come into view minutes later.

tucking the note into his back pocket, he trekked to your front door & knocked, hoping you’d open it.

& when you did, steve couldn’t help but let his eyes well up with tears.

“hey…” you cupped his face without hesitation, worry settling over your features the more you looked at him.

“i know i didn’t call but—“

your arms were wrapped around him in seconds, a hand cradling the back of his head to let him know you didn’t care he didn’t call. you just wanted to make sure he was okay.

pressing his face into your neck, he choked out a sob, slowly wrapping his arms around your mid section. his muffled cries pulled at your heartstrings the tighter he held onto you, his body basically crumbling into your embrace.

it made you more worried.

“let’s go to my room, hmm?” you said softly once he settled down a little, pulling his head back so you could wipe his cheeks.

he mumbled your name through his sniffles, slowing feeling guilty for coming all this way without warning. but how could you turn him away like this?

“it’s okay, c’mon” you squeezed his hand & pressed a kiss to his temple, pulling him inside so you could lock the door.

you still held his hand as you led him up the stairs, your touch warm & comforting. he secretly hoped you’d never let go.

once you got to your room, steve sat on your bed, making himself busy as he took off his jacket & shoes. “i still got some of your clothes here, lemme find em” steve nodded at your words, silently watching you as you searching your dresser drawers for a shirt & sweatpants.

turning around with a sheepish smile, you held out an old hawkins gym shirt, the one he used to wear during basketball practice, & a pair of sweatpants that had the indiana pacers logo embroidered on the left pocket.

the clothes made steve let out a laugh for the first time in hours, taking the clothes from you with appreciation. “i forgot you had these”

“i always like having a piece of you around…” you mumbled as you sat next to him, rubbing his sweater covered shoulder. “go change. i’ll get you some water”

departing with another kiss to his temple, you left steve & made your way to your kitchen. he changed slow, eyes focused on the walls of your room as he slipped the shirt over his head & dragged the sweatpants over his legs. by the time he was done, he rubbed his nose with the back of his hand & caught sight of some new photos of you had taped to your wall.

walking closer to the new additions, steve felt his eyes well up with tears again. but good tears.

the photos you added were taken recently, some were taken on a film camera from a trip to a market you both took a few weeks ago. there was one of steve wearing a silly pair of sunglasses, rainbow coloured with rhinestones & feather accents. you convinced him to put them on.

a couple other photos were from summer time, with beach days & ice cream stained shirts or drive ins & red vines.

“i just got those developed yesterday. i have some extras for you if you want” your voice made him turn around, unable to stop that warm feeling in his chest to stop growing when he saw a glass of water & a couple of snacks in your hands.

“yeah,” he rasped. “i’d like that”.

walking over to the bed, you handed him the glass once he sat down, resuming your position next to him with a hand on his shoulder.

“do you wanna talk about it?” you asked when the glass was half full, eyes locked on steve’s face. “you don’t have to. i don’t wanna pry” you added in case, & steve was appreciative. he handed you the glass, & you placed it on your nightstand before turning your attention back to him.

taking your free hand in one of his, steve looked at you in the amber light of your room. “you’re not prying, promise” he assured you. “it’s my parents… they don’t get me. & it really sucks”

you hummed in understanding, empathetic because you knew the shit he had to deal with whenever they came home—which was rare but brutal.

“i feel like they don’t want to know me. & i don’t meet their stupid standards, & my dad—“ he breathed in hard, causing you to squeeze his hand in encouragement. “i don’t want to be like him—i-i’m scared i will”

his shoulders dropped again, his head following suit. with his eyes shut, he tried to compose himself, but your voice brought him back. “steve, trust me. you’re nothing like him, baby” you said as you ran your fingers through his hair.

“you care so much about everyone, & you put your life on the line all the time whenever something goes wrong. you have courage, something your dad wishes he had” he nodded at your words, sucking in a deep breath.

brushing your thumb across his cheek, you called his name softly. “… look at me for second, please” & he obliged.

his brown eyes looked right into yours, his cheek leaning into your palm.

“without you, the kids—hell, even i—wouldn’t know what to do if you weren’t here. you’ve stepped up to help us more times than i can count, & even let a bunch of russians beat you to a pulp so they wouldn’t hurt dustin & erica. that’s because you’re selfless, which makes you nothing like him”

steve couldn’t understand how you could see right through him like this, how much you’ve noticed in the short span of knowing him. you saw him for who he was, not for who you wanted him to be—unlike his parents.

“you are so special to me, & i love you—“

he couldn’t hold it in anymore, so he pressed his lips to yours & kissed you hard. one of his hands smoothed over your thigh, & the other gripped your t-shirt. the kiss felt emotional, & it made him want to cry, knowing how much you loved him. you pulled away first, pressing your forehead into his while your nose nudging his own. “steve—“

“thank you”

you opened your eyes, unsure of what he meant. “for what, baby?”

“for knowing me” he said when he opened his eyes, nudging his nose against yours with a sad smile. “no one has ever known me like you do… you just see me—& i love you more for it”

you couldn’t hide your smile as you leaned into him more, feeling overwhelmed with so much love & warmth—all for him.

“you’re the best person i know, harrington. don’t forget that”

& with that you kissed him again, hoping it could patch up his emotional wounds. hoping he would understand that he’s worth it, & that he deserves you.

[slxtarchive]

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬. ᥫ᭡ 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬. you and chris have been best friends since you were younger but one night changes everything…

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭. would you be down to write about chris and the reader are best friends who hookup and he confessed that he wants them to be more? — anon

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 soft smut, loss of virginity, mentions of blood. 18+ mdni !

𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬. this is part one of the request! the reason it took a while is because i wanted to get both parts out at the same time! hope you enjoy :)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭. 2.2k+

PART 1. PART 2.

“you stayin’ the night tonight?” chris asked with a glimmer of hope in his voice. the nights where you stayed were his favorite because you’d both stay up for hours just talking and messing around. reminiscing and watching movies. your favorite thing to do together was binge-watch movies and shows.

“i gotta see because i have class in the morning.” you huffed. “he did say something about possibly canceling but he hadn’t said anything yet.”

“well, maybe you can still stay and if he doesn’t end up canceling then you can go and we can go out for lunch afterward. most of your stuff is here anyway.” he gestured to his closet. he was right. you practically had half of your wardrobe in his closet so there wasn’t a need to go back home and get anything. you even had your own toothbrush and shit.

“i mean, yeah sure. who knows maybe i can skip.” you said mischievously earning a laugh from him.

“yeah… like you’d skip.” he went to turn off his room like before lay down on his bed and turned on his bedside lamp.

“i would.” you stated, jumping onto his bed and falling down onto your back right next to him.

“you hardly ever skipped in high school! miss all straight a’s.” he rolled his eyes. “hardly ever did anything.. how do you say. bad girlish.”

“oh and you did so much?” you propped yourself up in your elbow to look toward him.

“i mean, i would skip and shit.” he shrugged. “but i also took care of my shit like grades n’lacrosse.”

“the only reason you skipped was because you were hooking up with that one girl. i forgot her name but she was so mean!” you scoffed at the mention of her.

“we never hooked up! we just made out in her car.” he defensively said.

“oh really? what about homecoming when she practically shouted to the whole world that you two had sex.” you raised your brows. “she’d even mimic how she sounded too. blech; she disgusted me.”

he furrowed his brows. “we never did anything. she tried to but i turned her away.” he stated.

“wait so you’re still a virgin? you didn’t even hook up with that other girl you were close with?” you looked down at your nails.

“nah.. i'm serious they kind of all creeped me out.” he shook his head. the news did sort of come as a shock to you considering all the talk you had heard in high school but in reality, deep down you knew that chris wasn’t like that.

“what about you though? you talked to that one guy..what was his name? caleb or something.” his nostrils flared.

“oh fuck that guy. he tried to do shit with me but he was so fucking weird i was like no thank you.” you waved off. “i always felt that he carried at least five fucking diseases on him.” you laughed earning one from chris too.

“wow, so we're both virgins. learn something new every day huh.” he said, his voice getting quieter.

you looked at chris with a smile on your lips feeling somewhat happy that no one’s gotten that part of him yet. when thinking about if they did or not you felt a jealous sting — like usual.

“yep.” you pursed your lips.

chris licked his bottom lip shamelessly staring at yours. he blinked slowly. “i’m glad no one got that part of you.. yet.”

“yet?” you asked, confusion laced in your tone. you studied his eyes, the only thing illuminating the room was the lamp on the table by his bed. the lighting highlights certain features of his face.

“do you want it to happen with someone you trust, y/n?” his breathing picked up. you could audibly hear it as the room was silent.

“i mean… id definitely hope so.” you said quietly. you hadn’t noticed how close chris got until his hand moved some hair out of your face. he wanted to be able to see your beautiful eyes and pink lips.

“yeah?” was all he said. the heat of his body was making its way toward yours. your stomach was twisting and turning. it was doing jumping jacks and was inhabited by butterflies.

“chris?” your voice pierced the silence; barely below a whisper.

“mm?” he responded, as he studied your face and the way your eyes glanced at his lips. that was all he needed to see before he leaned forward and connected your lips in a small kiss.

he started off slowly, not wanting to scare you. he wanted you to kiss him back. you were in shock. you let him kiss you for a few seconds before you started moving your lips along with his.

he pulled away once you started to kiss him back. you leaned forward trying to reconnect your lips but he pulled back with a grin. he then leaned forward, your lips connecting just slightly before he pressed them onto yours once again.

his hand came up to the back of your neck pulling you closer to him allowing him to deepen the kiss and fortunately for you — to take control.

the further he pressed, the more you were inclined to lean back causing you both to settle into a comfortable position where you were on your back and chris was on top of you.

you were addicted to the way he tasted. the way he sensually moved his lips with yours. the way when you both ran out of breath and had to pause chris couldn’t for long and was practically gripping your waist showing he wanted more.

this went on for minutes before he made the move to trail his soft kisses down your neck. your eyes fluttered open as if to try to differentiate whether you were dreaming or not — you weren’t. chris was 100% kissing down your neck, sucking lightly on your skin to mark you. his marks were closer to your collarbone but still not to where they won’t be visible.

chris was worried when he thought about how you might feel if he marked you up for people to see. in his dream world you wouldn’t mind it because they were from him but it was something you two would need to talk about; or at least he hoped.

the sweatshirt that you were wearing was getting in the way of his lips making a trail down further so he paused to ask, “can i take this off?” he said breathlessly — sounding like a total dream.

“mhm.” you responded, just as breathless as he was. you were so needy you took the action into your own hands as you sat up. he moved back to give you space before helping you with your sweatshirt.

you both took it off before you threw it aside. he stared down at you admiring your beauty. he got a weird feeling in his stomach. he didn’t know what it meant in the moment but he’d find out.

you wanted him to kiss you already so you pulled him by his shirt to connect your lips again. he moaned at the contact, starting to feel uncomfortable in his clothes around his lower area.

