#Even if they did have a child through being slutty who cares? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

peachycoreroo · 3 years

Text

the forbidden fruit | zeke yeager

summary: zeke was like a second father to you and you were his favorite little girl. maybe, it wasn't normal to like your dad's best friend that much, but who cares if it's normal when it feels this good.

pairing: dad’s best friend!zeke x college fem!reader

genre: smut, pwp

word count: 5.4k

warnings: age gap, vaginal penetration, lowkey pseudo-cest bc you call zeke 'uncle', daddy kink, oral fem!receiving, fingering, oral m!receiving, mini degradation, praise kink, a few spanks, choking, zeke spits in your mouth, usage of ‘slut’, ‘whore’ and ‘slutty’, bunny as a pet name, kinda exhibitionism?, manipulation, corruption kink, dub-con vibes but you actually want it, jealousy, mentions of alcohol, smoking, dumbification, manhandling, unprotected sex (pls wrap it up kids), creampie, size kink

authors note: this is for @weepinglevi‘s adult movie tropes collab, thank you sm for letting me join!! def check out the other amazing fics in this collab<3 this is a lot darker than my other stuff so far, but i had so much fun writing it, so enjoy my first piece for aot!! here’s a link to my masterlist

uncle zeke, or uncle zuzu as you liked to call him when you were still a child, has always been your favorite person since you were little. technically, you weren’t blood-related, but you might as well have been with how integrated into your family he was.

him and your father were best friends since middle school and you did call him ‘daddy’ a lot back then as a three-year-old, when you couldn’t grasp the concept of him not also being your dad. he was there for your birth, your childhood, your embarrassing teens and now even for your 20th birthday.

you don’t exactly know when the thing happened though.

one day, you were all a big, happy family and the next you suddenly realized, how attractive zeke yeager really was. maybe, it was the way you noticed that he was so much more athletic and broader than your father as they walked around your pool in their swimming trunks on a hot summer day. maybe, it was the way you suddenly became aware of how tall he really was, when you tried to reach a cup on a shelf too high, only to feel his presence directly behind you with his chest against your back as he reached his arm above your head and grabbed the cup, only to hand it to you with a teasing ‘you should really try this thing called growing. i heard it does wonders against high shelfs.’ or maybe, it was the way you finally registered how his gray eyes shamelessly checked you out as you walked around in your flimsy crop tops and shorts, barely covering anything.

it was so wrong, but that didn’t mean you would stop your little teasing. your dresses got shorter and shorter, dropping your keys on purpose on the way out just to flash him your lacy panties. hugging him longer than usual as he was leaving, just to press your breasts up against his hard chest. you wanted him to know you weren’t a little girl anymore. you wanted his mind to be filled with lewd thoughts about you. only you.

even when you left for college, you couldn’t stop thinking about the blond man, especially when you were in your bed late at night, with your hand stuffed in your panties and your mouth whimpering his name into the pillow. images of him, with his hard cock in a large palm, pleasuring himself with you on his mind, groaning your name, always brought you to an orgasm, but it wasn’t enough. you knew the only way to quench your need for this man was by having him, no matter how rotten your desire was.

at last, it was finally your birthday, and you couldn’t wait to get home and act upon your ploy to seduce zeke yeager. it was a foolproof plan really. nobody would even suspect you were trying to rile your favorite uncle up, and he would only react, if he wanted you just as much. what better gift for your birthday, than ultimately having the forbidden fruit you’ve been trying to deny yourself of for so long.

“happy birthday, angel!”, your family exclaimed excitedly as you came downstairs. you quickly scanned the room to see uncle zeke already sitting in his usual spot on an armchair in the corner of the living room, getting up and joining your parents at the bottom of the stairs when he noticed your presence.

knowing that he was there, you finally smiled happily, thanking them softly before being pulled into a tight embrace by zeke. “yeah, happy birthday, angel”, he lowly murmured into your ear as he pressed you firmly against him, goosebumps erupting at his slightly suggestive tone.

“thank you, uncle zuzu”, you whispered back, squeezing him tight, hoping to get the message across that you were more than happy to be in his arms.

alas, you were forced to part as your mother shoved him to the side to embrace you, your dad jokingly complaining about you going for a hug with your favorite first instead of your parents, in the background.

“well, i can’t help that i’m so much cooler to her than you”, zeke retorted playfully, earning him a light-hearted punch to the arm from your father.

the rest of the day felt like an eternity. it’s not that you didn’t enjoy spending time with your parents, especially if zeke was there, but the prospect of getting the blond male to act upon your, hopefully, mutual desires, had you looking at the clock more times than you would like to admit.

“are you waiting for something?”

you quickly snapped out of your daydreams of what could happen later, as the man with the main role in them sat down closely beside you, your thighs brushing against each other. you couldn’t help your gaze lingering where your skin touched before blinking up at him through your lashes, only to see him grinning down at you, clearly amused by your stare. time for the first part of the mission.

“oh yeah, i’ll be going clubbing with a few friends later.”

“clubbing?”, zeke pressed with a frown, “and your parents are letting you?”

zeke has always been very overprotective of you. your dad joked that it’s because you’re basically like his daughter, but you hoped it was more than that. that’s why you were counting on his overprotectiveness to eventually lead you to the desired outcome of the day aka you, stuffed full of his cum.

“mmm, yeah. it’s my 20th birthday uncle zeke, not my 10th, you know. i’m an adult”, you retorted provocatively before getting up. “’m gonna go get ready.”

you could swear you felt his irritated glare burn into your back as you made your way upstairs, grinning at the first bit of your plan succeeding.

the second step, was your appearance. just a week before that, you went shopping for the shortest dress you could find, ready to turn heads, or specifically, one head. shower, hair, makeup, baby pink lace underwear, see-through tights, black dress. you haven’t felt this hot and confident in a while with college forcing you to wear hoodies and sweatpants all day every day. no way in hell were you going to make yourself suffer through endless lectures in cute skirts and dresses.

five minutes before your friends came, one of your essential male friends included, you decided to head downstairs to make sure zeke had enough time to admire how hot you looked.

as you came downstairs, you could hear your dad exclaiming ‘look at my beautiful girl, all grown up’, making zeke turn around. goosebumps erupted as you felt his eyes slowly trail along your figure, your skin tingling where his gaze burned into your exposed skin.

you did a full spin, showing off your outfit to the three people in your living room, but only caring about the opinion of one. to your disappointment, you didn’t quite get the reaction you wanted, with zeke turning back around to your mother, continuing to talk about whatever.

no matter how much you hated it, you couldn’t stop the jealousy crawling up your tightening throat, making you sick with disgust. you knew your mother was just as much as a friend to the man of your desires as your father, but it didn’t stop you from feeling this way. you wanted his eyes on you and not some other woman, even if that woman was your own mother.

as if on cue, the doorbell rang out, your mood immediately lifting at the chance that the third step of your plan finally elicits a much-craved reaction from zeke.

you opened the door, your best friends immediately throwing themselves at you, screaming their congratulations and complimenting your attire. just like you hoped, the boy you’ve been friends with and flirted with since high school, jean kirstein, was the last one to congratulate you. he hugged you tight, leaning down, whispering a low ‘happy birthday, pretty girl. you look good enough to eat’, at the same time as your parents and zeke came into the foyer.

the hug you shared with jean lasted just a tad too long for it to count as appropriate, with you giggling excessively at his comment just to be sure that zeke heard it. and as you parted to say goodbye to your family, your flirty friend kept his strong arm around your waist, as though it belonged there.

you don’t miss the way zeke glared at jean’s arm around you or the way he had the slightest frown on his face as he told you to ‘have fun and be careful’, but when you turned around and left the house to get into jean’s car, disappointment filled you when you realized that the blond male didn’t do anything to keep you from going. all this planning and finger crossing for nothing. ‘happy fucking birthday to me’, you bitterly thought, as you drove off into the night, mood already completely ruined.

after hours of trying to enjoy the end of your birthday even for a bit, you finally had enough. jean took you home, trying to make out with you on the backseat of his car in the parking lot, but as tempting as the idea of letting him fuck zeke yeager out of your mind sounded, you couldn’t bring yourself to. the fact that today was supposed to be the day you got your dad’s best friend right where you wanted him, was enough to make you crave a nice shower and your warm bed. you couldn’t wait for this day to end.

when jean pulled up to your house, you parted ways with a quick kiss and a cheeky promise of tomorrow, before making your way into the house. it was already 3 a.m., so you were sure everybody was already asleep, as you quietly made your way inside.

“there you are. welcome back, pretty girl.”

at hearing zeke’s raspy voice out of nowhere, you flinched and let out an unvoluntary squeak. what was he doing here?

you brought your hand to your heart, feeling it hammer against your chest, your eyes snapping to the spot your dad’s best friend was sitting in, in the kitchen. “uncle zeke! you scared me, what are you still doing here?”

as you made your way into the kitchen, you finally noticed the empty tequila bottle on the table and your unconscious father, snoring on the coach in the living room, just a few feet away.

“mmm, wanted to make sure you come home safely after your dad passed out, so i waited for you”, he casually retorted while his grey eyes inspected you from head to toe. smeared lipstick, a light sheen of sweat on your skin and your dress hiked up dangerously high on your thighs.

feeling small under his calculating gaze, you once again looked at your sleeping dad and gestured towards the bottle. “guess you also had a wild party going on?”

“mh, your dad’s just a lightweight.”

the air inside the kitchen was heavy and suffocating. you knew something was wrong with the way zeke wouldn’t stop staring at you and only answered with short sentences, his usual playful chattiness nowhere to be seen.

trying to get rid of the awkwardness and your nervousness, you asked: “where- uh, where’s mom?”

“asleep”, was the short answer you got, making you even more uneasy than before. “oh, w-well. i’m gonna go and also hit the hay. thanks for staying up for me uncle zeke, good night.”

“stop.”

this one word made you halt in your tracks just as you were about to turn around, making you look questioningly back at him. what you didn’t expect however, was to see zeke yeager spread his thighs and pet one of them with a simple ‘sit down, angel.” somehow, the pet name sounded condescending as it left his lips, but that didn’t stop your pussy from clenching at the sight of him with his legs wide open, looking positively inviting like never before.

your gaze quickly flickered towards the unconscious figure in the armchair, but even that couldn’t stop you when uncle zeke was offering you to sit on his lap, like you dreamed of for so long.

your legs slowly took you towards the spot he was sitting in, only for him to pull you on one of his thighs as soon as you were in his reach. his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, while the other found its place on your thigh, your heartrate skyrocketing at the close proximity.

not really knowing what to do with your hands and where to look, you once again brought your gaze to your dad in the living room, having the perfect view of him from your position on zeke’s lap, your fingers interlocked in your own lap as to not touch him too much.

“how was the party?”, he questioned seemingly nonchalant, but his tone had a certain edge to it, that made you feel as if you were being scolded.

you chuckled nervously, keeping your eyes locked on your unconscious father, as you started uttering: “oh, uh… it was- “

only to have zeke’s palm grab your cheeks, squeezing them together in a pout, as he turned your head towards him, forcing you to focus your gaze on him.

“did you fuck him?”

zeke was watching your expression closely when he practically growled the question, taking note of how your eyes widened, your breath deepened, and your thighs automatically pressed together as the meaning of his imposing words settled in.

the jealousy could practically be grabbed as it rolled off the blond male in waves and you knew, that if you wanted your birthday wish to come true, you had to play the part of the innocent and unsuspecting little girl.

“wha-? no!”, you exclaimed supposedly offended and distraught that he would even ask such a thing, as best as you could with your lips pressed together in a pout by his large palm.

the man’s dark grey – were they always this dark? – eyes narrowed as you seamlessly pretended to not know what he was hinting at, but the way you immodestly battered your eyelashes at him, one hand finding it’s way onto the palm that was squeezing your plush thigh, showed him at you weren’t as oblivious as you feigned to be.

“no, huh?”, he chuckled darkly, his hand leaving your face to push you down onto your knees between his legs instead, “then you’re not against helping your dear uncle with a certain issue, or are you baby?”

stammering out a little confused ‘what?’, you quickly checked whether your dad was still asleep, only for yeager’s palm to return to its place on your cheeks, squeezing them once again as he yanked your head back towards him. “don’t act like a brainless, useless slut, angel. it really doesn’t suit you. you’re my smart little girl, aren’t you?”

the sickly-sweet tone he used worked like a charm on your praise-starved brain. you wanted to please him and be his good girl, no matter what it took.

looking up at him with big, wide eyes, a drop of drool fell from your pouty lips onto his jean-clad crotch when he tightened his hold on your cheeks as you nodded like an obedient little toy, making him smile proudly.

“that’s my girl. now,”, he declared, unbothered by the tiny wetness seeping into his pants, his veiny hands made quick work of his belt and zipper, “show me how much you want to help your uncle zeke.”

just the sight of him whipping out his hard cock out of the confinements of his jeans and boxers, was enough to make a small pool of wetness gush out of your cunt, not that it mattered anyway. your lacy panties were already long soaked just from sitting on his lap.

zeke’s cock was longer and definitely thicker than you could’ve ever imagined, bigger than any you’ve ever taken with a prominent vein running on the underside, the tip flushed in a pretty pink. the saliva collecting in your mouth at the prospect of having him down your throat soon made you swallow hard, while you waited for his next instructions, not wanting to disappoint him by acting impulsively.

seeing his best friends’ daughter so submissive and eager-to-please on her knees between his legs as said best friend laid, passed out, just a few feet away, made zeke’s cock twitch. he knew it was sick and wrong, but he has always been a weak man when it came to you.

“go ahead, sweetheart. make uncle zeke feel good.”

at his permission to go, you nearly lunched forward, your pretty lips coated in sticky lipgloss instantly wrapping around the sensitive tip of his dick, making him groan deeply somewhere in the back of his throat.

you alternated between swirling your tongue around his cockhead and slowly sucking, as zeke put a cigarette between his lips, lightning it. normally, you hated the foul smell of nicotine and complained numerous times about how much you hated smokers but… the sight of it dangling between his thick fingers, as his other hand lost itself inside your hair, guiding your head to bob up and down on his length, awakened something deep in you, that you didn’t even know existed.

it didn’t help that while every other person reeking of smoke repulsed you, the same scent clinging to zeke brought you a sense of comfort. the fact that he also looked hot as fuck doing it, certainly didn’t hurt.

above you, the tall man made sure to let his eyes wander to your father from time to time, mostly keeping them locked on your lewd expression and your full lips wrapped around his cock though. he knew that the man a few feet away was a heavy sleeper, especially when drunk, so he wasn’t afraid of letting you know just how pleased he was with you.

“that’s a good girl. doing so good for me, want me to cum down your throat, sweetheart?”

you mumbled a small ‘please’ around his cock, causing him to groan huskily as your vocal cords vibrated against his sensitive tip. knowing he was almost there, you hallowed your cheeks and tightened your throat, wanting him to lose himself in the inviting warmth of your mouth.

as soon as zeke felt himself teetering at the edge, he couldn’t stop himself from quickly putting out the cig in his hand and holding your head still with his large palms as he started frantically thrusting up in your mouth. having zeke use you to chase his own high made you clench around nothing as you gagged around his length, doing your best to try and keep your jaw slack just so you could hear the man praising you again.

at the feeling of you choking on his cock, zeke’s head fell back as he moaned hoarsely, the sound going straight to the fire in the pit of your stomach already forming just from sucking him off and hearing his erotic grunts.

on the next thrust inside your warm, wet mouth, zeke emptied himself in the back of your throat with a low growl of ‘good fucking girl’, making you whine around his dick. the blond pulled you off as you started coughing, instructing you to ‘swallow, angel.’ being the whipped, little toy you did as you were told, looking up at him as you licked the remaining cum of your spit covered lips.

zeke smirked at your sensual display, whilst he stood up, pulling you up to your feet, only to push you against the dinner table and impatiently smash his lips against yours.

you had half the mind to think about how he didn’t even seem to care that his sticky cum still lingered in your mouth as he kissed you before your brain completely shut down because you were making out with zeke yeager.

strong palms wandered up your thighs under your short dress, cupping your ass while the flimsy fabric rode up as a consequence of his wandering hands. the display of strength as he easily lifted you up on the hard surface behind you, made your head spin. everything this man was doing had you weak in the knees and if you weren’t already seated, you were convinced your legs would’ve given out underneath you.

as yeager made room for himself between your thighs, spreading them in the process, your arms found their place around his broad shoulders, pulling him down even closer towards you as you tasted the whiskey and smoke on his slightly chapped lips. you could hear his soft chuckle at the displeased whimper you let out when he removed himself from you, before tracing his thumb faintly over your clothed clit. just that slightest contact with your puffy bundle of nerves had your hips twitching up, your face heating up at the obvious display of his effect on you.

“aww, is my slutty little baby desperate for her favorite uncle?”, he asked in mock empathy, ripping your tights like it was nothing, before his eyes soaked up the sight of your baby pink lace panties completely ruined by your slick.

“i see you were ready for something to happen today. were you hoping the little boy from earlier would fuck you?”, he almost snarled the question, before adding: “or were you hoping for me, bunny? are these pretty panties just for me?”

as your core gushed out more of your juices at the pet name, you obediently shook your head at his accusation of you dressing up for jean, mewling out: “y-you, daddy. only you.”

zeke closed his eyes to compose himself when his cock twitched alive once again at the sweet melody of you calling him daddy. he knew this was the point of no return. he could’ve stopped this before, he was sure of that, but not anymore. not when you oh so sweetly called out for your daddy to take care of you.

in one swift motion, your panties were gone and thrown into a dark corner of the kitchen, the only light illuminating the space coming from the turned-on lamp in the foyer from when you came home. forcing you to recline back as zeke lifted your legs up on his muscular shoulders, you shuddered as his hot breath hit your drenched pussy.

after just one kitten lick to your core, you heard zeke’s pleased hum, mumbling something along the lines of ‘just as sweet as you, bunny’, but you couldn’t tell for sure because the very next second he was diving tongue first into you, sucking, licking, and slurping like it’s his last meal. the moan that left you at his intense ministrations was downright pornographic and you could only clench around nothing as his large palm came up to silence you.

“as much as i’d love to listen to your cries, sweet thing, gonna wake your parents up if you keep at it”, he muttered against your sensitive clit, the vibrations only making you mewl against his hand.

your hands tried to find purchase somewhere, the hard surface of the table, your plush thighs, before your nails finally got a grasp of his blond locks, using the leverage as an advantage to push his face even further into your slick cunt.

the obscene, wet sounds that echoed in the room were making your face heat up, but the embarrassment didn’t stop you from grinding desperately against his tongue, his thick beard rubbing painfully but oh so deliciously against the delicate skin of your inner thighs.

when you felt two of his thick fingers probe at your entrance before pushing in, instantly hitting that one spot inside you, you threw your head back as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, thighs trembling against his head as you reached your peak around his digits. your back arched off the wooden table, thighs snugly pressing against the sides of his head, almost suffocating him in the process, while you moaned a long, high-pitched ‘daddy’ against his palm.

zeke yeager could proudly say that he’s had his fair share of women, but the sight of you, succumbing to the pleasure he was providing you with, was by far the most erotic he had the privilege of witnessing. the mix of your cross-eyed expression, your sloppy cunt clenching impossibly around his thick fingers and your body twitching from the aftershocks of your orgasm, only fueled his desire to see you go dumb on his fat cock.

a hard slap against the fat of your right thigh caused you to squeal, your legs sliding down from his shoulders, completely limp from all the spent energy. zeke leaned down, once again capturing your lips in a heated make out. his warm tongue still had the distinct taste of your release on it as it slipped between your lips, his full beard soaked in your juices scratching against your cheeks and chin, but you certainly didn’t mind as long as you could have him between your legs, mouths interlocked.

