#blowjobs and self esteem
Text
[Poll results]
A smut piece for Rolan that became a 7k word fic. I don't know what it is about him--I just need him to be happy. 🖤 For anyone else who feels the same!
In Amber
Rolan can't remember what made him this way. Bitter, insufferable. He only knows he wants things with her to be different.
A series of encounters between Rolan and the person who is teaching his black heart how to hope.
Tags: Fem Unnamed Tav, Explicit Sexual Content, Mild Hurt/Comfort | Word Count: 7,033 [Read on AO3]
The beloved hero of the Grove has saved them all from the Shadow Curse, apparently.
Word spreads fast, and it's all Rolan hears the Harpers talking about in their rush to take final leave of Last Light Inn. Nearly all had gone to Moonrise Towers with the Druid, but a small group stayed behind with Isobel in case the fight turned to the worst.
Rolan was the first one packed. With the shadows lifting, all he wants to do is travel the road to Baldur's Gate and finally reach his destiny. Leave this hollow place behind him.
At last they are finally moving in the right direction again--the three of them along with Lakrissa and Alfira, led by the Harper rangers.
He glances at Cal and Lia walking beside him. They're in the middle of chatting about the first things they want to do when they reach the lower city. Rolan can't seem to stop checking that they’re still there–as if he might look to find them gone once more.
He hasn't seen their savior since the night she brought his siblings back to him. That made twice now that she'd saved all three of their lives. Few things bristled against his nature more than owing a debt that couldn't be repaid. Rolan didn't like the feeling of being under anyone's thumb.
She wouldn't even accept a reward for saving his brother and sister's lives, just waved him away with a smile on her lips. The memory frustrated him endlessly. He couldn't understand why she took such an interest in helping him and his family. He was even beginning to consider that goodness of heart might really exist…at least when it came to hers.
Half of his mind felt tormented by her inscrutable kindness. The other half thought he'd very much like to kiss her.
Before he could brush away the alarming idea, the Harpers in front threw up a cheer. Rolan looked around to see the commotion.
She and her companions were covered in more blood than he'd seen on them yet, but they were still standing as they led their small army down the path from Moonrise Towers.
His eyes light automatically to her face–it shines with a radiant smile, but Rolan recognizes the way her shoulders slump under her armor. He is flooded with relief. At least she's alive.
Their groups converge on the road outside the tower. Everything is a jumble of cheers and shouts as the Harpers jostle forward to reunite with their comrades; a man he's never met claps Rolan’s shoulder hard enough to make him wince.
"Go on, then," says Lia beside him. She's following his gaze knowingly. "While you've got a chance."
He only manages to throw his sister a scowl before she trots away. Is it that obvious?
He decides to take her advice after all. She was right that this could very well be the final time their paths converged. Baldur's Gate was a large city, and whatever grand adventures their savior would face next, he doubted they would involve spending much time browsing magical emporiums.
She gave him a little wave as he approached, the kind one might give an old friend. It pricked his conscience. He'd thanked her for saving Cal and Lia, true, but his mind tossed up all the countless other times he'd been needlessly unpleasant toward her.
"Seems we owe you thanks yet again," he said, hoping it came off sincere.
She shook her head wryly. "I've never done any of it alone, you know that. Every one of these people fought like hells in there."
Standing close, his nose was hit by the thick tang of blood that coated on her armor. How much of it was hers?
"You should go to see Isobel," Rolan insisted. He'd drag her straight to the cleric himself, if she'd let him.
"Do I look that bad?" She was teasing, but there was a strain to it. "As long as I make it to my bedroll in the next hour, I'll be fine. You're sweet to worry, though."
"Stop saying things like that," Rolan snapped, unable to contain himself. "You're so nice, and I'm just a bastard."
Her eyes widened at him, taken aback. "I don't think you're a bastard."
Rolan looked down at his hands. "That's what makes you so nice," he said. He had to get to the point. "Look…I know I haven't been the easiest person to get along with. I've been rude and awful, ever since the Grove, and you didn't deserve it. So." He straightened up properly. "I'm sorry for that."
It's far less eloquent than he'd rehearsed, but she seems to understand the sentiment.
"Don’t worry about it," she tells him. "You feel responsibility for the people you love. That can make anyone forget themselves for a while."
"I suppose," is all he can manage to say. How well she seems to speak what's in his mind.
Her Githyanki companion approaches with a clear intention to speak with her, and Rolan turns away, not wanting to intrude on the company of her true friends.
"Rolan, wait–"
The flutter in his stomach humiliates him. Will he ever get used to her saying his name?
She rummages in the pack at her waist. "Almost forgot. I found something–well, stole, but it doesn't matter now."
A fist is held out to him, closed around something.
Uncertain what to expect, Rolan offers his hand. Her fingers graze softly against his as they deposit something small and hard. He looks down at his palm.
"A rock," he says, deadpan.
"Not just any rock, it's a topaz."
Rolan blinks at her. "And…what am I supposed to do with this, exactly?"
"I don't know," she shrugs. "Keep it, or don't. It just made me think of you. Matches your eyes." The admission brought a flush of pink to her cheeks.
He felt his heart skip at the sight, followed by a jolt of fear–as if she might be able to see the hope blooming inside his chest.
He turns away with a tut. "Absurd."
She gave only a satisfied laugh before taking her leave. Once she'd retreated out of sight, he tucked the gem securely into the folds of his robe.
-
Rolan has long abandoned the fantasy that he is his master's apprentice.
Whipping boy would be a more accurate job description. Perhaps test subject. He is trapped in an impossible game that he can never win, and his highest purpose is to be the canvas where Lorroakan paints his next magical experiment.
His mind shudders at the way the red wizard's eyes rest on him during "lessons": casually devoid of all concern or care. No matter how hard Rolan concentrates, no matter what he answers, it won't be good enough. And then the pain will follow.
The mindless Constructs are worth far more to his master than he is.
There was a time when someone made Rolan feel like he could deserve more, but that time is gone now. All he can hope is to learn enough, train hard enough, and one day claw his way through to something better.
Today, however, will offer the chance of a reprieve. He's been sent to deliver a message on foot across the lower city. Weeks ago he would've seen the task as an insult. Now he wonders whether it might take all morning, if he's lucky.
If he often feels like a drowning man, these moments of escape are like a sweet gasp of air. He walks with his face tilted up to soak in the sun's warmth.
The marks of abuse that paint his features have long stopped troubling him. An occasional passerby might stare at the bruises, but since the Absolute army's march, most Baldurians give Tieflings a wide enough berth not to notice. One wearing fine robes is no different to them.
As he passes the bridge to the Counting House, his eyes land on her figure. He stops short in surprise, earning himself a rude remark about clumsy devils from the woman behind him.
Rolan would recognize her face in any crowd. She stood on the bridge in the middle of some kind of confrontation between two women; one of them a beggar, by the state of her, the other finely dressed.
As he watches he very clearly sees her invite the rich one to "piss off", to the woman's indignation.
An affectionate chuckle escapes him. Then he winces, hand rising to the cracked skin on his lip. He tastes a drop of blood.
Swift panic grips his chest. She can't fucking see him like this, not once–more broken and pathetic than ever. Not after how many times she's already played rescuer to him. He cringes in shame at the thought.
At least she hasn't found him trapped behind his desk, there's a chance he can slip away unnoticed yet–
"Rolan?"
He missed his moment by a hair. It's unfortunate that hearing her voice after all this time freezes him straight to the cobblestones, or he might consider dashing away like a coward.
"I thought that was you! I'd recognize those horns anywhere."
Resigned, he turns back toward her. But he keeps his face cast down toward the pavement.
"What do you want?" He asks stiffly.
"Hello to you too," she laughs, and he stifles the impulse to watch her do so. "It's been a while. Cal and Lia, they're good?"
"Thanks to you," he concedes. No thanks to me.
"I'm glad to hear it." He watches her boots step closer, tentative. "Everything okay with you?"
She can never just leave him alone, can she. Why does she insist on caring when so many others don't bother?
"Fine, busy with my studies," Rolan deflects. "I've got to get back to the Sundries."
There's a tight pause, and then her voice grows firm. "Look at me."
He curses himself for being unable to disregard her, and for his eyes wanting to take her in despite everything. Slowly, he raises his head to meet her gaze.
Her face is somehow lovelier than he remembered. As he watches, it shatters in shock. He can see her eyes flit from mark to mark as if taking inventory.
"Who did this to you?" She whispers, aghast.
He turns away, unable to hold her gaze. "Believe me, it's nothing that can be helped."
"Rolan–" Her hand extends toward his jaw.
If the thought of her touch thrills him, the thought of being touched by her with pity is unbearable.
"I don't need your help," he spits, slapping the hand away with his own. "And I certainly don't need your damned sympathy!"
The shock and hurt on her face are the last things Rolan sees before he turns on his heel.
-
The archwizard was not pleased with his late return. That night, Rolan comes home with a large fresh bloom of purple over his left eye.
Lia's already limited patience snaps. She flies into his face with angry tears and threats that she'll march straight into Lorroakan's tower herself with shortsword in hand. Cal stands between them, pleading for peace, eyes wide and sad.
"Enough," Rolan orders them both. "Don't you see we're nothing but hellspawn refugees to these people? My position is the only thing keeping us under this roof, the only thing."
He doesn't stop Lia as she storms out–she didn’t take her sword with her. The door rattles on its hinges as it slams behind her. He pushes wordlessly past Cal to his room, and collapses in a heap against his bed pillows.
His face aches enough that he knows sleep won’t come easy tonight. One hand reaches into the robe at his chest, and he slowly pulls out the small amber stone. His fingers turn it over and over as he closes his eyes once more to escape into imagining.
In some other world, he could've been the one powerful enough to save and protect her. Even be the person who makes her smile.
He would not be the pathetic, broken man that he is. He could feel worthy to return her tender touches with his own, drawing her close to him instead of pushing her away. Feel her lips on his own…her hands circling his shoulders…
Rolan rouses himself to stare down at the topaz shining in his palm. He feels his rotten heart crumple.
He can't remember what made him this way. Bitter, insufferable. He doesn't like the man he is. He wants to be different–he wants things with her to be different.
The stone grows warm in his fist as he clenches it. She crept deep into his heart a long, long time ago. He'll probably never get the chance to tell her, so he might as well admit it to himself.
And even if he did see her again–what chance did he have that she might feel the same? None. She single-handedly managed to improve every part of his life that she touched. What could he possibly offer her?
In this world, precious little.
-
Lorroakan of Ramazith lay dead on the ground.
Rolan felt a numb hatred as he stood over his former master, eyes frozen wide in the final shock of death. Months from now the expression might have given him cause to laugh. Today, Rolan can only stare mutely.
One more sick megalomaniac who possessed more power than Rolan could have dreamed of wielding…brought down by his insane, insatiable lust for more. Always always more. For what? In the end, he was just another corpse.
It was she who dispatched him, of course. Why wouldn't it be?
After all this time, it was perfectly inevitable that she and her friends would be the ones to fly in and deliver him from yet another tragic end. He felt like he was stuck on a wheel going around and around. He couldn't escape her, either in reality or in his own mind.
Rolan comes to himself and looks down at his robes. Blood splatters his front and soaks up to his elbows; a crust of frost coats his boots, from whose spell he can't remember. All at once an overwhelming tiredness soaks into his bones.
The dream of destiny that had carried him here…had it ever existed, really?
He decides to slip away while she's distracted, speaking urgently to one of her companions. Her plans probably extend far outside this room and beyond, but this is where his path reaches a bloody dead end.
He allows himself one last look at her profile before stepping quietly to the portal. He wants only a bath and the release of sleep.
His feet drag along the streets of the lower city as they carry his body home, ignoring any frightened stares at the state of his clothes. Silent as he can, he slips through the front door and down the hall to his room. Cal and Lia's voices carry from the kitchen. He'll face their questions when he wakes.
In the end, exhaustion and relief overtake him. There will be no more lessons. He falls to bed in a heap and drifts off, still wearing his master's blood on his hands.
-
In retrospect: letting Lia discover him face-down in his bed covered in dried blood was not the smartest decision Rolan had ever made.
After he'd groggily yelled himself hoarse enough to stop her screams, a sharp pang of conscience drove through him like ice. During the time he thought the two of them were lost to the Shadowlands, he wanted nothing more than to drink himself to an early death.
He never wanted either of them to feel that emptiness. For once, he let Lia hold him tight without protest.
With a few days' rest, and some of Cal's better efforts in the kitchen to date, Rolan's spirits had rallied sufficiently that he felt well enough to leave the house. Even to attempt a cautious return to his place of employment.
To his surprise and distinct confusion, no one at Sorcerous Sundries had a thing to say about Lorroakan's disappearance, or about any possible employee involvement.
If anything, the mood around the shop was noticeably lighter. He even caught Tolna humming a soft little tune to her bookshelves. “The tomes never respected him, you know,” she whispered to Rolan.
And once he got over the bizarre sight of Lorroakan's projection, hovering with a vacant smile behind his former desk, he found a perverse humor in it. Who was the fucking errand boy now?
Most of all, Rolan found himself free to finally do what he came to this place for: study magic. He had no archmage master, but he was intelligent, and he now had free access to all of the tomes in the tower library that Lorroakan had enjoyed dangling under his nose.
These days he preferred to spend his days alone in the upstairs, absorbed in theory and practice. His skills grew, and so did his confidence in himself.
If he also felt drawn to the spot because it was the last place he'd seen her…well, he was far too late on that score. He could've finally confessed the feelings that had long been bursting through his chest.
Instead he had slunk away in silence, too scared to stand in front of her and admit how misguided he'd been all this time. She must think very little of him. She probably didn't think of him at all.
Who knew if she was even still in Baldur's Gate? He searched every face he encountered on the streets, hoping for an answer. It had become a reflex.
At the end of another day, he trudged alone across the twilight square. His hands ached from practicing the gestures for elemental conjurement over and over. One of the Steel Watchers clomped mindlessly past, looking about like Rolan felt.
The thought of going home filled him with weariness. Cal and Lia's cheerful bickering always annoyed him, in an affectionate way. But tonight, he truly felt he might not be up to it.
He felt sad. Lonely.
Glancing up, he found that his legs had carried him to the steps of the Elfsong. A drink…that would soothe his sorrows for an hour or two, at least.
The doors swung open to usher a wave of stimulation over his senses. Warm firelight, the smell of roasting venison, tables packed with conversation and clinking glasses.
He was grateful that many others seemed to have had the same idea this particular night. It made it easier to slip through the crowded taproom unnoticed, catching meaningless slices of gossip and flirtatious banter on his way to the bar.
The surly bartender didn't look overjoyed to be serving a Tiefling. He took Rolan's gold without comment, however, and left him alone with his wine.
As the alcohol spread a welcome relaxation through his limbs, Rolan passed the time by idly watching the groups around him.
A halfling sat alone with shoulders slumped, staring down his tankard as if he wished to drown in it. Across the way, a large bearded man was leaning across the table in open pursuit of his female companion. Clearly getting nowhere, from her expression. But he looked far too drunk to notice.
In front of the great hall fireplace, a pale elf sat in conversation with a pretty dark-haired young woman.
Rolan's brow furrowed; he knew those two. His eyes quickly scanned over the room's faces until he found her.
She was removed a ways from her usual traveling companions, seated at a small table in the far corner. He watched her swirl the cup in her hand idly. Her eyes followed the liquid’s pattern, but the look behind them was leagues away.
For the first time in days, Rolan felt his heavy heart lift. She was exactly the person he wanted to be with tonight. Even if it was just sharing a drink.
This was it, he told himself. He had to speak with her or he'd regret it the rest of his life.
But first–he knocked back a very large mouthful.
His heart pounded in his ears as he drew closer to her. With each step he expected she might look up, piercing him with those eyes that visited most of his dreams. But she remained transfixed by the wine even when he drew up beside her table.
Improvising, he cleared his throat. "Hello."
She glanced up at him in pleasant surprise. "Oh!"
They stared at each other for an awkward silence. Then, somehow, he found himself laughing with her.
"Sorry, it's so strange. I was just thinking about you," she said, her face brightening.
The fact that he occupied any space in her brain would consume him later, but he shoved it aside for the moment.
"Mind if I join you?"
She patted the chair next to her. As he sat, he wondered if the spot had been a tactical choice on her part. Their table had a view of the whole room and both exits, yet the wall behind offered a sense of privacy.
"You're not drinking with your friends tonight," Rolan observed.
"Just taking a little break. We're celebrating another family reunion," she explained, gesturing her glass toward the group around the blazing hearth.
Rolan looked back over his shoulder. He recognized the one-eyed young man with curling horns, but not the older one whose hand was clasped on his shoulder. Quite clearly father and son to anyone with eyes.
"I'm glad for them," Rolan said. To his surprise, he found he truly meant it. The Absolute had ripped apart so many families in so many ways, including his, leaving the lower streets flooded with the hopeless and broken and displaced. He counted himself and his siblings incredibly lucky, and it heartened him to see another happy scene among so much misery.
“You know–” She eyed him curiously. "I was hoping I’d see you. You ran off before we could talk that day."
He looked down at his drink. "I know. I've regretted it since then. At the time, it was just…a lot to take in."
Her eyes narrowed, but not at him. "I hope you don't mind me saying, but that man can burn in Avernus for all I care. For what he did to you. For what he tried to do to Aylin."
Rolan recalled the runic circle in Lorroakan's library, the one whose mysterious power had at first awed and enthralled him. And then he'd seen the aasimar with the shining wings, and watched the demented hunger in Lorroakan's eyes, and the horrible realization had run through him like a sickness.
"Lorroakan was a monster," he agreed. "I just wish I'd seen it sooner. Or even found the strength to open my own eyes."
He felt a hand rest on his forearm.
"I saw what you went through to get here,” she said. “It’s natural that you thought you had to see it all through, no matter what.”
Rolan said nothing for a while, just let her kindness soothe into his chest like a balm.
“On the bright side,” he added suddenly, “He did keep an excellent library. I’ve learned more from one of his books than I ever did from him.”
“That’s because you’re a proper talented wizard,” she laughed. “And he was an idiot.”
“A dead idiot.”
“To that,” she said with a lift of her cup, and they both drank. He noticed she used her free hand, not moving the one that laid on his arm.