“you’re so beautiful.” he thought out loud against your lips.

you blushed resting your hands in his fluffy hair. “chris.” you whimpered very needy. you were fiddling with his shirt.

“yeah baby?” he let the name slip out. you liked it.

“need you.” you felt your arousal more than ever — it made wearing underwear uncomfortable.

“yeah?” he grinned lifting up your shirt. you took the gesture as a sign so you quickly took it off leaving you in your black bra. “how bad?” his voice was so soft and sexy. you wanted to hear it all the time.

“so bad.” you took your turn lifting up his shirt. he looked down watching you struggle. “cmon, please.” you begged lifting this shirt up more.

“okay okay.” he gave in and took his shirt off throwing it to the side. he then combed your hair back with both hands before grabbing your face pulling it toward him placing kisses all over your face. “always thought you were so pretty.” he murmured. he was drunk on you. on your taste.

“show me how pretty i am.” you trailed your hands up and down his chest. you stared at each other longingly before he connected your lips once more.

you both had another make-out session before you were on your back with him on top. he put on a condom he had pulled out from the depths of his closet and you both were ready.

“tell me if it hurts okay?” he wanted to make sure you both communicated. he wanted to make this memorable for you without hurting you too much. “i don’t know how long i’ll last, baby.”

“it’s okay it’s okay.” you murmured. “i’ll tell you if i need a break okay?”

he nodded kissing you once more before lining himself up. he gently pushed into you slowly groaning at how tight but smooth at the same time your pussy was. “fuck” he groaned at the same time you did.

“shit — ” you winced, the burn was like a kick to the stomach. “slow slow.” you repeated almost out of air.

“okay, baby im sorry. fuck.” chris hated seeing you in pain.

“just let me get used to it.” you breathed in and out. it was going to be okay. you would get used to him. is what you told yourself. well, you had hoped. he was a bit big.

time past and you and chris communicated until he bottomed out.

you had tears in your eyes as the stinging slowly went away. you felt so full. you couldn’t believe that your best friend's dick was inside you. he was full on inside you.

you opened your eyes that had been clenched shut to see chris holding back moans. he was biting his lip stopping himself from trying to move.

“okay, i think im ready.” you spoke up. he looked down at you and then at your bodies together.

“you sure?” he wanted to make sure that you weren’t accommodating to him.

“yes, im sure.” you nodded before connecting your lips again.

“m’gonna go slow,” he muttered against your lips earning a nod from you. he slowly started pulling out of you then pushing back in earning a loud whine from you. the sting was still there.

chris on the other hand was in a state of euphoria. he couldn’t believe this was happening. his sleek hair fell over his forehead as he was thrusting in and out of you slowly.

after a few times, he repeated his actions, and your pain started to form into pleasure. your mouth fell agape as you felt the first wave of pleasure make its way up your body. you felt chris hit a spot in you that had you going feral.

“h-holy fuck chris.” you gasped as one of his thrusts were particularly strong. he looked down at you with a concerned look on his face.

“mm — m’sorry sorry. just feels so good.” he whimpered, the noise sending you butterflies and chills throughout your body.

“faster.” was all you said as your hand was trailing over his back. you tried not to dig your nails in as he picked up his pace with a cheeky smile on his face but each thrust caused your nails to drag up his spine — knowingly giving him red marks. “so good. so good.” you repeated.

“god, i’m gonna fucking cum.” chris moaned, combing his hair back to allow you to see his expression for a split second. the picture was burned into your brain. chris was sweaty with his eyebrows furrowed. his lips red and irritated from the amount of times he’s bit them to hold back his moans. his eyes clenched shut because of the pleasure he was receiving.

the sight alone had the rubber band in your stomach on the brim of snapping. “chris… fuck chris. im gonna cum.” you cried as his thrusts got rougher by the second as he chased after his orgasm.

“go on, baby. let go for me, yeah? please, i need it.” he puffed out, winded. what really drove you to the edge was when chris reached a hand down toward your center and ghosted over your clit. he then brought his middle finger and ring finger to where you both were connected and collected the arousal from you both combined before slathering it on your clit and stimulating you at a rapid pace. your legs started shaking as you immediately felt yourself about to give in.

your eyes clenched as your hands grasped the sheets below you before arching your back — your orgasm hit you like a wave of intense euphoria. you let out a spurt of whimpers and moans. your own orgasm had chris’s following shortly.

“shit! oh my fucking god.” his hips stuttered as he tried to ride out his orgasm as best as he could which was tough because of how tight you were clenching him.

your chest ended up pressed against each other as he was laid on you, breathless and unable to move for a split second. there was only one thought that ran through chris’s mind when he came to his senses and that was ‘i’m in love with y/n.’

he had to find a way to tell you.

© slxtarchive

[moonstruckme]

This with player!sirius black

Hi! I assume you meant Sirius was the one sending the first text? So I hope this is okay :)

cw: alcohol, vomit mention (no description)

modern au

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 980 words

You stumble out onto the street and right into a pair of tattooed, surprisingly strong arms. 

“Fuck,” two voices say at the same time. One is yours, and the other…you look up, and a piece of dark velvety hair brushes your cheek as you meet slightly widened gray eyes. 

“Sirius.” His name comes out nearly without vowels, all strung together like one long s. “What’re you doing here?” 

“Hey, gorgeous.” He hoists you up a bit in his arms so you’re more on your feet. You don’t use them, though, content to let your weight rest on him for the moment. “You texted me to come.” 