“wanna see your cute lil’ ass while i wreck you, bunny. can you turn around for daddy?”, he questioned, voice raspy, but he didn’t actually wait for an answer, grabbing your hips in a bruising grip and flipping you over on your stomach, ass pressed up against his crotch already. not being able to control yourself at another clear display that his muscles weren’t just for show, your hips automatically grinded back against his painfully hard cock.

another strong blow was delivered, this time to your bouncy behind, your small mewl echoing in the large space. “slutty, desperate whores aren’t appreciated here, bunny. thought you were daddy’s good, little girl? guess daddy was wrong about you”, zeke sighed in faux disappointment, knowing you would do anything for him to keep praising you.

“n-no! am your good, little girl! ‘m sorry, daddy, please don’t leave”, you practically sobbed out, to drunk on his touch to realize the manipulative undertone in his phrasing.

smirking victoriously, the blond tenderly smoothed his huge palm, with his fingers covered in your already dried up essences, over your ass check, his fat tip nudging against your soaked entrance, whilst he shh-ed you, promising that he’s ‘not gonna leave you bunny, ‘m all yours.’

at the promise of him belonging to you, your eyes rolled into the back of your head, just as yeager decided to push his aching dick into your tight pussy. at the first bump against your gummy walls, you both knew no one would ever be able to compare. it was a tight fit as he continued to push past the resistance of your cunt, hissing at the continuous contractions around his sensitive cock. no way in hell, he thought to himself as he already had to hold himself back from cumming as if he were some virgin all over again.

when he finally bottomed out, his patience was close to non-existent, so without waiting for you to adjust, he started thrusting in you like a mad man. your hands flew out to grab the other edge of the wooden surface to have some kind of support, as his powerful thrusts made the whole table shake and drag across the tiled floor.

“’s too much, daddy! slow down!”, you wailed, knowing full well that this was exactly what you waited for all this time. the dark chuckle that left his panting and grunting mouth told you that he was also very aware of the fact that you didn’t actually want him to slow down, so the only reaction you got, besides his acknowledging chuckle, were his thrusts picking up in speed.

after another strong hit to your jiggling ass and a groan that sounded suspiciously like ‘such a perfect ass’, zeke leaned over you, completely covering you with his large frame. his hand found its way to your front, giving your tits a quick squeeze through your dress, before continuing its journey up, finally settling around your neck.

as it constricted around your neck, thick fingers expertly pressing against the pressure points, restricting the air flow oh so deliciously, your spit-covered lips fell open in a silent ‘o’, the act lurching you impossibly closer to your orgasm. at this point, the only coherent words you were able to formulate were ‘yes’, ‘daddy’ and ‘please’, causing the tall man’s chest to fill with pride at your dumbed out state.

“my cute, submissive, little bunny. have i fucked you stupid with my cock?”, he teased, only to get his confirmation by the lack of response on your side, too far gone to process that he asked a question.

the rhythmic clenching of your warm core reminded him that his dick was practically begging him to let it stuff you full of his sticky cum, so as his grip on your throat and hip tightened even more, he let his carnal desires take over as he rutted impossibly faster inside you.

every thrust caused his fat tip to poke harshly against your cervix, the feeling of pain only fueling your pleasure, as you silently took all your favorite uncle was giving you. somewhere in the back of your mind the thought of your father sleeping just in the next room flew around, but it quickly got fucked back out by zeke’s fat cock.

at the next rough plunge inside your warm walls and the low growl of ‘cum on daddy’s fucking cock, bunny’ directly beside your ear, you came undone with a loud moan of his name. you were pretty sure the force of your orgasm made you blackout for a second, because the next time you came to your senses, zeke was shooting his load inside your inviting cunt directly at your cervix, your name leaving his lips like a prayer.

you were exhausted. your whole body shook and twitched, your stomach hurt from being pressed against the edge of the dinner table for so long, sweat dripping down on the surface from your face and neck.

suddenly the room was way too quiet, safe for the heavy breathing and your occasional whimpers. slowly, zeke pulled out, only to spread your cheeks apart to take a good luck at your abused pussy pushing out his white cum. it slowly trickled down your legs, mixing with your leaked juices on the tiles beneath your feet.

not having the energy to move, you let the blond male pull down your dress back over your ass, listening to the rustle of fabric and belt clicking as he got dressed again. just as he gently helped you stand-up again, you could hear a yawn coming from the doorway that led to the living room.

“what’re you both doing?”, your half-awake father asked as he made his way through the kitchen past you to get to the foyer. your nails dug into zeke’s muscular forearms as the panic of getting caught formed in the pit of your stomach, only to hear the older man murmur a casual, seemingly sleepy ‘she just got home, gonna go sleep now’, as though he wasn’t blowing out your back just a few minutes prior.

with an unsuspecting ‘’aight, night you two’, your dad disappeared in the shared bedroom with your sleeping mother.

“fuck”, you breathed out, stressed at almost being caught and your legs buckling, only for zeke’s strong arms to hold you up right.

“hey, look at me, angel”, the male softly demanded, gaze tender as your eyes met his. “i’ll bring you to bed and clean up here, okay? don’t worry about a thing.”

a sleepy, but happy smile stretched itself across your lips at him caring for you so deeply.

“open your mouth, sweetheart.”

without second-guessing the request, you obediently opened your mouth, only to feel his saliva hit your outstretched tongue. the taste made you mewl needily as you realized what it all meant. you were his and he was yours.

zeke chuckled, amused by your blissed out expression, before pecking your lips, picking you up and caring you to your room with you mumbling a satisfied ‘best birthday ever’ against his neck.

2K notes · View notes

luventi · 3 years

Text

NSFW GENSHIN HEADCANONS — HOW THEY REACT TO YOUR NIPPLE PIERCINGS

with. kaeya, zhongli, diluc, childe, albedo, xiao, kazuha, thoma

cw. afab reader, some degradation, also some praising, both rough doms/gentlish subs (thoma), nipple play, modern au

note. i accidentally deleted this lmaoooo + reblogs appreciated!

kaeya: loves to tease you about them. he’ll say things like “my bunny is such a little whore getting her nipples pierced.” of course he doesn’t mean them but he loves to see you get riled up about it. and if you get really annoyed with him he’ll make it up to you by playing with your tits and calling you sweet names. “‘mm just joking sweetness they’re so cute.”

zhongli: at first he doesn’t really mind or notice them too much, it’s your body and you can do whatever you want to it, that being said he’s not too overly attracted to them either. but that’s before he notices how sensitive your nipples are now. everytime he slightly brushes past you, you hold back a moan. this drives zhongli to flick your nipples so much that you two can’t even walk past each other without ending up fuckin on the couch or whatever available surface.

diluc: has forgotten how to function. before he met you he’s always been a relatively vanilla and romantic partner. he likes what he likes and that’s it. but after you got them pierced diluc doesn’t know how to feel. every time he sees your tits bouncing with your new silver piercings he feels the need to comment about how perfect they look. and how he longs to hold them in between his hands as he fucks you dumb.

childe: an absolutely vile man. childe is obsessed with your nipple piercings, and you don’t know if it’s a good or bad thing. same as kaeya he teases you for getting them and gets off whenever you grab ahold of your own boobs and tell him that they’re cute and he’a lying. he’ll even go as far as pinching your nipples until you cry out for him to stop. but there’s times when he can be sweet; like when he sits you in front of the mirror and plays with your tits while telling you to look up at how gorgeous you look getting fondled like this, such a perfect angel.

albedo: he’s very fascinated with them. like how they peak through the thin shirts you wear and how you’ve been walking with a little more pep in you step. albedo knows what you’re doing, you want him to notice you, to give you and your new piercings some well deserved attention. so he does. he’ll sit you on his lap when you’re watching documentaries and gently tease them over your shirt. he’ll even give them open mouth kisses before he leaves for the lab every morning. if it’s attention you’ll want you’ll get it.

xiao: you two had one conversation about them and that’s it, you continue your lives like normal. it upsets you that xiao is generally just not the type of guy to make a big deal out of this, he’ll still fuck you the same so who cares? but you do. so much you whine that he doesn’t care about you because if he did he would react to your piercings in a more enthusiastic manner. which in turn upsets him that you would even joke about something like that. so he roughly shoves his hands under your shirt making you moan at his cold fingertips. “if my slutty little darling wanted attention why couldn’t they just ask for it?”

kazuha: thinks they’re so cute. he just wants to press his face in your chest and pepper them with kisses and tell you how badly you turn him on. kazuha is usually the more dominant one but seeing how soft your tits look will instantly have him begging for you. no poetry can describe how good your warm nipples feel in his mouth when you let him inside your shirt.

thoma: pops a boner as soon as you tell him about them. it’s no doubt thoma gets turned on about the slightest of things but now you’ve went and got your nipples pierced?? how ever will he survive. thoma starts to get more needier for you, brushing his hard cock against your ass whenever he can. asking if his sweet lover knows how bad he wants to fuck them over this counter. you can tease him too, but thoma is shameless he’ll beg for you however you want.

1K notes · View notes

no-droids · 4 years

Text

Mercy, Sabotage, and Dead Space

(gif credit to @redwyyne-archive)

Part One of The Bet series

Pairing: Poe Dameron/Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.7K

Summary:

1. No sex.

2. No touching yourself.

3. No orgasms.

Warnings/Tags: DUBCON/NONCON elements, fuckboy Poe (OOC), Enemies to Lovers, degradation/humiliation, mentions of oral sex, SMUUUTTTTTTTT also I’m not sorry for what I did but you’re not allowed to read if you’re gonna get mad at me okay byeeee

***

This.

This shit, right here.

If the question was ever, “What’s the stupidest fucking thing you’ve ever let Poe Dameron somehow talk you into doing?” then the answer is this stupid shit, right the fuck here. This is like. You remember that one game, Mercy? The one where you’d dig your nails in and twist arms and just needlessly inflict pain on each other as children until one of you cried uncle because someone somewhere once decided to turn torture into a matter of pride?

You always thought those games were fucking ridiculous. Who can hold their breath the longest, who can handle a lit deathstick against their flesh the longest, who can take the hardest punch—who cares? It’s child’s play. It’s self-inflicted agony for the sake of bragging rights and even as a youngling, you refused to fall for it.

But then you met… fucking Dameron.

You know those people that… they don’t just rub you the wrong way, but literally every single aspect about their personality is sandpaper against wet skin and your whole entire being feels chafed raw just by existing in their general vicinity for an extended period of time?

You’re… you’re not usually a competitive—much less aggressive person. You never have been. It’s just not part of your nature. If you ever excel at anything in life, it isn’t because of some secret, deep-seated desire to win or be better than anyone else. You just… do you. You do whatever you do, and if it’s good, it’s good. And if it’s bad, it’s good. Because at the end of the day at least it’s still you, and you’re okay with that.

But this?

This shit? Right here?

“This is fucking dumb,” you say, because you know it’s what you both must be thinking so you may as well just get it out in the open. “This is the dumbest fucking thing, Dameron. What are we doing? Why are we doing this?”

The grumpy, orange-jumpsuited figure sitting behind you just sighs heavily and slumps even further down in his bucket seat, as if it isn’t the first time you’ve tried asking this incredibly valid question (it totally is), bringing a palm down to thunk the top of the guidance controls between his legs in a quiet irritation you’re almost certain has everything to do with the very topic you’re trying to bring up.

“Because,” comes that infuriating drawl. You can only see his face from this angle by looking at his reflection in the transparisteel barrier directly in front of you, but even just imagining the way his mouth moves while he rounds out the words makes your jaw clench. “The coordinates we picked up were scrambled and this rendezvous could be going down at any one of thirty-six locat—?”

“No,” you interrupt him with a scowl, “not why I’ve been floating in dead space in this Maker-forsaken ship with you for eight fucking hours a day since… fuck, what’s today? Thursday? Friday? Nope, can’t be Friday, Friday’s our off-day. Thursday, then. …Thursday?” You shake your head. “Ugh, see? Time doesn’t exist when I’m not allowed to cum, life is like one never-ending nightmare.”

“Oh.” He takes a second to think about it in silence, the calloused tips of his fingers scratching the side of his face while he considers. It wouldn’t usually be as loud as it is right now. Maybe it’s the haunting quiet of space surrounding the ancient powered down hunk of metal you’re both stuck in, inadvertently isolating and amplifying the sound—or maybe it’s because your copilot’s jaw is currently covered in a thick, dark beard that you swear barely took his testosterone-overloaded ass a fucking week or two to grow, if that. Regardless, the dark bristles crunch loudly under his short fingernails and it takes you about a grand total of five whole uninterrupted seconds of the scraping sound to realize you’re grinding your teeth along with it. “Well,” he finally says, “that was your stupid idea.”

“Hmmmmmmmno,” you contest firmly, wiggling your elbow back to poke at his shin with your index finger once, twice, thrice, until he finally slaps your hand away in quiet irritation. To the misfortune of you both—and likely the other hundred or so pilots concurrently taking rotating shifts in these tandem x-wings in a glorified mass stakeout, the cockpit of this ship is just way too fucking small. Your arm is squeezed uncomfortably against machinery and electronics to get to him from this angle and a light slap isn’t going to stop you now that you’re here. “You—” (poke) “—have a superiority complex and decided to turn it into a competition, not—” (poke) “—me.”

“Oh, I have a superiority complex, okay,” he scowls and nods in vehement, fake agreement, finally giving up and letting you poke at will, but the appeal is lost as soon as you realize he’s over it and your arm eases back into your lap. You watch his reflection look out of the viewport and scan the empty void of space for the twentieth time in the past five minutes, clearly just as desperate to get back to base as you are. “So what is it you call saying—wait, no no, not even saying, loudly declaring—‘Of course I can go longer without sex than “wham bam thank you ma’am” Dameron, you brainless fucks, it’s a simple fact!’”

“Alright—I don’t sound like that, fuck you very much,” you return, in reference to his shrieking, high-pitched impression of you surrounded by your fellow pilots in the rec room when you’ve had a bit too much to drink. “Also, you don’t have to finger-quote literally every single syllable of my fucking sentence, Dameron. First and last word, that’s all it takes. And if it’s so superiority complex-ey of me to state simple facts, then what is it you call saying ‘betcha two weeks worth of pay you can’t, pretty baby’?”

“Uh, easy credits?” He immediately asks, side-eyeing your reflection through the transparisteel. “ Easy credits. Just begging for it. Two weeks of your slutty, sexy, easy fucking credits just begging to be taken and used— ”

“You need to get laid,” you cut in to tell him bluntly, scrunching your nose in what you hope looks like disgust. As per protocol, the power to the x-wing was cut at the beginning of your shift—what feels like a fucking eternity ago—as a preventative maneuver in case the target falls out of hyperspace unexpectedly. Avoiding the scanners of a fleet that may never actually show means it’s cold and dimly lit in here—just starlight in front of either you, but you’re hoping he can gauge the severity of your revulsion with your back to him. “You just turned my money into a sex object. It was vile. I feel violated on its behalf.”

“Sounds like you’re the one who needs to get laid,” he tosses carelessly back at you, and you roll your eyes with as much sass as you can physically muster, so tired of all the dodging. You know this hasn’t been easy for him either, he just has too much pride to admit it. “Besides, you’ve gotta be past the withdrawal stage by now. Is it really all that bad?”

“The fuck you mean, ‘Is it really all that bad’?” You snap at him, shuffling around grumpily in your seat, hating the way the bulky weapons controls sit right between your thighs and prevent you from closing them. Withdrawal stage, ha. “Of course it’s all that bad. It’s horrible. It’s the fucking worst. And more importantly, how are you not having any trouble with this? Oh, wait—that’s right,” you answer yourself before he has a chance to. “Because you cheated.”

“I did not cheat,” Dameron’s reflection immediately challenges with an accusatory finger pointed at you. “I did not. When the fuck did I cheat? I swapped housing assignments with your shitty roommate and slept in the bunk below yours for a month and a half—all because you don’t believe in the honor system—just so you could tell me I fucking cheated?”

You scoff, feeling your annoyance spark even more. He’s always been able to get under your skin, but the neglect you’ve been forcing your body to endure is just throwing gasoline on an already roaring fire. “Okay, first of all? Rude. I am a fucking joy to have as a roomie, alright? I put up with your snoring, your 2:00 AM dinners, you blasting your radio while I’m trying to sleep, I barely complain about your body odor—”

“My snoring is adorable, I get snacky at night, only sad people with fucked up lives hate music, I smell amazing,” Dameron casually lists off on his fingers, the self-confidence so easy and unshakeable that you swear he’s almost preening at the compliments he just gave himself by the time he’s finished rebutting everything you can think to throw at him. And, while you’d never admit it, he does smell good. He smells… unbelievably fucking good. Always. Something dark and woodsy, you can never quite put your finger on. It pisses you off, so much that you’ve made a habit of pulling a face of disgust whenever the warm, rich scent noticeably reaches you, hoping it deflates his ego just a little bit. No such luck so far.

“Whatever. The point is I’m a good fucking neighbor, alright, I’m neighborly as fuck,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “And don’t make it sound like I’m putting a chastity lock on your balls every night, because you can fuck anyone you want. In fact, I strongly fucking encourage it—I just want to know about it when it happens.”

Dameron smirks and you groan, already knowing what’s coming. “You wanna hear it?”

Yep, there it is. “Second of all—”

“Feel the whole bunk rock with it?” He goes on, completely ignoring you. “Use the excuse that you’re trapped up top so you can just stay there the whole time and listen? You know you can do a lot more than just—”

“Second of all,” you project over him, “you’re seriously telling me you haven’t had any wet dreams then, hm? No snorgasms? Hmmm? No happy naps? No captain midnights? No mattress fracking? Hmmmmmm???”

His voice very quickly sounds… shocked. “How many fucking euphemisms—?”

“Wait wait, one more—” you quickly interrupt, too much momentum to stop now, “—sleepskeet.”

You watch in immense satisfaction as his expression seems to progress through all five stages of grief, before he exhales a long, unamused sigh and scratches his beard again. You want to pluck each strand of it out of his face one by one. “Anyways. Wet dreams are totally different and don’t count.”

“It’s not different!” You burst out, unable to help yourself, “it’s an orgasm, and rule number three is no orgas—”

“I know what the rules were, Gold-Ten,” he returns calmly, and it infuriates you, how he’s always able to make it seem like you’re the instigator who’s overreacting. And he knows exactly what he’s doing by calling you by your flight designation, and it pisses you off even more because calling him Black-Leader in any other situation besides active warfare just feels like an unnecessary reminder of his skills. Why he’s currently behind you manning the guidance controls and why you’re currently stuck in the front seat with the bulkier weapons systems. “The question is if you’re seriously that bad enough of a sport to automatically disqualify me because of something that happens to any human with a dick indiscriminately when we blueball ourselves.”

“But that’s the entire fucking point, Dameron!” You shrill, throwing your hands in the air in pure exasperation. “There it is! You need it more than I do, you just said it yourself! Not to mention I said I can go longer without sex than you can— sex , not orgasms, but as it turns out I win at both. Now can we please call this shit off so I can finally cum? This isn’t fun anymore.”