When he caught her eye after, she was watching him with a smile. "You look so well, Rolan."
He knew what she meant. The last time she saw him, his face had been dappled in marks and bruises from Lorroakan's brutal instruction, with more that she couldn't see under his robes.
Now, the last mark across his cheekbone had faded almost to nothing. He hoped it would take the memories of the meaningless pain he'd endured along with it.
"Thank you," he said simply. "So do you."
He meant it; he realized now that he'd only ever seen her dressed for combat. Tonight she wore soft hide pants tucked into her hunting boots, a linen shirt half unlaced at her collarbones. It softened her. Close beside him and bathed in firelight, she set his heart racing again.
Perhaps it was her closeness or her touch that gave him the courage, or perhaps it was just the wine. He shifted his arm slightly to capture her hand in his.
"No one else has ever shown me the kindness you have. Not even Cal and Lia, though I do love them."
She watched him speak in silence, and he gazed back at her, as if the answers to everything might be found in her face.
"I don't understand you,” he said earnestly. “Why you've kept giving me chances. You've been so much more generous with me than I deserve. I've insulted you, yelled at you, I've been an absolute unbearable prick–"
Before he could think, she leaned in to silence him with her lips.
The kiss lasted forever and only a second all at once. Rolan closed his eyes, breathing in the faint smell of lavender on her skin.
Before he was anywhere near ready, she gently pulled away.
"Because," she murmured, "you're a good man, Rolan. And I like you." Her words, the lingering taste of her on his lips, they made his head spin. He felt like he was watching the door to a new world swing open before his eyes.
Before anything else, Rolan had to kiss her again. He released her hand to smooth the hair back from her face, watching the way she tilted into his touch, and gently guided her toward him.
It was deeper this time; he tasted the heady wine on her mouth, her breath a soft tickle against his cheek. As his fingers tangled her hair, he felt her hand wind sweetly over his shoulder, holding on to him.
A wet stripe flashed across his lips. His mouth gasped open in surprise, allowing her tongue to softly meet his, then draw slowly over his pointed teeth.
The unexpected sensations brought his mind back to reality, and to the fact that they were in a public place. With effort, he wrenched himself out of the kiss. They breathed against each other for a moment.
"I've got a room upstairs," she murmured. "If you want to?" Her cheeks were flushed from firelight and wine, and possibly even from him.
Whether or not he wanted to was no question: her words sent a fervent rush of blood to his groin. But first, he mustered enough control to hold her back from him for a moment. Her lips were parted in question.
"I adore you," he said. "I think I have for a long time. It's–very important to me that you know that. Before anything else." Even if the anything else was a dream that had kept him awake more nights than he could count.
Her soft hand cupped his cheek; he thought he might combust if she didn't say something. "Thank Gods," she laughed breathily. "I swore you hated me for a while there."
"I had no idea what to do with my feelings for you, I was a fucking idiot." It was all tumbling out of him now. He opened his mouth to continue, but her fingertips went to his lips.
"Rolan–" Her voice was full of relief, and he was charmed to see the blush across her face deepen. "I feel the same way. I really, really like you."
His rotten heart could have flipped with joy.
“Now.” She cocked her head askance, and he felt her fingers twine with his. "Make it up to me?"
Yes. Please, please, yes. He nodded in a daze, reeling like he'd sustained a blow to the head. All he could feel was the elation and anxiety swirling around and around in his stomach as he followed her toward the staircase, let her lead him by the hand like a lovesick idiot.
As they passed her companions he pointedly averted his eyes; he couldn't afford to lose any of the nerve building inside him. He'd need every bit of it in a moment.
The dark staircase seemed to ascend forever. Part of him wanted it to–he was no virgin, but the hand she held tight was shaking with anxiety. He wanted to make this perfect.
Overthinking proved pointless. The moment the heavy door closed behind them, he found himself pinned against it with a thud by the length of her body.
His involuntary groan was lost in their kiss. She was everywhere around him at once: hands pinning his shoulders back against the wood, hips grinding into his thigh with no pretense, her tongue pressing against his lips and slipping past his teeth to taste him. She moaned against his mouth, and the sound reverberated from his head to his feet.
His erection was practically instantaneous. He hooked his thumbs over her hip bones, sharp nails finding purchase in her pants, and rolled himself against the yielding softness between her legs.
Whatever release the pressure provided multiplied it tenfold. Desire coursed through him, burning in his veins hotter than he thought possible.
The maneuver brought an approving hum from her throat, however. Encouraged, he ground her into him again, and again, as slowly as his body could be convinced to go.
Her hands released his shoulders to rake upward through his hair, pulling his face toward her.
Pulling him deeper into the room, he realized. He stumbled slightly against something; tasting her lips was infinitely more important than breaking the kiss to look where he was going. He trusted her lead, impatient to reach whatever destination she had in mind so he could freely explore her.
Their connected bodies bumped up against the edge of something soft. She pulled away, and his immediate disappointment rapidly turned around as he felt her fingers fumbling with the clasps of his robe. He guided her hands, struggling at the same time to kick off one boot and then the other.
As his robes pooled on the floor, her palms pressed him away for a moment.
Rolan stood frozen and panting in his trousers. She licked her kiss-swollen lips as she looked over his bare shoulders, his chest. When her eyes reached the obvious hardness straining in his pants, she let out a delicious sound.
Rolan's hands grabbed for her of their own volition. They slipped under the hem of her shirt, against the bare skin of her waist, and wrenched the garment up over her head in one motion.
To look at her directly was almost too much–he felt love and desire churning together inside of him. "Beautiful," was all he could say.
He buried his face in her shoulder instead, fang-like teeth brushing over her skin as he left a trail of kisses along the curve of her neck. She let out a gasp when his hand gently stroked her breast.
"You're so warm," she murmured into his hair. To him, she was pleasantly cool; he shivered when her fingers traced the small set of ridges that ran from his collarbone to his sternum.
But he needed more of her. He hooked both thumbs over her waistband and tugged ineffectually. She quickly took over, shucking them off with a shimmying motion.
The sight of her bare, for him, was almost enough to make Rolan come then and there. He reached out to her hips to steady himself. She was so much more divine than anything his paltry imagination could have conjured.
Through his blazing arousal, he was barely aware of the hands unlacing his pants until she tugged them down to finally let his cock spring free.
A sigh of relief escaped him. He watched her take him in, her eyes half-lidded with arousal.
"You're incredible," she whispered. Then her arms slid around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss.
He tried to concentrate on her mouth, but the way his cock brushed and nudged against her skin every time she moved was taking over his brain.
With a motion of her hips, she captured his length between her thighs and rocked forward and back, sliding her dripping wet center over his cock. The revelation of her own state of desire sent his mind spiraling with want.
Rolan let out what could only be called a whimper. He clutched her to him, capturing her bottom lip between his teeth as firmly as he dared, as if she might suddenly disappear and leave him in an aching pile.
She made a pleased sound, then gave his shoulders a push. With his pants still around his thighs, he lost his balance–knees buckled as he fell backwards onto the mattress behind them.
He propped himself up on his elbows just in time to see her kneel on the floor in front of him. Her two hands pushed his knees apart, as far as the straining fabric would allow–
Rolan tried and failed to breathe normally, heart pounding in his ears. It felt like time was slowing to a crawl. Her eyes glanced from his face to the stiff erection between them. A droplet of moisture shone at its tip.
"Can I–?" She was asking him for permission, hands poised on his thighs, her expression heady with arousal.
"Anything," Rolan swore, and he meant it. She could do whatever the fuck she wanted to him right now. Before he could prepare himself, her mouth closed wetly around his tip.
Truly, nothing could have readied him. He let out a gasp–his head dropped back as his hips rose involuntarily to seek more of her soft, cool mouth.
He had scarcely adjusted before she took him in further, sliding her tongue down along his length to his very base–then slowly, achingly slowly, back up again.
He heard the rip of fabric as his nails gripped the bedding. He gathered the will to raise his head up to look.
Rolan was mesmerized by the sight of her lips wrapped around taught red skin, his length disappearing into her mouth and returning wet with saliva. She was working him over almost reverently slow, eyes closed as if tasting him.
Tasting herself on him. His cock twitched inside her mouth at the realization. She glanced up at him, releasing him from her lips with a soft, wet pop.
He could have groaned at the loss of her. Instead, he used the moment to work off his constraining pants and toss them away. Before she could reach for him again, Rolan pulled her up and onto his lap.
Her knees sank into the bed on either side as she straddled him, but she kept herself hovering well above him without contact. He pushed aside the ache between his legs to focus on more important things.
He leaned forward to press a soft kiss between her breasts, allowed his mouth to explore. She sighed with pleasure as he alternately licked and kissed across each curve, then drew sharp breath as his teeth sucked at the soft flesh under one breast.
Her hands, at first resting on his shoulders, flew to grab two fistfuls of his hair. The sensation sent a shiver down his spine.
Rolan pulled away for a moment for admire the purple mark blooming on her breast. He glanced up as though looking for approval. She gave it, tugging his hair to tilt his face into a waiting kiss.
Ever so carefully…mindful of his fingertips, he placed the flat of his palm on the heat between her legs.
“Rolan–” she gasped, breaking away.
The sound of his own name had never been dearer to him. He was run through with a thrill, and a fervent desire to do whatever it took to make her say it again.
He massaged gentle circles into her, the base of his palm pressing against her clit in slow rhythm. Her wetness coated him with each stroke. She quaked under his touch, eyelashes fluttering, and his other arm circled her back to support her. He felt her lean against him without a second thought. Trusting completely.
“I can’t believe I have you,” he heard his voice say, perhaps to himself.
As he spoke he felt the core of her tightening under his hand. Abruptly, her fingers closed around his wrist to still his ministrations. He froze, immediately afraid he had scratched her somehow. But her face shone with nothing but desire for him.
"On your back," she directed.
Rolan nearly pinched his tail under himself in his haste to obey. He swept his legs out from between hers and stretched out as she climbed over to straddle him.
Now they were finally here, she wasted no time leaving space between them. Her hips rolled down onto him and drew the wet folds of her center across his tip. His entire length throbbed at the blessed return of her touch, the head of his cock burning against her.
Smoothly, simply, she lowered herself onto him.
The shuddering exhale from his lips met against her moan of relief. Rolan willed himself to keep his eyes on hers, even as her inviting walls gripped him, even as he practically felt his pupils dilate with want. Her features relaxed into a state of pure, unadulterated satisfaction.
Then she started to move her hips.
She pushed her palms against his chest for leverage, riding his cock at a steady pace that felt entirely too slow. Whatever will he had to follow her lead was immediately tested; he was overcome with the need to touch her everywhere at once.
Care forgotten, he gripped the soft flesh of her back with his fingertips. She cried out softly as his nails dragged from her shoulders to the base of her hips, but he felt her walls clench around him in response. His tail curled up and around her waist of its own volition, holding her as she took him in further with each bounce of her hips.
She gasped and fell over him, hands braced on either side. She was already losing control. He felt his own release closing in, used the new angle of her hips to thrust up into her.
“Oh, Gods, yes–” Her mouth dropped open. She moved her hips back with each of his thrusts to take him more deeply.
Rolan thought he might shatter apart. Waves of searing desire swept harder and harder through him. She took him so perfectly, his cock almost painfully gripped by her tightening walls, so wet and lush and sweet and for him–
A hand flew up to the back of her neck to grasp and to pull her down so he could taste her as he came. Lips crashed together frantically as the pace of their bodies started coming apart at the seams.
In one bright concentrated moment, she shook and trembled violently into him as she grasped for whatever part of him she could reach. He managed one last stuttering thrust before his climax was ripped from him by her own, spilling inside of her clenching center, hurling him outside himself and into the wide Astral plane.
They shuddered against each others' bodies as white-hot waves receded outward farther and farther. Her head dropped to his shoulder as though she'd lost all muscle control.
He felt her slowing breaths fan out across his chest, and he rested a hand on the back of her head to keep her there.
-
As Rolan stared up at the wood-paneled ceiling above them, something cold dripped down at the base of him. He realized he was still inside of her. He swung his free arm over the side of the bed–still woozy enough from his climax that he nearly slid head-first to the floor–and snatched up his rumpled robes to clean them both.
She rolled off him then and cuddled up on her side to watch him. He mirrored her pose, adjusting against the pillows to make a spot for his horns. One of her fingers found the point of his ear and began tracing.
“How do you feel?” She asked.
Rolan sighed deeply. “Happy.” He could cast around for another dozen words, but he’d rather take her in. He smoothed a hand up and down along the curve of her side.
“So do I.” She leaned over to spread light kisses along his lips, then his jaw and cheek. His tail brushed against her leg in an idle caress.
She glanced down. “I didn’t actually know about…that.”
“Am I your first Tiefling?” He teased, though the thought genuinely pleased him.
“First and last,” she replied. The words were instantly locked away in his chest.
She gave a little shiver then, tucking her body against his warmth. He dug the covers up over themselves and wrapped her up tight with his arms and legs. The simple feeling of holding her brought him a deep sense of calm.
“I love this, Rolan.” Her lips moved against the hollow at the base of his neck. “I wish I could take tonight and carry it with me everywhere.”
Something sparked in him at her words. He opened his eyes and reluctantly released her to feel around the floor at the floor for his stained robe.
"What are you doing over there?" She lifted her head curiously to peer over the bedside.
"Just need to find something." He rummaged through his layers of discarded clothing before finally, his knuckle grazed something hard.
He slid back up under the covers beside her. She propped herself up against him, resting a palm on his chest with an expectant look.
He held out his thumb and index finger. Between them, an amber stone glinted in the dim light.
Her mouth fell open in recognition. For one second, he was afraid she might cry.
Then she buried her head in the crook of his neck, wrapping both arms tight around him. "I knew you were a darling all along."
#blowjobs and self esteem#bg3 rolan#rolan bg3#rolan x tav#bg3 fic#bg3 spoilers#i can't be trusted with this man apparently
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The sea devil
#my art#bob velseb#spooky month tender treats#bob velseb spooky month#bob velseb fanart#i would live to give him things…like blowjobs and self esteem#im sorry if y’all genuinely read my tags#i need to be banished#captain bob velseb#bob velseb aus
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#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#its cool to be queer#steve harrington/eddie munson#my oc#blowjobs and#self esteem
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Just read the THE VAULT and--
AHHHHHHHHHHHDHEHSHBABAHAJAJJAJAJJABSVDHDHSBDBHD
Someone pls hug that man cos I cannot bear to see him like that. Also that was bloody beautiful. Like YUS BE MEAN TO ME AND CRUSH ME UNDER YOUR WEIGHT AS I HOLD YOU IN MY ARMS AND OFFER UP ALL THE COMFORT I CAN MUSTER. ALL THAT IS HUMANELY POSSIBLE. 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
☁️☁️
Oh, my darling, thank you SO much!! You just made me smile the goofiest smile a human being can smile.
And YES, someone please give that man a hug because he's literally holding on by a fucking THREAD. I mean, just look at him.
Again, THANK YOU so much, and I hope you enjoy the rest of this little event just as much <3
#lizzi answers#lizzi’s vault#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock#this man is so broken can i just give him kisses hugs blowjobs and self esteem please
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seen a post that said
I wanna give him things like self esteem and blowjobs!
and I’ve never identified w a post more in my entire life🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽
#portgas d ace coded#I wanna worship him like the god he is#self esteem and BLOWJOBS‼️‼️🗣️🗣️🗣️#🧎🏽♀️🧎🏽♀️🧎🏽♀️#one piece#portgas d ace#ace ace ace ace ace#foaming at the fucking mouth#one piece portgas d ace#cutie portgas d ace#i want everything to do with him#manifesting a man who looks and is exactly like ace in my life rn
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Playing through the updated @the-passenger-if demo and god, jonny bby you're breaking my heart right here
#the passenger spoilers#jonny pls just let him love you you idiot#lucas like: i want to give him things like blowjobs and self esteem
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A Forbidden Invitation
Pairing: Best Friend’s Dad!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word Count: 11.5k
Summary: You think a one night stand from the summer, the best fuck of your life, is a done deal — a single, heated encounter that now lives vividly in your memories. But you learn that your actions have consequences when you befriend a new student, starting in the new term, and she invites you over to meet her Dad.
Warnings: Age gap, flashback, betrayal of friendship, manipulation, coercion, reader has severe daddy issues and self esteem problems, derogatory names, daddy kink, praise kink, smut, kissing, nipple play, blowjob, throat fucking, choking, fingering, pussy slapping, p in v sex, squirting.
Author’s Note: Unbeta’d, warning graphics and dividers by @rookthorne
“Come on, babe!” Rebecca whined at the edge of your bed. “You’re telling me a weekend away from this shithole doesn’t sound good?”
It had been a whole hour of your friend begging you to come back home with her for your midterm break and while you usually had the patience of a saint, it was difficult to keep composed as she refused to back down to your unacceptable reasoning.
You sighed, finally closing your laptop with an inwards huff and coming to terms that you would not be getting any more work done. Blowing out a breath, you leveled your gaze onto her.
“Becs,” you treaded carefully, mindful of her feelings. “It’s very sweet of you. But, I really need to get my work finished.” Rebecca’s face fell sullen and you rushed to explain. “I just like my time alone, y'know? I concentrate better.”
Her brunette hair fell over her eyes as she bowed her head. This girl really knew how to put on a show and you playfully rolled your eyes at her dramatics. But as she lifted her head with a pout and her wide, shining ocean blues, you knew you were done for.
Oh no. The puppy eyes.
“Hey!” You pointed at her. “No—stop that! I’m not changing my mind.”
The intensity of her stare only worsened while she slowly gained on you. “But what am I gonna tell my Dad when he asks when you’re not there?”
“Wait.” Clarity hit you then and you held your hand up to stop your friend in her tracks. With a glare you questioned, “Did you already say I was coming?”
The guilty twitch of her eye said it all. “Maybe—“
“Becca!”
“I couldn’t help it!” she swore. “My dad invited you, I couldn’t tell him no.”
“He invited me?” you asked, surprised.
“Yeah. The day we met, he called to see how I was doing—asked if I had made any new friends.”