You feel your face screw up. “I did?” 

Sirius’ mouth does that thing. He always looks like he has a little smile tucked in the corner, kept secret for now but constantly ready for deployment. It twitches. He grips you tighter against him, freeing one hand to dig in his pocket. 

“See?” 

You recoil from the bright light of his screen, squinting to read the messages. It takes all of your concentration, and by the time you muddle through it Sirius is looking down at you with a funny mix of humor and concern. 

“Oh,” you say. “I forgot.” The corner of Sirius’ mouth kicks up. “I didn’t expect you to come, though.” 

You start to slip down his front, and he heaves you up again with a grunt.

“Yeah, well my night had started to wind down,” he says, in that disaffected way of his. It doesn’t bother you like it usually does; you’re too busy thinking about how out of all the things he could’ve done tonight, he came to you. “Figured I’d see what you were up to. Where were you running off to when I got here, huh?” 

You have to think for a bit. Then it comes to you, and you swallow thickly. “I came out here to be sick,” you admit. 

Sirius’ eyes widen and for a second you think he’s going to step away from you, but he doesn’t. “Yeah? You need me to find a bin?” 

You shake your head, swallowing again. “No, this is good.” You stumble away from him, bending over the gutter at the side of the street. 

The club’s bouncer shouts. You hear Sirius say something back to him, and then his hands are in your hair, moving it away from your face. 

“Shit, babe,” he mumbles, securing it with a hair tie. “You alright?” 

You spit, blinking tears from your eyes. “Mhm. M’fine.” 

“You wanna go home?” 

You turn your head to see him. Your vision smears. “You wanna take me home?” 

Some of that smile deploys, just a hint. It’s enough to make you dizzy. “Maybe just in the literal sense tonight, doll. Though I’ll be happy to take you up on that another time.” 

You harumph, setting your bum on the curb. Or falling onto it, same thing. “Can we go in a minute?” 

“Sure.” 

Sirius sits beside you, pulling a cigarette and a lighter out of his pocket. You watch him cup a hand to light it, inhaling quickly before blowing smoke out the corner of his mouth. He sets one hand on the pavement and leans back on it. The cigarette glows magma red between his lips. 

“Why did you come?” 

He shrugs, watching traffic pass on the street. “Like I said, my night was winding down. I thought you might be a good time.” 

You press your lips together. The smell of vomit is still sharp in your nostrils. “And I disappointed you.” 

“Not necessarily.” He exhales smoke, hair gleaming red under the neon sign of the club. “Where are your friends?” 

“Inside.” 

“Think they’re worried about you?” 

“When I left they were…distracted.” You smile wryly. You think you catch Sirius watching you out of the corner of his eye. “S’how nights out go, you know? Anyway, they’re used to me leaving early.” 

“Yeah?” Sirius’ voice is disinterested, like he’s just keeping up his end of small talk at a family gathering. “Why’s that?” 

You shrug, laying back on the sidewalk. Whatever’s getting in your hair is tomorrow’s problem. “I’m a lightweight.” 

He looks down at you, humming as he brings the cigarette to his lips again. “You’re a walking red flag, aren’t you?” 

You roll your head to the side. Grin up at him playfully. “And what about it?”

Sirius shrugs. “Nothing,” he says. “It’s hot.” He exhales a long stream of smoke, watching it dissipate into the night air. “My best mate says I always like things that are bad for me the best.” 

You’re not quite done wrapping your head around that when he stubs out the cigarette and slips a hand beneath your neck. “C’mon, this is no place for a nap.” 

He gets you sitting up, then stands, taking your hands to bring you up there with him. You start out on the half of the sidewalk closer to the curb, but Sirius steps around you, hand skimming across the small of your back as he takes your place. 

“Where’re we going?” 

“Your place.” 

You start to drift away, and Sirius gives your waist a slight tug. It’s the tiniest bit of pressure, but you stumble closer like he’s yanked you towards him. You may be swooning. 

“I can get home on my own,” you tell him. “I have a great sense of direction, I do it all the time.” 

“I don’t mind,” he says simply. 

And well, you don’t if he doesn’t. For a while you walk in silence, Sirius guiding you with his hand at the small of your back, not seeming to care that you called him out here for nothing or that you smell like vomit or that you keep stumbling in your heels. 

“Sirius?” you ask after a while. 

“Hm?” 

“Do you think I’m bad for you?” 

He’s quiet for a second. “I haven’t decided yet, doll. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

[writing-mlm]

hii saw you also do marvel fics :) a scott summers x male reader would be so awesome i can never find any good mlm stories for him. bonus points if it’s like an opposites attract dynamic where the reader is more irritable and rash whereas scott is more level headed and critical. thank you, no rush!!!

Irritations and Delight

Summary: Your temper is well known amongst the others but they have a trick up their sleeves that works every single time. Pairing: Scott Summers x Male Reader WC: 4.7k a/n: genuinely foaming at the mouth for Scott I forgot how little screen time he gets LMFAOOOO

Scott sighs as he gets called down to the War Room just before midnight. It’s the third time that week he’s been called to stop a fight and considering that it’s only Monday he knows it’s going to be a very long week. Despite the urgency of Jean’s request, he takes his sweet time going down the stairs rather than taking the elevator as he should have and through the halls before he sees the door. It’s closed, so he presses his hand to it, rubbing the sleep from his face while it scans him.