“Nope,” he says immediately, popping the P with a bit too much hard emphasis to be genuinely amused. He’s frustrated, too—his voice is too pleased, too fake to not be masking irritation underneath. “Sorry. But this was also your stupid idea, so.”

“You’re insufferable,” you grumble, anger flaring equal to his, just way more… verbal. And descriptive. “Wet dreams don’t count, fucking right. Tell that to the oceans of Kamino I got going on down there, huh? I move on this seat wrong and I’ll slide off it—”

A loud slam of a palm against the controls suddenly echoes throughout the small cockpit, causing you to jump slightly.

“Don’t,” Dameron snarls, “... say shit like that to me. Not right now. Not right now, fuck .”

You go quiet for a moment, not expecting that much of an outburst at something you considered to be a throwaway remark, but then… oh. Something occurs to you, something… sinister. Oh, well, now there’s an idea.

Everything inside you immediately surges up and burns at the thought—the mere whisper of a way out of all of this, quickly, without giving in and letting him hold your surrender over you for Maker knows how long. It’s so fucking simple, you don’t know why you didn’t think of it before. You don’t have to wait him out at all; instead, you just need to… entice him into giving in first.

Neither of you say anything for a while, and you don’t know what he’s thinking (nothing, probably—a dry tumbleweed bouncing across an empty desert landscape, you imagine) but you take the dip in conversation to consider a plan. You can’t go at it too outright, it’ll be too big of a turnaround and he’ll see it coming lightyears away. A halfhearted joke about your pussy tossed out without thinking is what catalyzed the most substantial reaction from him you’ve seen, so… maybe you can keep steering the conversation towards the idea.

“How many wet dreams have you had?” You suddenly ask, your heart beginning to pick up in your chest as soon as the words are out of your mouth.

“Excuse me?” Dameron grunts from behind you, and you catch his reflection raising a thick eyebrow at you.

You take a deep breath and disguise it by stretching your back out just a little bit, lifting your shoulder blades and arching the sore muscles there, before settling back down in your normal crappy posture once more. “Now many times did you cum in your sleep? Had to at least been once for you to claim they don’t count.”

“Why does it matter?” He asks, completely sidestepping the question for the second time. “It was involuntary.”

You shrug. “Just so I know how many freebies I can get tonight.”

“No,” Dameron instantly counters, his voice dead serious. “Not fucking allowed.”

“Why not?” You ask, and this time, there’s significantly less challenge than you’d typically deliver it with. Instead, your voice is soft, questioning. Not argumentative, but curious, and there’s just enough of your point left unsaid that it’ll seem like he conjured the rest of the image himself.

There’s silence while he considers his response to the perfectly executed bait. You assume you’re both picturing the same thing, because it’s what you’ve pictured almost every single night spent in this celibate hellscape. The cool darkness of your shared quarters, the standard-issue sheets that still feel crispy and rough on your skin no matter how many nights you’ve slept in them, with one of your hands pressed tight over your mouth and two of your fingers circle your clit.

“You only get to do it if I’m in the room,” he poses instead, and you swallow thickly, feeling your body tighten with an unintentional drop of pure heat through your tummy at the thought. Maker, it must be really bad if Poe fucking Dameron is getting to you like this. The bane of your existence shouldn’t make your insides twist in on themselves—at least, not in a good way.

“Not like I’d have much choice,” you eventually respond, keeping it purposefully ambiguous. “It’s your room, too. Unfortunately.”

Stars, it’s been so long since you’ve done this, since you’ve walked the fine line between flirtation and seduction, wanting to turn on the charm slowly—gradually ease it up like a hyperdrive lever under your fingertips so that you’re at maximum by the time he realizes you’re even there. You take a moment to glance at his reflection, watching Dameron look back at you curiously, a flash of interest in his eyes.

“By the way, how does that one girl feel about us doing this?” You ask out of nowhere, suddenly remembering the existence of his pretty little number. You’ve seen her under his arm around base at least a few times, which is more than you can say for the rest of them. “Red-Six. Tall brunette with the tattoos—I don’t bother learning names, they all come and go.”

“Nihla,” Dameron nods with a wistful sigh, tilting his head to rest against his shoulder. “Or, wait… Neah. No—it was… Nalal. Yeah, Nalal, I think that’s right…”

“Unbelievable,” you mutter. “One of the greatest mysteries of the universe is how many people get in line for you, I’ll never fucking understand it.”

“They just want me for my cock,” he tells you without missing a single beat, sounding like he’s not joking in the slightest. “It was starting to get obnoxious. Glad I finally have an excuse to turn them down.”

“Unbelievable,” you repeat, stunned by how truly, mind-blowingly full of himself he is. “You’re… fucking…”

You end up just staring at him and making a sound somewhere between a laugh and a scoff, at a complete loss for words, and Dameron eventually shrugs and continues on after you fail to form a coherent thought in the allotted time frame he provides.

“Now I can just tell them I’m in a long-running bet with Gold-Ten over who can sexually deprive themselves the longest and weirdly enough, they don’t seem all that interested anymore,” he remarks, tilting his chin up and rubbing at his beard again, and for some reason… the sound of it bothers you somewhat less now, the way he phrased that resonating deeper inside you than it should. Lower than it should. You blink a few times, almost shocked by your body’s unprecedented response to his admission—Poe Dameron uses you as an excuse to turn down sex with pretty girls? Happily?—and your mind goes blank for a second while he watches you through the transparisteel. “It’s alright,” he eventually goes on, tilting his head. “Sometimes a sabbatical is good. I do really miss pussy, though.”

“Well,” you finally tell him, oddly not having much else to offer at the moment. “I’m sorry? And… you’re welcome. I guess.”

Dameron shrugs once more and makes an apathetic sound without opening his mouth, and you drop your stare down to the machinery between your spread thighs after feeling like you were looking at each other for too long. The position started uncomfortable and seven hours later, it’s still fucking uncomfortable. At first the discomfort twinged at your hips and lower back, but now the sensation seems to be… centering itself a bit more, finding a spot right between your legs, especially when his words echo through your subconscious and make you naturally want to push your thighs together. I do really miss pussy, though.

You try to snap out of it a bit, try to stop hyperfixating on the way your underwear has felt sticky and wet for fucking hours now, but it’s so fucking difficult to chill yourself out when your body already went into this whole situation with a month and a half long stumbling block. He’s not really doing anything at all—he’s leant back in his chair and staring out the window into the black emptiness of space when you steal a look once more, but something about how his casual responses are affecting you makes it seem like he’s the one currently seducing you.

Maker, you have to focus. You have to control yourself. You’re starting to feel a little warm in your thick jumpsuit—a particular shade of orange that does not compliment your complexion but you normally rejoice in wearing regardless. It’s baggy and uniform and hides most of your curves and most importantly, it keeps you toasty on missions like this. Space is cold —especially this far out in the Cauper Void, and there’s no fucking reason this powered down hunk of floating metal should feel as muggy and stifling as it does in here.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you suddenly hear yourself say, spontaneously, no thought put into it whatsoever. One last try, one last attempt to avoid it, a last-ditch go at flight before he gives you no choice and you’re left with this one remaining option. “This isn’t a good idea. It’s… not healthy. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

This gets a small chuckle out of him. “I know you don’t, pretty baby.”

“Then let’s just call the whole thing off,” you propose once again, trying to lighten your tone, make it a… a friendly thing. It sounds so fake, even to your own ears—since when would you be desperate enough to let the dreaded petname slide?—but granted, you know what they say about time and measures and all that shit. “We can call it a tie, just go back to the way things were befo—”

He cuts you off and pins you with his gaze through the reflection. “You realize that you begging me to put an end to your suffering is—ridiculously hot, mostly—but also only an incentive to make me keep pushing until you finally give in?”

You groan and comb some of your hair off your forehead, not liking the way it’s getting just the slightest bit damp. “Fine, we won’t call it off, but can we at least just stop—” You immediately catch yourself, not wanting to unintentionally push this too far too quickly, but your hesitation is clear and compelling enough for him to prompt you.

“At least just stop what?” Dameron asks, and though you don’t think it’s intentional or even noticeable from his perspective, something about the way his voice sounds… husky. Low to the ground.

“Stop dragging it out,” you breathe, your heart pounding. Why is your heart pounding so fucking fast? This is a fucking sting op, a facade, so why are you getting so caught up in the lie you’ve spun for yourself? “Finish it. Sooner, rather than later. Quit being masochists about it, just fucking put it to—”

Maker, your eyes instinctively snap to his at your poor choice of wording, having almost said bed on complete accident. Genuinely, you didn’t mean to phrase it that way, but at the same time, the thought of it almost burns you alive. Fuck. Dameron, and you, in bed. It could be mean. It could be rough. A fight for dominance more than anything. He’s bigger than you and he could make it fucking hurt, especially after going without it for as long as you have, but something about how double-edged that type of relief would be isn’t really sinking in for you right now. Like a person slowly dying of thirst that’s fantasizing about drowning. Regardless, the idea of a night with him and the sudden assortment of vivid imagery it provides is enough to get you to shut up and take a deep breath, just wait with your mouth shut for whatever his response is.

Unfortunately, you don’t have to wait long at all.

“This is cute,” he suddenly tells you, and you jerk back and sputter a bunch of consonants stupidly like he smacked you.

“Fuck you?” Are the first recognizable words that can be heard. “I’m not—this isn’t fucking— cute?”

“It’s cute,” Dameron repeats, hiding a soft smile from you with a few of his fingers pressed to his lips. “You,” he says as he points at your reflection, twirling his finger around in circles, “trying to be all sneaky about it, go about your little performance. It’s like… watching a little kid just blatantly fuck up a magic trick but they’re naive enough to think it’s working. Keep going, I’m enthralled.”

You hold still for just a second as ice suddenly sinks through your tummy and clears away any trace of warmth you may have once felt from before. Of course. Stupid. Stupid, you shouldn’t have even tried something like that, you don’t know why you thought…

Horrifyingly, you go dead silent and the lack of an immediate response from you hangs awkwardly in the still air. You’re usually so quick with him, so fiery, letting the things he throws at you just glide right off you, but for some insane reason, you’re actually fucking… embarrassed? A little bit?

You should say something, but your whole body is just frustratingly blank, almost buzzing in mortification, and it gets worse and worse the longer you stay quiet. You don’t usually put yourself in a position to be compromised, and you certainly didn’t think the place he decided to jab this time had particularly thin skin.

You… you’d forgotten what it’s like to have someone laugh at you when you’re genuinely trying your best to flirt.

Well, it’s too late to say anything now, you think. Now it’s just uncomfortable in here—true discomfort, not the typical angry silences. You’re used to that, you’re used to huffing and crossing your arms and ticking your jaw through the breaks in conversation, refusing to say a word because you’re beyond pissed off. This is different. This quiet sits different in the air, this emotion hits different in your chest, somewhere vulnerable. A crack in your armor he found without even necessarily intending to, but at this point, the stupid way you can’t seem to hide the wound from him is just as much to blame.

“So, uh…” Dameron clears his throat as you shut your eyes tight against the awkwardness, but you can still feel a strange little shift in the air from behind you. There’s something about the enclosed space, the quiet darkness surrounding you both, you feel… too close to him. Sharing his air, feeling the energy when it’s cramped and you’re not able to just get up and storm away from him like normal. You don’t like it. You don’t like that you can immediately tell something has changed without being able to see him, that type of intimacy between you is pushing a boundary you can’t quite pinpoint but know exists.

You snap your eyes open and look over at Dameron’s reflection when he’s quiet for too long, and though you try to glare as fiercely as possible at him while you do it, the look on his face almost stops you dead. The pure intensity raging in his expression, the way he’s got his eyes narrowed, flicking back and forth between yours, carefully studying you, wondering if perhaps he may have gotten it all wrong. “I mean, y’know. Theoretically speaking, and all. If I broke, you’d let me fuck you?”

You… aren’t expecting that.

You don’t know why but your heart suddenly starts to race again, but it’s not the same as before. Before it was speeding up and at an angle, like a rocket trying to escape a body’s gravitational pull, to go somewhere, search for something. This time it just feels like it’s ricketing downhill, unsteady and out of control, about to break apart with every single pothole that rattles and slams through you. Shit. You didn’t expect the ultimatum would be presented to you so up front like that—you thought there’d be… some resistance, at least.

Fuck, you take way too fucking long thinking about it, and your face feels warmer and warmer the more you mentally pick apart his specific phrasing, wondering where you should even begin. You still haven’t said anything, but the damage is already done. What should've been a firm, instantaneous go fuck yourself is left suspended, unanswered, open for interpretation. You miss your window of opportunity to shut him down, you overshoot it by a longshot, and then you feel that spark of a what-if flare deep down once more.

No, fucking stop it. Stop it. Maker, your eyes do everything they can to not look at him while you concentrate and work to tap into your anger, stoking the flames of your fire to avoid feeling… temptation. How dare he? How fucking dare he do this to you, especially when there’s no chance to get out of here, to abort mission and cut your losses? You clench your jaw and isolate that fury, magnify it until it’s the only thing you can feel anymore.

“My turn now,” Dameron eventually breaks the silence to clarify, blinking at you, and by this point you’re so fucking pissed off that you don’t recognize that isn’t actually a question.

“No,” you immediately snap, strung far too thin to deal with this new, treacherous territory with him. Defaulting to normal is best, it’s easier. “No, it’s not your turn, and fuck no, you can’t fuck me, not even if it means I win this stupid bet. No to everything that has anything to fucking do with you, alright? Don’t talk to me. You’re lucky if I agree to sleep in the same fucking room as you tonight. And—and?—I think your beard looks dumb.”

Okay, so maybe the last part was just a little bit childish, but you’re in such a bad fucking mood and you want to insult something he’s clearly just trying out for right now, hasn’t yet solidified as part of his usual appearance and unshakeable confidence in it. It’s a downright lie—you think he might look more attractive with it than he ever has. Effortlessly rugged and masculine, framing his face and making his eyes all the more piercing.

You don’t think it works, but regardless, he heeds your sharp words and says nothing for a good few minutes at least. You had hoped the break in interaction would allow you the ability to reset a little bit, give yourself time to work through it, but it’s like the pressure in the air steadily increases regardless of how silent it is in here—or perhaps, because of it.

You can’t help it. You flick your eyes to the transparisteel in front of you once more and catch his reflection staring directly at you, unmoving. It jars you as much as it sparks your anger, and you glare down at your hands and give him a few seconds. A few seconds of grace, of mercy, before you try again.

Sure enough, he’s still got his dark eyes pinned to you when you go to check once more, like he’s actually fucking thinking about something right now, which is just… astounding, for obvious reasons. Mainly, the nerve of him. The fucking nerve of him to be able to look at you like that, like he’s just entitled to study your every feature, searching your eyes for things you’ve never looked deep enough to find within yourself, making incredibly loud assumptions with his mind that he has absolutely no right to be making.

“Shut up,” You snap at him defensively, feeling like you’re sweating buckets even in the freezing emptiness of dead space. You can’t figure out if it’s a cold sweat or if your body is legitimately just malfunctioning under his stare. “Shut up.”

You watch as his reflection suddenly drops his head back against the seat and rolls out the stiffness of his neck, blinking his eyes shut and raising his eyebrows like you’re completely overreacting, like he has absolutely no idea. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re not that dumb,” you challenge. “You’re… plotting. Evil plotting.”

A thick eyebrow drops so that only one is quirked up, and a grin pulls at his lips.

“You’re right,” Dameron admits casually after a moment with his eyes still closed, his voice pitched low in the cramped ship. “I was thinking about what it’s gonna take to get you to lose.”

You swallow against the dryness in your throat, starting to unintentionally bounce one of your legs up and down without even realizing it. Fuck, this ship is small, it’s too fucking small in here—you gaze wistfully out at the vast endlessness of space, wanting to grit your teeth at the irony of being surrounded by the one thing you so desperately wish you had.

“I just have to find a weakness,” he shifts forward in his seat and reveals to you, bewilderingly shameless in his honesty. Like all of a sudden you’re an accomplice to this endeavor instead of its target, as if he isn’t spoiling the secret by letting you in on it. “Something that you like, that gets you going. Something that riles you up, gets you all hot and bothered down there—”

“So you can exploit it,” you huff, slouching over a bit and trying not to sound like you’re pouting.

“—so I can exploit it,” he finishes happily, collapsing back into his seat like he’s glad you caught on so quick and he doesn’t have to explain further. “Now we can do the whole routine—the bickering, the tension, the undeniable sexual chemistry we have—or we can skip all that and you can just tell me flat out what it’s gonna take to rev that pretty little engine up, because I want it purring.”

And, it’s so fucking weird, because the specific verbiage that would normally make you cringe just hearing it spoken aloud doesn’t inspire the typical response, even though it feels like it should. It feels like you should be grossed out, it feels like a moment you should screw up your facial expression and act offended, but you’re… not. This is actually fucking working, it’s unbelievable. The undeniable fact infuriates you just as much as it stumps you.

“You do realize that everything you say is a game that two can play at, right?” You point out, not really sure where you’re going with this but feeling heated about it all the same. “What’s stopping me from exploiting something you like?”

“See now that’s a great idea,” Dameron announces, clapping his hands together happily and sending you jumping a few inches in your seat at the sudden sound, your hand automatically shooting up to rest on your thumping heart. “I can tell you what I like, and you can just listen.”

Alright, no, wait—backtrack—

“How about I tell you what I don’t like,” you snip breathlessly, tucking your hair behind your ear and feeling all the blood rush to your cheeks. Default to normal, default to normal. “Your fucking attitude. Your demeanor. The way you talk down to me. You don’t listen. You walk around like you’re such hot shit just because you’re a good pilot but none of that means anything when you don’t ever fucking listen. You’re terrible at it, doesn’t matter who’s talking—you don’t listen to me, you don’t listen to people who actually like you, you don’t listen to orders, you don’t listen to reason—”

“You think I’m a good pilot?” He suddenly asks, and you have to take a second. This cockpit isn’t designed for anything other than sitting, much less turning all the way around, but you’re sure you can find some way to throttle him from here. He chuckles as you let out the loudest sigh you’ve ever heard yourself make—which, is an incredible feat you think both of you should be congratulated for—before Dameron eventually carries on. “You could tell me that,” he admits with a shrug, a hidden smile on his face that he’s trying to bite back. “Or you could tell me the truth.”

You shouldn’t encourage him, but you just can’t fucking help it. There’s something inside you, something you can only compare to a morbid sort of curiosity. Maybe you’re just a glutton for punishment, even more so than agreeing to this bet has already confirmed. “And that would be—?”

“That you use anger as a defense mechanism because I touch a nerve you didn’t realize you had,” Dameron replies breezily. “Have since the moment we met. And that you maybe want me to touch something else, but you’re too stubborn and proud and committed to hating me to ever admit it. You can admit it, it’s okay, I can touch whatever you need me to tou—”

“How about the emergency eject button?” You hiss, finally feeling your frustration peak. “Pop the top on this bitch. Put me out of my fucking misery, right now. You’ve got such a big head that the blood flow will probably keep your tiny little brain warm enough as long as you strap yourself down beforehand, I’ll wait. And then you can go back to base, alone , and find another poor girl to emotionally torture since you probably don’t get enough of it from the ones you work your way through but can never remember the most basic things about.”

Remarkably, that actually shuts him up. You’re doubtful the jab really hurts him, but you’re not going to feel bad about it either way. He deserved that. You cross your arms over your chest and don’t even bother looking at him, huffing and flushed with the climax of your ferocity, now left feeling strangely exhausted in its wake. Eventually your breathing evens out and disappears into the silence, until nothing at all can be heard.