She shrugged. “We’ve moved around a lot ever since I can remember and trying to fit in somewhere…” Her voice suddenly grew quiet as she solemnly whispered, “I’ve never had a real friend before. You’re the only one who’s been able to stick around for so long and he really wants to meet you.”
The frustration embedded in you faded out to make way for the sudden ache in your heart. To your knowledge, Rebecca was a new student who transitioned to your college in the middle of the recent school year. Both of you had a couple of classes together and the first time you ever saw her still reigned fresh in your mind.
The doors to the auditorium crashed open as she stumbled in late and out of breath to her first class. Strands of her brown hair fell from the messy bun on the top of her head and her cheeks coloured bright red; it pained you to watch her embarrassment as a room of over a hundred stared at her, along with the professor. And so began your friendship when you rushed out of your seat to help her with her huge stack of books, ushering her to the back to sit next to you.
Since then the two of you had been inseparable. Rebecca was a genuine, lovely girl — sweet and a breath of fresh air to your college life. She never failed to let you know how appreciative she was to your kindness of friendship, so even though you had only known her for a short while, it felt as though she was a true friend; one who would be staying around for a while.
Sighing in defeat, there was no way you could decline the offer after hearing she had been gushing over you to her Dad. “Okay, okay—Fine. I’ll come— AH!”
You squealed as she leapt onto you, knocking you back against your mattress as she profusely thanked you while vibrating with joy. The giggles and uncontrolled laughter that filled your room masked the unexplainable dread knotted in your stomach. But not wanting to tarnish Rebecca’s excitement, you let go of your worries for the time being.
Going to the club alone wasn’t an activity you made a habit out of; you understood the dangers of your vulnerability to men who couldn’t take a hint.
However, that summer night — a hazy memory now in the present — forbade common sense and instead, threw it out of the window. Not to be seen again until you woke up the next day.
The stress of the week had gotten too much for you; too many assignments needing to be handed in at once, your parents bombarding you with passive aggressive texts about their ongoing disappointment with you and the cherry on top of it all, you had caught your boyfriend cheating on you with the girl he had sworn you had nothing to worry about.
So of course, that week in particular had tested you. But instead of moping around your dorm room, your mind unhelpfully persisted with the motion to get shitfaced drunk and allow future you to worry about your problems. In the moment, you thought that to be your most genius idea of the week — letting your hair down in a sweaty nightclub around people you didn’t know and not caring about the consequences sounded perfect.
In hindsight, it was probably one of your most beautiful mistakes.
You remembered it all clearly. The newfound freedom of not giving a fuck, the humid air with the bass of the speakers invading your ears — every small detail added to the atmosphere as you were in your own world in the middle of the dancefloor, erotically swaying your hips side to side and running your hands through your hair.
The short cocktail dress you had worn to make yourself feel good illuminated your curves while also giving you the liberty to dance without limit to your movement. You wanted to forget for a while — go crazy and let loose.
Which was why the stunning pair of cerulean eyes that pinned you down across the room from the bar was your ticket to a night of fun — everything you needed at the moment in time. From your vantage point, the stranger looked to be in his forties, but in the best way possible. His form was built, the right amount of muscle carrying his frame and his grown out brown locks tucked behind his ears. No one had ever looked more sexy to you.
Aware of being the center of attention to an attractive stranger, you smoothed your hands down from your hair, seductively over your neck, teasing your glowing skin and finally to your chest. You bit your lip when his hungry stare that soaked your lace underwear focused on your tits, overspilling from your dress and you watched, smug and exhilarated as the unknown man tightened his fist against his tight trouser cladded thighs.
Through the whole night, the delightful burn of his stare never left you. A brand was marked into your skin; a warning to everyone else that you were spoken for — only for the night at least.
If you ordered a drink at the bar, the stranger was a couple of seats down from you, greedily lapping up your figure. If you were sitting in the smokers area, catching your breath and cooling down, he was there too, leaning against the brick wall smoking a cigarette with his attention solely focused on you, no matter the amount of women who were not so discreetly throwing themselves over him.
Even at the end of the night, as you once again danced to the deep bass of the beat among everyone else, he watched you from his own corner, still as enamored with you as the first time your eyes met.
Adrenaline spiked your veins. It was addicting to be the object of someone’s desires, to be seen.
You had only spoken through heated looks and loaded glances, but he was unlike any man you had encountered before. Mysterious and cryptic. You were just as lost in him as he was into you and you couldn’t have cared less that he was obviously older than you. It was what you needed. He was what you needed.
The buzz from the few shots you had taken reached their peak and you decided it was now or never to claim what you so rightfully deserved.
With a bounce in your step, you strutted in your heels through the crowd of people, never taking your eyes off your prize and him neither. He licked his lips as you closed the distance, stopping just before you bumped into the tip of his shoes.
“Listen,” you spoke over the music, determined and resolute. “I’m gonna skip past the pleasantries and bullshit.” The allured stranger raised his eyebrow, intrigued. “You want me and I definitely want you. So, do you want to get out of here?”
Your bravery faltered slightly as you realised in his close proximity how direct you had been. While you were almost certain this stranger was as attracted to you as you were to him, the tiny seed of doubt that a mature man wouldn’t want to hook up with someone as young as you revoked your liquid courage.
But that worry soon disappeared when he gave you a fierce once over now you were up close. A raging storm of lust and desire clouded his beautiful eyes, wild and desperate to get his hands on you. Your breaths came in quick and heavy as he smirked so sinfully. The bastard knew he held so much power in the palm of his hands when his body towered over yours, the difference in size between you not hard to miss. There you could tell the fun had already begun.
The rest of the club became a blur as he brought his mouth down to your ear. You felt each slow and steady breath against the curve of your neck and you were sure even in the darkness, he noticed the goosebumps that littered your skin. “All I need you to know tonight is my name.” His voice was as sexy as you had imagined, a deep, rasped husk that made your legs weak. But it was his next words that almost made you collapse. “Because it’s the only thing you’re gonna be screamin’ for the rest of the night, darlin’.”
Your mind grew foggy at the next sequence of events. The hustle of getting into a car and fiercely making out in the backseat until you arrived at an upscale hotel. Everything happened so fast. One minute you were waiting impatiently at the reception desk and the next you were stumbling into a lavish hotel room, unable to keep your hands off each other as items of clothing flew across the room in your haste to get naked.
The two of you bumped into the array of furniture in the hallway, the thought of tearing away from each other's lips unbearable. Bucky, you learned was his name, was an amazing kisser, his tongue gently teased yours as he threaded his fingers through your hair and he kept a firm grip of your cheeks like he was desperate to keep you close.
“Fuck,” he slurred between kisses. “You’re so— fuckin’— gorgeous.” His eagerness to keep his lips against yours while complimenting you spun you for a loop, unfamiliar to this kind of intensity.
The clink of dog tags were the culprit to halt your motions while he kept on kissing you, traveling down the slope of your neck and to your shoulders to bite your skin. As he was occupied, you took your chance to admire his physique. For a man his age, he was jacked — a toned stomach with several abs sharp enough to cut and two deliciously slender grooves running underneath his trousers to a bulge big enough for you to let an unhinged moan escape.
His body was sickening, he truly had no business to look as good as he did for a man his age. But like hell were you going to complain when all the boys at college disappointed you time and time again. The bar was low and this man had already exceeded your expectations, he was only supposed to be an idea fit for your wildest fantasies. Yet, there he was, real and existing.
Time was of the essence and you wasted none of it as you ripped yourself out of his hold, left in only your underwear, and dropped to your knees without pause to hurriedly remove his belt.
“Oh, shit.” He gulped. “Baby— baby—you don’t have to do that—“
You hushed his assurances and batted away his hands that tried to pull you up without real effort. “No, I don’t have to. But I want to.” Fluttering your eyes, you looked up at him and slyly smirked. “Let me suck your cock. You just worry about having a good time.” With a wink, you unlooped the expensive leather through the buckle and dropped it to the floor, soon after working to unzip his fly and rid him of the offending trousers that stood in your way.
The material slid down his thick thighs and he was left stood in his underwear, black briefs tented from his hard cock. A frenzied need to soothe the urge to get your mouth around him took the reins when you instantly nuzzled into his crotch.
“Fuck me, you’re a needy little slut aren’t you?” He wrapped your hair into a ponytail around his fist, controlling your movements. Though, there was no reason to, eager as you were. You would have done anything he asked.
You did do anything he asked.
You hummed while suckling the tip of his cock over the material of his underwear, “Mhm.” He threw his head back and groaned like a wild beast while you admired the wet patch growing on the fabric before your very eyes. It was unhinged — raw. But your stranger of the night didn’t seem to care, too fucked out as his eyes rolled back from pleasure.
Unable to control your burst of desire, you suddenly shucked his briefs down.
Your mouth fell open at the sheer size of him, an audible gasp echoed over the silence of the marble walls. Never had you seen a dick as pretty or big before and the drool that had gathered in your mouth began to leak out the side of your mouth.
You were aching for him.
With a cocky smile, the man tapped under your chin twice to direct your head upwards. “Up here, darlin’—I want those pretty eyes on me when you take my cock.”
Immediately opening your mouth wide and sticking your tongue out for him, he chuckled breathily at the crazed look in your dilated pupils. “Well, aren’t you just the biggest whore I ever did see.” Grabbing his cock and pressing the tip onto your tongue, he began to slide it forward. “Good fuckin’ job I like ‘em that way. Now open up wide so I can fuck your throat, baby—”
“Babe!”
Jolting out of your memory infused dream with a shriek, you span your head around to Rebecca in the drivers seat of her car. “Oh, there you are!” she hissed, teasingly. “I called for you like ten times. Where the fuck did you go?”
You swallowed the dryness coating your throat and hastily sat up. A hot sweat had settled over your skin and you immediately grabbed your water bottle from the footwell and chugged it down.
Once you had cooled down, you glanced back at your friend, cringing at the raised eyebrow that meant you weren’t getting out of an explanation. “I, uh— I’m sorry I didn’t—um—get much sleep last night,” you lamely replied.
The unimpressed expression on her face told you she didn’t believe you. But you were saved when her face suddenly lit up with glee. “Eek! We’re finally here!”
Had a three hour drive really gone by that fast?
Looking out the car window, your eyes widened when you saw an estate, guarded by iron gates around the whole property, surrounded by acres upon acres of land. You couldn’t tear your eyes away, even when Rebecca began animatedly speaking with someone by the toll station.
Who the fuck was this girl?
Eventually, she pulled up to the house, passing the stone driveway with a water fountain in the middle and cut the engine off. “Come on, you. My Dad’s expecting us.”
You were in a daze while you opened your door, stepping out the car and taking in every inch of the property. You would have never guessed your friend, the most down to earth and humble person on campus, had a lavish lifestyle with all the trimmings. It was clear she didn’t feel the need to brag about her privilege and her nonchalant attitude about it only baffled you more.
The doors to the mansion suddenly swung open and what you could only have presumed to be a butler promptly rushed towards the car. “Miss Barnes, how lovely to see you again.”
Rebecca scoffed and hugged the man without hesitation. “Don’t be silly. You know you don’t call me that.”
Even with her sweetness, he remained as professional then ever and brushed by her to pick up her bags. “Of course, Miss Barnes. Your father is out at the minute, but he has left you a gift by the entryway table.”
With a high pitched scream, your friend ran inside without looking back. It was hard not to smile at her carefree ways and trying to shake the deepening apprehensiveness from the moment Rebecca invited you, you rounded to the boot of the car to grab your luggage.
“That won’t be necessary, ma’am.” The butler immediately stepped forward and swiftly picked up your bags along with Rebecca’s with ease.
“Oh, no that’s okay, honestly! I can bring them in no problem!” You tried detesting, not used to any kind of special treatment.
But it was no use as he kindly insisted, “There is no need to worry. Please relax and join your friend, I believe there is a gift for you too.”
Sighing, you yielded and eventually followed in your friend’s steps, twiddling your fingers anxiously while you walked into the foyer of the mansion.
Carefully crafted marble walls with what you could only guess were decorated with millions of dollars worth of extravagant paintings, lined up neatly up to the grand, spiral staircase where a round oak table sat in front of it.
You instantly spotted two gift baskets, difficult to miss as they were both filled to the brim with an assortment of treats and bright pink tissue paper.
Rebecca was already busy appreciating hers, taking care to read the note her father had presumably left her and gushing over the copious amount of sweet treats, new nightwear and a cashmere blanket, like this wasn’t a regular occurrence to her.
However, it was surprising to see you had also been spoiled; all of your favourites, intricately placed in the hamper. Your eye caught the note addressed with your name on and hesitantly, you reached out for it and unfolded the card — a simple yet polite message inside.
I can only apologise that I wasn’t here upon your arrival.
I’ve heard great things about you from my Becs and I sincerely look forward to meeting you when I’m home.
Please make yourself comfortable and enjoy the contents of your gift basket.
J.B.B.
“Oh, he’s the best,” Rebecca swooned, hugging the white blanket to her chest. “He said he got called into work for a couple of hours so he should be back tonight.
You exhaled, flitting your eyes over your new gifts. The information eased your nerves slightly — you were never any good at meeting parents, whether that be of friends or partners. The dynamic of a happy household wasn’t one you had experience with and the idea of ruining first impressions caused an anxiety you didn’t particularly care to revisit often. Especially now that Rebecca had come into your life — a friend you could absolutely see yourself building a strong bond with.
Realising you had been silent for too long, you spoke up, “Your Dad is very kind.” Your fingers inched forward and ran over the soft material of your very own matching cashmere blanket, it felt like you were touching a cloud. From the corner of your eye, you caught your friend suddenly looking sheepish. “What’s wrong?” you asked, turning towards her.
“I’m sorry about all of this.” She vaguely gestured her hand up in the air, to which you guessed she meant the sheer amount of money that screamed in your face. “I didn’t warn you and I should have. It's just that—” Rebecca’s eyes darted down and she crossed her arms over her stomach, shrinking in on herself.
You stepped closer, rubbing your hand over her arm for comfort. “Hey, it’s okay. You can tell me.”
She took a deep breath before lifting her gaze to you and shrugging. “I didn’t know if your intentions would be good if you knew about the money.”
“Oh, Becs.” Your heart ached at the obvious trauma from her past. Squeezing her arm, you attempted to uplift the sullen mood with some playful teasing. “I became your friend because I couldn’t get rid of you. Although, now it doesn’t hurt to know your family is loaded.”
Reluctantly, the smile grew on her face, turning into a bright grin she no longer could hide. “You’re awful.”
“Tell me about it.” You winked, nudging her hip with your own. “Seriously, you’re a good person and I’m your friend because I want to be. I couldn’t give a fuck if you’re rich.”
The muscles of her body relaxed and she quickly pulled you into a hug. “Thank you, babe.”
“It’s nothing, silly.” You squeezed her one last time before breaking away.
Rebecca sniffled, blinking away the onslaught of tears that were close to falling before cheerfully grabbing her basket. “Come on then, let’s go set up and order some pizza.”
Picking up your own basket, you followed your friend up to her room.
The few hours spent working on your assignments, eating pizza and listening to music flew by. Spending so much time with Rebecca actually turned out to be fun. You usually spent all your free time by yourself, respiting into a hermit because of your inability to enjoy friendly companionship.
But it was to your surprise that you found yourself not regretting agreeing to the trip. The thought of being back at your dorm, wasting your night away by sleeping, watching trash tv and succumbing to the vibator in your bedside drawer begging you to relive a night of passion now seemed sad as you glanced at your friend and the corner of your lip curled up.
That bubble burst quickly when a shout coming from the foyer echoed up to the open bedroom door. “Rebecca, sweetheart—I’m home!”
Instantly, her eyes widened and she shoved the laptop she was using off her lap at once, squealing with joy before leaping off the bed and running downstairs. “Dad!”
Your fingers twitched over the keyboard of your own laptop in anticipation, looking towards the door and sighing in resignation.
Decidingly, you thought it was best to give your friend a moment with her father. Not at all because you wanted to prolong the inevitable as long as possible.
But as a couple of minutes went by, the tick of the pink clock on the desk getting louder and louder by the second, you figured your absence would go noticed and so you begrudgingly shut the lid of your laptop to slowly begin making your way out of the room.
As you reached the balcony at the top of the staircase, you looked down just as Rebecca hugged her Dad tightly. An ache panged in your heart.
You weren’t close with your parents; neither of them checked up on you or asked when you’d be coming home to see them. They only contacted you when they felt like spewing their badly-hidden resentment towards you and the hurt you thought you had buried long ago began to make its way front and center.
You shook your head and cleared your throat. You wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t tarnish your stay with your friend over something so silly — or be scared to meet her parent. So with a deep breath, you glided down the steps.
Rebecca’s Dad had his back turned to you, which meant you only saw his thick head of hair, tucked neatly behind his ears and the muscles of his back straining against the white dress shirt he wore.
You were unable to pinpoint the exact reason a tingle started to form in your lower stomach, the sensation extremely familiar by now, but you immediately scolded yourself and pinched the skin of your thigh to snap out of whatever mood had caused such depravity. This was your friend’s father; get it together.
As you reached the bottom of the steps, your friend’s eyes locked onto yours and her whole face beamed. “Dad,” she gasped excitedly. “I want you to meet my friend.”
You steeled your features; the warmest smile you could manage with the straightest posture possible.
Time stood still when Rebecca stepped back to let her Dad turn around. Your emotions were all under control and you finally felt like you could do this.
But that was until your eyes met and your face dropped. Those blue eyes, those damn blue eyes, you would remember them anywhere.
Bile began to rise in your throat when he faced you completely. Suddenly, you were thrown back to that forbidden night that all started with the same man across the room by the bar, watching you like you were his last meal. Bucky.
You held back a loud gasp, aware that Rebecca was witnessing the interaction. Though, your blood ran cold when his lips lifted into a grin, one you knew a little too well.
The palms of your hands were clammy with sweat and your heart hammered inside your chest. You weren’t sure how to play this, the stifling silence had already been stretched out ridiculously.
Rebecca’s voice broke the quiet with an awkward chuckle. “Sorry Dad, we’re a little stumped. Exams have been kicking our asses lately and the drive over was long.”
Guilt crippled you then. While you could never have known the one night stand who invaded your thoughts daily would turn out to be your best friend's father, it still didn’t change anything — you fucked her Dad.