“I’m not taking shit from someone I need to look down at!” He hears you scoff as the doors open. He knows you’re arguing with Logan, because of course you are, it’s more often than not him. “Keep your Canadian ass away from my fucking snacks!” You warn, nostrils flaring. Jean looks at Scott with a pleading look and he just leans against the door frame, debating if this is even worth intervening— spoiler; it’s not. He’ll let you go for a little longer, get most of the steam out of your system. 

“You can make more,” Logan shrugs. “Isn’t that your whole thing? Creating,” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were so broke you gotta steal like an alley rat,” Taking the jab as well as you expected, Logan flares— damn near growls, too— and clenches his fist. You grin, staring at his claws, and tilt your head, threatening him even to try and hit you. But he’s stopped by Scott calling for you. Your last name cutting through the air like a whistle during gym class.

Scott’s voice is half a warning, half a tired plea when he calls you. Regrettably, his presence makes Logan smirk and you scowl before it drops from your face and you glare over at him. “C'mon now,” He beckons with his index and middle finger before turning and walking away. You suck your teeth and drop the topic for now. 

“Run along,” Logan taunts as you walk past him. “Daddy’s calling.” You stop and look at the door before at Logan; it’s not really a split-second decision but you walk back around and punch him in the jaw before leaving. He doesn’t fight back, not when Jean is attending to his ‘wound’ and Scott yells for you. He should be thanking you, really. She hasn’t willingly been that close to him in months. With one last shared look, you head out of the War Room and into the bright hallway. 

“Don’t say it,” You grit, rubbing your knuckles as you walk in stride with him. It doesn’t hurt, you’ve punched harder things, but you’re making sure that you didn’t break anything seeing as your hand is technically still healing from your last mission. 

“Say what?” Scott pauses, standing with his arms crossed. “That you’re being childish or that you shouldn’t hit your teammates?” Sucking your teeth, you drop your hands into your pockets and kick the imaginary rock on the floor. 

“He called you my daddy,” You grumble. “I’m older than you, by the way.” It’s like four months, but that’s still older than him. 

“Really?” He grins, his arms still crossed but now he flexes his biceps. It gets your attention more than his words do and he knows that. Asshole. “I couldn’t tell.” 

“Shut up, Summers.” 

He just tosses an arm over your shoulder and drags you over to the elevator. You bite the corner of your mouth, stopping the smile on your face until you’re alone in the elevator. 

“What even started that?” He asks, his knuckle stroking your cheek. It doesn’t take an empath to know the action alone makes you weak in the knees; metaphorically speaking, of course. The man knows how to make you unfold in seconds, which is why he’s the only one dispatched to handle you. 

“I was making cookies in secret,” You start, pursing your lips. “It’s stupid but I was proud of them and-and they were mine. But Logan’s stupid fucking nose sniffed them out while we were out getting groceries and he ate every single one of them.” He frowns, just a bit. He doesn’t want you to think he’s pitying you but he knows how much it hurts you. 

Baking wasn’t exactly a hobby of yours, truth be told you were a disaster in the kitchen, but he knew well enough that you could make some mean cookies. Everyone knew that and snatched them up whenever you made any, leaving nothing left for you. And yes, your mutation allowed you to recreate those same exact cookies as much as you wanted but you never did. 

“I just wanted something for myself— and you, of course. Just this once. And that bitch starts going on about how I should’ve hidden them better or put a note on them if I didn’t want anyone else eating them. But they were! They were in our room, in my dresser, inside of my tupperware!” Now you’re shouting and Scott takes a step back, his chest rising as you enunciate each pronoun. 

“I’ll speak with him,” He promises and your head whips around to face him. The elevator gets to your stop and you face forward, marching out and towards the staircase. 

“Oh, because then he’ll talk about how my ‘daddy’ came to my rescue again!” You shout while using air quotes. “No— it’s fine. Next time I’ll just make him a batch and load them with laxatives and chocolates, have that dog dying with shit pouring out his ass.” 

“(L/n),” He scolds, following you as you climb the stairs two at a time. “You agreed to stop calling Logan a dog.” He catches you by the elbow, spinning you around so you’re facing him. 

“No, I said I'll stop calling him a mutt.” You correct, waving your finger in front of his face. “It felt like a slur, so I stopped. But technically wolverines aren’t dogs, they’re weasels. So, dog doesn’t work either.” Slow blinking, Scott drops your arm and follows you into your shared room. By that point, you’ve gone quiet and it’s not because it’s after hours and you, as the responsible adult and teacher, would hate to wake the children up. 

He sees a mess, the things in your dresser are tossed about and the tubberware is broken into several pieces. You don’t apologize, you don’t feel a need to, instead you huff and start cleaning while he sits on the edge of your bed. Knowing that you hate it when he helps with your messes, he waits until everything is neatly folded or tossed into the trash can before he pulls you over. 

“Would you like it if I talked to the Professor about getting a toaster oven for our room?” He asks while guiding you to your side of the bed. You shrug as a response, staring at the wall. “Hey,” Grabbing your face with a ghostly grip, he makes you stare at him. “You can’t just shut down, come on.”

“I guess,” You huff, moving his hand from your face. “It’s ridiculous that we’d need to do that, though. It’s a communal space but no one respects it. I’m tired of treating people older than me like toddlers just because I have something they want!” Tenderly, he kisses the top of your head and lays properly next to you. 

“I understand, we can have a conversation with the Professor in the morning. For now, rest,” While he puts his night mask on, you reach over and turn the lamp off before holding him close. He insists on laying this way, with your head tucked into his back or neck and his grip tight on your hands. You like it, too. Scooping his legs on top of your own, you sigh into a yawn and try to fall asleep. 