It’s like that for a moment—only a moment, before the loud tearing of velcro suddenly shreds through the quiet in the cockpit, completely rattling you. Automatically your eyes shoot over to his reflection, watching large hands pull the orange jumpsuit apart at his chest and then shrug it over broad shoulders. It’s not sexual. It can’t be sexual, because there’s just no fucking room to allow it—it takes him forever to pull the long sleeves down his arms, but the way he drags it out somehow just increases your anticipation for an event you should have absolutely no interest in spectating. He’s wearing a white sleeveless undershirt underneath and the jumpsuit bunches at his waist, making him look all the longer and more defined as he finally collapses back into his seat and reclines in it, the distant constellations bathing his lean torso in dim speckles of starlight.

Your gaze catches on every good part of him—it falls down the muscular lines of his neck and follows the thin gold chain wrapped around it, disappearing into the white of his scooping neckline. His toned body finds a place to rest and stretch out without looking awkward or uncomfortable, coarse hair darkening his jaw and dusting the strong lines of his forearms—but it’s his eyes that make your heart stutter. They’re endlessly deep and dark and knowing , and you can’t seem to look away from him, not even when he opens his mouth to address you.

“You’re always so fucking mean to me,” Dameron remarks, and for just a split second—just a split second, you feel a stab of regret. “I should eat you out tonight.”

Fuck, he hits the nail right on the head on his very first try, and just hearing the words come out of his mouth so effortlessly makes your pussy clench in on itself in need. Nothing about his inflection changed from one sentence to the next, nothing in his voice made it seem like he just flipped the fucking galaxy upside down with just a few words. To an onlooker who doesn’t speak Basic, they’d have absolutely no hint as to why your face is suddenly radiating heat at an industrial capacity, blazing hot enough to warm the whole cockpit. You feel like you’re literally burning up with it. You have to put a palm to your cheek to make sure it’s not actually on fucking fire. “What— what did you just say to me?”

“That’s what you need,” he drawls, unbothered by the sharpness of your tone. “What you’ve needed, ever since I can remember. Should’ve done it a long fucking time ago, now that I’m thinking about it. How long’s it been? Tell me the truth, I know it’s been awhile.”

You feel like you’re being roasted alive like one of those hairy little Kowakian monkey-lizards that you’re pretty sure have sentient designation but are the first to be skewered and cooked over the firepit regardless. Your heart is slamming against your sternum and you scramble to come up with an even slightly clever response after such an ambush.

“This is your plan?” You raise an eyebrow at him, feeling a bead of sweat drop down your temple and onto the corner of your lashes. Oh fuck, be cool, be cool. “You think this is gonna work? Ask me if I want a weak orgasm and rugburn on my thighs?”

“I can shave,” Dameron proposes quietly, lifting his chin and gently scrubbing the side of his cheek. The sound of the thick bristles against his fingers makes you swallow thickly and push back very vivid thoughts of how his face would feel between your legs. How soft and wet his mouth would feel at the center of that thick, coarse beard. “Tonight, I’ll shave it off. Make it nice and smooth for you.”

Something inside you surges up to assure him he absolutely should not shave, and you actually have to bite your tongue to keep it buried at the last second. Stars, that was a close one, what the fuck prompted that?

“I don’t give a shit what you do,” you quickly return, resisting the urge to wipe your brow. “Beard or no beard, makes no difference. Foreplay is overrated, I’m not big on wasting time.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” he immediately laments—so quick , and the worst part is that the sympathy in his voice actually sounds sincere. You’re having trouble looking him in the eyes right now, hearing the genuine pity come through in his tone. “Who… who did this to you?”

“You said you want to figure out what I like, what turns me on,” you return, tucking your hair behind your ear once more and trying not to sound self-conscious. Maker, how long until your shift is over? You need to get out of here, this shit is… way out of your league. “I’m not into it, so try again.”

“Really?” Dameron takes a moment to look at you, furrow his thick eyebrows at you in barely concealed curiosity, before his head tilts sideways and drops to his shoulder. “Normally I’d respect that, but I meant it when I said you need it.”

“We fucking hate each other, Dameron,” you hiss, a reminder to him as much as it is to yourself. Fuck, you really don’t like where this is going. “You don’t know anything about me, you don’t know what the I n—”

“I bet you think we’d fuck hard,” he murmurs, low enough that you have to take an unsteady breath and physically brace yourself for whatever is going to come from that dirty mouth next. “You think that maybe I’d throw you around a little, give it to you from behind, teach you a fucking lesson for always talking back to me. But that’s primitive shit, Gold-Ten, that’s not for you.”

Resist. Resist . You’re part of the fucking Resistance, for Maker’s sake, you’re taught to hold out until death in torture scenarios. Since when did this tin can suddenly become a new POW camp simulation you have to train for?

“I want to take you apart so slow that you can’t talk at all,” Dameron continues quietly, and you close your eyes, biting your bottom lip hard enough to sting. “We don’t even have to fuck—I mean, I want to, but mostly I just want to taste you. Go nice and slow. I want you on your back, so I can look in your eyes and see all that anger just… fade away. I want to watch you try to fight how fucking good I’ll make it. How hot it’s gonna be when you can’t glare at me anymore, when your pretty doll eyes go all soft and sweet and you finally realize that I’ve never hated you at all.”

Maker. This is a trick. It’s not a question, it shouldn’t be presented like one—this is a dirty rotten trick , and you’re not gonna fall for it. You can’t fucking fall for it. It’s a low blow, and you refuse to even acknowledge he said anything at all. He’s lying to get your guard down. He laughed at your flirting. He’s a shit person, he’s using you, this isn’t real.

Real or not, you still gulp loud enough for him to hear it.

“We could go back to our room after our shift is over,” he offers out of the blue, and you have no clue why, but when he pauses and lets it hang in the air for a second, you don’t interrupt him. You stay completely silent while he waits for you, waits for your typical snarky comeback. You have it in your head instantly, you know what you’d normally say. Your room. It’s not ‘our’ room, it’s fucking your room that you’re generous enough to let him bunk in, a privilege he’s this fucking close to losing—but you can’t find it in yourself to say it right now. Your anger is gradually losing the war to your arousal and you’re forced to watch every single small defeat inside you happen from the sidelines.

His reflection blinks at you through the transparisteel, his eyebrows raising just slightly at your prolonged silence, before he suddenly sits up a little and leans forward.

“And I could lock the door,” Dameron continues, lowering his voice, both in volume and register. “The lights in there are way too fucking bright but I don’t want to be in complete darkness, so maybe we can turn them off and open the port shade, let just enough light come through to see. I could turn on the radio, find something quiet, easy to listen to. Something you like, I’ll let you pick it out. And then… Wait, hang on, which bed?”

You clench your jaw and purposefully say nothing even as your pussy squeezes, glaring right through his reflection into the black void of space.

“Mmm. Your bed,” he eventually decides. “I want you comfortable. You shower at night. Your hair will be wet and you’ll be in those baggy pajamas that you think I can’t see your nipples through, the ones that I know you take off under your covers and then put on in the morning when you think I’m still asleep. That’s good, I want you relaxed, so that maybe… maybe you’d let me take your panties off at some point. And you could lay back and open your legs, and I could go down on you for a little while. However long you need.”

Fuck.

No, this isn’t fucking happening. Your lower muscles aren’t twisting in so hard that it actually fucking hurts, your pussy isn’t leaking through two layers of fabric under your jumpsuit, your body isn’t outright revolting against the sheer neglect you’ve put it through. Maker, it’s fucking painful. You have to clench your hands into fists and dig your fingernails into your palms before you can open your mouth.

“You want to know what I need?” You nearly wheeze, a drop of sweat sliding down the back of your neck this time. Your body feels like it’s three sizes too big for this cockpit and your skin feels like it’s three sizes too small for your body. “I need you to shut the fuck u—”

“What you need,” Dameron purrs, sliding up closer behind your seat and sighing soft against the worn material of your headrest, “is a warm mouth to cum in. Don’t be shy, pretty baby, you can tell me.”

You growl out his last name as threateningly as you possibly can before he purrs yours right back in your ear, and fuck, you’ve never heard it sound so sexual before. Last names allow pilots to maintain a respectful distance from each other. Flight designations are Resistance-wide, but last names are just… allies. Not friends, not companions, but a vast network of people brought together by a common enemy. It hurts to lose a first name. But the way yours sounds rolling off of Dameron’s tongue is just too sinful, too intimate when calling you that is meant to sever intimacy by design. He says it slow and makes it dirty, muddies it in the back of his throat as he slides up even closer to you, until his face is right next to yours as you stare at each other through the transparisteel.

“I’m really…” he pauses, before exhaling through his nose and swallowing thick enough to make his Adam’s apple drop and bounce up again, his tongue coming out to wet his plush lips as he blinks slowly at you with a heavy gaze, “… really good at it. Call me Poe and I’ll do it for you all night.”

Shit, your pussy is just a fucking mess right now. It feels like it’s melting sweet and syrupy all over your thighs, throbbing and pounding and clamping up and screaming at you to do something, at least press your hand down there to alleviate some of the aching tensi—

No— stars, no touching yourself is rule number two. You drop your hands to your thighs and squeeze them, trying to reign yourself back in.

“I think you’re—just projecting,” you try, but turns out responding in general is just an all-around bad idea. Nothing about it comes out right. The ‘just’ sounds like your tongue is stuck to the roof of your mouth and your voice cracks on the word ‘projecting,’ but you don’t even have time to be self-conscious or embarrassed at how much you’re giving yourself away—all your energy has to go towards fighting the tightness between your open legs, how you’re so fucking turned on that you’re worried you’ll cum without even touching yourself. Oh Maker, can you imagine? How fucking proud of himself he’d be? You can’t let that happen, but fuck, holding back something so appealing is so much harder than it sounds.

Tap into that anger, tap into that anger—only, you can’t suddenly find it. Where’d it go? Fuck, doesn’t matter, conjure it. Quick, before it’s too late, get mad —don’t let him lure you into a… a false…

Dameron tilts his chin down towards the line of your shoulder and then slowly turns his head towards your neck, breathing you in gently.

A false sense of…

His soft exhale makes goosebumps break out all the way down your arms.

… What?

“Maybe you’re right,” Dameron acknowledges, talking just under your ear. You watch his eyelids dip and the dark beard brushes against your skin and you catch just a hint of that woodsy, spicy scent engulfing you. Like… teakwood, maybe? Stars, you don’t know, you think you’re starting to lose your mind. What the fuck does teakwood even smell like? “Maybe it’s just what I need. You should exploit it, chances are I’ll still cum first.”

That rockets another painful spasm down low. It hurts so fucking bad—fuck, maybe you could… rub yourself up against these weapons controls? Just a little bit? That joystick, right there, just ease yourself up against it just to nurse this wound a little bit…?

No, fucking— bad. That’s bad, you have to stop—

“This isn’t real, this isn’t—y-you just…” You flutter your eyelashes shut, digging your fingernails into your thighs like it’ll help break through the fog of his lulling voice, how fucking amazing he smells right now. “You just want to win th-the b—”

“ Fuck the bet,” he tells you quietly, his head dipped low enough now that his lips brush against your neck, and you shudder so hard at the sensation that your shoulder almost knocks into his chin with it. “You really think I’m doing all this for a fucking bet?”

Don’t trust him, don’t trust him, don’t—

Your deep breath is so stuttery and uneven that it’s technically just a series of shallow inhales all anxiously strung together, too desperate for oxygen to go about it legato. It’s painfully obvious to him by now, it has to be, but you very quickly miss the shaky breathing as soon as he takes away your ability to do it all together.

“Let me taste you,” he whispers, his voice almost breaking with how gentle it is, how it sounds like it flips in and out of his register when he speaks this low. “Right now, let’s make it real, let m—I know you have to be soaking fucking wet, baby, just let me try a little bit of it, please—I’m… holy shit, I’m so hard just thinking about it.”

“You c-can’t,” you stammer, reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. At him, at the situation, at the painful throb of emptiness between your legs. “Fuck, it’s not allowed, it’s against the rules—”

“It won’t be,” he assures you, and you hiccup when you suddenly feel his hand brush against your side, strong fingers branching out to curve against your ribcage. “You don’t have to do anything, you can stay just like this. Just a few seconds and then I’ll stop, I promise.”

Oh, Maker, it’s on the very top of your tongue, so unbelievably close to telling him something—but you don’t know what it should be. You’re right at the tipping point, on a tightrope right between what you want and what you should want. And, knowing you’re this close to giving in, Dameron slowly eases his hand down your side and starts to trail it inwards, and just the lightest brush of his warm tongue against your neck shatters any composure you have left.

You whimper and instinctively try to close your legs, but you fucking can’t— your knees are forced wide apart by controls and your whole body freezes when his hand slides down and folds gently along the curve of your pussy through the thick fabric of your jumpsuit.

The feeling of being held like this by him is just too good , cradled so perfectly in his palm as he opens his mouth and flutters his tongue out to taste your skin again, giving you a little more of it this time and letting you feel the roughness of his beard with the way his lips move. Your breath catches, then he hooks his fingertips up just the slightest bit and pulls back, and you suddenly have to smack your whole hand over your face in a terrible attempt to stifle your loud gasp.

“Oh, Maker, I c-can’t,” you stammer against your fingers, not being able to trust him or your own body. You continue to protest even after he moves back up, resting his palm low on your abdomen, letting the heat bleed through the fabric and transfer directly to your floor muscles as he lifts his head up from your shoulder. “I can’t, we can’t, I…”

You can’t see him, but you know he’s looking at you. He’s staring right at you through the reflection, studying the way you’re hiding your face from him, how you’re still melting, still losing your composure just from the warm palm pressed tight your tummy.

His touch leaves you for a second. But then the deafening sound of velcro ripping at the crotch of your jumpsuit has you dragging your hand down your mouth and your eyelids dipping.

“Dameron,” you breathe into your fingers, just as his carefully slip into the small opening and begin to work at the button to your pants. “Dameron, this isn’t—you don’t want—”

“You don’t get to tell me what I don’t want,” he grunts at you, and you try not to bite yourself at the sound of him unzipping things and yanking fabric to the side. “What I really fucking want is the real thing, but I guess this’ll have to do for now.”

“I—” Your mind whirs desperately, trying to process when his fingers wedge under your panties and down. But he doesn’t give you a single fucking second. As soon as the tip of his middle finger reaches your slit, he’s dropping it and sliding it through your slick, hot, unbearably neglected cunt.

“Fuck,” he spits, and you feel like you might be about to break your own fucking jaw with how hard you’re clutching it, trying so desperately not to make a noise. The pad of his finger is rough and calloused as it drags against your clit in slow, tight circles, and you clamp your eyes shut and try to breathe normally, but it’s no use. Fuck , it’s been so long . You’ve been aching for it for a full fucking month and a half now and you know that even if he couldn’t feel it, he can hear how drenched you are right now. It’s making an obscene sound as he steadily masturbates you with one heavenly finger, giving your body what it’s desperately craved for so many weeks. “Fuck, baby’s pussy got fucking wet hearing me talk about how good I’d lick it, huh?”

That sends a bright flare launching through you and you gasp raggedly, both hands whipping out to snatch at his forearm where it disappears between your legs. “No, shit, wait, stopstopstopstop stop , I—”

His hand slips out immediately and yet you continue to tremble like his finger is still right there, like your clit is just imagining it so vividly that it’s successfully convincing itself of the illusion. The aching bit of flesh is burning, that good burn, the one that’s searing and bright that makes your muscles continue to chase the sensation long after the stimulation is gone. Fuck, he almost made you cum. He barely touched you for a few seconds and yet your fingers have to tighten into claws to slow your body down the fuck down, flexing against your thighs and trying your best to halt the impending climax.

By the time you’re able to wrangle yourself back from the edge and look at his reflection, his middle finger is already in his mouth and he’s blinking slowly at you, his pupils blown wide. You’re breathing hard at him, staring open-mouthed at the way his lips are closed below his second knuckle, how he takes forever dragging it back out again. You have to close your eyes. You have to clamp them shut and keep them that way, knowing you won’t be able to look at him through whatever he’s going to say next.

Except, oddly, he doesn’t say much.

“Shit,” he breathes, dropping his mouth to your neck once more. “Shhhit. I…”

Your eyes snap open in sudden, blind panic when he doesn’t continue, horrified at the possibility that he doesn’t like it. Dameron always has something to say, he doesn’t go speechless. “Oh—Maker, is it not—?”

“Mmmfuck, just—” he grits, panting hot air against your skin, “—fuck. Give me a second.”

You can only see the crown of his head with the way he’s angled, but you can see his shoulders a little further back. They start… moving slightly. Just the littlest bit, a smooth motion, like his whole body is slowly easing back and forth—

The nav controls are between his legs, you immediately realize. He’s grinding up against them with how close he is to you and your seat.

And suddenly, it’s like there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. A ray of sunshine that breaks through the raging storm. Dameron might cum in his pants like this. Which means you’ll win, and arguably more importantly, you’ll finally be able to cum. You don’t even take a moment to consider the potential consequences—how you’re going to have to withstand the stimulation until he succumbs to it, how you’ll have to outlast—but you’re not thinking straight. You’re not really thinking at all.

“You can…” you suddenly hear yourself whisper, and your heart pounds in your throat when he instantly stops moving. “One… one more. If you want. You can put your finger inside this time, it’s where I’m the… w-wettest.”

“Fuck,” Dameron croaks into the crook of your neck, his voice scraping low and rough and sending a tremor through you. “Fuck, okay, yeah—”

His hand slides across your hip and down, but you catch him just in time.

“But don’t touch my clit.” You try to sound as firm as possible through the breathlessness, still trying to put your foot down even when you’re giving in, and Dameron’s teeth come out as he stifles a soft groan into your neck in response.

“Yes, baby,” he murmurs obediently as his hand sinks down once more, and so diligently, he avoids it altogether. His fingers slide under your panties and fall straight down to your entrance, down to where you know you’re the hottest, where your pussy is flexing and pushing wetness out with a steady, wicked throb. The pad of his middle finger presses gently against the tight muscles there, rubs just the slightest bit to feel that resistance, and then the length of it eases inside you so slowly that your knees rattle against bulky metal.

“Fucking Maker , ” he hisses as he slides it in, his body making a sudden jerk against the controls.

Your eyes roll back at the feeling of something inside you after so long, after such a torturous buildup, and you grasp at his forearm again when it curls naturally up against searing pleasure. Oh, it’s so good, it’s so good, your hands shake while he very carefully moves it in and out, the raw sparks of heat threatening to incinerate you as your muscles cling to every ridge of his finger. He gets it sopping wet, bathes it so completely in your slick that you’re almost certain it’ll come out pruny and drenched.

“Shit, okay,” you pant, squeezing desperately around his finger, “o-okay, fuck, that’s enough.”

His hand pulls out… slower this time. He slips his finger out of you quick enough, but he drags the tip of it through your folds as he retreats, just barely grazing your clit and making you jolt in your seat. Shit, you don’t know if it felt intentional enough to fault him for it—mostly it just excites you, thrills you to have him edge you like this without really needing to put any effort at all into it.

Dameron lifts his head to sink his finger deep into his mouth once more, and you tremble as you watch him enjoy it, staring at the way his shoulders seem to relax as soon as your taste is on his tongue, how his face goes soft with it and he almost slumps.