He finally took his eyes away from you to swing an arm around his daughter and laughed in fondness. “Don’t worry, I understand, Becs—you girls must be exhausted.” He then lifted his gaze back to you. “You must be the one she hasn’t stopped talking about.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat. He doesn’t remember you? The lack of expression or recognition instilled a sense of hope within you.
Maybe he had forgotten about your night together — the low lighting of the club you met him at and the haze of alcohol hindering your senses as he took you to a hotel created a perfection concoction of forgetfulness you rationalised.
Eventually, deciding to act oblivious and hope for the best, you stammered up the courage to introduce yourself. “M—Mr Barnes. Thank you for letting me stay in your home.”
“Oh none of that, please.” A shiver raced down your spine, memories of begs and whimpers taunting your mind. “I’m James. But call me Bucky, darlin’.”
It took all the strength you had to trap the moan on the verge of escaping your lips. Yep, you definitely remembered that name.
Rebecca’s Dad stuck out his hand in front of you. “I’m very happy to meet you.” Your eyes darted between his hand and his face and then to your friend. Steadying your breath, you hesitantly placed your hand into his and felt his fingers tighten against yours. He shook your hand, his thumb gliding over your skin.
Tightening your lips in anguish, you replied, “V—Very happy to meet you, too.”
Bucky’s touch lingered against yours until you snatched your hand out of his when Rebecca hopped giddily and clapped her hands. “Oh, this is great! This weeks going to be so fun!”
You didn’t return the sentiment. This week was going to be your worst nightmare come to life — your biggest mistake being dangled on a string in front of you, only reminding you what a piece of shit you were.
“Okay, Dad. We’re gonna catch up on a little more work, so I’ll come find you later.” Your friend grabbed your hand that was limped by your side and started to pull you back up the stairs.
“Hard workers, ain’t you?” he laughed. “If you need anything let me know.”
“Thanks Dad, will do!” Rebecca shouted back down the stairs.
When you had reached the first landing balcony, you couldn’t help sneaking one more tiny glance at the one night stand you never thought you would see again. But your heart skipped a beat as you saw him already looking up at you and he slid his hand out of his suit pocket to wave at you before you disappeared.
You were sitting on Rebecca’s bed, waiting for her return when the inevitable happened.
An emergency she called it, when she slipped her feet into her shoes and swiftly threw on her hoodie, claiming an issue with her neighbour she absolutely needed to handle.
You had tried insisting on going with her, an extra pair of hands to help out. But she instantly pushed away your pleas, telling you not to worry and to focus on your work. That was Becca, a true sweetheart. But you wanted to strangle her then, scold her for leaving you in uncharted territory by yourself.
Nervous and on edge, you couldn’t concentrate on your assignment for the longest time. You consistently made quick glances to the open door of your friend’s bedroom, listened for footsteps upon the landing. Soon enough though, your nerves died down when nothing happened and it allowed you to focus on your laptop, finally becoming fixated on your assignment.
The only unusual thing that caught you off guard by yourself was the sudden heat of the house. You had built up a sweat in your hoodie and, unable to handle it, you took the fleeced material off in a swift flourish, leaving you in a tank top and shorts.
Other than that, you powered through, happy to be finally getting somewhere with your work. You weren’t even sure how much time had passed since Rebecca had left and the worry of how long it was taking her to come home slipped your mind.
Your guard was down while you hummed to the low music, lying on your stomach, back facing the door and typing away as you swung your legs in the air.
“I see you’re working hard.”
Yelping in fright, you almost fell off the bed, the deep grunt of Bucky’s smooth tone scaring you from the sanctuary of his daughter's room. You whipped your head around to see your friend’s Dad leaned against the doorway dressed in a tight black T-shirt and grey sweatpants, his dog tags rested against his chest.
The sight was a difficult one to swallow.
It was instinct to turn around so you were facing him as you raced to shuffle up Rebecca’s bed — a danger, your mind cautioned, to have your back turned to a wolf.
He held his hands out in front of him as he walked towards you, as though taming a frightened lamb. “Hey there, it’s only me. No need to be scared.”
“S—Sorry. I was a little lost in my assignment.” You apologised as you scrambled to gather all of your supplies together, desperate to gain some space from Bucky. “I think I’m done for the night, though. So I’ll just go downstairs and wait for Becca—“
“Hold up.” Bucky sat on his daughter's bed, leaving little to no proximity between you to effectively trap you in. “There’s no rush now, is there?”
Exhaling shakily, you stuttered, “N—No— um, not at all, Mr Barnes—“
“Bucky,” he corrected gently.
“Yes, B—Bucky.” You struggled to test his name on your tongue, not having spoken it since your night together. “I’m so sorry.”
Rebecca’s dad just laughed, amused at your rambling.
A tension, seemingly only one-way, swallowed you whole, threatening to drown you. It was impossible to hold direct eye contact with his ocean blues eyes, ones that ran vivid through your mind in your nights alone filled with heated memories and your biggest — now new favourite — vibrator.
His voice snapped you out of lust filled haze. “Rebecca shouldn’t be too long. Poor old neighbour lost his wife a couple of years back and Becs—the angel she is—goes over to help him when he needs it.”
You could see it. She was the sort to not think twice about helping anyone in need and the thought eased your mind. “Well,” you smiled, hoping you didn't look as awkward as you felt. “That’s very kind of her.”
“That’s my Becs,” Mr Barnes proudly grinned.
The room grew silent once again. Picking your fingernails, you fought to calm the cold, harsh anxiety eating away at you. It still seemed as though Bucky couldn’t remember you, but a nagging feeling in your gut wouldn’t let that settle your nerves.
“I just thought I’d come check on you anyway, sweetheart. Y'know, make sure you’ve settled in nicely for the week.” He smiled while placing his palm on the bed in the small space between you, leaning his weight against it as he got closer.
“Y—Yeah.” You cleared your throat before continuing, keeping your answers short. “Mhm, I’m all good, thank you.” You smiled tightly, hoping Bucky would take the hint to leave, but alas your luck was short.
“What you been workin’ on then, darlin’?” He nodded to your laptop resting on your legs.
“Oh, not much.” You downplayed. “Just a written piece, nothing major— no wait!—” Bucky cut you off as he abruptly swiped your laptop from your lap, the cold ring on his pinky finger brushing against the bare skin of your thigh. Before you could even think of hastily clambering for it back, he already had your laptop open and sitting on his thick thighs as he began reading.
“A psychology major, huh?” Bucky smirked, eyes scattering across the screen to take your assignment in. “Impressive. You’re a very clever girl.”
Heat quickly rose up your neck, warming your cheeks as you were rendered speechless. A heavy ache between your legs left you squeezing your thighs together because of his praise — his words sent you straight back to the night against the hotel’s glassed windows he had brutally fucked you against while worshipping how much of a good girl you were for taking all of him.
Quickly, you shook the intense thought from your mind, scolding yourself for letting it happen an umpteenth time. “Really, it’s nothing,” you said.
Bucky stopped reading your work and looked at you intensely, enough to make you squirm. “You really shouldn’t put yourself down like that.” Placing your laptop on the floor, he smoothly shuffled closer to you. You couldn’t help but stare at the hand he moved into your vicinity. His touch as he laid it on the naked skin of your thigh sent a thrill through your whole body. “Hasn’t anyone ever praised you before, huh?”
His intricate voice, delicate and gentle soothed you and excited you both in equal measure. The previous alarm bells blaring in your head were non-existent when he squeezed the meat of your thigh so tenderly with his large hands. “I— um— I don’t—”
“Nobody told you how proud they are of you?”
Your eyes glossed over as the shield you had built for yourself started to dismantle. Bucky was right. You were lonely and tired and you worked so hard for little reward. Your parents didn’t tell you they were proud of you, nobody ever told you how good you had been.
Bucky’s hand moved up to cup your cheek, his thumb delicately rubbing over your lip. You melted into his touch too quickly. “Shh, it’s alright, sweetheart. I’m proud of you.”
You willingly fell into a dangerous trap he had set out as your eyes fluttered closed. Your friend’s Dad’s caress was so familiar, even after so long — his scent intoxicating and his voice a melody to the scrambled mess in your head.
It didn’t occur to you then, the issue with Bucky inching more forward, almost until his chest was plastered to yours. The thought of his strange comfortability with his daughter’s friend wasn’t worthy of space in your head.
For once you weren’t thinking of Rebecca.
Until the slam of the front door ricocheted up the stairs and into her bedroom. “I’m home, Dad!”
Your eyes shot open and you gave yourself a quick second to get lost in Bucky’s gaze before you leaped up in panic.
You were half expecting him to also worry, to quickly dart out of the room. But instead he carelessly stood up from the bed along with you and combed his hair back with his fingers.
“Dad! Where are you?”
Pure terror. The fear of being caught in a compromising position with Bucky by your friend was overwhelming as your hands shook. Rebecca’s footsteps began to sound over the stairs and you closed your eyes, waiting for chaos.
It was only a couple of seconds after your stomach jumped in frightful anticipation when you felt her presence join you. “Babe, have you— What the fuck are you doing?”
Your stomach lurched. Slowly squinting an eye open, you saw your friend standing in the doorway looking at you in confusion. You steadily tracked your sight across the room, expecting to see Bucky. To your surprise, he wasn’t there anymore.
You opened your eyes fully, the fear easing away some though your nerves were still alight with edginess. “I don’t— I don’t know.”
“Um, okay?” Becca said wearily. “Anyway, have you seen my Dad, I wanted to talk to him before we head to bed.”
This was a chance, you inwardly thought. To tell your best friend about everything while your friendship could still be repaired.
But the probability of disclosing your secret and potentially ruining Rebecca’s life won out. “No. I haven’t seen him.” The lie tasted sour on your tongue and shame clawed its way back to the surface.
Your friend smiled brightly and shrugged. “No problem, I’ll go find him. I’ll be back to work on assignments in a minute.” She exited her room in search of her Dad.
You crumpled to the bed and hung your head in your hands, exhaling deeply. You’re a shitty person, the voice in your head supplied unhelpfully.
After a while, Rebecca had returned to her room and for the rest of the evening, you both worked on your respective assignments; her chattering away happily while you stared at the screen of your laptop blankly, adding nothing to the open document until the two of you decided to call it a night.
Unexpectedly though, instead of getting ready for bed together, your friend showed you to a guest room.
“Becca,” you laughed. “I thought I’d be staying in your room for the night. You know—with you?”
“Well, I told my Dad you liked your own space and he set up one of the guest rooms for you. It's no biggie.” She shrugged.
Right. Because of course you wouldn’t be staying with her when there were an endless amount of spare bedrooms on the first floor alone.
You cursed yourself in that moment, reliving your protests of spending the midterm break alone because of your need for space.
“Are you sure?” You tried again, the vulnerability of being by yourself without the buffer of Rebecca taunting you. “We could have a sleepover! Watch movies and stay up late!”
But she just raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Girl, I know you are dying for a minute to yourself—to relax and decompress.” Holding your hand, she softly laughed. “I practically begged you to come here and you agreed. You’ve been more kind to me in the minute we met than most of my old friends over the span of the years I knew them. So please, the least I could do is give you a break during the nights.”
The guilt ate you alive; her selflessness and naturally good heart steadily chipping away at your conscience. Why the hell did she have to be so nice?
Putting on your best smile, you tried to rid of the nasty voice spitting venom inside your head. You slept with her fucking Dad, you whore — you don’t deserve this. Outwardly, you said, “I don’t deserve this, Becs. It's too much.” A somewhat admittance of the truth; the full story you would take to the grave, if only to keep your friendship intact.
“Oh, hush. Of course you do.” She pushed you away playfully into your new room. “Now go freshen up and get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Clenching your hands in unexplained nerves, you wished her goodnight while she began to walk down the hall to her own room. “See you tomorrow, Becs.” The door closed with a click and you dropped your forehead against the wood with a loud thud.
You could do this, you reasoned with yourself. It was only for a couple of days, and as long as you stayed close to Rebecca and was not left alone with her father, you could ignore your inner thoughts — the vile, disgusting voice that simultaneously begged you to to crawl on all fours to him like a desperate bitch and be ashamed of your sins.
It wasn’t difficult to fall asleep. Exhaustion from the events of a long day and a shower with the most luxurious products you had ever used assisted you with that and you whispered an internal gratitude to the fluffy pillows you laid your head on for helping you escape reality before you closed your eyes.
However, you were awoken from your deep slumber when the rattle of your bedroom door knob interrupted your dreamless sleep. You had to fight the heaviness of your body as you sat up, rubbing your eyes with a groan before you tried squinting through the darkness to no avail.
The sudden thought of your friend coming to annoy you after all surprisingly made you crack a smile. “Becs?” you sleepily called out.
The latch of the door clicked as it steadily creeped open and you rolled your eyes at your friend’s antics. “If you’re trying to scare me then ha ha—very funny, dork.”
Your sight began to adjust, outlines and shadows soon becoming more clear but still a struggle to make out in the late hour.
Though there was no response from your friend. Silence shrouded over the room with only your small breaths to be heard.
You stared at the doorway expectedly, waiting for a response you wouldn’t get. “Becca?” you called out warily once more.
But that time, as the door clicked shut with a deafening loudness, a deep voice — one that definitely did not belong to your friend — answered. “Y’know, you look just as pretty as you did the night we met.”
Cold dread had every muscle of your body locking up. It became clear then that it wasn’t Rebecca that had entered your room. More so a tall figure, clad in only his underwear and his dog tags.
“M—Mr Barnes?” your lips quivered with panic. “What— What are you doing?”
Every clink of the metal around his neck haunted you with each step he made closer. You scrambled up towards the headboard, plastering yourself against the wood.
Pointless when he sat beside you on the bed, bending his knee to lean one leg against your thigh. The feel of his bare skin against yours burned.
“No need to be afraid, sweetheart,” Bucky chuckled. “You know me, don’t you?”
You gulped. Sudden dizziness blurred his face to your eyes and the deprivation of your sight made his touch all the more electrifying when he swept your hair to the side and kissed your shoulder.
A shudder ran down your spine, the strap of your silk nightgown falling down your arm and stripping you of your only defense left against him.
“Mr Barnes,” you tried again, more pleadingly.
“What have I said about calling me that, hm? You know my name well enough by now, pretty girl. You’ve screamed it enough.” His tormenting laugh vibrated through you while he still peppered feather light kisses across your skin.
You begged your body to move, for your hands to push him away and your voice to shout for Rebecca. Alas, you kept to your place, still as stone.
“You can’t— you can’t be here,” you whispered shakily.
Bucky smirked. “Oh really? Is this not my house, sweetheart?” Your nipples pebbled against the silk material covering them as his breath cascaded goosebumps over your skin in its trail. “Been tryin’ so hard to restrain myself since I saw you again this mornin’. But I can’t fuckin’ hold back anymore.”
“You remember me,” you managed to choke out.
Bucky hummed, laving his tongue over the sweat building on your neck. “Like I could ever forget a girl like you.”
The knot in your stomach tightened, each press of his lips over your body immobilising you further. Bucky knew who you were, from the moment your eyes connected in the foyer. The reality set in then — deep and unsettling and delicious, all at once.
“I had to act like I didn’t know you, baby. Couldn’t have Rebecca finding out her only friend knows the taste of her Dad’s cock now, could I?”
You felt sick. Your mind raged in war between a guilty conscience and your own pleasure. To give in would be evil, so horrendously sick and twisted.
A single tear dropped from your watery eyes and slowly rolled down your cheek, the sudden saltiness hitting Bucky’s tongue and making him groan. “Fuck, don’t tease me already, baby.”
“She’s my friend,” you whimpered. “I can’t do this to her.”
Bucky looked up, a soft expression on his face. “Oh, darlin’. I love her too, really.” His lip curled up then, a wolfish gleam in his eye. “But I can’t go another minute without touchin’ you.”
Placing his forehead against yours, his hand traveled up from your thigh, all the way over your stomach until he reached your tits. You squeezed your eyes tightly closed when his forefinger and thumb pinched your nipple through the silk. “Doesn’t this feel good, hm? Doesn’t this feel right?”
Against your will, you released a high pitched keen. “Bucky.”
His chest rumbled in delight, a deep purr in your ear. However, your mind still bartered with itself, unrelenting in its inability to give in. “But what if Becca—?”
“She doesn’t have to know a damn thing, baby.” Bucky turned his head and bit over the pulse of your neck. “It’ll be our dirty little secret.”
Your head was filled with clouds, a fog smothering over any rational thought. Especially with the way Bucky began to sneakily slip the other strap of your nightgown down. He was mesmerising in his actions, his fragile touches that made you feel special.
You so desperately wanted to feel special.
Just like he made you feel back in the summer.
The evil voice in your mind hissed at you — dirty, disgusting, whore. The hopeful one became louder — lonely, unloved, tired.
You were so fucking tired.
The fight in you left. You were a goner, a sacrificial lamb while you tilted your head back to reveal more of you. The walls you so carefully crafted came crumbling down pathetically.
Bucky didn’t waste any time taking advantage of that. “There’s my good girl. Let it happen, baby.”
The moon shone through the window, becoming the only source of light in the darkness and its glow blanketed over the same features as the strobe lights in the club back in summer.
Fate hadn’t been on your side from the moment it cruelly introduced Becca into your life when it had already manifested your demise with her Dad. So who were you to try and change it?
Letting your body take control over your mind, you turned your head, grabbed Bucky by the back of his neck and crashed your lips to his — finally giving into temptation. His answering moan of shock and arousal made you more daring and you snuck your tongue into his mouth too.
Bucky ripped away, a string of saliva connected between your lips. “You still wear the same fuckin’ cherry chapstick,” he groaned, before squeezing your breast tightly. “Fuck—go lay your head at the end of the bed for me, sweetheart. Want that shit around my cock.”
With urgency, you rushed over to the edge of the mattress, lying on your back and making sure your head hung over the bed. Your view was upside down, warped while you watched Bucky stroll towards you with bated breath.
He stood behind you, all menacing and tall — you had never felt smaller in your life, though you liked the feeling with him.
The veins on Bucky’s forearm bulged from his skin as he brought his hand to your throat. Lightly, he caressed his thumb over the junction of your neck. “Do you remember how eagerly you sucked my dick last time?”