—

“Hey, pretty boy!” You call as you enter the garage where Scott is working on his motorcycle. Classes had since finished up and with no other work to do, it was officially time to do whatever the fuck you wanted. And what you wanted was to bother your oh-so-loving boyfriend. 

“Yes, hun?” He calls from under that damn bike. Only able to see his legs, you lay your head against the door frame and look around. 

“Would you mind if I sit and watch you?” You ask, checking out an empty spot. Maybe you should get a motorcycle— but then he couldn’t drive you around anymore. But you could ride with him. But you wouldn’t have an excuse to not go places alone anymore. No motorcycle. 

“Course not.” He responds, sliding out from under the bike and beckons you over. Taking long strides over to him, you settle next to him and he explains what he’s doing. Fixing an exhaust pipe and something on the bottom of it had been dragging during the last ride so he was checking on that. You used to offer to fix it, your dad is a mechanic and your powers could fix it in seconds but he said he liked getting his hands dirty. 

You just know he doesn’t like anyone to handle his bike. 

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence until he finishes, you’d given up watching him tinker because you wanted him to actually do his task and knew you couldn’t stop yourself from pestering. Instead, you grabbed a useless tool in the box and changed it into various objects, eventually changing it back and reaching for an instruction manual that was hidden under wrenches. 

It wasn’t riveting or even particularly useful, an instruction manual for a toolbox wasn’t the best literature. But it passed the time until Scott let out the huff that signaled he was done and would admire his work for ten minutes. 

“Have you eaten?” You ask while he washed his hands in the large basin in the corner of the garage. 

“Not since lunch,” Lunch, if you could call it that, was a single slice of toast with a layer of jam so thin you couldn’t believe he wasted a knife for that. 

“Perfect, let’s go get some dinner.” Dinner with the rest of the school was hectic; it was dinner with a bunch of superpowered teenagers after all. So whenever you can, you opt to eat away from them and luckily tonight is one of those nights. 

Charles had ordered enough pizza to fill a god and you snagged a box before anyone noticed. It was yours and Scott’s favorite, too, so you think the Professor knew your plan from the start. But who knows? You still head outside with the box in hand and head to your secret spot on the property. 

Since the mansion overlooks acres of land there were plenty of secret spots but you like to believe yours was actually a secret. When you first got there you’d create a tree house, back then it was just large enough for you and your items but nowadays you hang with him whenever you can. 

The great weeping willow was the perfect tree to hide the house in, too. The large dangling leaves provided more than enough coverage— even for the spiral staircase you climb to reach the top. 

“How romantic,” Scott teases when you appear with a pizza box, soda, and two cups. You’d forgone getting plates because eating from the box is just as acceptable. You thank him and slide the box onto the table. He stops it from sliding off, watching as you grab a vinyl from the display case and set it on the player. It’s a newer one, one you’d stolen on accident. You swear it was an accident and Scott is inclined to believe that for his peace of mind. 

“Dinner and music,” He meets you halfway and runs his hands along your arms. “You really know how to treat a guy.” He muses. 

“Not just any guy,” Your lips curl into a smile as you stare at him. “My guy.”

“Your guy?” He echos and you nod, your eyes darting to his lips. 

“My favorite guy, my dream man, my boyfriend. My heart— I can continue if you’d like.” 

“Message received.” He shakes his head and presses a slow kiss to your lips. When his lips leave yours, you slowly open your eyes and then nudge his shoulder, telling him it’s time to eat. 

When you spend nearly all day with your significant other, sharing memories and gazes throughout the day, one might think there’s not much to talk about at the end of the day. But you begin to word vomit the second your butt hits the chair. Scott listens and gives his own input whenever he wants and the conversation eventually evolves into very juicy gossip about your students. 

Not very mature, sure. But come on! It’s like your own reality TV show. It would be better if one of you were telepathic but oh well, word of mouth and visual cues are just as fine. 

You think Tamara, a girl who’s technically a senior in high school with the powers to walk through walls is the one who’s been helping the younger kids during their nightmares before the others could get to them. Scott disagrees, he thinks it's Kevin, a kid who can enter people’s dreams.

“But Kevin can’t control whose dream he enters,” You point out, stopping yourself before you tell him about the time Kevin went into your dream where you were inside of the White House trying to get the President— who’d been Bob Marley— to come to your birthday party. 

“He’s getting better,” Scott draws his hand to his hair, slicking it back. “Because he’s been helping the others. You haven’t seen the way the kids look at him?”

“Have you seen how they look at Tamara? She’s like a big sister to them.” Tossing the crust of your slice into the box, you grab another. Honestly, his point does make sense. How else is a kid with dream powers supposed to get better? By entering dreams. “Maybe it’s both of them.” You settle on. 

“What? Kevin deals with the dream and Tamara helps them if they wake up?”

“I mean…” You trail. “Their rooms are right next to each other, it’s not hard to believe.”

“I think we cracked the code,” Scott grins and you nod as pizza cheese slides off of your lip. 

“Man, sign us the fuck up for mystery solving.”

—

Physically imposing wasn’t typically a word people would use to describe you. You don’t have a body type close to Logan or even Scott. You work out just enough, truly you don’t care too much about lifting cars or being able to punch through walls.

It’s useless in your opinion when you could very easily just turn the wall into sand or make the car paper. 

But that doesn’t mean you aren’t strong. 

You’re plenty strong, you work out every morning with Scott. You often use the students as weights just for the hell of it. While you don’t keep track you think your current limit is two seventy-five on each side of the dumbbell. 