Relief. Genuine, not embellished. He still doesn’t say anything after he slowly slides it out and blinks at you, no sugar sweet drawl telling you how amazing you taste, no candied words to make you give in and let him have another go. You’re both breathing hard at each other, staring, waiting to see who will break first.

Stars, you… fucking like this. You want him to keep going, but you can’t offer it again. It’s just too exposing, too revealing to let him you’re actually really fucking enjoying this, you can’t—

“Do you w—?” Your voice automatically comes out through the silence without your permission, sounding just absolutely fucking wrecked by this point, but his palm is already slithering back down as soon as you speak, and you make the softest little submissive noise in your throat at him taking immediate initiative like that. He’s not as careful about it this time—his hand finds its target with less frill, his finger slides in quicker, sinking deep into your heat with little hesitation, lighting you on fire from the inside out, and you bite the meat of your thumb to stay quiet.

“Fuck, this is so hot,” he suddenly breathes next to your ear while your legs spasm and you gasp brokenly. “This is so—fuck, pretty baby letting me do this to her, I can’t fucking believe—”

Dameron eases a second finger inside you this time, letting you feel that delicious stretch from this angle, unable to lift your legs or shuffle around to help and subsequently resigned to simply experience it the way he gives it to you. Your teeth have probably permanently indented your bottom lip from how hard you’re clamped down, a testament to how much you’re trying to hold back the loud moan you miraculously haven’t released yet. Somehow it makes it sexier, not letting him hear you, not having your own noises to drown out the spark of urgency in his voice beginning to peek through.

Shit, it’s too much. You can only let him touch you a few seconds at a time before you feel that familiar tug towards mind-numbing bliss, and the more he does it, the more appealing that feeling then becomes. It’s teasing you, floating right in front of you and calling into question what could possibly be so bad about just reaching out to meet it? You could. You could cum right now. What’s two weeks of pay? You could cum all night long if you want, that is a thing you can do—

Quickly snapping out of your hypnotic downfall, your trembling hands snatch at his forearm once more, and Dameron, the fucker, drags his fingers slowly over your clit on the way out— so not accidental, not even close to it this time, but the sensation makes your hips stutter upwards and chase it nonetheless.

“Fuck you,” you groan at his audacity, your chest arching as you drop your head back, “I said don’t touch my—” but two wet fingers slipping past your lips and onto your tongue muffle the rest of your sentence. Your heart does half a somersault before slamming down early, the taste of your pussy filling your mouth as you automatically start sucking on them.

“None of that,” Dameron tells you softly, massaging his fingers along your tongue before pressing a sweet kiss under your ear. “Be nice. I’m being nice.”

You should bite him. Instead, you just close your eyes and mphh weakly around his fingers, your body sagging as you give into it and let him explore your mouth with them, your lower muscles cramping up in painful desperation even when he’s not anywhere near that part of your body right now. Your tongue even comes up to lick between them, swirl around them so soft compared to how hard you’re puffing through your nose.

Dameron slowly inches his fingers out, letting the tips of them rest against your bottom lip for just a brief moment, before his hand is moving again. Not down, but back and around, so he can open his mouth and taste you another way this time.

Shit, you feel like you’re dying. You need air. Your hands clench into fists and you use the back of one to wipe the sweat from the bridge of your nose while he takes his time sampling you like this. If anything, he looks just as blissed out as before, continuing to rub his crotch up against the solid metal between his legs and teasing you with it as much as he’s teasing himself.

“Maker, let me do this for real tonight, okay,” Dameron pants after dropping his fingers from his mouth, sounding like he’s fighting for his breath while you can’t find yours at all. Your eyes flick down to watch the way his hand disappears behind the chair to grab the controls and push his cock up against them even harder, how he drops his forehead to your neck like he just can’t fucking handle it anymore. “Fuck, I’ll shave, I’ll do anything you want, just let me—”

“Cum,” you gasp out before you can stop yourself, and there’s a moment after it where his hips suddenly stutter against the controls, and you both freeze.

Shit. Shitshitshit, did that actually work?

No, you very quickly realize, his body isn’t spasming like it would if he finally emptied his load after a month and a half. He’s just… holding there, his head buried in your neck, completely still.

You didn’t mean it like that. Well… fuck, you did, but you didn’t realize you’d be that reckless about it, that upfront about reissuing the challenge.

Dameron pulls back to look at you from the side this time, but it’s too cramped—he keeps his head turned facing you even as his eyes flick up to the transparisteel to take in the finer details of your features, the thin sheen of sweat on your forehead, and the slightly alarmed way you’re blinking back at him, worried you just shot your blaster at him in the midst of a mutual ceasefire and you fucking missed.

You see the understanding in his eyes instantly fall into place, and it’s not fucking good. Ohhhhhh no, it’s not good. Your chest starts rising and falling rapidly, suddenly registering the position you just put yourself in. Fuck, you didn’t think—you saw your opening, so clearly, you didn’t have time to think about the consequences.

“D-Dameron…” you try your best to placate.

“Don’t touch your clit?” He asks quietly, the raspiness of his voice ripping a hole through you while his hand suddenly shoves its way back down your body once more.

“Dameron,” you whimper, your heart stuttering in panic as you grasp weakly at his arm reaching between your spread thighs, “Dameron, this is—this is against the r-rules—”

“You keep saying that,” he comments, his fingers easily finding the opening in your jumpsuit no matter how hard you flex your thighs against bulky mechanics to try and close them. “How clearly do you remember the rules? What were the rules again?

You open your mouth to respond but his hand sliding under your panties and down just obliterates any chance you were going to attempt. No words, nothing comes out but a shaky whine as his finger sinks into your soaking heat, going right for the kill.

“Come on, baby, the rules,” Dameron reminds you when you never give him an answer. “Tell me. No fucking, no jerking off, and…?”

You suddenly struggle forwards in a last-ditch attempt at preventing the inevitable, hoping you can scoot up enough in your seat to escape his reach from behind. But fuck, your thighs have been shoved wide open for nearly eight hours—none of the muscles are working the way they should be anymore. There’s just enough room in front of you to get there and you probably would’ve been able to do it at the beginning of the shift, even with his hand between your legs like this, but you’re sluggish and your thighs pull sharp and urgent with the movement. The frantic maneuver enough to veer his fingers off course just slightly, moving one of your lips to the side at an angle, and you keep pushing against the pain no matter how useless it is.

“—No cumming,” he finishes for you, and his other hand is slithering up under your arm and groping one of your breasts through the jumpsuit before shoving you back tight up against your seat once more, totally helpless against it. “Probably have another fifteen minutes or so before our shift ends. Better hold it in, pretty baby, because this one is all you.”

“This—this isn’t fair, this is—” The second the slippery pad of his finger presses hard against your clit, you’re biting your lip to cut off a breathless whimper that slips out. “This is… is sab— sabotage— ”

“Oh, I know,” he moans next to your ear, mocking your high plea of distress with a fake, overly sympathetic whine. “Feels so fucking good though, doesn’t it?”

Fuck, it does. The build feels like an orgasm in itself, just working your way to it. You’re already so unbelievably close after just a few seconds of direct stimulation, an obvious consequence of originally agreeing to such a hardcore edging workout. You’re pouring sweat, so swollen and tight between your legs as you do everything you can to revolt against your body’s needs.

“Oh fuck, stop touching my clit—” you gasp raggedly, heart thundering in panic while your lower muscles start to immediately seize up, “oh—fuckfuckfuck— Poe, take your finger off m—”

Instead of doing it, his hand just slows down until the tip of his finger comes to a halt, maybe less than an inch over top of it. You still can’t catch your breath though, not when you feel yourself throbbing against absolutely nothing, the calloused pad holding perfectly still over the bundle of nerves. The swollen bud still arcs and flares at a steady frequency, building and building, and you choke out a wordless garble, absolutely fucking furious that this is what’s gonna make you cum.

“Don’t make me cum,” you switch up your sentence but not the terrified plead in your voice, the way it’s pitching up and out of control in the dead quiet of space. He doesn’t even acknowledge it. “Don’t make me cum, don—”

“Say it again,” he prompts instead, and lightning arcs up your spine.

“Poe,” you wheeze, the words coming from you without thought, your fingernails digging into his forearm even as your hips jerk up into his touch, “fuck, don’t make me cum, Poe—please don’t make me c—”

“But it’ll be so good,” he counters lowly, and your clit throbs in desperation at the richness of his voice when he speaks like this, saying things from deep in his chest. “It’ll be so fucking good when it happens. Stars, you’ll feel so much better, won’t you? Cum right now and I’ll give you as many as I can until we have to go home.”

“N-No,” you whine, feeling his teeth scrape at the crook of your neck. “No, I can’t—”

“Cum for me,” Dameron raises his voice, sharpening it into a direct order. “Right now. Come on— fucking make yourself lose.”

“But I—I—” you sob, starting to feel your body curl inwards, nearly about to succumb to the burning, the tightening, right on its last breath, “I-I don’t want to cum—”

“And I don’t fucking care,“ he hisses while your hands start flexing unintentionally, grasping helplessly at his immovable forearm where it disappears between your legs, the dark hair sliding under your fingertips as you claw desperately at it. “You’ll fucking cum when I tell you to cum and you’ll like it, you disrespectful, cock-deprived, bratty little—”

And then everything goes dark.

No, literally. The stars disappear.

The cockpit is suddenly shrouded in pitch blackness, and you’re almost certain it’s because you pass out, except then Dameron is all but ripping his hand out of your jumpsuit and cursing repeatedly in alarm. You crumple in on yourself, eyes clamped shut and not hearing anything, right at the peak of your ecstasy and ready to soar into the light completely unassisted, your muscles doing all the work on their own—

“—shit, they’re way too close—” you hear his voice shout, “—we have to turn the engines on—Gold-Ten, baby, turn the fucking eng—”

You’re almost there, you’re almost there, you’re gonna cum, you’re gonna fucking—

Your first name, roared out in startling, blinding panic.

You don’t often hear it. Just during roll calls mostly, but only if you’re flying with a different squadron and need a new temporary flight designation for the day. First names hurt. You can’t remember a time you’ve ever willingly told anybody yours.

Your head jerks up to look at his reflection but something else beyond the transparisteel takes immediate precedence. Your brain takes about two seconds to catch up before thundering terror slams through you and halts your previously inevitable orgasm in its fucking tracks. A runaway train about to launch off its tracks suddenly slamming directly into a megaton force-field of cold, hard fight or flight instincts.

A staggering fleet of First Order ships silently plunging out of hyperspace on all sides—your powered-down x-wing stationed right in the middle of the drop location.

***

Stay tuned for part two coming soon!!

#poe x reader #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #SMUTTTT #reader insert #star wars #fanfic #the formatting on this one is downright horrendous but im so mad that i cant even fix it right now so thatll have to come later im sorry

4K notes · View notes

theotheroccassionalfanficwriter · 3 years

Text

Irreverence for the Holy, Adoration for the Carnal

Summary: There is no greater form of irreverence than having a marathon sex in front of Rex Lapis' Statue.(Takes place before Chapter 1 of the Archon Quest)

Rating: E for explicit descriptions of being fucked and filled with Childe’s cum

If there were any perks on being a S-rank Adventurer, it was that there was barely any restriction on how long you could be away from your guild base. And it was a perk that you used quite often as much as possible, if only to spend time with your beloved boyfriend, Ajax. With the amount of missions both in and out of Snezhnaya that were issued to the Harbingers for the past years, the amount of times you could spend with him was pitifully low.

The amount of times, the two of you could have sex was even lower. Most of it was spent catching up with each other, or spending time with his family. Not that you were complaining, the times when the two of you would have sex was phenomenal. Ajax derived great pleasure from making a mess out of you, enjoyed making you lose all coherent thoughts and reducing you into slutty mess.

“My beloved slut” Ajax would call you whenever you were already cumming for the 6th time as he kept on pounding you ignoring the fact that you were still sensitive from your previous orgasm.

And today was not much different from the usual varieties of sex the two of you would engage in. It was, of course, if one would ignore the fact that your Liyue appropriate adventurer clothes were a crumpled mess, stained with cum and your pussy juices. And the very glaring fact that you're clinging on to the base of Mingyun Village’s Rex Lapis Statue.

The squelch of your pussy as Ajax pounded on you, uncaring of you still being sensitive from your previous orgasm only spurs you to a wetter state.

“My, my, just how much do you like it when I treat you so roughly?” Ajax teased, fucking you harder and slowing down, a clear sign that he would cum inside you again, “my darling slut, aren’t you even ashamed that you’re letting one of the Seven see how much of a whore you are?”

You moaned as he hit your g-spot, stuttering as you tried to retort, “Maybe I’m just scheming to have the Geo Archon join-”

Before you could even finish your sentence, Ajax had slammed his dick into you, hands moving away from your hips and swiftly changing your positions. You bite back your surprise only to moan at the sudden change in position.

“If you really want to invite him then we should show him just what kind of excellent pussy you have” He said darkly, a hint of dangerous possessiveness that only served to make you hornier and clench your pussy as you clung onto him and easily allowed your legs to be spread wide, “If you could see yourself right now, I’m sure you’d even get hornier from how slutty you look.”

Your deep breaths was interspersed with the moans Ajax was wringing out of you as you keenly felt the amount of cum that was dripping out from your thoroughly fucked pussy, “It’s because you fuck me so good”

You replied as came once more.

Ajax kissed you softly, appeased by your honesty, as he took out his dick from your pussy, laughing softly at your confused whine, “Let’s make this easier, I want Rex Lapis to properly see how good you are” He said as he laid on the grass and had you on top him, and started fucking you from behind.

This was a testament to his skills as a Harbinger that he barely felt any soreness at the position he was fucking you. His dick didn’t need any further lubrication with the amount of cum he had put into you on top of the orgasms you already had.

“You’re so good, such a magnificent slut for me” Ajax praised as you moaned with each slam of his dick.

“Mo-more please!” You begged him, panting in between as you lost yourself in the haze of lust. Your thoughts circling between the feel of his dick and your impending nth orgasm.

Ajax laughed as he did as you requested, fucking you through your orgasm as his hands groped your breasts. Fondling them before focusing on its nipples, teasing it with his fingers before pinching. Your body arched just as Ajax came into you again.

Both of you slumped, taking a rest and enjoying the cool afternoon breeze of Mingyun Village.

“Mmmm…I’m feeling hungry” You complained softly as you delicately moved to hug him, ensuring that his dick wouldn’t slip out of your pussy. Your boyfriend was still hard and you had multiple plans to wring him dry.

Ajax, who was no stranger to your levels of horniness, knew this and like the doting boyfriend that he was, fondly looked at you and produced a late lunch for the two of you.

“We’ll have to detach ourselves if you want to eat, love” Ajax reminded you as you made no move to get off of his dick.

Petulantly you replied, “but I’ve missed you and your dick so much!”

Ajax was glad that his mouth was empty or he would have choked on your words, years of exposure to your horniness still hadn’t prepared him for the moments when you would express your fondness for him and his dick.

Of course, this was nothing compared to the time you had taken one look at his Foul Legacy form and proceeded to seduce him. Laying out your pussy for him to pound on.

As if sensing his thoughts, you gave him a sultry smile as you slowly moved to straddle his hips.

“I thought you were hungry?” He asked, as his hands rested on your hips and he drank the sight of your body being covered with his fluids. Your tits were still hanging out, and the front of your clothes were stained with his dried cum.

You were a delectable mess.

“Maybe I want to eat you and the lunch you prepared,” You retorted as you rolled your hips, making him moan and move at the same time.

“Fuck!” Ajax cursed as he felt your pussy tighten and made the quick decision to roll you over, your gasp turned into a moan as he began fucking you again.

Bending your body in half, pounding you as his cum dribbled out of your pussy with each thrust he made. You moaned wantonly, tits jiggling as he thrusted and then changing your position once more, your legs were now gripping his waist as Ajax fiercely and passionately kissed you.

His tongue playing with yours, swallowing your moans and bringing you to new heights of pleasure with his expertise and knowledge on the plains of your body. You cried out his name, echoing in the empty air of Mingyun Village’s desolate area.

By the time both of you were truly spent, night had already fallen and the pools of cum that stained the grass in front of Rex Lapis’ statue would take time to disappear. Not that either of you cared, as Ajax was more concerned in taking care of your needs after the marathon sex the two of you had just done.

“Do you think Rex Lapis would take what we said seriously?” You asked him as you lovingly cuddled in between his legs, finding comfort in the warmth of his body as the two of you camped for the night.

“I doubt it,” Ajax replied absently before sending you a dark look, “You better not be thinking of inviting him to join us for sex.”

You laughed at him, mirth in your eyes as you replied, “I wouldn’t, my dear, I’m very happy with keeping you for myself.”

And it was the truth, you wouldn’t never deny the truth that Ajax’s possessive and obsessive nature that only appeared around you brought you pleasure. A wonderful privilege of never having to move your own hands to get rid of people you found annoying. And Ajax loved you even more for it, the knowledge that you would never be disgusted of his stained hands brought him peace.

“Good. That just means I have less of a reason to take his gnosis when the time comes.”

In some part of Liyue Harbor, Zhongli, the esteemed funeral consultant of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor was furiously stroking his dick as the images of your sacrilegious acts with Childe on his statue replayed in his mind. He wouldn’t deny Childe’s claims on your pussy as it was indeed good and Zhongli knew that fucking you with Childe would be one of life’s pleasures he would never forget.

The sound of your pussy squelching and the image of Childe’s sultry looked as he fucked you only made Zhongli’s dick harder. His strokes became faster and tried to imagine the sounds you would make if both him and Childe fucked you senseless.

‘Perhaps...one more contract could be made.’ Zhongli thought in his lust-addled brain, his cock already spurting out thick cum. Seeing it he smiled at the thought that you would probably enjoy his cum as well.

#childe x reader #zhongli x childe x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact x reader #tartaglia x reader

339 notes · View notes

jams-sims · 2 years

Text

Theres so much I wanna say about the new ep-

Because- here the deallo- Stolas and Blitzo did this to themselves but that doesn't mean they don't deserve to be happy and in love.

Stolas cheating on his wife is a shit move- no matter how you look at it. Sure it clear there wasn't any love but its about the respect. On top of that lets not forget the child that in the middle of this shit show. With a mother who is unhinged and a father going through it. Neglected on both ends but Octavia is a daddy girl. When they actually talk he explained how this (him and Blitz) would never mess with his love for his daughter. Just make the living situation really fucky. (Still not good- Blitz wants to be a dad anyway so if they got their shit together guess who would have a sister!!)

BUT before you try and murder me- Stolas growing wanting and actual relationship with Blitz is fine. He can want that he gotta fix his home life first but it flawed but it not wrong. Their relationship is a mess and it did start off as just sex. Now this prince is forced to fight for something. But idk if he strong enough to do it. Because Stolas has always given off the shelter rich kid vibes. Everything was planned out for me vibes. That when it time to be in a real relationship to connect without it being arranged or just having sex.

He fucking fumbling- he doesn't know what hes doing. He needs this relationship to work because this is the first thing hes ever wanted for himself. No one else did this, no one else had a hand in it. This is him exploring his sexual desires and wants. But he also hold a lot of power that he either willingly ignores or is naive of when it comes to socal standing with Blitz and himself.

All the way on the opposite end Blitz and his self destructive way. Has had many relationship and life just beat the shit out of him. While also being on the lower end of the social ladder.

He starts a relationship out his own ass to gain power. And catches feeling but because he lives on negativity. His own brain is telling him-

"This relationship you want with this guy is never gonna fucking happen. Hes a fucking prince and you are what? A nobody? You think hes gonna give up his lavish lifestyle to be broke and with you??!! Fuck no!"