You swallowed the lump in your throat, the bob of it transcending under his large hand. “I— I do.”
He smirked down at you. “You gonna make me proud again, baby?”
Your eyes glazed over with neediness. “Please—Want to make you proud of me.”
His bright white teeth gleamed with his predatory smile. “Stick out your tongue for me, darlin’.”
Doing as he asked, you opened your mouth and let your tongue hang out, uncaring to how easily you obeyed his commands.
“Good job, sweetheart.” Bucky brought his hands up to his underwear and with a swift pull, his black briefs fell to the ground.
You preened like a cat at the sight of his cock bobbing into your view. The light casting in from the moon glistened over the underside of his dick, the purple head pulsing harshly.
Bucky pumped his cock slowly twice, a premature pearl of cum gathering at the head. “You ready for me, baby?”
Nodding your head hungrily up at him, you whined, “Uh-huh.”
Bucky positioned himself closer to you, your head hung between his spread legs. You waited in anticipation for him to inch forward and slide his length down your throat, but instead he tapped the head of his cock against your wet tongue.
The resounding slap caused you to rub your thighs together in agony, the feel of his heavy weight divine.
“Aw, babygirl,” Bucky teased. “You missed me that much you can’t help those tingles already, huh?” He tapped his length against you again and his eyes fluttered. “There’s more where that came from.”
The desperation to wrap your lips around his cock was overbearing and so you sealed your mouth around him, suckling the tip with a refound hunger.
“Holy fuck.” Bucky’s legs trembled at the shock of your sudden confidence. “Oh, just like that, sweetheart.”
You swiped your tongue around the bulbous head of his dick, moaning rabidly at his salty taste. Bucky’s natural musk was addictive and you tried to shuffle your body closer to take more of his length, but he quickly grabbed your hips to stop you. “Woah—slow down there. Daddy’s the one runnin’ the show tonight, not you.”
You let go of his cock with a pop. “Please, Daddy.” Your pleas were breathless as you panted for air. “Want all of you—please!”
Leaning over until his lips brushed yours, Bucky kissed you deeply before murmuring, “Don’t worry your pretty little head about that, I’ll make sure you take all of me.”
He stood back up promptly, giving you whiplash in your current state. “Now open that slutty little mouth. Wide.”
Hardly giving you time to do as he asked, Bucky shoved his entire length down your throat. Your eyes widened as you gagged around him.
“Shh, baby. You’re okay, relax.” Opposite to his brutal force, he brushed softly over your chin. “You can handle me. You’ve done it before, right?”
Breathing through your nose calmly was a challenge with his thick cock limiting your intake of oxygen. But you wanted so badly to fulfill Bucky’s wishes. So closing your eyes and willing yourself not to panic, you focused your breaths.
“There we go.” The pride in his tone was exhilarating. “Knew you could do it, darlin’.”
Bucky kept still for a few more seconds, allowing you to get used to the intrusion of the new position before he began to ease his cock out of your throat and gently push back in. “Yeah, you remember my cock don’t you, sweetheart? Your tight little throat feels so fuckin’ good.”
Your hands came up to grip the back of his firm thighs to ground yourself. You felt every inch of him glide down until his tip reached your windpipe and you coughed violently, sputtering around him.
“That’s right, baby. Choke on me.” Bucky upped the speed of his pace then and your nails dug deep into his flesh.
While his actions turned harsh and forceful, your pleasure grew and with your squirming, the skirt of your nightgown began to ride up your body without you realising.
Bucky did though, almost immediately. You couldn’t see how his eyes snapped towards the bare skin of your thighs and lower stomach and to his pleasant surprise, you weren't wearing any panties.
The sound of his laughter while his hips continued to pump into you made your nerves spike.
“My sweet girl,” he cooed short windedly. “You must’ve known I was coming, huh? Not wearing anything under that cute little outfit.”
You squealed, unable to say anything while sucking his cock, though the vibrations of your moans made Bucky’s thrusts falter.
“Fuck—shit, baby. I almost forgot how good you are at that,” he laughed. His hands traveled tantalising over your stomach until he reached the bottom of your nightgown. “Let Daddy see what you’ve been hidin’ from me.”
The silk material unpeeled from your skin as Bucky lifted it over your breasts. Your full body was on display for him and you fidgeted bashfully under his scrutiny. Your sight was compromised, your movements were limited and your thoughts were scrambled.
“Oh, darlin’. You’re a doll, ain’t you?” Bucky’s rough and calloused hands smoothed over your bare skin. He palmed your breasts roughly, just once before inching down to your lower stomach. “Now, you gonna show me what I really wanna see?”
It didn’t take you a second to spread your legs for him, the cold air hitting your soaked cunt.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Open those gorgeous thighs for me, I wanna see how wet my baby girl is.”
Bucky leaned over your body, pushing his cock even further down your throat. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, but your body soon jolted at the feel of his finger sliding through your folds.
You screamed around his dick and tapped his thighs for a breather, which he so graciously granted. As soon as he tilted his hips to let his cock fall out of your mouth, you gasped loudly. “Oh my god— Bucky, I can’t. I can’t I can’t, please—”
Your hoarse voice was cut off when Bucky wrapped his free hand around your throat. “Shut the fuck up and take it.”
His cock laid against your cheek while he looked into your eyes. He forewent easing you into it and instead forced two of his fingers into your cunt. You were about to cry out until he shoved his cock down your throat again with a sigh. “Guess Daddy’s gonna have to keep you quiet—such a noisy girl.”
The clink of his dog tags with each thrust mixed with your gurgles around his cock, a mixture of your spit and precum bubbling around your mouth and running messily down your chin. The stretch of his fingers unprepared was painful and yet it blended perfectly into pleasure. “Mmph!”
“Yeah? You like that, sweetheart?” Bucky choked when he thrusted into your mouth at a particular angle. Taking advantage of his legs twitching erratically, you managed to release his dick and reach further back to his balls.
Wasting no time, you sucked them into your mouth while his cock slapped against your cheeks, smothering precum all over your face.
“Fuck,” he groaned, keeping the steady rhythm of his fingers pumping into your pussy. “You filthy fuckin’ whore—you just want all a’me don’t ya?”
You hummed while playing with balls, using your tongue to tease over his perineum. Bucky was losing his composure fast and the thrill of it made the knot in your stomach tighter.
But not one to be outdone, he ripped his fingers out of your cunt and slapped your clit, hard. You let go with a pop and squealed his name. “Bucky!”
You tried closing your legs, the sensation too overwhelming. Though it was useless with his strength as he held your thighs apart to carry on bringing his hand down firmly on your cunt. “I thought you wanted to play dirty, darlin’,” he growled. “Daddy’s just having some fun.”
Your body jolted with each slap delivered. You took it, even when the pain became too much and you thought you would pass out, until Bucky decided to give you respite. He left your pussy sore and aching as he lifted up away from you. A whine tore from your throat.
“That's what happens when you don’t do as I say.” You were manhandled up and into Bucky’s arms as he sat down against the headboard. He moved you around without a hint of struggle and placed you on his lap, facing away from him. “Good girls don’t disobey Daddy, do they?”
“No,” sighed. His hard, thick length stood firm against your ass, his dog tags soothingly cold against your warm back and you whimpered pleadingly while grinding back into him. “Want it in me.”
Bucky’s laughter vibrated through you. “Yeah, baby? Wanna bounce on Daddy’s cock?”
“Yes! Please!” you cried.
Gliding his hands around to your front, he pinched each nipple. “Well, I’m not stoppin’ you. Go ahead.”
You inhaled deeply, gathering all your strength to lift up on your shaky legs. Using Bucky’s thighs to hold yourself, you tilted your hips up until your heat skimmed over the head of his cock. “O—Oh, oh shit,” you stuttered at the sensation.
Bucky’s head thumped back against the headboard. “God—I’ve fuckin’ missed that cunt.”
His enjoyment allowed you the courage to balance on one hand while your other reached down to grip his thick length. A strangled noise rose from Bucky’s throat, but you ignored it and swept his tip through your folds.
“Look who’s gotten brave, huh?” Bucky laughed breathlessly while he played with your tits. “Not thinkin’ about poor Becs now are you, baby?”
Before the harsh retort could dig deep and make a home in your conscience, you shook your head and let his cock catch on your clenching hole. “Wanna be filled again.”
“Then do somethin’ about it, darlin’.” Bucky rested his chin on your shoulder and you both looked down to where your sex rested on his length. Your stomach sucked in with your uneasy breaths and after internally counting down, you dropped your hips.
“Fuck!” Bucky’s hands gripped your breasts tightly, something to help him through how good the slick glide felt. You did the same, latching on to his meaty thighs. “Shit.”
Your chests rose and fell in tandem, but the sensation of feeling so full made you tighten around his cock. “I need to move, Daddy.”
His mouth moved over your neck as he spoke, “Go on, babygirl. Milk Daddy’s cock.”
With his approval, you began to angle your hips up, letting his length slide out of you until the very head rested snug in your hole and then sank down again steadily. Your breath hitched while your head fell back onto his shoulder.
“Just like that, sweetheart. Fuck—just like that. Keep going for me.” Bucky’s hands smoothed down to your hips and gripped them, helping you move over his cock.
“You’re so b—big,” you whispered. “Forgot how big you are.”
“Oh, I know. But you’re doing so good for me, aren’t you?” he cooed.
“Mhm,” your head bobbed lazily up and down with your motions. “I’m your good girl, right?”
Bucky grunted and made you bounce faster. “The best, baby. Such a good girl for me.”
His dick throbbed angrily inside you, its length scraping your walls and stretching you with its girth. The clapping of your thrusts grew louder, more depraved as you lost control from the divine pleasure. Had you been thinking more clearly, you would have been careful about your volume, but all your inhibitions went out the window long ago.
“Need more,” you slurred. “Wanna cum, but need more Daddy.”
“Shh—I know what you need, sweetheart.” Bucky slithered his hand down your stomach and to your heat. With your legs spread wide over his, it gave him ample opportunity to snake his fingers over your engorged clit and begin circling them.
You squeaked, instantly snapping your legs closed around his hand. “Bucky, wait!—”
But he forced your legs open and slapped your clit, making you jump with a shout. “Don’t you fuckin’ tell me to wait. You asked me for more so you’re getting more, you slut. What happened to wantin’ to make me proud, hm?”
You sobbed as a tear tracked down your cheek. “I— I do!”
“So then you’ll take it—won’t you?” Bucky growled against your ear.
Sniffling, you nodded, panting while bouncing on his cock. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
You hiccuped. “Yes, D—Daddy.”
Bucky hummed in approval and began thrusting up to meet your stride. “That’s more like it.”
You took what he gave you while he fucked up into your pussy. The strain of your muscles was almost unbearable, but you persevered through the pain — to be the center of his attention, to be so utterly wanted felt too compelling to give up.
His thrusts were harsh, rough enough to have your toes curling and his balls to smack against your skin. All those sensations paired with his ruthless circles on your clit blended to build your impending orgasm. “I’m so close,” you gasped.
“Me too, babygirl.” Bucky grunted, biting into his plump bottom lip. “Gonna empty my load inside a’you.”
You preened, the walls of your pussy clenching around his length. “Please.”
Bucky’s hips worked overtime, a ferocious beast taking over in its haze. He brought his free hand up to your cheeks and squished them together. “Who’s Daddy’s little cumslut, huh?”
“Me,” you cried. “I’m Daddy’s cumslut.”
“Fuck yeah you are,” he snarled. “And now that I’ve got you back you’re not fuckin’ goin’ anywhere.”
You were too dizzy to comprehend the weight behind his words, instead you slammed your hips up and down in time with Bucky’s movements, chasing the tightening in your lower stomach.
“You ready for me, darlin’?” he asked.
You swallowed the dryness in your throat. “Uh-huh.”
“Good. Now hold on.” Without waiting for you to reply, he grabbed under your thighs and lifted you. You were held up solely by his arms as he powerfully began to fuck you.
You became mute, mouth hung open on a continuous silent scream. The feeling was like no other; Bucky’s pure strength and huge length tore you apart, physically and mentally.
“Gonna,” thrust, “fill,” thrust, “this,” thrust, “gorgeous fuckin’ pussy.”
Your tongue lolled out of your mouth like a dog, drool dripping down your chin while your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You were on the verge of cumming. “Close.” You had been reduced to one syllable words.
“I know, baby. I fuckin’ know—Can feel you,” Bucky gasped. “Let go for me, darlin’.” It was only when the angle of his hips changed and the head of his cock repeatedly nudged against your cervix that the balance of your orgasm tipped over.
“Hnng—Fuck!” You walls trapped Bucky’s dick in a tight chokehold as your thighs shook in a spasm. He continued to grind up into you, releasing his warm load into your pussy.
“Bucky!” you keened while your walls fluttered around his length. The rush was unlike any you had experienced before and an errant thought that any consequence was worth it to cum like that again swirled through your mind. “Made me— made me cum so hard,” you slurred.
Your high began to simmer down and you felt like you could regain control over your mind until Bucky’s hand came down onto your clit again. “One more,” he breathed into your ear. “Gimme one fuckin’ more.”
Your eyes shot open and you shook your head, rapidly. “C—Can’t,” you managed to croak. “Too much.”
You reached down to try and pry his hand away from you, but he was too strong. “I said I want one more.” Bucky held your arms to your chest then, beginning to rub your clit in fast circles.
An unusual pressure built up quickly and you panicked. “Bucky—something’s wrong.”
But he sucked over your neck, easing your worries. “You’re okay. It's okay, baby. Just let it happen, remember?”
You writhed in his hold, moaning salaciously. “I’m— I’m g—gonna cum again.” The feel of his cock still filling you, his cum seeping out of your whole which each dirty grind he made, the sensation of his tongue against your neck and his tireless fingers was all too much.
“Cum for Daddy then, darlin’.” A couple of circulations later and you screamed out in unimaginable pleasure. Your stomach swooped and the next you knew, a strong pressure forced Bucky’s cock out of your cunt. A rush of liquid sprayed out of you and covered the entirety of the bedsheets.
“There we are,” he grinned wickedly. “Exactly what I wanted.”
It felt like it went on forever. Bucky didn’t let up on his insistent rubbing. But as soon as the last juices squirted out of you, you deflated into his chest, breaths heaving with utter exhaustion. You were too tired to keep your eyes open, body boneless and overexerted. Your body jumped with aftershocks, tiny zings of electricity igniting your nerves.
Bucky finally slowed his fingers down to a stop on your clit. Your back rose and fell with his pants, each puff of his exhales hitting your sensitive skin and making you shiver.
“Holy fuck,” he laughed deliriously. “That was—fuck.”
Internally agreeing, you hummed, incapable of formulating words. Bucky’s arms wrapped around you while he placed a kiss to the back of your head and you enjoyed being surrounded with his warmth and comfort. “You were perfect, babygirl,” he mumbled. “Did so fuckin’ good for me. Made Daddy so proud.”
A wide smile curled onto your face as your eyes remained closed. You were falling out of consciousness, giving in to sleep fast.
“Let’s get you comfy.” You didn’t stir when Bucky began to lift up, or when he rearranged your form so he could carry your limp body in his arms.
Your body bounced with each powerful step he made. Vaguely hearing the room door open, a cold blast of air hit your heated skin and you shivered, snuggling closer into Bucky’s chest.
Your head swam with fuzziness. You couldn’t bear to open your eyes with their heaviness. But you felt as you were delicately placed onto a large, comfortable bed, stacked with pillows and fitted with dry sheets, along with Bucky’s delicious scent that tickled your senses.
A soft kiss was pressed onto your cheek, a firm hand curling around your waist and just before you could succumb to sleep, you heard his last words. “You get some rest now, sweetheart. We’ve still got a whole week ahead of us.”
You were sure the mortification would hit you in the morning. Pure regret sinking deeply into your skin and making you feel sick to the core.
But you also knew now that any chance of quitting your best friend's dad had been lost. Because Bucky was a guilty pleasure, a rush you couldn’t bear to give up — no matter the consequences and no matter who it would inevitably hurt.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky x you#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes one shot
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s2 doodles!!
Support me on Patreon or send a tip on Kofi!
(ID in alt and under cut)
ID: 1a. Knees up of Izzy limping past and leaning heavily on his mop-crutch on a mottled blue background. He looks over, frowning, as Frenchie pops up in the foreground and calls, "Hey, Izward! Made somethin' for ya!" 1b. Full body of Izzy standing unassisted, staring down his left calf which has been replaced with a wooden leg and hoof. Frenchie stands nearby and gestures full-bodied to him like the Will Smith meme, shouting "Ta-da!" 1c. Bust of Izzy as he looks back up at Frenchie, trying hard to glare even as grateful tears well up in his eyes. He grits out, "I hate it." Close up in the foreground, Frenchie just grins. 2. Knees up of Fang and Jim sitting together on a mottled red background. Fang is shaking with sobs and hiccups, nose running, a dirty handkerchief clutched in both of his hands, and kohl streaked down his face and into his beard. Jim leans over, elbows on their knees, to look at him with mild concern and ask "How do you even have tears left, man?" Fang shakily replies through his sobs, "I-I keep myself ve-ve-very well hydrate-he-heeeeed..." There is a metal water bottle clipped to one of the rings on the shoulder of his leather vest. 3. Bust of Stede on a mottled green-brown background, arms against a surface in front of him and resting his cheek longingly against one hand. He sighs and says, in the form of a screenshot of text messages, "I want to give him things. Like blowjobs and self-esteem." /end ID
#ofmd#izzy hands#frenchie ofmd#fang ofmd#jim jimenez#stede bonnet#blackbonnet#gentlebeard#stedward#mlm#our flag means death#my art#fanart#image described#ofmd s2 spoilers#ofmd spoilers
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fogging up nerd armin's glasses.
𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍 — アルミン ⋅ fem reader
NOTES: damn i rlly be making my entrance to hell with this 🫡 kidding. ENJOY MY FELLOW NASTY BXTCHES 😈 the poll ain't even finished but i whipped this up in preparation for the armin prompt winning so i can satisfy our nerdmin craving lol
🔞 mdni / 18+ content
SUMMARY — nerd armin being pathetic for u until he snaps 'n puts u in ur place and does a full 180 :)
WARNINGS — smut, stereotypes (nerd, popular girl), mean reader / "pathetic" min -> mean min
SMUT WARNINGS — nasty kinky smut, implied experienced reader, namecalling (bxtch — both ways, he uses your own spells against you like some mf sev. snape, slvt,), stereotype kink (?) if that's what it's called, calling him/you pathetic, (mean) (nasty) dirty talk, oraljob (m. receiving), cvm swallowing, unprotected sex (implied taking the pill tho), creampie, dom/sub dynamics (switching), mean reader -> mean armin later, slight overstim, slight size kink, mentions him watching/learning from pxrn + mxsturbating with a pillow, please lmk if i have missed a warning!!
WORDCOUNT ≈ 1.2k
🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !
gold-framed, oversized, round glasses slip down his nose. there's a slight fog gradient creeping from the bottom of the lenses, owed to the searing heat coming from his dampened cheeks.
he's never felt this good in his life and you know it, that's partly why you offered to give him head in the first place. the other reason was to pay him back for helping you study for the past couple of months. he's showed up at your dorm room every weekend, textbooks clutched tight to his chest, back of his hand pushing those round glasses up his nose by the rim. there's faded freckles speckling his face and an ever-present boyishly red blush adorning his cheeks and ears.
that blush becomes more prominent when you have him like this. head tilted back, fistfuls of your bedsheets clutched tight in his delicate hands, head spinning. he's got the most picturesque blissed-out face, a real erotic expression straight out of a hentai. you don't need to even ask if he's ever gotten sucked off before, because the answer is clearly no. no way he has. he is the most straight-laced, uptight student — valedictorian, of course, and when he's not the best in school he's upset with himself. self-esteem so low, but your mouth is doing wonders to bring it back up. because he's receiving a sloppy blowjob from the most popular girl in school.
"oh my g—o–oood that's s-so fuck-fucking good!" he chokes.
the poor boy started out so quiet, able to swallow every moan and erotic noise. but when you really got into it? he lost it. he's been whimpering on your bed with you between his spread legs for an hour now.
"please don't fucking stop — fuck! — please 'm begging you, don't stoppp! yesyesyes fuck, ahhhah — oh my god i'm gonna go crazy if you lick it like that."
you give your jaw a break and pop off his cock, earning a startled whimper from him. he is so fucking pretty laying there, wettened blond bangs stuck to his forehead, blue eyes half-shut, textbook being nudged off by his elbow. and just an hour ago that textbook was being held in his hand while he taught you in that know-it-all voice of his.
now all his voice sounded like was pathetic, and you made sure to tell him that. "you sound so fucking pathetic." you smile up at him. his dick jumps and throbs, precum beads out and you swipe your tongue over his slit to collect it.
" 'm pathetic for you, 'm all for you — ouhhh fuck!" he goes into another lust daze, it looks like he's slipping from reality when your plush lips engulf his cock. and you haven't even shown off your deepthroating skills yet. how is he gonna survive that?
the answer is; he doesn't. he squirts out three hot, thick jets of cum the split second he feels his cock hit the back of your throat. the slight contractions of you swallowing made him let out the most broken, nasty whimper you've ever heard a man make.
you pull off and gulp all his cum down. "jeez, 'min, you moan like a bitch." you giggle meanly. he's absolutely getting off to your dirty talk. he wishes it was right in his ear.
but there's some hidden part of him that wants to throw you into a fatiguing position and bliss you out with some mean strokes. that secret little part of him seethes when you call him pathetic. oh you think he can't make you cum? he could ruin you with his cock. he knows it.
so when he goes home after your 'study' sessions, he watches porn and learns how to stroke right, how to play with that lil kitty of yours, how to lick it how to fuck it and how to ruin it. it's like a study session itself. he even practices with his pillow, thrusting his hips into it, mimicking the rhythm of the pornstar on his screen. practicing his smart mouth on his fist or fruits, learning how to control his tongue better, pretending it's your pussy.
your next few study sessions with him are riding practice.
you're teaching him everything he needs to know to destroy you, and you don't even realize that he's absorbing the information with the intention of using it against you. oh, you like your clit rubbed like that? you like it fast, like it slow? you like dirty talk? creampies?
"you're fucking nasty." he talks back to you for the first time when you're demonstrating how to hit it from behind.
you're caught so off-guard, all you can do is smile in shock.
"what'd you say?"
"nothing." he lies sweetly.
with that, he snaps his hips flush against your ass. those delicate hands that you taught many things to are now squeezing your hips with a nearly bruising grip, just how you told him you like.
those pretty lips that you taught how to french kiss and taught how to eat pussy are now brushing against your cheek, muttering dirty talk just how you told him you like.
"mmm who's a bitch now?" he seethes, cock sinking so deep that you kick your feet around.
"oh m- oh fuck! hahhhh, 'min 'min 'min! f-f-fuck don't stop! don't you fucking stop talking to me like th-that — oh my god that's the fucking spot, right there right there, harder please right fucking thereee!!"
he chuckles behind you, genuinely amused by how you sounded like a bitch in heat. it's like the both of you swapped places completely.
that pretty fat cock pumps in and out at an eye-rolling pace, the deep strokes he's hitting are something you never taught him but for some reason he knows how to do it well. your body slowly feels like it belongs less to you and more to him as he bullies his cockhead into that mushy spot. now that spot really fucks you up, and he learned that quick when you taught him. he listened to your every word and put all the theory into practice.
so that's why you start gushing and creaming around him. there's juices running down your thighs. sweat and heat searing across your bodies. hell, even armin's got your juices running down the front of his thighs as he fucks into you from behind.
"god you're making a fucking mess, have some shame. my fucking cock is getting painted white. 'gonna clean it up for me with that mouth of yours afterwards? yeah, you're damn right you are. uh-huh, i'll call you my bitch. can't believe you fucking like that, you're a fucking freak."
that last line is what makes you cum. oh, that was so funny to him; weren't you the one who used to call him a freak?
"look at that fucking back arch, wow..." he admires breathlessly, expression feral as he approaches his own high. "gonna cum inside, just how you want, 'sure you still want it?"
"yesyesyes! gimme your cum!" you cry, feeling slightly overstimulated with each stroke of his cock. it was so fucking thick, you felt so full that it's all you could focus on. so full. and he was gonna fill you up even more.
"oh my fuckin' god 'm gonna cum in this slutty fuckin' pussy, take it like a good slut — m-my slut, yeah? you're my slut? say it, please. yeah. say it again, 's gonna make me cu- fuck! ohhh god 'm gonna cum. take it, fuckfuckfuck 'cumming, 'cumming mmm!"
armin's never orgasmed that hard, or shot out that much cum. now if you weren't on the pill, you would have absolutely gotten pregnant from that session. he's a boy with breeder balls, that's one of the first things you told him and he remembered it.
he pulls out and relishes in the sight of his cum dripping out and running down your slit.
"that's so fucking beautiful." he smiles naughtily, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his forearm. "hey, up for round two?"
© arminsumi DO NOT STEAL WHAT I'VE WORKED HARD TO CREATE.
#♥️ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍 — アルミン#🔞#blessing the dash before bed#mdni#smut#armin smut#armin arlert smut#armin x reader smut#armin arlert x reader smut#armin x fem reader#armin x f reader#armin x reader#armin x y/n#armin x you#aot smut#snk smut#attack on titan smut#aot x reader#snk x reader#attack on titan x reader
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Zevlor needs hugs. Lots of them and also sneak in one hell of a BJ for him
Imagine being in a loving, committed relationship with Zevlor...sharing a bed together and snuggling each other gently awake on a lazy morning...then dipping below the covers to really wake him up properly with a sloppy BJ
He goes from a sleepy hmmm good morning, my love to groaning out your name and grabbing a fistful of your hair
#blowjobs and self esteem#god this is a good one anon#bg3 zevlor#cw: somno#sort of?#just in case#i just think he deserves it#spicy
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Stiles texting Scott
Stiles: I WANT TO GIVE HIM THINGS
Stiles: LIKE BLOWJOBS AND SELF ESTEEM!
Scott: Please stop talking.
#teen wolf#Sterek#or any stiles ship really#stiles stilinski#scott mccall#incorrect quotes#sterek#incorrect teen wolf quotes#incorrect quotations#incorrect teen wolf
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WHO HAS FANTASIES ABOUT YOU ? (18+)
PILE 1 : This person is a male. You may have had an argument with this person, or someone you don't get along with. This is someone you stop talking to or stop paying attention to. This person hasn't been nice to you. This person is manipulative and materialistic. And he's someone who enjoys manipulating people and has a high ego. He has a lot of options. He's attractive, but he uses his charm to do bad things. This person is someone you shouldn't trust. This person is a toxic person. A walking red flag. At the same time, this person may have someone in their life right now.
FANTASIES : First of all, this is someone who masturbates to you. He wants to see you naked and imagines what your body looks like. This person wants to have crazy sex with you. This person has fantasies that are not normal. This person wants to dominate you. He wants you to give him a blowjob and he wants you to worship his wand. He wants you to praise him in bed and beg him to keep you. This person doesn't look serious. He just wants to have sex and go.
Sam Tinnesz - Play with fire
SAYGRACE - You don't own me
These songs could be significant.
PILE 2 : If you've never been in a relationship in the past, this isn't your pile. You've been in a relationship with this person and you've broken up. This person is someone who hasn't forgotten you. This person feels very stuck. Something didn't go the way he/she wanted. This person is jealous of you and thinks that you belong to Him/Her and definitely sees you as his/her soulmate. But they think they've lost you. This person is very upset and wishes you would step up to him/her. This person is not mentally healty. Depressed and sad. This person is trying to get better.
FANTASIES : This person wants to reunite with you and wants to marry you. He/She doesn't want you to move on. If there is someone in your life right now, he/she wants you to let go of that person and choose him/her. He/She wants you to depend on him/Her. This person wants passionate sex with you. "Breeding" significant. This person wants to start a family. He/She wants to have sex with you in the shower.
Significant Messages : "I wish I was there", "I love you baby.", Horse, 55, Red.
Significant Songs :
Chase Atlantic -Consume
Britney Spears - Get Back
PILE 3 : This person is someone you don't notice, or this person thinks you don't notice them. This person likes you, but is afraid to step up to you. This person has self-esteem issues. He /She sees you way above his/ her league. You can be this person's dream woman / man. This person does not want to take a step because he considers himself inadequate. He / She thinks you're perfect. This person may have blonde or colored hair (especially orange). This person may be wearing a lot of black and brown clothes. This person may be overweight. Or He/ She doesn't like him / her body.
FANTASIES : If you're with someone right now, that person is dreaming of you breaking up with that person. This person wants to be lovers with you. This person wants to know everything about you. He / She wants to spend time alone with you. This person wants to see every aspect of you. This person may be obsessed with you. They desire you. "Lust" can be significant. He / She wants you to dominate him / her. At the same time, this person wants you to be obsessed with him / her too. This person may get erection when he / she sees or thinks about you. if you are a woman, this person wants to eat your pu$$y. If you are a man, this person wants to suck your wand so bad 🔥 🔥🔥🔥
Significant Messages : " I want your a$$", 1313, idolized, "Kiss me", emergency, femininity, desire, bind, 1331.
Significant Songs :
Partynextdoor - Dreamin'
Sickick - Infected
Eric Bellinger - Drive by
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As someone who’s desperately into subby boys I love your stuff. If you find the time would you write something for Rafayel? I love that fishie. 😩
mirror fucking | sub rafayel
includes: dom!reader | gn!reader | strap-on used | blowjob (receiving) | pegging (giving) | handjob (barely mentioned) (giving)
sorry this is so long and it takes a little while to get going!! i’m trying to work on a more to the point writing style but i can’t help waffling TT
i don’t know too much about rafayel atm so i hope i wrote him decently for you | and thank u so much <33! i love writing subby boys so i’m here to deliver to you all
it was common for rafayel to suddenly disappear like this. these long periods of silence usually meant that he was busy working on his next piece but he’d always send you the occasional message when he was thinking about you or felt lonely. with you in his life, it was hard to continue as he used to. he’s so needy.
this time however, his messages were less frequent and when he did message, he seemed uninterested. either he was incredibly focused or his painting wasn’t going well. worrying a little, you decide to drop in on him by surprise to give yourself piece of mind but also because you missed him dearly.
———
walking into his painting room, you admire all the works of art surrounding you but only one was worth looking at. sat at the top of his ladder, rafayel stared at a blank canvas silently muttering to himself. the setting sun’s rays streamed through the windows and made him appear otherworldly. you let out a content sigh full of love. “hey, what are you doing here?” rafayel asks, finally noticing you.
“getting a strong sense of deja vu” you say with a laugh. blocking the canvas from his sight, he turns to you giving you his full attention. “if i fall, do you think you can catch me this time?” he teases. “of course princess.” you retort back. rafayel smiles but it doesn’t feel sincere. he looks distracted.
“come down my love.” you say, holding the ladder for him and extending your hand to him. rafayel sighs and nods slowly making his way down and taking your hand when he reaches you. seeing your expression, he already knows what you’ll ask him.
“i need a new piece for this exhibit i’ve been invited to but… i just can’t think. i’m going to tell them i can’t do it.” rafayel says, avoiding your gaze. bringing a hand to his cheek, you gently move his head to face yours and give him a chaste kiss. you feel his body relax with your touch and as you pull away, he chases your lips desperate for more. rubbing your thumb over his cheek, your heart melts seeing your boy like this. he leans into your hand and holds it there with his, silently begging for you to stay with him.
“the more you force yourself to make something, the less chance you have being successful.” you say but quickly continue before he can cut in with a remark “you’re going to burn yourself out even more and become frustrated. art block is a killer you just need to direct your attention elsewhere.” your other hand wraps around his waist and massages small circles into it.
“i… i really need to make something new. people will get bored.” rafayel quietly says moving his head into your neck and surrounding himself with your scent- comforting him. pressing a quick kiss to his neck, you start shuffling over to his floor length mirror with him still attached. such a baby but you loved how he felt so safe with you. “how about,” you whisper, tapping him to get his attention, “you do a portrait? or even a self portrait you haven’t done one of those in a while.” rafayel slowly lifts his head up, glances at himself in the mirror and goes back to his hiding place. all his motivation had gone and you could tell his self esteem was struggling as a result.
“oh my love.” you say, running a hand through his hair, “i love the cool tone colours you use and the dreamy/underwater look you make so effortlessly.” with your encouragement, he lifts his head again and watches your eyes in the mirror. “those are my favourites. just look at all the colours you could include especially…” you say as you pull him into another kiss “…when i do this.” and gesture at his flushed expression. “that’s my favourite colour.”
his heart couldn’t take it anymore. this was the perfect distraction. oh he’d forgotten just how much he’d missed you and your touch. all he wanted now was to feel you and for you to look at him. “please… oh darling touch me more please.” rafayel begs pressing his forehead against you. with a smile, you snake a hand down to softly squeeze his ass which made him gasp. “woah… getting handsy already.” he tries to say in his usual teasing tone but it comes out more breathless than he’d liked.
“how about, to help you get started, i show you some anatomy references you could use?” you say gesturing to the bag your brought. rafayel could only nod, wondering a little to what that could allude to but letting you go to fetch it. he was left standing breathing heavily and a ‘problem’ forming between his legs which his was quick to attempt to hide. you didn’t reveal what you had brought until you were stood next to him again. “on your knees.” you commanded, motioning with your eyes and taking what you had brought out from behind you. your strap on.
his eyes never left yours as he knelt down infront of you. rafayel patiently held out his hands to help you adjust your harness and kissed your legs all while doing so. “you know what to do now.” you say, playing with his hair with one hand before taking his chin. “of course.” he says with a smile but a little shaky. obediently, he kisses the tip before licking long strips up the sides. you loved watching him treat your strap like a real dick. “mm you’re so big” he said with a sly smile. then, inch by inch, he slowly worked his way up your strap so that his nose touched your abdomen. he tried so hard to please you even if you couldn’t strictly feel pleasure from this. he was adorable to watch as he tried every trick in the book to not gag but his teary eyes betrayed him. such a show off.
such a good boy.
“you look so beautiful right now, my love. look” you say and point at the mirror. flicking his eyes to his reflection, rafayel saw just how desperate he was for you. on his knees as if you were his god. he took this opportunity to show off and kissed down the shaft before taking you in completely and moving up and down moaning the entire way (which were half fake and half from his attempt of his trousers rubbing against him).
“can you fuck me now? please? it’s been so long.” he begs, rubbing his cheek against your strap. “on all fours sweet boy.” you say, bending over to kiss his forehead. rafayel tried not to appear excited and instead put on a little show of taking off his trousers and bending over for you. “hello pretty boy.” you say as he stretches like a cat to try and tease you. kneeling beside him, you trace your fingers down his body and hook onto his underwear before slowly pulling them down. he shivered at your motion. you reach a hand around for him to coat your fingers while the other flicks his dick causing him to gasp. “d-don’t tease.” he says half confident and half whiny. “sorry but you’re too cute. this won’t take long” you say as you begin to push your fingers into his hole.
rafayel tried to be patient but you’d worked him up too much and it’d been too long. “mmghh that’s enough… i-it’s good.” he moaned weakly grabbing your wrist, “haah- oh goddd please i need youu.”
“okay then if you say so.” you half warn. nothing would be able to change his mind now and to be honest, you wanted this badly too. you really wanted him to feel good. “but one condition baby,” you align yourself with his hole making his try to push his hips back, “you can’t stop looking at yourself.” and with that, you start to slowly push in holding onto his hips. as you did, you grabbed him by the chin with one hand and made him look at himself. “aww what i pretty boy i have hm? you look so beautiful taking my dick like a good boy.”
the praise feels electric but having to look at himself the whole time was embarrassing! he wanted to look at you more. “ohhhhh- mghh-! feels gooddd s’gooodd” rafayel babbles trying to not let his eyes flutter shut. as soon as you bottom out, you start thrusting and aiming for his sweet spot carefully watching him. you bend over his body and leave little kisses on his neck as well as making sure to suck on his ears. they flared red and his moans became whines. “hnng-! c-carefulll sensiti-ivee.” so cute.