So when you punched a protester it caught him off guard. Which wasn’t hard considering he was busy shouting nonsense at your students. But, hey, he was being really annoying. No one around you said he didn’t deserve it, no one gave you a look of shame or disgust. 

But he didn’t hit the ground, time seemed to freeze and you sighed through your nose, fist still clenched as you listened to Charles making his way over. Scott wasn’t far behind, grabbing you by the elbow just before Charles spoke up. 

“Now, was that necessary?” He asks, his stupid holier than-thou voice doing nothing to make you ashamed of hitting the man. 

“When you talk shit about my kids, absolutely,” You tell him. “How about next time you agree to take at-risk children on a field trip, you use your shitty powers to make sure someone isn’t going to hurl cruel words at them.” 

“How’d he even know?” Scott asks, staring at the man’s clearly unhinged jaw. 

“Someone scared Man-man on accident and his face went all… froggy,” You explain, looking at Man-man with an apologetic look. He looks down, rubbing his arm. “And of course, the man saw.” 

“You should’ve come to me.”

“You should’ve known.” You correct him, staring down at him. “Isn’t that your whole thing? Mind reading, and understanding people’s characters? You’re supposed to look out for them and my method is much more effective than walking away and calling for you.” Scott whispers your name, his voice was soft, and begging you to stop arguing. 

You falter, not wanting to ruin the trip anymore, and run your face.

“Can’t you just wipe his memory? Only we saw.”

“And can we go somewhere cooler?” Claire asks, leaning against her boyfriend Todd. Her long blonde hair running down the length of her face before she shifts it behind her ear. “We’ve been to this evolution museum three times. I heard there’s a movie theater down the street.” 

“The movies sounds good,” Ororo agrees, ever the helper for Charles. “I’ve been wanting to see the new one, what’s the name?” She turns to Jean who whispers the name and she nods. 

“I suppose some quiet time in the cinema couldn’t hurt.” Charles reluctantly agrees and the kids cheer. 

“We could totally—“ 

“No.” Scott shoots the idea down and you sigh, crossing your arms while getting the kids to line up. He pinches your side as he gets his kids to line up next to yours and you pinch him back. 

“It would be for like twenty—“

“No,” He drags out, not even looking at you. 

“You don’t even know what I’m asking!” Giving you a look, you chuckle and nod. “I totally was asking for that.” 

—

“It’s nine,” Scott drawls from above you, one hand on your shoulder and the other on the headboard. “You’ve slept in plenty today.” You groan and roll over, pulling your cover up to your chin. 

“Suck a dick, Summers.” 

“I’m sure I will, later,” He blinks. “But you’ve missed breakfast and your first class. It’s time to get up.” Grumbling under your breath, you turn and face him. He’s been awake for hours, you knew because he woke you up when he did. Plus, he’s a messy sleeper and you relish the bed to yourself sometimes. He smiles and sits down on the edge of the bed next to you, stroking your hairline. 

“It’s Friday, man. Can’t we cancel class for one day?” Your eyes dart between his glasses, finding his eyes in the red. 

“I’m sorry,” He shakes his head. “It’s time to get up.” Relenting, you sit up and drag yourself into the bathroom. He doesn’t stay, he has a class to teach and he knows if he does, you’ll rope him into missing it. 

Thankfully, you only have three classes before you can sit and relax. But things are never that simple inside that damn school, something happened during the period just before lunch. Some telepathic kid messed with the newest kid to join and the kid absolutely destroyed the classroom with his shock waves. He told you it was something about his past and you reassured him it’ll be fine before sending him up to talk with Charles. 

Tragic backstory after tragic backstory, you must’ve thought yourself lucky that your trauma came from the one time you accidentally turned a candle into a stick of dynamite at a historical building during a field trip. 

Not your best moment, you should admit. But the tour guide was being a prick and it’s what you imagined throwing at him. Sorry to the historical building, though, shame it became an arcade like five years later. 

This mutant's anonymous shit wasn’t your speed, sure that’s not what Charles called it (he called it mediation between two students who are having issues), but that’s definitely what it was. Everyone sat in a circle, telling their feelings and instead of some chip to commemorate being a mutant, you’re left to go out on ugly ass spandex and give up your apartment in replace of living amongst traumatized teenagers and more traumatized emotionally stunted adults. 

But hey, you agreed to become a teacher for those same young mutants— you just didn’t expect them to take to you like glue on paper. For fucks sake, you taught them chemistry, far from a friendly subject. You know you hated it when you were their age. And Jean tells you that you’re far from a friendly person, too. Not too sure on how she managed that assessment because there’s a group of teenagers in your office eating and talking. Willingly, during their lunch period. 

There are six of them, one of which is sitting on top of your filing cabinets and eating straight from a cantaloupe. No spoon or anything, just his hands. Never mind the chunks falling on your floor.  

“No, because Todd is totally grinding my gears,” Claire grumbles from the floor. Todd, her boyfriend, definitely wasn’t on your list of best students. “He keeps talking about he’ll be the next leader of the X-men and I’ll be his trophy wife! Trophy wife!” She shouts through a laugh. “He runs fast and I can bend light to my fucking will!” 

“He tried to get with Stacy Ambers,” You hum, stabbing your fork into a piece of chicken. Everything quiets down and they turn to face you, their jaws dropped. “I caught them during class when you went to the bathroom. He ran to give her a note, she giggled and nodded.”