Because on all account Blitz has fired bombed all his relationships. Its always Blitz fault his toxic behavior catches him he lashes out and he hurts people who really care about him.

Slutty marinette loved Blitz enough to get his named fucking tattoo on her body. What did he do? Steal her car, spend her money and fucked her over. He hurt her! Their relationship exploded because she couldn't understand why he would do what he did. Blitz sure as fuck couldn't understand her. Leading to this resentment.

Because of the past Blitz lashes out and pushes people away. Which makes it hard to feel bad for him. But that doesn't mean his fear and feeling aren't vaild.

When Stolas looks away from Blitz when they were both being exposed. It confirmed in Blitz mind that he was an embarrassment that this- even if it was a fake date at first-

(Because for a split second they were going to make a connection. When Stolas decided to ask Blitz about his work. Blitz fucking turned to Stolas he fucking ignored the M and Ms. For a second they were about to have a real fucking conversation without the sex and it all came crashing down around them.)

This is it this is the big part people are missing. Them wanting a relationship is going to be a lot of fucking work. THEY CAN HAVE IT! IT IS POSSIBLE AND IT NOT WRONG NO ONE IS MORE WRONG THAN THE OTHER. THEY BOTH FUCKED UP RULY BUT BUT

The M and Ms did something that highlighted the biggest problem between the two are-

They care too much about what others will say and do when they are together. They both needed to stand up for their relationship. If your relationships is fucked up don't try and hide it. Own it.

When Fiz cracks to many jokes you know what Millie does she hops her ass on stage and knocks that bitch out. No one talks about her husband like that.

When it time for Moxie to step up for Millie he is always there for her.

Blitz and Stolas when confront they curl into themselves. They look away they indirectly hurt eachother. Stolas tries his best to fix it, because hes a little more in tune with what he truly feels. But it falls flat because of the way they started the relationship.

But Blitz gotta reach too, he has to be the Millie to Stolas Moxie.

#helluva boss #helluva blitzo #helluva stolas #stoliz

65 notes · View notes

sanzoumon · 3 years

Text

70 RICKORTY PROMPTS pt 3!

Here we go again! Same things apply, warnings at the start of the prompts. Everything is bottom!Morty unless otherwise stated. Also some prompts are gen.

70, guys. 70! And here I thought I was out of ideas. Anyway you can tell the moments when I was super horny while coming up with ideas. Some of these prompts get detailed and long but as always feel free to play around with the ideas.

Also with some of these I had no idea where I was going with them so pfft.

MPreg. Post-Promortyus. Those parasites reflected their own feelings. Morty asks Rick about it, what they did and said. Long story short, after some pressing, Rick admits everything that parasite said was true, he loves Morty and wants to have a baby with him. Morty finds the idea appealing, to be honest. He thinks about being pregnant with Rick’s baby and loves it.

Angst. As they get older Rick starts becoming forgetful and develops dementia. Morty is with him through it all and Rick can feel his own brilliant mind fading away, it scares him. They still have sex but as time goes on Rick gets less and less lucid. Eventually Rick dies in his sleep one night.

Non-con. Thriller. On the Citadel. There’s a serial rapist and killer loose on the Citadel. He targets Morty’s. The Morty’s disappear for 3 days and turn up dead on the forth. The police know the culprit is a Rick, given the DNA left behind, but DNA doesn’t vary much between dimensions so it doesn’t help much. They call in a specialist, a Rick who understands people and specializes in Profiling. The culprit redressed the bodies, showing them reverence, he loves these Morty’s. Things become complicated when Profiler Rick’s Morty gets abducted. ((Criminal Minds inspired))

Hebephilia. This Rick is a straight up Hebephile and has tried to reject that part of him his whole life. Morty happens to be right in his strike zone. He even left his own Beth when she was 13, fearing he might go after her. He thought these urges would mellow out in his old age but being around Morty is a challenge. And now Morty is confessing he’s in love with Rick and that he’s attracted to older people. After resisting his whole life Rick finally gives in and feels like a piece of shit for it.

Prison. Dub-con. Rick and Morty get arrested and everyone wants Morty’s ass to make him his bitch. Rick isn’t about to let that happen, fighting off anyone who tries to lay a hand on Morty. But every time Rick leaves him alone someone tries something. So Rick does the only thing he can, after beating Morty’s assailant to a pulp, he takes Morty in front of other prisoners to show who he belongs to. Morty is freaked out but damn Rick is giving him pleasure he never knew existed. Everyone backs off Morty but he wants Rick to fuck him again and again.

Omegaverse. Everyone knew that Alpha’s were supposed to care for their Omega in exchange for the Omega’s submission. Rick doesn’t do the whole caring thing but due to the proximity they have Morty recognizes Rick as his Alpha and he wants to be cared for. Eventually Morty breaks down. This triggers Rick’s Alpha nature and he gives Morty all the affection he’s been craving. Rick fucks him slowly, gently, in a comforting way, to help calm him. Tells him how good he is, etc. Finally he knots Morty and Morty feels like he’s whole again.

Angst. Rick and Morty are goofing around, just having a good time. They end up with their faces close together and Rick kisses Morty. Morty doesn’t react well. Will he come around?

Morty is desperate to be with Rick. He just wants Rick to stay with him and he’ll let Rick do anything to him. Abuse him. Fuck him. Anything.

Anything based on the song “Pretty When You Cry” by VAST.

Morty has a kink for seeing Rick cry.

Morty likes the feel of Rick’s wrinkly and saggy skin. Sometimes he just messes with it because it feels nice.

Age Problems. For all his sexual prowess, Rick is still an old man and sometimes it’s hard for him to get it up. And it’s really humiliating and frustrating because he is horny and his dick just isn’t reacting. Morty doesn’t mind that much, it happens. Besides, Rick is still damn good with his hands.

Electro Play. Rick hooks up Morty to all sorts of sex toys. They all send electric shocks to his dick and asshole. Rick also uses a wand to shock Morty on his thighs. He also won’t let Morty cum. Eventually he fucks Morty while still shocking his dick.

Rick sends Morty to school with a vibrator in his ass. Throughout the day he turns the device on to make Morty squirm. By the time lunch period comes, Morty can’t stand it anymore. He finds Rick waiting in a bathroom stall, dick hard and waiting for Morty, looking smug. Morty practically jumps on Rick’s lap and Rick takes the vibrator out. Morty rides him and moans so loud it’s a wonder the whole school doesn’t hear.

Public Sex. They have a very specific kink for fucking in portable toilets, like you see in construction sites or during fairs. It’s so unsanitary and smells disgusting and anyone could hear them but that’s what makes it hot.

Feminization Kink. Morty has a kink for beating treated like a woman. Not crossdressing tho. He likes it when Rick calls him a bitch, his wife, princess, his ‘pretty little girl’, calling his asshole a pussy or other such things, calling his dick a clit, talking about knocking him up. Things like that. Morty likes holding his legs open, begging Rick to fuck his pussy.

Morty is a straight up slutty little cock whore for Rick’s cock. Loves riding it. Loves being plowed by it. If Morty has it his way he’d just live life with Rick’s cock in his ass.

Exhibitionism. Degradation. Rick takes Morty to a special club where public sex happens on a stage. Surrounded by a bunch of Rick’s they all hoot and holler, calling him a slut, a whore, offering his Rick money so they can fuck him, etc. Morty never cums so hard in his life.

On the Citadel. A Rick books a private lapdance with a Morty at the Creepy Morty. Like most strip clubs there’s a “look, don’t touch” rule. But for a bit of extra cash many of them will let you do more than just look. And Rick is so desperate for the sexy little Morty gyrating on his lap.

Mind Break. Rick fucks Morty hard and rough for so long that Morty can’t live without being fucked by Rick anymore. He just wants Rick to take care of him, feed him, bathe him, then fuck him like a cheap whore. Being a living sex doll for Rick is the best thing that ever happened to him.

Miami Rick x Miami Morty. Sometimes Rick’s enemies put their hands on Morty. Morty almost pities them. Almost. Rick practically runs the underworld in Miami and everyone knows Morty belongs to him. Sometimes Rick needs to remind everyone that he’s an amoral old bastard who fucks his grandson so good that the kid begs for it.

Miami Rick x Miami Morty. Branding. Morty isn’t blind, he knows his grandfather is a criminal and knows people will target him to get to Rick. Morty also notices that Rick brands the shit that belongs to him and that no one touches it. Morty asks Rick to brand him so he’ll be safe, that people will know they’ll have to cross Rick Sanchez if they touch him. After getting the brand his ass hurts so much but he’s so turned on by the knowledge that Rick owns him now. He begs Rick to fuck him. And who is Rick to deny his cute grandson?

Set during Close Rickounters. They’re filthy, tired, and stranded. Rick is aggravated with Zeep, who keeps riling Rick up. Being in close proximity to each other for months makes it awkward sometimes. Like when Morty gets turned on seeing Rick in just his tank top, violently attempting to craft something like a mad man. He looks absolutely feral and Morty can’t help but moan at the thought of Rick fucking him like that. Rick notices, of course, and he’s in such a frenzied state that he doesn’t think twice about using Morty as an outlet for his frustration. He fucks him raw, with little prep, scratches, bites, pulls his hair, spanks him, slaps his face, taunts him, even spits on him, utterly degrading Morty and treating him like a sex toy. And Rick looks, smells, and feels so gross and dirty that it drives Morty insane. He can’t believe it’s happening, that Rick didn’t even care to ask Morty if he wanted this or not (Morty does want it tho). To just be taken and used as a stress outlet? It’s the best.

ABO Kink. They’re not from an ABO dimension but they both sure as hell find it hot. Basically they’re normal but know of ABO dimensions so Rick roleplays as an Alpha and Morty an Omega.

Rick x Morticia. Breast Play. Morti has surprisingly large breasts under her baggy t-shirt. Something happens to their clothes on an adventure and Rick gets an eye full of what Morti’s been hiding. She’s ashamed and embarrassed by them. Rick doesn’t see why, she’s beautiful. Morti stares at him and he realizes he said that out loud. Morti moves her arms from her chest and, very shyly, shows Rick everything. Rick realizes this is an invitation to touch and he takes it. He has her moaning like a whore in seconds. The next morning Morti comes down stairs wearing a v-neck top, showing off a little cleavage. The family is surprised because Morti was always so ashamed before. Morti just says she got a little confidence recently and gives Rick a knowing look. Rick decides he’s definitely going to fuck her boobs later today.

Rick x Morticia. Pregnancy Kink. Rick wants to get his 14 year old granddaughter pregnant. Wants to see her waddle around, have her breasts swell up, and wants to see her walk around knowing that’s his child in her belly. He wants to keep her knocked up all the time, keep her locked up at home, barefoot and pregnant, taking care of all their kids. Putting in another baby as soon as the current one pops out. He wants to make her his little breeding slave. He wouldn’t, of course, one kid is already too much for them but it’s still hot to think about.

Cheating. Cuckolding. Morty goes out of his way to fuck other guys just to make Rick jealous. Rick comes home to find some guy plowing him and Rick goes ballistic. He never hurts the other guys, just violently tosses them out. Then he holds Morty down and fucks him to remind him that he belongs to Rick. And that’s what Morty is really after. He wants Rick to be possessive, to fear losing him. NOTE: This isn’t a cuckolding kink, Rick isn’t into being cucked.

Rick x Morty + Summer. Morty wants Summer to watch Rick fuck him and to make humiliating / degrading comments about him during it. She’s getting paid for it but she’d be lying if she said her panties didn’t get soaked during it. Seeing her baby brother get plowed by a huge cock belonging to their grandfather was pretty hot, especially when Morty started moaning like a slut. She starts grinding into the chair she’s sitting on and cums from it. Morty doesn’t notice but Rick does, even tho he didn’t say anything.

Gun Play. It’s an Earth gun, pretty archaic by Rick’s standards. But Morty wants him to fuck him at gun point with a loaded standard 9mm. Even gives the gun a blowjob. Morty’s such a little freak.

Casual Possessiveness. When they go out, adventure or not, Rick puts his hand on the back of Morty’s neck. A hand on his waist. Hand on his shoulder, pressed against Rick’s side. Morty loves the feeling of protection and Rick loves protecting his little Morty.

Slow dancing. Rick and Morty are at a party, dancing and having a good time, then the music slows down and people couple up. Morty laughs it off and turns to leave, but Rick offers his hand to him instead - an offer to keep dancing. Rick ends up being a pretty good dancer and Morty finds himself mesmerized by Rick in this moment.

Hurt/Comfort. Spooning. Rick has a nightmare and wanders into Morty’s room. He lays down next to him, with his back facing Morty. Morty notices and hears faint crying coming from Rick. Morty pulls Rick into a hug, snuggling against his back. They stay like that for a little while until Rick calms down. Rick gets up to leave but Morty asks him to stay. This time Rick lays down facing Morty and they just sorta hold each other.

In Mortyberg. Most of the Morty’s there are Rickless but a few still have them. As C-137 Rick and Morty watch the few Rick’s left find their Morty’s, clinging desperatly to them, happy to be reunited - they see one pair kiss passionately. The couple gets odd stares. The Rick picks up his Morty and the kiss even deeper. C-137 Rick and Morty feel awkward about watching it and notice a few other Rick’s and Morty’s are giving them sneers. But Morty thinks they seem happy together, he’s a little jealous. He grabs Rick’s hand and just holds it, smiling up at him.

In this dimension, Rick has been around Morty’s whole life. They’re very close to each other. As a small child Morty always wanted his grandpa to pick him up and hold him. Morty’s 14 now and that really hasn’t changed.

Rick goes full on Grandpapa Wolf when Morty is in danger. He cries out “NO! MY BABY!” when Morty gets hurt.

On the Citadel. A story about Citadel cops who respond to Domestic Violence calls. Most times it’s Rick’s abusing Morty’s, sometimes Rick’s abusing Rick’s, Morty’s abusing Morty’s, and on rare occasions it’s Morty’s abusing Rick’s.

Mental Age Regression. Past Child Abuse. Rick suffers a blow to the head and passes out. When he wakes up he doesn’t remember anything from after he was 10 years old. It’s weird for all of them and Morty falls into the roll of primary caretaker. Rick gets into a bit of trouble when he accidentally breaks something of Morty’s. Morty yells at him and only stops when Rick is cowering on the floor, begging Morty not to hit him, then Rick starts mumbling “I’m sorry daddy please don’t hit me I didn’t mean it”. Morty gets down next to him and holds him, apologizing.

Past Non-con. Past Child Abuse. Still having Rick’s memories on hand, Morty decides to watch more. He sees all the pain Rick has gone through, his father raping and abusing him, his mother knowing and ignoring it, bullying in school, countless instances of Rick being sexually assaulted throughout his whole life. Even some up until right before he came to live with the Smith family. He sees a memory he can’t recall where Rick took Morty’s place when some aliens intended to rape him (Rick must have erased it from Morty’s memories). Morty comes too and sees Rick ripped the device away. Morty was crying and the tears wouldn’t stop. It’s Rick who comforts him, holding him, telling him it was all in the past and that it’s okay now.

Non-Con. Time Travel. Morty travels back in time to when Rick was his age. They bond pretty quickly, spending all day together. At the end of the day Morty realizes he has nowhere to go so Rick invites him to stay the night. In middle of the night, Morty finds Rick isn’t in bed and goes looking for him. What he finds is noises coming from behind a cracked door. He peeks inside and sees Rick and Rick’s father, Rick is crying and his father is plowing into him. Morty makes a noise and next thing he knows he’s dragged into the room too. Rick begs his dad to leave Morty alone. Instead, Rick’s dad tells Morty to sit there and see what Rick is really like, then decide if he wants a friend like him afterward. He shoves Rick on top of Morty and starts fucking him again, Rick is crying, apologizing. Rick starts to unravel, begging for more. Rick’s father leaves the room once he’s done. Morty cleans Rick up and takes him back to bed. Rick begs Morty not to leave so Morty stays in bed with him, just holding him, and Rick kisses him on the mouth before going to sleep. In the morning he gets woken up by his Rick. Morty wants to wake up young Rick but Rick stops him, shaking his head ‘no’. So they leave. Before Morty can ask Rick tells him that when he woke up that morning he cried like a bitch when he saw Morty was gone. He tells Morty everything about his father, that it never stopped until his father died. That even today that man still haunts his nightmares. This time Morty kisses Rick, letting Rick hold onto him like a lifeline. Rick apologizes that Morty has to see all that but it was always going to happen.

Spanking. On the Citadel. It’s not uncommon to see Rick’s punishing their Morty’s by spanking them in public. Guard Rick’s punishing Guard Morty’s. Teacher Rick’s punishing Student Morty’s. Rick’s just going about the Citadel, their Morty’s being little brats, stopping to bend them over and whip their behinds. Some Rick’s pay good money to spank Morty’s. Some Morty’s pay good money to get spanked by Rick’s.

Rick falls in love with Morty the very first moment he sees him, when Morty was a newborn. Throughout the years and their adventures, those feelings changed into something more romantic and sexual. It makes Rick feel sick. He doesn’t want to hurt his precious grandson but he keeps pushing the envelope with the boy to get more of his love and affection. He even asked Morty to kiss him! On the lips! He hates himself more when Morty kisses him on the lips.

Pet Names. Getting Caught. Rick has a lot of pet names for Morty: babe, baby, honey, sweetie, sweetheart, affection insults (bitch, lil shit, etc.). But Morty’s favorite is when Rick calls him “my love”. It rarely happens because it’s not one of those pet names you could mistake for familial at all. Sadly Rick uses it during dinner with the family one night without thinking about it. Everyone did a double take and then the interrogations started.

In a dimension where Rick isn’t a scientist, he’s a criminal. Thief, murderer, arsonist, a lot of bad shit. 4 years ago kidnapping got added to his list of crimes. He tracked down only daughter and abducted his 10 year old grandson, Morty, wounding his pre-teen granddaughter (who was babysitting) at the time. They haven’t been seen or heard from since... until today. A high speed chase, a shootout, Rick being shot, bleeding out, Morty crying, rushing to him, holding him, trying to stop the bleeding, kissing Rick, telling him he’ll love him forever, Rick dying. It was all televised on the news. Beth gets her son back but does she really? Just what exactly did Rick do to the boy in 4 years?

Vore. Microphilia. Morty gets shrunk down, clothes not included. Rick messes with him by putting him in his mouth. Then he tastes something weird in there and feels something strange. Morty is grinding against Rick’s tongue and came from it. Rick’s into it.

Paternal Instincts. Caretaking. Morty wets himself during an adventure. Once they get safely home he collapses and starts bawling like a baby, his pants still wet. At first Rick tells him to stop being a pussy but that makes Morty cry harder. It triggers something in Rick and suddenly his long buried paternal instincts gutpunch him. He scoops Morty up, holds him against his chest and says “now, now, grandpa’s here, baby” and tells Morty he’ll take care of him. He takes Morty to the bathroom, undresses him, and wipes him down with a warm washcloth. He then helps Morty into his pajamas and picks him up again, asking if he felt any better and if he wants to take a nap with grandpa. Morty feels like he can’t speak so he just nods yes to both.