“don’t forget to keep your eyes up darling. that’s my pretty boy.” you whisper in his ears which made it increasingly difficult for him to focus on anything you were saying to him. “ohhhh fffuck hnng-!”
“aww look at what a gorgeous boy i have i’m so lucky. not only that but he’s so talented isn’t he?”
his head was so foggy he couldn’t handle it all. he burned at all of your praise and couldn’t stop his noises as you targeted his prostate. “isn’t my handsome boy so talented rafayel?” you ask again. his name sounded so perfect coming out of your mouth. he wished you would keep talking to him your voice was intoxicating. “mmnnn-! yesh y-yesyes.” he whined as he struggled to keep himself upright.
“yes what, my love?” you tease, increasing your pace and biting his ear slightly. “tah-! talent ‘m talente-eddd mmmgghhh gooodd.” rafayel was barely looking at himself now and instead his head hung low as he focused all his strength in holding himself up. it didn’t matter he’d done so well and he was probably weak from shutting himself in for so long. “that’s my hardworking boy. i’m so proud of you, rafayel.” you kissed his cheek, a hand coming round to stroke his dick. the added stimulation was too much!
“clo-oseee c-cum cahnn i?” he slurred, his hips unintentionally started slowly trying to match your thrusts to get him closer. “of course, you’ve worked so hard and done so well. you deserve the world, darling.” you praise him and kiss down his spine. it didn’t take long after your sweet words that he came over the floor and almost lost his balance if you didn’t hold onto him.
rubbing his hips, you slowly pull out and discard your strap on the floor. shuffling around, you sit in front of rafayel and support his upper body against you. “did that help you great artist?” you ask after a little while, moving his hair out of his eyes.
“mmmnn i got quite fuzzy… can’t remember much i might need to look at my references again.” he says teasingly. “oh wait… these clothes… i don’t like the colour they won’t work. maybe you should take them off next time.”
despite his remarks, he nuzzled into your neck, whispered thank you and started whining all over again.
#not super confident with thisss#hope it’s okay!!#dom reader#sub character#dom!reader#sub!character#💜•rafayel#sub love and deepspace#love and deepspace#sub lads#rafayel love and deepspace#love and deepspace rafayel#rafayel x reader#rafayel x you#rafayel x mc#rafayel x y/n#rafayel smut#sub rafayel#sub love & deepspace#love & deepspace#l&ds#sub l&ds#rafayel l&ds#l&ds rafayel#rafayel love & deepspace#love & deepspace rafayel#💜•maris fics#💜•pegging#💜•fingering#💜•praise
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Full to the brim
Pairing: Daddy!Steve Rogers x Short! Tiny! Reader
18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI
WARNING - This story contains the following: explicit smut, unprotected sex, daddy kink, size kink, breeding kink, praise kink, fluff, first time (together), fluff, pet names from Steve (doll, baby doll, sweetheart, love), reader has self-esteem issues, but Steve comes to the rescue ;)
Narrator POV
Tonight, you and Steve try to have penetrative sex together for the first time after you have been begging him relentlessly to give it a shot. In the duration of your relationship, Steve has been very hesitant about having sex with you due to the fact that he is massive compared to you, who on top of that was smaller than average women. He doesn’t want to hurt you, so you have done the alternatives.
You have tried oral sex and you two were already so pleased sticking to that, even though you still struggled to give Steve a blowjob, but Steve enjoyed and got off to your attempts of swallowing his huge dick.
Now, you were on the edge of the bed with Steve being in a sitting position and having you on his lap. You were in a reversed position - meaning you weren’t facing each other but he was behind you as his hands held your hips. It had taken several positions and attempts, but now you were finally past taking his tip and having him almost fully inside.
“F-fuck, daddy!” You cried out. Your body was trembling from how much Steve had stretched you. You could practically feel him in your stomach.
“Language,” Steve reminded firmly. “Can’t have you saying bad words while daddy is taking you, otherwise I’ll have to wash your mouth with soap.”
“I-I’m sorry, daddy, I didn’t mean to! You just feel so full inside of me. You’re so big!” You whined.
Steve chuckled lowly. “I know, baby doll. Your cunt makes a tight fit but that’s okay. It’s not your fault that you’re such a tiny baby.” Steve cooed. He looked down where the two of you connected. His cock was stretching your pulsing core to the point where it looked like you were about to split in two, but Steve had full control. He rubbed your throbbing clit, making you jolt and shake uncontrollably against his chest. He snakes his other hand to your belly, and he swore he could feel himself through your tummy. Fuck.
“You okay, love? If it’s too much, I can always pull out..” “NO! No, please daddy. I’m adjusting, it’s not hurting so much anymore..” you speak assuringly.
When more wetness starts gathering around his shaft, he holds you by the waist and pulls you slowly up and down onto his cock, almost as if you were a fleshlight. Your hand hooks onto his arms that were holding your waist, and you let out stuttering moans. “Ah!- Mmm, daddy! Oh daddy!” You cried out when his cock makes its way to the deepest parts of your body.
“You sure you’re alright? Should I stop?” Steve asks, his ruts becoming more hesitant. You quickly protest once again, “No, no daddy! It only hurts a little bit but it’s starting to feel so good! Please don’t stop!“
“Mmm, you’re a big girl, you know that? Taking daddy’s big fat cock into your tiny hole…so brave, you’re so brave for daddy.” He praises. It makes you all the more wetter when he praises you, and he knew that. His movements became smooth as it was now easier to have him gliding in and out with his cock. Your juices combined with his large amount of precum made the perfect lube.
“Oh, doll, you feel wonderful. You’re so perfect for me sweetheart. So perfect.” He said with a raspy voice. You shook your head. “No, I’m not, daddy…,” you let out a few breaths of air before continuing. “You had to work and wait so long until I was able to take half of you in…I’m so sorry daddy, I wish it was easier for you….ah-!” You yelped when Steve pinched your nipples and rutted his hips upwards against yours.
“Did I fuck you dumb or are you just being a dumb little doll questioning daddy’s judgement?” He asked with a stricter voice. ��When I say you’re perfect, you’re perfect.” He started to suck bruising marks onto the skin of your neck. He had always said it was his way of claiming you. “Do you know how fucking hard I get from the mere thought of stretching your little pussy? Do you know how much I wanted to bust my load when I only got the tip in? Do you know how much I want to stuff you full of cum till your little tummy bloats? You make me loose the little self control I have when I’m around you, doll, so you better not be talking badly about yourself.”
You nodded frantically, feeling your climax closing in. “Y-Yes daddy, - ngh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to question you, - ah!”
“Atta girl, - apology accepted. Daddy’s getting close but I’m not gonna cum unless you do first, okay love?” After you hummed in response, Steve started to quicken his pace and you couldn’t help but reach your hand across his neck to pull him closer to you.
“C’mere love, I wanna kiss you.” He demanded softly. You turned to look at him before he pulled you to a long, sensual and loving kiss. His hand landed on your clit again, making it all the more difficult to last any longer. You broke the kiss as it was harder to contain your heavy breaths and moans. “O-Oh~ Daddy I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!”
“Go ahead doll, cum all over my cock like a good girl.” After a few seconds, you did so, cumming hard and twitching from the aftershocks of your orgasm. It was all too much, but it felt so good.
“Daddy, please cum inside me…I want to be full of your cum. Please, daddy give it to me!”
He grunted as his thrusts became frantic. “I’m gonna give it to you good, baby doll. Wanna stuff you full of me till you get pregnant and round with my baby…would you like that, love? Wanna start a family with me?” He asked, his voice dripping like honey.
You quickly nodded. “Mhm! Yes daddy, I wanna m-make you a real daddy, Steve! I l-love you so much!” You said and turned to him. Steve smiled with soft eyes. He has always wanted to have a family with you, and hearing you wanting to give him one now that you were able to take him made his heart flutter with delight.
“Alright, sweetheart. daddy’s gonna pump his sperm inside of you, - gonna make you a mommy.” He held tightly around your waist and chased his own high. His teeth gritted and he closed his eyes, taking in the delicious sensation of your wet channel. His mouth was hanging open, making it impossible to hold back the moans he was holding earlier. This was nothing like he has ever felt before, and even though he wanted to last longer, he knew he was bound to fail.
“Ah, shit! M’gonna-!” He threw his head up as he let loads shoot up inside you. He didn’t let you go, wanting to savor this moment as his cock was pulsing and emptying his balls full of seed. You let out a whimper of feeling his hot cum coating your walls. It felt like it was going on forever before he let out a heavy sigh and looked at you.
“How do you feel, love?” He asked. You tried to regulate your breathing before responding. “Amazing, daddy..I loved it so much.” you said. His nose nuzzled yours, enjoying the peace the sex gave you. Both of your muscles loosened up after an intense session, and now you were both tangled in each other’s bodies in bed, his cock still inside you.
“I love you, doll. You did wonderful keeping up with me. You’re a flawless woman, Y/N. Always remember that, okay?” He whispered.
You smiled and nodded, almost shedding a tear from his kind words. You cupped his face and gave him a long, heartwarming kiss. “Love you too, Steve. Thank you for being so good to me.”
Hearts & Reblogs are very appreciated!
#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers#daddy steve rogers#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers x f!reader#steve rogers x female reader#chris evans fanfiction
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ᰔᩚEthan Landry Headcanons (lover edition!)ᰔᩚ
⤷❝☆General!Ethan:
would have a playlist on his phone with songs that reminds him of you
gives you flowers on every date, it can be an expensive bouquet, or a single rose, or something he just picked up but he makes sure to do it just to see your face light up in joy
makes sure to have your favourite chocolate in his pocket
buys you snacks when you have a rough day
carries your bag around the campus while walking you to classes
can be a bit dorky at time (he's always dorky, it's adorable)
has an arm around your waist every time you guys are near or standing together, he doesn't even realize it, he just does it
if you're sitting down then it's hand holding, he squeezes it randomly at times as if to assure himself that you're actually his and it's not a fucking fever dream
random dates: playing uno, watching movies, coffee shops, doing assignments together, buying clothes together...
occasional fancy dates in an expensive venue where he would never let you pay no matter what
a cuddler, loves to have you in his arms
⤷❝☆Ghostface! Ethan:
kills anyone who demeans you, annoys you, or flirts with you
you're his, you're not going anywhere, you're fucking stuck with him
when he confesses the fact that he's Ghostface, he's ready to kill you because you're his and if you can't be his, you can't be anyone's
he may have not (he did) cry when you said you didn't care and you kinda knew
shows you his knives and talks about his kills
you rarely see him so excited so you let him talk about his kills and nod along even when you zone out of the gore stuff
you give him a hit list of the people you hate on his birthday as a gift
now on every and any kind of anniversary he kills one of those people on the list for you
his ego gets high after each kill, so you have to bring him down by reminding him that cocky bitches get caught and he's not allowed to get caught, he's gotta stay with you forever
⤷❝☆NSFW! Ethan:
clumsy at first, sloppy, needy and so desperate, it's not even endearing it was pathetic
once he gets used to the intimacy tho.. it's over for you because your pleasure is his pleasure. every clench of your cunt, every whimper, each moans, everything about you being a mess under him gives his self esteem a boost
a switch! leaning towards dom after a kill but is otherwise so subby
loves to mark you up, after confessing about gf, he brings in the knife kink, doing small marks all over your skin
would be into period sex because that's one way to explore his blood kink without cutting you deeply or anything
loves a good blowjob, especially after a kill when the rush is still in his veins, face fucks you while holding your head in place with a tight grip on your hair, making you gag onto his cock until you're crying and swallowing his cum
loves overstimulation and edging
cries and begs to come whenever you're edging him by riding his cock, stopping whenever he's near the edge
would absolutely rail you if he's mad about something, expect scratches and bruises all over your skin and forget about walking for the day
gets pussy drunk very easily, by fucking you, tasting your juices, doesn't take him a second, he's so addicted
is definitely into somnophilia because after a kill he always comes to you and you're usually asleep but how could he ever resist you especially when you look so pretty sleeping
creampies, he ain't wearing a condom, thank you very much, he has a breeding kink so he absolutely loves to stuff you as much as he can
masterlist!
#oneshot#scenario#character x reader#x reader#x you#x reader smut#fem reader#smut#x female reader#x you smut#headcanons#ethan landry scream#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry oneshot#ethan landry smut#ethan landry imagine#ethan landry x you#ethan landry headcanons#ethan landry#ghostface x you#ghostface x reader#ghostface smut#ghostface#ghostface x y/n#scream movie#scream smut#scream 6#jack champion#reader insert#established relationship
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Numbers Game ~ Part 24
Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader x Shanks
Numbers Game Masterlist
Word Count: 4295
Ao3 Link
Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link
Summary: The party has started, but you are adrift. Can you keep pretending with proof of your lovers' betrayal standing before you?
Author's Note: ⚫ !! IMPORTANT TW !! ⚫ We have had quite a bit of blood and pain in this story so far, but this chapter contains the use of a knife during sex. I have bracketed that section off with these symbols ~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~ and you won't miss the story if you skip it! There's aftercare and more smut after that section, so PLEASE DO NOT READ if self harm, knives, or blood may be triggering for you. EXTRA NOTE: This series is about villains, and was always meant to have blood and violence. I won't be able to section off everything, but I know how triggering a scene like this one can be. Please skip it, and know that you are not alone!! 💜
Alternate POV Symbols:
🌲 ~ Flashbacks from Reader's Past | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content listed in Author's Notes
!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic contains spoilers for the end of the Wano arc
Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Dissociation, Grief, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Guilt, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Size Difference, Daddy Kink, Masturbation, Blowjobs, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Pain Kink, Knifeplay, Blood Kink, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |
~~~~~~
“I don’t believe you were on the guest list, Mr. Sylvad.”
Mihawk’s cold, dangerous voice didn’t make sense. Lies. Pretend.
They sold me.
“My apologies,” Uncle Cedrick charmed. Your body turned to ice while he held your hand limply, as if he’d forgotten you were there. “Ambassador Siggins was called away for a last minute family emergency, and he was gracious enough to offer me his ticket. I’ve been looking forward to visiting with my dear niece, and meeting her esteemed employers. Perhaps we can share a nightcap after the party? I’d love to–”
“Get your fucking hands off of her.”
Some wicked part of you felt a thrill at the sight of Uncle Cedrick’s eyes going wide with fear. Your body and mind hadn’t decided on what to feel, or trust, or give a fuck about anymore, but you instinctively put yourself between your uncle, and the seemingly furious ex-warlord whose hook was inching closer to him.
“Don’t make a scene. They’ll all turn on you, and you’ll never make another berry for the rest of your lives.”
You felt the violent stillness from both of the domineering forms at your sides, but neither moved.
“Always so shrewd, niece,” Uncle winked, his breath shifting back to his confident ease. “Besides, you know I never travel without insurance. If I’m not back safe on my ship to make a certain call at a certain time, then my location will be leaked to sooo many friends. You know my friends, don’t you, smarty?”
“I know,” you breathed, voice low while you fought to swallow every horrible feeling flooding your body.
“Of course you do,” he gloated, pulling his hand away before touching your face when he glanced at the men beside you. “You were always so smart. See you inside, dear.”
“Rabbit–”
“Sweetheart–”
“Don’t cause a scene.”
~~~~~~
~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~
“Was it really necessary to cause a scene? The other tavern had much better wine.”
“I didn’t cause the scene,” Shanks smirked, leaning in close while he teased. “I just beat up the asshole that did. No one messes with my friends… Besides, if you drink enough of the cheap shit, it gets the job done.”
Shanks laughed when Mihawk rolled his eyes in a very different way than he planned on making him later. He walked his fingers across the bar, but the swordsman pulled his hand away before they touched.
“Well, Red Hair,” he challenged, a tiny smirk making Shanks’ breath catch, “how many bottles will you be bringing up to the room? How many will get the job done?”
“How many can you carry,” Shanks rasped, eyes glued to that pretty mouth.
~~~
Shanks was grinning.
Mihawk was trying not to.
How many years? How many times had they ended up like this?
And how many more times would he fucking beg for it?
“Please, daddy,” Mihawk whined, “need…”
“Tell me,” Shanks chuckled, digging his nails into Mihawk’s skin while he gripped his face. “What does my slutty, little boy need, huh? You gonna be a greedy whore? Gonna beg me to do so many, filthy things to you?”
“Please–”
“Knew it, you selfish brat,” Shanks scolded, shoving the side of Mihawk’s face against the wall. “What are you gonna give Daddy in return?”
“Everything, please,” Mihawk begged. He tore off his clothes while Shanks kept his face pinned, these moments with the red haired pirate being the only times he didn’t give a fuck about where his clothes landed. “Take everything, daddy, take–”
“Such a desperate whore for me,” Shanks hummed, an evil grin on his face as he released the other man from his grip. “Tell me what you want, and I might be nice. If I think you deserve it.”
Mihawk’s eyes rolled back, the wicked promise in Shanks’ voice giving him so much pleasure and comfort, he didn’t know what to do with it. He fell to his knees, pleading.
~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~
“Make me bleed,” he begged, pulling a knife from his pile of pretty clothes. “Please, daddy. Take my blood, let me–”
“My little freak,” Shanks huffed a laugh, following his friend to his knees. “How would you live without me?”
“I– fuck!”
“My pretty boy,” Shanks purred, dropping the bloody knife so he could smear all that red across Mihawk’s perfect chest. “This what you needed?”
“Y-yes, p-please,” Mihawk shook, back arching while he twitched, his eyes rolling white.
“Need your daddy to hurt you?”
Mihawk was shivering, whimpering, moaning when Shanks showed off those red fingers.
“Poor thing. Let me give my little freak what he needs.”
There was nothing like this.
“Such a perfect body, and you want me to rip it to shreds?”
“Gods, yes. Pleeease.”
Shanks would never have thought to do this with a lover, but Mihawk was hypnotizing. How could he not give him what he craved when he begged and whined for it like this? When the “Marine Hunter” would debase himself, would do anything Shanks asked him to, just to feel this?
“Tell you what, selfish brat,” Shanks taunted, just starting to ghost the tip of the blade along Mihawk’s skin. “Lay down, let me watch my little pain slut jack himself off, and I’ll keep ruining this pretty chest of yours until you come.”
Shanks gave a pleased laugh, deep and dark, while Mihawk fell to the floor, his back arching as he let out a pathetic, needy moan.