“That sleaze!” Kelly shouts, standing on her knees. “Ugh! And with Sticky-Stacy? As if,” She lowers herself back to the floor and picks up her juice carton. “I say we stick them together in the training room and use them for target practice!”

“Saying stuff like that will get you a week's detention if the Professor hears,” You lazily remind them but you do nothing more to stop that conversation.

“The owner of the school is a telepath,” Derek rolls his eyes. “I’m sure he already knows all the fucked up plans in her noggin’.” 

“Which you shouldn’t be encouraging,” Scott chides from the door. “Come on now, go with the rest of your peers.” The kids groan and pack their things, leaving you and Scott inside the room. He steps inside and shuts the door. 

“I wasn’t encouraging,” You defend, holding your hands up. “I was acting as an outlet to the children, as Charles always drones on and on about.” He smiles and you think, rolls his eyes before he walks over to your desk. 

“That’s not what he meant, and you know it.” 

“What’re gonna do about it, Summers?” You grin, rolling your head to the side as he gets closer. He shrugs and sits on the edge of your desk. Grabbing his thigh, you roll your chair over to him and hang your arms over his legs. “Because it seems like you’re jealous I’m the favorite teacher.” 

“Jealous?” He echos, staring down at you. “Far from it; I’m glad you’re bonding with the children. We know how your temper is.” Frowning, you shove his stomach and lean back in your seat. He tilts his head as though you’ve proved his point and you chuckle, rolling your eyes. 

“Why’d you come anyway? You never visit lil ole me during lunch.” Grabbing your food, he steals a piece and you’re just glad it wasn’t the piece you were eyeing. 

“I do visit,” He rebuts. “I visited you last week. But I wanted to see if you wanted to come with me this Saturday? The Professor wants me to check out a potential mutant fight ring,”

“Hmm,” You pretend to think. “Another mission turned date, I can get down with that. Where is it?” 

“Chicago. Close to the border.” 

“Groovy, I’m in.”  Patting his thigh, you push yourself back to your desk and grab your lesson plan for next week. “Do you think the Professor would be upset if I turned the walls of the classroom into chocolate? For science, of course.”

“Yes, he would. Especially since they’re currently being rebuilt.”

“Aw, man. That was my whole lesson for Monday.” 

“Why don’t you do normal chemistry lessons? Like toothpaste volcanoes or colored fire?” He grabs another piece of your lunch and some of your juice. 

“Firstly; it’s called elephant toothpaste. Secondly, it’s hard keeping them focused in class. Half of the kids already make colored fire!” Taking the juice from him when he’s done, you take a sip. “I mean, I could do normal lessons. But it would bore everyone.”

“How about boring lessons all week but on Friday you do fun stuff like chocolate paperwork or something.” The suggestion is obvious but you take it down all the same, writing that in the corner of a paper to look at when you get back from the mission. 

“Oh, and since classes are canceled because of the incident, we could leave for Chicago now. If you’d like.” 

“Oh man, would I? Let’s go, Summers!” Slapping his shoulder, you run out of the room and head up to pack your bags. 

—

“Can I be honest with you?” You ask while Scott flies the jet. It’s impossibly quiet inside, the unattended chairs and lack of chatter were almost foreign with missions. You’d been walking around, messing with straps, and threatening to turn a chair into water. It didn’t take a genius for Scott to tell you were talking about Logan’s seat. 

“You always are,” He hums and you grin, messing up his hair. He grabs your hand after a second and kisses the back of it before you move to take a seat next to him again. 

Sighing, you kick your feet up on the control panel, careful to not actually press any buttons. “I don’t know your eye color,” You admit, staring at him. Even though you’ve been dating for nearly three years, you’ve yet to see his eyes behind those red frames. You also haven’t seen any childhood photos of him. 

“They’re blue,” He answers with a smile. “I have blue eyes, Alex said they’re blue like the sky. I think they’re blue like Florida oceans.” 

“Blue,” You softly echo, staring at him. “I always thought they were brown.” He laughs and shakes his head. It makes sense, you think. Because of course, he’d have blue eyes, how could you picture him any different? 

“What about yours?” He asks. “It’s hard to tell colors,” You tell him, describing your eyes in the way that you view them. Correlating beautiful things to the shade. “That makes sense. I thought they were gold because of your mutation and that’s what Ororo had told me.”

“Oh, I wish!” You shout. “I’d be so cool, you couldn’t stay away from me if they were.” 

“I can’t stay away from you now,” You chuckle nervously, looking away from him and he just smiles. That asshole just smiles. “I love you, I hope you know that.” He continued just to see your reaction. 

“Yippee,” You respond and immediately cover your face. “Summers, take those glasses off and kill me.” It’s a near beg as you scream into your hands. You, a grown adult, had just uttered the word yippee following a declaration of love from your boyfriend. Oh, how prepubescent. How… emotionally stunted. Oh my god, you’re no better than the other X-men. 

This, this is your trauma. This is what you’ll look back upon and shiver, pushing it deep down in your memories as if it was bad food at a family gathering and the trash was nearly full. 

“I meant,” You shudder. “I love you, too, Summers.”

“Wanna try with my first name?” He asks and you groan. He blinks over at you, his eyebrows clearly raised at your antics. 

“Give them an inch and they’ll ask for a mile!” You joke. “I love you, Scott.” You finally say, looking back at him. He bites his lip as he smiles and you lick yours, nearly forgetting that he’s flying a jet and should not be distracted. Looking away, you see Chicago in the distance and remind yourself that the mission comes first. 

Go, X-Men, Go!