Taking it Slow. Making Love. Rick is really DTF-y (Down To Fuck) pretty much all the time. When he and Morty start their relationship tho, Rick tells him he’s not ready to have sex yet. Morty thinks it’s just Rick having hang ups over the whole grandson thing but no, Rick doesn’t care about that. His age then? Morty starts thinking Rick just isn’t attracted to him so Rick finally tells him he’s plenty attracted. He just wants to take it slow, not because of Morty but for himself. Morty finds out that Rick was the same with Diane, even when she was DTF. Morty thinks it’s kinda sweet so he stops pestering Rick. They date, cuddle, make out, sometimes do hand stuff. After about 6 months of dating, Rick takes him to a fancy dinner then a hotel, telling Morty he’s ready. Then he makes sweet tender love to Morty and Morty finally gets what people mean when they say “good things come to those who wait”.

Necrophilia. Character Death. Angst. Morty dies because of Rick. Rick doesn’t take it well at all. He digs up Morty’s body in the dead of night, tries to go full Viktor Frankenstein and bring him back. But nothing works. He knows it’s just an empty shell, but he can’t stop himself from caressing his body, kissing his lips, undressing him, and thrusting into him. It’s cold, there’s not an ounce of warmth left in Morty’s tiny little body. He keeps the body longer than he should after that. It’s not long before he’s found out.

Past Non-Con. Public Restroom Sex. Healing Sex. After the Mr Jellybean incident, Morty is terrified of public restrooms. Rick makes it better by giving Morty a good time in a restroom, reassuring Morty that he can put a stop to this any time. Not that Morty wants to stop. Rick comforts and praises him the whole time.

Guard Rick x Morty. The Morty of a Guard Rick loves the way Rick looks in his uniform.

Pony Rick x Pony Morty. The good thing about Equestria was that they didn’t think twice about PDA. A stallion nuzzling his grandcolt wasn’t that odd. Behind closed doors he was nailing his grandcolt’s plot pretty much every night. Rick thinks he should be careful, at this rate Morty’s cutie mark will end up being a picture of Rick’s cock.

Primitivism. In a dimension where modern tech doesn’t exist, there’s various tribes that exist. Morty’s mother Beth leads their tribe after her father stepped down. When Morty’s 14th birthday arrives, the battle for his hand in marriage begins. Being the second child (with Summer being Beth’s heir) that means Morty will leave and marry into the tribe of the victor. It’s an open contest, anyone can enter. No one ever expected Rick to enter and dominate the competition. Beth has no choice but to declare him the winner. As per tradition they must now consummate their union. Morty is afraid, but Rick makes it good for him. Afterward Morty asks why Rick did it. Rick tells him it’s because Morty always belong to him, he just made it official.

Non-con. On the Citadel. There’s a serial rapist going around targeting Rickless Morty’s. Detective Rick is determined to catch the Rick responsible, his Morty was a victim of the rapist and killed himself over it. Problem is the culprit looks like a plain normal Rick. One Morty was different from the rest, most skittered away to avoid Rick’s and the Cop Morty’s has to tend to them. This Morty however clung to Rick like a lifeline. Rick’s gut told him this Morty knew more than he was letting on.

After the events of S5, Rick decides it’s time to make a change. He’s tired, old, he wants to settle down. To do that he needs to sober up. No more alcohol, no more drugs. It isn’t easy going cold turkey, it’s painful, he’s going through all sorts of widthdrawl. But sweet little Morty is there to help him through all of it, cleaning up his vomit, keeping his temperature down, keeping Rick away from anything that would help him get any sort of fix, soothing him, even feeding Rick when he’s too exhausted to feed himself. It hurts, but Morty is worth it.

In this dimension Rick isn’t the smartest man alive. He’s just a loving father and grandfather who moved in with his daughter to be closer to his grandchildren. Morty loves his grandpa so much and they spend so much time together. Ever since Morty was a child he liked to sit on grandpas lap and cuddle up to him. This hasn’t changed now that he’s a teenager. Behind closed doors the two are much closer than anyone would ever suspect.

Set during that whole ride scene during The Vindicators. Rick’s drunken video confession ends up being a love confession and marriage proposal to Morty. Morty evaluates his feelings for Rick on the ride back. When Rick asks him what happened, Morty just smiles and says “yes”. He knows Rick doesn’t remember but he’s the smartest man in the universe, he’ll figure it out... eventually. BONUS: Million Ants comments that he senses a great deal of love and affection all of a sudden.

Summer POV. She sees the way they act, how they look at each other. How devoted they are to one another. They’re hopelessly in love and neither wants to admit it for the obvious reasons. In this infinitely cruel multiverse she doesn’t understand their hangups and why they’d deny themselves this shred of happiness. She wants them both to be happy, she really does. The day it finally happens she’s happy enough to cry.

Beth finds out about Rick and Morty. Instead of lashing out over the wrongness of it she turns on Morty, accusing him of stealing her dad away, calling him a slut, asking what was so special about him. Rick is stunned. Summer and Jerry run to them, Summer instantly getting between Morty and their mother, holding him close while he sobs into her chest. Jerry tried to pacify Beth, leading her away. Of all things Rick never expected Beth to accuse her own child of being to blame here. He was the adult, she should be angry with him. He leaves Morty with Summer, he needs to have a serious discussion with Beth about everything. NOTE: Beth is infatuated with Rick and is jealous of Morty. Rick has no such feelings for Beth and is in love with Morty.

In this dimension, Morty’s parents and sister died when he was six. Jerry’s parents had already passed so Morty has no one left to be his guardian except Rick. So Rick moves into the Smith household so he won’t have the uproot Morty’s life. Their relationship dynamic turns out quite different from other Rick’s and Morty’s because of it. For example, Rick is haggling over a deal in space, he’s being mean and aggressive about it. Then Morty wanders in just when Rick is about to get violent. Rick here’s Morty say “grandpa?” in a sweet little voice, not understanding what’s going on. Rick’s attitude does a 180, going into doting grandpa mode, saying “hi, sweetie, grandpa and his friend are almost done talking so go wait in the car, sweetheart”. As soon as Morty’s gone he reverts back to being violent. Basically, Rick only shows his doting grandpa side in front of Morty, he doesn’t want Morty to see his hyper aggressive side.

Evil Rick x Evil Morty. Possessive Protectivness. Morty hates Rick, but there was one good thing about him. Come hell or highwater, Rick wouldn’t let others hurt Morty. It becomes easy for Morty to manipulate Rick into getting rid of problems this way. All Morty has to do is tell him someone tried to hurt him and Rick will kill them no questions asked.

Past Non-Con & Child Abuse. During the S5 finale, Morty asks Evil Morty just what the hell his Rick did to him to make him hate Rick’s so much. Evil Morty lashes out, tells Morty he won’t just tell him - no, if he loves Rick so much then he needs to experience the pain himself. EM jabs Morty with another memory device and Morty doesn’t just see the memories, he experiences them, feels them. All the rape, abuse, death, torture, the fear. He vomits when he comes back to reality. His Rick looks concerned, but Morty is shaking like a leaf staring at him. Morty can’t see his Rick without seeing Evil Rick. Evil Morty asks him if he understands now why he hates all Rick’s. What happens next?

Big Bad Wolf Rick x Little Red Riding Hood Morty. Dub-con. Morty’s mother tells him to go deliver some food to his Grandpa Rick’s workshop, but not to stray from the path because ‘Wolves’ (which is code for ‘those creepy pedos who hang out in the woods and need to bang kids to return to human’) will get him. Along the way a Wolf tries to lure him off the trail. Morty doesn’t fall for it. Eventually he reaches his Grandpa’s workshop. Something is off about his Grandpa’s voice. And ears. And teeth. And eyes. Also all that body hair. Yeah, Morty can see where this is going. The Wolf reveals that he’s actually Morty’s Grandpa Rick, throws him on the bed, telling Morty he’s going to ‘eat’ him. Okay Morty didn’t expect him to actually be his Grandpa so he’s nervous now. But wait, if Rick fucks him then he’ll go back to normal, right? He can do that for his beloved Grandpa, he has to.

Pet Names. Morty calls Rick by pet names too. What really gets Rick going is when Morty calls him “stud”.

Bottom!Rick. When Rick gets really emotional while drunk, he wants to bottom. He wants to be loved, filled, comforted, praised. He cries throughout the whole thing, but Morty knows it’s just because he’s feeling vulnerable. Morty likes to take care of Rick when he’s like this.

Bottom!Rick. It’s their first time and Morty is a nervous wreck. Rick takes the lead in a different way, riding Morty cowgirl style. To be honest, Morty is pretty small and Rick is pretty loose down there so it’s physically not as great as Rick would like but it feels nice and Morty sure as hell enjoyed it. Didn’t exactly last very long.

Orgasm Control Training. Morty can’t control his damn dick so Rick decides to train him to hold back his orgasms. Cock cages, chastity belts, cock rings, nothing seems effective so he trains Morty’s body to need prostate orgasms instead. Which is to say now Morty can’t cum without having his prostate stimulated and he can’t do that without Rick’s fingers or his dick. He knows. He’s tried toys and they can’t get the job done.

Prostate Orgasm. Rick’s robot arm has a vibrate function. He loves unraveling Morty by hitting his prostate with his fingers and turning on the vibration. He can tease Morty for hours this way, denying him release when he’s so close. He never lets Morty touch his dick anymore. If Morty wants to get off he needs to beg Rick to abuse his prostate.

Size Difference Kink. Stomach Buldge. Rick is like 6’4-6” tall while Morty is only like 5’2”. Their dicks have the same proportionate size difference. Rick’s is huge while Morty’s is smaller than average. When Rick fucks him you can actually see the buldge of Rick’s cock in Morty’s guts. Rick loves how tiny and hot Morty is, loves his tiny little dick, his tight ass, his little mouth. He hopes Morty doesn’t grow much more because he doesn’t wanna lose his cute little Morty.

Hand Holding. Rick’s taken up the habit of holding Morty’s hand like he’s a child everywhere they go.

Rick contemplated moving into a younger body to spend more years with Morty. When he brings this up Morty isn’t keen on the idea. Turns out Morty isn’t really attracted to Rick’s younger selves, he fell in love with Rick as an old man and that’s just how he likes him. Sure if it’ll help Rick stick around longer he gets it but does he have to go too much younger? Like Morty could be okay with a 50 or 60 year old Rick. Rick decides to stick with his current body for a while longer.

Yandere Rick. Non-con. Captivity. Traditional Wife Kink. Rick won’t allow anyone to even lay eyes on his precious Morty. He takes him off world, on an isolated planet, keeps him locked up in a cozy little home just for the two of them. Rick gave up on most of his adventures, only leaving for short periods of time. Morty is expected to keep the house clean, make dinner, do all the chores, and most importantly take care of his husbands sexual needs. Morty is terrified but, so long as he doesn’t fuck up any of his wifely duties, Rick is gentle with him. If he burns dinner, forgets his chores, anything — Rick punishes him, he sees it as Morty not wanting to be with him. It doesn’t make any sense to Morty and he knows this is going to be his life until Rick dies. What Morty truly hates is that he looks forward to Rick fucking him each night. In those moments he’s able to lay back and let Rick do all the work, Rick wants him to feel good during it after all. It’s also the only time Morty gets leeway on his chores because Rick gets cuddly after sex. When Morty gets sick he tells him he won’t have to do any work today too. Morty doesn’t want this at all but he finds these peaceful moments.

#rick and morty #rickorty #c 137cest #rickmorty #prompts

91 notes · View notes

kpop-dungeon-dark · 3 years

Text

REQUEST (Nerd!Felix/Yongbok x You)

•TRIGGER WARNING•

Warning(s): Non-Con, humiliation, degradation, brat taming, watersports, breath play, rough filthy shit. Read at own risk.

"If that isn't our little Yongbokkieeee~" Felix sighed and shut his eyes tightly when he heard the familiar dreadful voice from behind, holding the straps of his school bag even tighter. "Aigoooi~ aren't you in a hurry, foreign booooy?" Her perfectly manicured hand placed on the boy's shoulder, pulling him back.

"Let go, Y/n-ah…" The boy spoke, trying his best not to snap at the little slut. She was so foolish. A fucking clown. A narrow minded little racist bitch. That's what.

"Ahhhh… your Korean is soooo adorable…" Before she moved to stand in front of him, heavy tits tightly packed in her school shirt, the first few buttons up. "What's the rush, Aussie boy? Too proud to make friends? Tsk, tsk!" Felix felt like smacking her infuriatingly cute little face.

"You know it's not like tha-"

"LISTEN UP, EVERYONE!" Y/n clapped and got everyone's attention, the whole hallway of students going home stopping to look at her. "OUR FOREIGN BOY DOESN'T WANNA BE FRIENDS~" she pouted as if it really hurt her. "HE AVOIDED ME ALL DAY IN SCHOOL TOO! HOW PROUD, TSK!" Everyone booed him, calling him names and whatnot. It was terrible.

Had he known moving to Korea was going to be like this he'd have never agreed. They made fun of his looks, his accent, the grammatical errors he made and his English name that he preferred. Even though Felix was using his English name in his documents now that he was all grown up, Y/n had somehow learnt his Korean one and she wasn't going to let him live it down.

"Aigo what a loser" splashing the juice in her hand at his shirt, the girl clicked her tongue and walked away while laughing, leaving the boy in absolute despair due to how badly it stained his shirt.

He didn't want to hurt her because she was clearly fucking naive and dumb but fuck. Y/n was making it fucking hard.

Felix checked his room one last time to make sure it was clean and smelt nice with just the right amount of ventilation. Setting his books up on the foldable desks he'd set up on the bed, the boy opened up the other desk too. His mom had asked him if he could teach her bestfriend's child some English as they were apparently in the same year as him. The boy was happy to help and agreed so now his mom's friend was going to drop the kid off at their house that he didn't know anything about.

And who else could it be other than the one and only. How fucking cliche.

The male was unsure of how to act when he heard his mom's voice and another women's before his door was knocked, opening as Mrs. Lee along a stern looking tall and built women in a police uniform appeared.

Felix got up and respectfully bowed to the women as she greeted him back, her friendly smile really unusual for her stern features. "Hello, dear. Thank you so much for your kind gesture. I've been looking for a good teacher for quite some time now but my child is… slow." She chuckled. "Maybe it'd be easier for her if someone her age teaches her…"

"Oh, of course. No problem at all. I'd be actually very happy to help. That way I get to revise too and study from a different perspective, ma'am." He didn't know why, but he couldn't stop the smirk from appearing on his face. Oh. She was trying her best to hide behind her mother but Felix had seen the pathetic little girl.

Oh how fucking perfect.

"Ah I hope my kid can learn well from you in not just academics but manners too… Now! Y/n-ah- where…" Her mother looked for her before turning around to find her hiding, gripping her wrist and pulling her in front of the taller boy. "There you are. Now… learn well okay? Felix will take well care of you" her mother glanced at the boy and he nodded, bowing a little bit as he said of course.

Y/n was trying not to die as she was made to stand right in front of fucking Yongbok out of all! How was she so stupid?! She should have put two and two together! Oh fuck! This was bad! This was terrible for her image! Now he knew that she was looking for tuition and not all that careless about studies as she seemed to act like back in school. And she also wasn't a badass in her private life.

Fuck.

"Be good. I'll pick you up on my way back, alright?" The girl had non-existent balls to brat with her mother as she was a firm police woman and knew how to get brats going. She had gotten enough harsh punishments from her mom to even dare to try. Y/n did her best to pretend to be a good kid. Or her mom had threatened to send her off to juvi or a boarding school! "Hm?"

The girl whimpered, feeling the boy's gaze burn into her very soul. "Y- Yes, mommy." She could only whisper back, head lowered all the way.

"Good baby. Now give mommy a kiss." Y/n could die of embarrassment right now, her cheeks burning as she felt humiliated. Oh she had no idea what was coming her way. This was nothing. Her mother still treated her like a 4 year old baby and not like she was 18. It was so fucking stupid!

"Y- Yes, mommy…" There was no use hiding. Yongbok could see it all and he was quietly observing it. Standing on her tippy toes because of being much smaller than her mom, Y/n kissed her cheek. "Bye, mommy." The copper ruffled her daughter's head before leaving with Felix's mother who was also dressed for work.

Lowering her head even more when it was just the both of them, Y/n held her bag right as she didn't turn around, not wanting to face the smug boy, whimpering when he stepped forward to close his door.

"She… doesn't know, does she?" Felix's deep voice pierced through her soul as he turned around to look down at her now, grinning wide. "Tsk… look at this cute little turtleneck and long skirt… those baby shoes and these pigtails…" Y/n felt her heart starting to pound when he suddenly tugged at her twin ponytails, her cheeks feeling even hotter in pure humiliation. "If only you were actually a good babygirl like your 'mommy' thinks and not a skimpy little slutty whore ridiculing people for no fucking reason at school" clicking his tongue, the boy walked to his bed and plopped on it in a relaxed manner, well aware that he had her exactly where a bitch like her should be. "I wonder how she will react if she finds out that you are actually-"

"N- NO PLEASE!" Y/n finally found her voice and rushed to him, helplessly pleading. "PLEASE DON'T TELL M- MOMMY! I- I AM SORRY!" She struggled, not knowing what to say. This was so awkward and strange. Something she'd never thought of. Fuck.

"Ahhh so you really are an all talk whore, tsk. Acting all cool and fearless in school but actually a pathetic little mommy's baby." Felix chuckled tauntingly and shook his head, eyes cold. Months. She'd been troubling him for months simply because he was a foreigner and made mistakes in Korean. "Come here, let me see. I wouldn't be surprised if you're also wearing a nappy under that cute skirt. Do you need a change?" He teasingly went to grab her arm which caused the girl to stagger backwards.

"N- No! No, Y- Yon- Felix! I- I swear I am not! I am not wearing a-- p- please! Don't do this! I- I won't bother you again! You don't even have to tutor me! Just please don't tell mom!" Y/n hated how pathetically she had to beg him.

"Ah… so it's suddenly Felix now, huh?" The male chuckled before speaking again. "Since I am not a pathetic slut like you, I won't tell your mom but in exchange, you'll have to be good for me. If you oblige, good. If you don't, I'll have to tell her, little one. Because what you're doing will end up harming someone really bad."

The girl desperately dropped her bag, sitting in his feet and holding his knees. "Y- Yes! Yes! Alright! I'll be good! I'll do whatever you want! Just don't tell mom! I don't wanna go to juvi or boarding-" her eyes widened before she slapped her mouth shut. Oh no! She didn't just tell him that!

Felix threw his head back and laughed. "Ahhh so it's like that, I see…" He was enjoying this. Looking down at her, Felix felt something stir inside him as his eyes got darker. She looked so fucking perfect kneeling under him like this. It was getting so hard to hold back now that he had her. "Fine. If you don't want to go to boarding or juvi, you'll have to be my little fuck piggy. And when I say that, I mean it. You'll be my literal plaything and there will be no denying my orders. You'll have to obey and be good like a brainless little slave doll… You will only know what I allow. You will only do as I say. No using your own brain, not that it is very smart anyway… That is the price." He had always had… dark desires. Which was one of the reasons he'd never dated much. But when Felix had seen Y/n all those months ago in school for the first time, he had unintentionally imagined how it would feel to ruin her to the point of despair before building her back up.

And now that he was so close to having it. Fuck. The boy was going insane.

Y/n nodded slowly, tears forming in her eyes as she bit her lip. "Y- Yes, I… I agree. I- I'll be your d- doll, Felix… J- Just please d- don't tell anyone… I- I beg you… I- I don't wanna g- go to boarding or…" A sob left her, his finger catching her tear amidst of falling down.

This was so wrong. But she deserved it. Felix was absolutely disgusted by bullies.