“Not gonna last long, are you,” he challenged. “Prove how much you want it, whore. Don’t stop touching yourself, or you won’t get any pain at all.”
“Yes, daddy,” the swordsman breathed, getting to work.
Beautiful.
Shanks paused for just a moment, stunned again by his powerful rival turned friend. Stunned by how wickedly perfect he was. Stunned by how much he wanted him. He’d almost forget just how much every time they drifted apart again.
“Da—“
“Don’t be impatient,” Shanks purred as he teased the blade down Mihawk’s side. He hummed at the twitching, near panicked body he had so much control over. “Tell me what you are.”
“I’m your pathetic slut, daddy’s whore, your— fuuck, Shaaanks.”
Mihawk could barely see with his eyes fluttering and rolling, but he caught that look on his friend's face.
Shanks was fucking glorious, the power he exuded like sweet poison. The swordsman would never let another touch his skin with a blade, would never admit this weakness to another soul. Yet, Shanks… He was perfect. Beautiful. Strong.
And he controlled him so well.
The teasing scrape of the blade turned to unreal pleasure as it pressed into his skin. Mihawk didn’t know why he was like this. Didn’t know when it started, but he didn’t fucking care.
That sharp sting of the knife slicing down, and the heat of the blood he could feel tickling along his skin, had him coming in his hand within the same breath. He bucked and moaned as ropes and ropes of come covered his stomach, his chest, the column of his throat.
~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~
“You did so well,” Shanks rasped, leaning down to taste the weak whimpers and whines still lingering on those lips. “How’s my pretty boy doing?”
“I…” he tried, breathless, with the hint of tears shining in his golden eyes. “Thank you, daddy.”
“You know I’ve always got you,” Shanks promised. He breathed those words along Mihawk’s skin, trailing soft touches, and teasing nails across that magnificent, painted body to bring out more delicious sounds and shakes. “Just relax, baby. Breathe for me.”
Mihawk couldn’t understand. Couldn’t believe the pleasure that Shanks gave him. That he let Shanks give him. There was no one else he could trust. No one else he respected. No one he wanted…
“Shanks…”
The red haired pirate chuckled at Mihawk’s reaching fingers, kissing the man’s temple to soothe that tension.
“Don’t rush, bright eyes. Just feel good for me. We'll get you cleaned up in a bit, then you can show daddy how grateful you are.”
Mihawk could never admit that the weak sound that left his throat was a sob, but he stopped caring when Shanks kept touching him, kissing him, dragging nails down his skin, just enough to make him moan.
He’d never felt safer.
~~~
“Look at you.”
Clean and bandaged, with his black hair still damp from the shower, the swordsman’s breath caught at Shanks’ hushed words, at the way he watched him crawl across the small bed.
Those brown eyes were too soft. Mihawk shivered under that gaze before he found what he was looking for.
“Just like that, baby. So good for me.”
The praise made him dizzy, dizzier than the swollen cock he’d licked and teased before swallowing deep, his watery eyes still locked on the soft, brown ones above him.
“I love it when you do that,” Shanks hummed when Mihawk massaged his balls, still taking that veiny shaft down his throat, so fucking deep. “Such a good boy for daddy. I’m close, keep those lovely eyes on me.”
Mihawk moaned around his cock, and Shanks couldn’t handle the look on his friend's face. He fisted that damp, black hair, and took control, just like his swordsman needed. Fingers gripping tight, demanding, taking and taking as he shoved that pretty face up and down his cock like a beautiful toy.
“Fuck yeah. You love being daddy’s little whore, love taking everything I fucking give you, huh?”
The pleasure of the new pain sent the swordsman to blissful twitching, not caring if he choked, wanting it, wanting to be used.
“Fucking take it. Take daddy’s come, show me how much— fuckin’ hells. You feel so fucking good. Swallow it all like a good boy.”
Those soft eyes and those desperate eyes stayed connected, fighting against the instinct to thrash, to writhe, to look away. They stayed connected until Mihawk’s throat took every last drop of Shanks’ pleasure, the giving and taking between them like another spar, a dance between too-friendly rivals.
“Come here,” Shanks purred, his lovely smile making the swordsman feel the urge to frown. Instead, he moved to sit against the headboard with his friend, hoping the barkeep was still downstairs so he could book another room to sleep in.
The safety Mihawk had felt was dwindling fast, being replaced by the need to leave, to pretend he hadn’t let himself be so weak.
But he supposed a few more minutes of resting by his red haired rival wouldn’t hurt.
~~~
Shanks felt light, almost high, when Mihawk crawled up the bed to lean against him. He was staying. Staying still for once. The red haired pirate let his fingers travel along that perfect skin covered in new and old scars, taking in Mihawk’s intoxicating scent. Taking in every feeling he tried not to carry when they were apart.
“Hey, Hawk?”
“Mm, what is it,” the swordsman drawled, fighting with the exhaustion that was trying to convince him to stay.
The red haired pirate didn’t want to explain, didn’t want to risk losing his courage, so he pulled away just enough to look into those golden eyes.
“I love you.”
Mihawk thought he must have fallen asleep, but it was too real. The scent of their bodies. The sting of the wound on his chest. Those gorgeous, soft eyes.
“Please,” Mihawk laughed. The cruelty in his own voice felt like a storm he couldn’t stop, only watch as it tore through the world. “Love is boring.”
“What?”
Shanks tried to keep that lightness. To pretend he wasn’t hearing this, wasn’t watching those cold eyes go deadly.
“Don’t be boring, Shanks,” Mihawk sighed as he pulled back. The safety he’d felt was a lie, ripped away. He couldn’t think, couldn’t take in whatever that look was on his rival’s face. He just needed to leave.
To be alone. Safe.
“Hawk,” Shanks breathed, staring at the swordsman while he pulled on those fancy clothes. He brought his shaky hand to the sheets, focusing on controlling his breath, his heart, so that his friend wouldn’t hear just how fucking deep he’d wounded him. He didn’t want to feel this, just wanted to shove it down.
“See you next time, Red Hair.”
Shanks couldn’t shove it down. The door closed, and every good feeling he’d ever had seemed to rush out of the room with it. Every good feeling he’d just had in this shitty room turned tortuous as he tried not to suffocate in it. Every word, every touch, every look in those golden eyes.
“Fuck…”
The red haired pirate managed not to yell, not to destroy. He managed not to leave this inn to find another at the risk of running into his friend. He managed to finish all of those opened bottles on the floor while he tried not to choke on the painful heat in his throat.
Shanks managed to drink enough to blame his tears on the liquor, and to lie to himself that he was fine. That he would get over it.
He’s heartless. A pirate without a fucking crew. Dracule Mihawk isn’t capable of love. I should have known he couldn’t love me.
He can’t love anyone.
Those thoughts weren’t as comforting as he wanted them to be.
Mihawk’s thoughts were not as clear as he needed them to be. Not as calm, not as empty, not as safe.
The way he’d fled that room, and avoided that hurt gaze, made him fight to keep steady.
What was he thinking? Ridiculous. Idiotic. How could we even—
Not even worth entertaining. Boring.
Mihawk ran from the feelings within him just as he'd run out of that room, out of that tavern. He ran and shut the door, pretending that it meant nothing.
He stuffed every thought of it away. Every thought of those soft, brown eyes away until he forgot what it was he was truly running from.
Something that couldn’t be real, and could never be safe.
Mihawk could never risk feeling safe.
He could never risk the idiocy, or the blindness, of something as boring as love.
~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~
~~~~~~
“Welcome, welcome, fine guests, to the Cross Guild’s very first gala affair,” Buggy’s voice boomed, bright and shining on that small stage while he addressed the gathered crowd. “Before our main event, we’ll enjoy a delightful dinner accompanied by the flashiest show you’ve ever seen.”
Buggy winked for the crowd, yet even though you knew it was really for you, you couldn’t feel a thing. Just the ice trailing down your spine.
“For now, please help yourselves to the hors d'oeuvres, enjoy an aperitif, and dance, before we all make too much berry on wicked things.”
Your clown was a bit more reserved than his usual shows, with a mesmerizing lightness to his movements, his body floating just slightly within his clothes. Yet he’d dialed up his dark charm, the tantalizing danger that so many of these bored, high society leeches were hungry for. Just enough to titillate, not enough to scare them away. Buggy had listened to your notes, adjusting his act just enough to still be his, yet still appeal to this privileged group. The excited buzzing of the vultures around you told you that he’d hit his mark.
Galdino nodded at you as you scanned the crowd, his eyes flicking back to watching the select group of pirates they’d deemed appropriate guests to not frighten away the potential backers.
Part of your mind was in work mode, going over every detail, deciding which asshole to shmooze first.
The rest of you was gone. Shaking. You could feel his stare.
Uncle was smirking at you over his drink. He wasn’t paying attention to the leeches at his side that were trying to bask in his glow as if the Sylvad wealth could rub off on people.
They sold me.
“Dance with me, little rabbit.”
Mihawk bowed his head a bit, those dangerous fingers reaching for yours. There were only a handful of couples on the floor, and your employers weren’t supposed to touch you.
He sold me. He’s throwing me away just to line his pockets. Never real, just pretend.
Uncle Cedrick’s charming laugh carried over the music, finally giving the other guests some attention. You could still feel his eyes.
“I’m a terrible dancer.”
“You don’t need to dance,” he smirked, taking your hand in his before leading you toward that gleaming floor. “I’ll do all the work. Just let your body listen to mine. I know you can do that, rabbit.”
Mihawk didn’t give the tease his usual force. It didn’t knock you off your feet, but it was enough to make you sigh, relaxing your shoulders just a bit.
“Breathe with me, love,” the swordsman soothed, and you couldn’t stop yourself from melting as his hypnotic voice washed over you. “No one else exists. Nothing else exists. Just our bodies, our breath, and the music. Will you believe that with me? Will you dance with me, darling?”
“Okay,” you whispered, your body shaking for him now.
Just a little more pretending.
~~~~~~
~~~🐊🔴🐊🔴~~~
Shanks was haunting the corner bar, downing his third aperitif, and trying to ignore the stares he kept getting.
Oh, yeah. I’m Red Haired Shanks.
He chuckled to himself before returning his focus to her, watching Hawk treat her like she was precious, watching him care for her, dance with her. Yet her eyes were still empty.
Y/N. It’s my fault she’s… I thought I was such a good man. So fucking egotistical—
“Red Hair,” came a gruff voice, accompanied by the thud of a golden hook onto the pretty bar top.
“Sir Crocodile,” Shanks replied, still watching her. He finally glanced over after a too-long pause, surprised to find the larger man looking almost pained. “What’s going on?”
Crocodile didn't want to do this. Didn't want to say this.
He wanted to gut this man, then suck the life out of him until all that was left was his stupid, red hair.
I don’t want to be a monster to her. Not to them.
“Will you protect them,” he choked out, forcing the painful words past his lips. It felt like admitting defeat, and his body raged against it. “Will you take care of them?”
Shanks forgot to breathe from the shock of what he thought he’d just heard.
“What—“
“If they choose you, I won’t stop them. If you swear you’ll take care of them, all of them, then I won’t stand in your way.”
…
Crocodile almost lost it, almost reached for the man’s throat. Hesitation was fucking unacceptable.
Shanks felt like he’d plummeted to the bottom of the ocean, dark, heavy thoughts drowning him in a silent death.
This monster, this villain, cares enough to let them all go.
What does that say about me?
“I swear. I’ll protect them. I’ll care for them. I’ll—“
“Good,” Crocodile snarled, holding himself back like a wild beast. Like a monster. “Y/N’s uncle crashed the party, and she won’t let us kill him yet. I’m gonna put you at his table. See what you can find out about him.”
Shanks went to stand from his stool, all those words not fully registering. He stumbled just a bit, and Crocodile let out a vicious growl.
“For fuck’s sake, are you drunk already?”
“Not even close,” Shanks sighed, steadying himself. He couldn’t seem to find his balance in this upside-down world.
“Get your shit together. If you show me you can’t protect them, then I won’t care what they want, I wont care what I want, I’ll just fucking kill you.”
“What do you want?”
Shanks stared up into that frightening face, and couldn’t understand. Couldn’t believe.
“I want them all to be safe and happy. Don’t make me regret trusting you.”
Crocodile felt like his organs were boiling with the need to end this man. To end this man that was taking what’s his. He stared down into stupid, brown eyes, grinding his teeth against his rage.
“I want the same thing.”
“Then prove it,” Crocodile spat, leaving Shanks to sway.
Buggy…
I have to tell him.
The Emperor of the Sea floated through the crowd to sneak backstage again, hoping he could figure out the next right thing to do.
Hoping he could prove it.
~~~🐊🔴🐊🔴~~~
~~~~~~
“You look absolutely enchanting tonight, love.”
“There’s no need to brag about your work.”
The tease left your lips like a miracle, and Mihawk’s eyes filled with that lovely mix of annoyance and pride that you seemed so skilled at drawing out of him.
“My vicious rabbit is always stunning, even when I don’t get my hands on her,” he teased back, still perfectly guiding your body along the dance floor. “Though I certainly enjoy the honor.”
You barely heard the satisfied hum he let out when you shivered, yet his voice was still too much. His voice was a drug, just like his eyes, his scent, and his wicked, wicked fingers.
Mihawk was pleasure, seduction, desire. The pain he added to that intoxicating mix only made you crave him more. He made you feel so many things. Hard things. Soft things. Addictive things. Your eyes fluttered as you fought to stop thinking this way about the man that sold you.
Just for daydreams. Not real.
~~~~~~
~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~
Perfect.
She’s perfect.
Mihawk wanted to kill every single soul in the room, just so he could hear only her. Hear only her lovely heart, beating against his. He could hear it all, but he needed more, needed her.
He needed to keep that spark in Y/N’s eyes. His breath had caught at that glimpse of her, at her brave, little tease. That attitude he ached to punish and praise, and never go a day without hearing.
Everything. Mihawk wanted everything with her.
“Little rabbit?”
“Mhm?”
The world’s greatest swordsman was bested by this strange, lovely girl. The effort, the bravery it took to keep going was almost insurmountable.
“I’m not pretending.”
Y/N stiffened at those whispered words, and his hands had to control her, carry her even more, forcing her body to follow his dance.
“Please…”
“I know I don’t deserve you, but I’ll do anything, darling. Anything to watch you. To watch how your beautiful mind works, to see you be fierce, to hold you when you’re tired.”
Mihawk felt high. He’d finally forgotten the rest of the world existed. Nothing but Y/N in his arms.
Now that he’d started, he couldn’t seem to stop. When she rested her cheek against his chest for a moment, Mihawk almost fell to his knees. She breathed him in before showing him that tiny spark of her, still burning behind those beautiful eyes.
“You’re not tricking me,” Y/N questioned, her voice hesitant, wounded. It tore his insides to shreds to hear her in pain. To know that he’d been the cause. “You didn’t sell me?”
“Rabbit…”
Why didn’t I see what she was before? She believes I could… would I have?
Guilt almost stole his breath, his courage.
“I am so sorry, Y/N. There are no excuses for a villain like me,” he breathed, lost in her, needing her. “You have taken me over. The thought of losing you…”
“Mihawk?”
His name on her tongue. Lovelier than the rarest of wines. The only thing he wanted to hear.
“I don’t care what you decide, rabbit. I will follow you anywhere, if you would have me.”
The swordsman couldn’t read her. Since she’d fallen apart, Y/N had become impossible to understand, impossible to decipher, her body’s new language from some other world.
A lonely world that he needed to pull her back from.
He needed her back.
“I love you, Y/N,” Mihawk confessed. He noticed that his hands were shaking, almost losing his hold on her. A tiny moment of feeling selfish passed before he breathed her in again. “My little rabbit… I love you more than I can fathom, more and more with every moment. You have woken me up, darling.”
Mihawk tried to reach her, tried to read her, but knew that he couldn’t take from her anymore. All he could do was tell her the truth.
“Y/N, you have brought me to life.”
Her heart.
What does that rhythm mean?
“Mind if I cut in?”
~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~
~~~~~~
It was a miracle that your Uncle hadn’t been vaporized on the spot by the murderous glare Mihawk flung his way. His touch that had been so gentle a moment ago went rigid, your bodies gone still in the middle of that shining dancefloor.
“Come now, it’s just a dance,” Uncle Cedrick prodded, and you wondered if he understood how close to death he was.
Mihawk wanted to kill him. Truly.
He really didn’t sell me?
“It’s fine,” you soothed, pulling away from your lover that had violence radiating off of him in waves. “I’ll be fine. Please, don’t—“
“Alright, love,” he conceded, his eyes somehow even more intense as he studied your face. “I’ll listen to you.”
Mihawk placed your hand in your Uncle’s, his own hand tensing before letting you go.
“Much obliged,” Uncle Cedrick purred as your swordsman walked away, his head jerking subtly at the sound of those words.
“So, dear niece,” he smirked, pulling you into position. “Were they actually able to teach you how to dance? Or do you still require a firm, guiding hand?”
You’d fought so hard against it, knowing it would only break you down. Knowing that all it could do was destroy you.
Yet catching Mihawk’s gaze while he studied your uncle like fresh, new prey did something. You knew you should stomp it out, but the rage in those golden eyes had lit a spark. Just an ember, glowing weakly, but it was there.
Hope.
~~~~~~
Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!
a/n: !!!!! I am eating, sleeping, and breathing this party 😅 I rarely do more than a vibe outline for a fic, usually just a brain dump, but I wanted this party to come together smoothly. Y'all, the OUTLINE for this party is 23 PAGES 🙃🙃🙃 Lol, get comfy (and, oh gobs, please tell me what you think so far, I've been going bonkers 🙏🏼🙏🏼)
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Part 25
Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.
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#cross guild smut#mihawk smut#sir crocodile smut#buggy smut#one piece smut#cross guild x reader#mihawk x reader#sir crocodile x reader#buggy x reader#crocodile x reader#cross guild polycule#shuggy smut#shanks smut#shanks x reader#one piece x reader#one piece fanfic#dracule mihawk x reader#crochawk smut#crocodile x mihawk#fem!reader#reader insert#x reader#use of y/n#smut#turtletaub fics#numbers game#cw dark content#tw knives#cw blood#cw mental illness
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