"Don't worry. Like your mother said, I'll take goood care of you." The naive girl had no idea what she had signed herself up for or just what his words meant. "Then… why don't you prove your worth by getting up and stripping to let me see my belongings... And, get those dirty little hands off. Fuck toys don't deserve to touch Master unless allowed." Felix swatted them off.

"W- What? M- Master…? S- Strip?" Y/n was lost.

"What else did you think? Some Wattpad romance where I make you my little sidekick or something before I confess that I've liked you all along?" Raising an eyebrow he pushed her back. "Get to it."

"B- But F- Felix-!"

"It's Master!" The male firmly spoke as he glared down at her, yanking one of her pigtails. "Come on now… time's running and we don't have all day my little toy. You better start behaving before it's too late…" Her sobs and tears satisfied him so much.

Y/n slowly got up with her head lowered, trembling as she stepped out of her shoes, slowly pulling her socks off. "I- I can't believe I am doing this in front o- of you.." She whispered while struggling to not collapse on her knees, literally shivering under his firm gaze.

"I also couldn't believe a person as rotten as you existed." Before he grabbed the hem of her dress, pulling her closer and snorting when she gasped, flinching when he leaned back again. Felix's foot trailed up her shaking leg, the top of his foot rubbing against her covered core before he grabbed the waistband of her panties with his toes, pulling them down from under the skirt. "Ahh… so little girl's mommy really doesn't put her in nappies, I see…" Before he looked back up at her face, his foot resting on the underwear between her ankles now. "Skirt off now."

The girl was wiping at her tears as she shakily undid the skirt before letting it fall, her heart pounding even harder when the cold air attacked her core before he made her pull her shirt up and off, suddenly ripping her bra off which caused her to scream.

"Tsk… you sure are jumpy and scaredy for how tough you act." The boy shook his head, feeding off her misery. "Pick that underwear up." Y/n reached for it when he finally removed his foot from the top of it, stepping out of it and picking it up, even her ears red now out of humiliation. "Put it on your head." Another sob left her as he pinched and played with her breast, loving the authority he had over her.

"Fe- M- Master…" Shaking her head, she tried to back away but Felix wasn't having it.

"What did I just fucking say?!" He snapped, towering over her when the boy stood up, making her cower down before she put the smelly article over her head, biting her lips to stop her sobs from escaping. "Such a good toy…" Felix cooed this time, rubbing her head as he pulled it down and covered her eyes with the waistband, pulling her pigtails out of the sides.

"Fuck… you look good. Just how a dumb brainless slut should look." Fishing his phone out, he smirked. "This proves how you've no problem with being brainless. You look fucking retarded but you're doing it because Master said it. That's exactly what this is about. Obedience" before he suddenly kissed her briefly, making her gasp.

"Now~ smile wide for a picture…" Before he turned the camera on and stepped back, making sure her whole body was in frame. Fuck. Felix was so fucking painfully hard. "Come on… don't be shy" he taunted when she sobbed in protest, making him switch to video instead. "Fine, then." His taunting smile dropped to a firm expression as he approached her, placing his feet on hers before he smacked her face, catching it all on camera.

"Aigooo~" he mimicked her, smacking her other cheek, uncovering her eyes but still keeping the underwear on her head. He decided that it will be a new style for her. "Look at this whore~" Y/n's flushed cheeks now received some more slaps before he placed his hand on her nose and pushed it back, chuckling loudly. "Awww such a cute little fuck piggy we have here… she loves this doesn't she?" When she continued to cry, Felix smacked her head and pulled at the girl's ponytail. "DOESN'T SHE?"

"Y- Yes, Master! Yes!"

"Good girl" pushing her nose back to look like a pig's again, the male spat at it. "Now tell Master you're thankful. Get on your knees and be good."

"T- Thank you, M- Master…" The girl cried out, slowly getting on her knees now. "Thank you s- so much…" Felix parted her legs by his foot, cutting the footage and tossing his phone on the bed before kicking her pussy, causing Y/n to jerk forward, face banging straight into his cock.

A moan left him before he grabbed both her ponytails, wrapping them around his hands. "Now I have a present for you. I bought it all a while back and have been keeping it hidden and safe for when I get a fuck piggy. And now that you're here, I'll give you it."

Yes, Felix was pissed at her and yes, he loved destroying her but he was no asshole. She still had that cute little whore face he adored.

Crouching down in front of her, he gripped her chin and kissed her lips again, ignoring her gasp and kissing her again before spitting right on her tongue. "Swallow it and wait for Master to be back. Face down and ass up. I shouldn't have to fuckin repeat myself."

Y/n trembled as she struggled to swallow his spit, bowing down on the ground, slowly raising her nude ass back up. A few moments passed with Felix bringing stuff over and near her, fumbling with things in his closet before he finally closed it and walked to her. "Aren't you lucky? Finding an owner without even looking. There's so many pets like you who have no Master… or not a good one at least, you know…" Standing behind her, Felix rubbed the lube all over the tiny and thick piggy tail assplug. "Aren't you lucky?"

The girl knew what he wanted to hear so she nervously started, having no idea what the boy was about to do. "Y- Yes, Master… v- very luc- AHHHH!" She could only lay there and weakly cry as Felix laughed loudly at her scream because he'd pushed the plug in, tapping her ass.

"Good piggy~" the male cooed and hooked a thin chain to a small loop on top of the plug, slowly making her sit up in silence, the only sounds being her weak sobs. "Just… give in… it'll hurt less that way and you'll be happier." His eyes were trained on what he was doing, the long chain extending from down her plug having nose hooks at the other end that he plugged in her nose, chuckling when her eyes widened as she located the small cage in front of her.

"Oh, yeah. That is your new crib" Felix was clearly loving this. Kissing her stretched little piggy nose, he placed the pink piggy ears on her underwear covered head, followed by a pink collar that had a small bell attached to it. "You look so beautiful…" Kissing her lips again, Felix attached weights to her nipples, making her whine out in pain as she tried to stop his hands. "Oho~" he swatted her hands away, grabbing the piggy hands and feet before putting them on her, finally folding her limbs and binding them.

"Hmmm… that's like a good filthy little fuck pig." Before he attached a leash to her collar and gulped, feeling his balls ache now due to the masterpiece he'd made, pulling at the leash to have her crawl in the cage before he closed it, chuckling at how she kept tripping. "Clumsy pig." Before he started to take pictures, taunting and humiliating her all the while.

When Felix was satisfied with the photoshoot, he opened the cage and walked to the bed, holding her leash and pulling her with him. "Now… the fun part." Before he tucked his aching cock out much to her horror, sitting down on the bed and pulling her in between her legs. Pumping his cock a little, the male moaned loudly as he started to piss on her face, chuckling loudly when she yelled and protested, trying to move away but only falling on her face, choking when he harshly pulled at her leash, forcefully pushing his cock in her mouth. "You better swallow that!"

Y/n started crying loudly again, wails leaving her throat as his hot piss started travelling down her throat, making her choke and gag as he loudly laughed. "What a useless piggy! Can't even be a good urinal." Before he smacked her face again, now starting to fuck her mouth fast and rough, hitting his hard tip against the back of her throat before forcefully pushing in, a trail of piss and spit hanging down her lips.

"Fuck… fuck…" Felix moaned loudly, his cock twitching inside of her and pulsating from how fucking good it felt. From her soft mouth to her tight throat, to how he could see his cock against her skin, her eyes widened when her breath supply would totally cut off from his balls getting stuffed between her lips.

"Fuck… you're no good… I'll have to train you plenty" her cries were causing shivers and vibrations up his cock as he fucked her face up and down his cock by her ponytails, kicking her pussy as he went faster and faster, his hips starting to ache from how much strength it was causing.

"What a dumb slut!" Pulling his cock out of her throat, he kicked her on her back, making her arch her back when the tail plug brushed against the floor. "I need that useless fucking pussy now. It better be worth it." Y/n felt scared and nervous for her vagina now as he warned and crawled over her now, pushing his way forcefully inside, biting down at her lip when he felt her hymen tear and lube his cock up.

"I am going to make an absolute mess out of you." He promised, his deep voice sending shivers down her sweaty body. "My mess."

I am sorry if it was too rough sjskso you said like bullying gone wrong-

231 notes · View notes

sugawara-sweetheart · 3 years

Text

𝔰𝔭𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔯'𝔰 𝔴𝔢𝔟

❥summary: what started off as sweet, innocent teenage love turned into a dark trap

❥warnings: tw physical abuse, tw emotional abuse, tw possessiveness, tw noncon (implied), abusive relationships, some mention of blood, cheating, suicide ideation

❥word count: 4.9k

thank you @obscureamor for helping me with a lot of the ideas for this fic, you’re my fave degen to lewd w ily <33

the first time daichi told you he loved you you were both sixteen. innocent, sheepish, naive but flattered as you stood under those spring cherry blossom trees, a breeze billowing, the sky a clear cerulean and pink petals showering down, clinging to your hair. he told you you looked beautiful, kissing the back of your hand and holding it with gentle fingers and the single rose he handed to you smelled so sweet. you didn’t care if the thorns pricked your fingers till you bled.

he still tells you he loves you. you just don’t know if he means it.

you’re not sure when it started to sour. maybe it was when daichi’s soft eyes became hard and his soft voice became deep, low growls instead. he was still kind and loving- but it was rather when he wanted to be. when you were being the perfect girlfriend, not the slutty whore that spoke too much to asahi and laughed at sugawara’s jokes, not the bitch wearing a short skirt and a tight top for every animalistic man on the streets to see- after all, did you want their attention or daichi’s? his fits of anger and snarls were unpredictable but time taught you lessons- answer his phone calls and messages straight away, let him choose what he wants to see you in, tell him who you’re going out and where and you dare make friends with people he disapproves of? it’s like you don’t even care about him! can’t you see it’s for your own good?

but daichi still loved you. each piercing scratch from his sharp words were always soothed with a contrasting kindness, care.

“i just want what’s best for you. don’t you trust me, don’t you trust your boyfriend?”

seeing the softness in his eyes, the hurt in his voice, you couldn’t help your heart wrenching with guilt. of course you shouldn’t have complimented asahi on his spike and you shouldn’t have let sugawara hug you and you shouldn’t have gone away for that weekend camping trip with your family without telling daichi- of course he’d panic when you returned his insistent calls hours later. you just should’ve been a good girlfriend, just like he wanted.

it never occurred to you that maybe daichi’s grips on your arm were too bruising, his words too venomous, his narrowed eyes too malicious till it’s too late.

when you’re holding that cursed stick in your trembling hands, those two pink lines blurring with the hot tears in your eyes stinging, daichi holds you. he holds you as you shake with each heavy sob, his lips pressed against your temple.

“it’s okay, y/n, it’s okay.” he whispers soothingly but you still can’t quell your rising panic, the horrible dread heavy in the pits of your stomach.

“it’s not okay!” you sob, shoving the pregnancy test stick to daichi to bury your tear-stained face in your hands. “we’re still at college, how can we have a baby?! it’s not the right time!” there’s words you don’t choke out. words that you know would reduce him to a screaming mess. maybe he’d throw around some of your belongings like the last time, maybe he’d even back you into a wall, trapping you with his taller, broader body.

“we’ve got this.” he says calmly, a gentle smile on his face as he rubs your back. “you can quit college till the baby’s older and by that time i’ll be a cop so i can support us. it’ll work out.” he kisses away your tears as he pulls you into his lap. “don’t cry, this will all work out. it’s our perfect family, a little earlier than we expected but just as good.” it sounds too well-planned. you don’t reciprocate when he presses his lips against yours, sighing slightly. “i love you.” you don’t say it back. you’re drained, your bloodshot eyes feeling heavy as you rest your head against his chest, cursing that thing inside you- his child- that has condemned you to a life tied to him. what a shame. maybe if you were smarter you’d have realised that since daichi started going to the pharmacy for you, those small ivory pills were a slightly yellower shade and sweeter than usual.

four years had passed. things only got worse.

you wake up to a prison. you’re bounded by the gold band on your left hand and the small child who you wake up with loving kisses, trying not to see your husband in those identical round brown eyes and short brunette hair. you’re locked in daichi’s grip every day of your life from the moment you wake up with his strong arm wrapped around your waist, pinning you down in his grip even when he sleeps.

it’s suffocating to live in a world of just daichi and your son. friends and family faded into a faraway dream. but it turns out he was right along.

“your friends are a bad influence.” he used tell you, pulling you to sit beside him on the couch with your infant son cradled in your arms. he kisses your cheek, a soft gesture that contrasts with the iron grip he has on your arm. “what sort of mother would you be to our son if you’re always out with your friends instead of being home with us?” you look down at the little baby, his soft, chubby, rosy cheeks, his round chin, his button nose, the brown tufts of hair. you hate the initial bitterness that consumes you like poisonous vines when you stare down at your son- daichi’s son- his warmth feeling icy cold in your arms before you push it away, daichi’s words ringing in your head. you have to be a good mother. you have to be a good mother.

eventually your friends stop leaving missed calls and unanswered messages.

the first time you’re lying on the floor, a crumpled, sobbing heap you threaten to leave. your face is numb, your vision blurred with hot tears as nothing but pain sears in the tender skin. you can barely breathe, hysterical with choked sobs rising in your tight throat and your body shivering as daichi towers over you. you scramble away when he crouches down to your cowering body, his face stoic.

“try it.” he says calmly, his cold eyes flickering down to your growing baby bump. “you’ve already disgraced your family by getting pregnant during college, do you really think they’ll ever look at you the same?” your blood runs cold as his fingers press on your chin, his touch oddly gentle compared to the bone-crunching punch he gave you moments ago. “they don’t care about you, y/n. not like i do.”

“b-but you hurt me.” daichi grimaces, his hand gently stroking the sore, reddened skin that he caused.

“i didn’t mean to. it was an accident, you know i love you.” his thumb wipes away your wet tears. “i’m sorry, let’s start over. you can’t leave me, we’re having a baby together- don’t take our son away from his dad. don’t let me be all alone.” his other hand tenderly presses on the swell of your stomach, stroking his child. “y/n?” your eyes flutter shut, taking a deep breath to calm your pounding heart as you try to relax into his touch.

“it won’t happen again?”

“never. i’m sorry.” you nod, trying not to let those stinging tears fall anymore as he kisses your pounding head.

but it happens again. and again. and again.

sometimes you lie awake at night after daichi’s fucked you. your throat pulsates with the forming bruises, a deep ache settling between your legs and every inch of your skin feeling tainted from the way your husband has fucked you so roughly, using you for his sole pleasure like a doll with the way he had your sobbing face pressed into the mattress, the grip on your hair burning. he sleeps soundly beside you now, that possessive arm still wrapped around your waist.

maybe you could leave.

bright fantasy burns in the back of your eyelids. a life where you’re happy, free to have friends and family, free to leave the house without the creeping paranoia of his eyes watching you. a life where you don’t have your phone checked every night, anxiety creeping in you just in case there’s a number in there that isn’t his. a life where you don’t flinch every time he reaches out to touch you, sometimes with a slap, sometimes with tender touch.

but you need money. and you’ve never worked a day in your life- the idea of a job is as much of a fantasy to you as freedom is. the cash you get is from daichi’s wallet but there’s not much to spend on: you only go out with him and your child and he’s the one to swipe his card for the bill and he takes you grocery shopping after you took too long the first few times, resulting in him interrogating you, hands pushing you up against the wall as your toddler wailed in the doorway. you don’t even buy makeup, pretty clothes, shoes or handbags because what if daichi doesn’t like them? what if he asks you why you want to dress like that, is there someone else’s attention you’re vying for?

you remember one of the times you brought up a job. it was at breakfast, your child had just turned two and was sat in his high-chair, babbling as you tried to feed him his porridge. daichi was sat opposite, sipping his coffee as he scrolled through his phone.

“hey, daichi.” he hums at you, glancing up briefly as you lower the bowl of porridge, nervously mixing the lumpy mixture around. “you know how he's older now? i was thinking, i have more time and…” your throat goes dry as he looks up at you, a small crease deepening between his brows. “well, i could do with a job. it’d be good for us to have some extra money a-and it’ll be a nice thing for me to do so i’m not stuck in the house bored all day.” you’re not sure what daichi’s thinking, his eyes trained on you as your son coos to himself.

“what’s wrong with me and our son that you want to leave this house so much?” his voice is ice cold. it makes your heart sink, the spoon clattering against the bowl from your trembling hands.

“n-nothing, i-i didn’t mean it like that.” his jaw clenches, the vein in his temple throbbing and you hate yourself for bringing it up. stupid. pathetic. stupid. what were you thinking?

“i provide for this family, okay? your only job is to be a good housewife and a good mum. do you understand?” you’re silent for a second too long and pain sears in you as he grips your jaw, yanking you forward roughly with his fingers pressing in so hard, his brutal strength excruciating. “i said, do you understand?”

“yes!” it’s a meek whimper with the hot tears that fill your ears. but daichi doesn’t look at all sympathetic or sorry as he pushes you back forcefully. the bowl falls from your hands, smashing over the tiles, the shards jagged and ugly. the loud crack startles your son, making him cry loudly. daichi lifts him out of the high chair before you can, cooing gently and kissing his chubby cheeks but his face becomes a cold, unforgiving glare as he looks down at you.

“clean up the mess.”

you never bring up the topic ever again.

your son beginning preschool is a gift. for the first time in years, there’s a lightness in your chest to be able to leave the house, holding your son’s small hands as you walk him to school. it’s liberating, feeling the breeze ripple through your hair, the sweet fragrance of flowers and pollen hanging in the air, the bustle of passing cars without the shadow of daichi looming. it’s an excuse to leave the house, to walk through longer streets and go into shops and buy the fruits you want with the money you pretend is yours and to be able to smile and speak to the shopkeeper yourself. for the first time in over ten years you feel some facade of independence. you almost feel free, like daichi isn’t your husband and you don’t have his son weighing you down, when you return to your empty home and get hours of being able to watch television and do your makeup and wear those beautiful clothes stuffed at the back of the wardrobe you thought you’d never be able to wear again. it’s empowering to catch people’s eyes for the first time in so long, to have other parents approach you with bright smiles. daichi was wrong, you think when you’re laughing with your new mum and dad friends. he’s wrong when you call your mother for the first time in years and she cries when she hears your voice, begging you to come home. other people can love you! he isn’t the only person you have.

you still scrub off the makeup and push your clothes to the back of the wardrobe every evening before daichi’s car pulls up in the driveway.

when you meet your son’s teacher, the darkness in your world fades. it’s like looking into the past, back at a time when life was brighter, when daichi wasn’t...daichi.

sugawara embraces you in a warm, gentle hug the day your son tugs you into his classroom after school. he’s grinning so wide, his hazel eyes crinkled and his grey hair still messy, his soft scent of lavender and soap still the same from all those years ago.

“it’s so good to see you, it’s been years!” he laughs, eyes taking in all of your features, scrutinising the way time has changed you.

“i don’t think i’ve seen you since the wedding.” you smile, tilting your head to admire how well sugawara had grown since you last saw him just almost seven years ago. he’s still as handsome, still smiling so vibrantly.

“i know, has daichi been keeping you locked up or something?” it’s a light-hearted chuckle but your stomach still jolts. “every time he comes out with us, he never brings you. even kiyoko said she hasn’t seen you for ages.” you force a smile, glancing away from his narrowed eyes to glance at your son waiting patiently by the doorway, his wide eyes watching with intrigue.

“someone has to stay home and look after that one.” sugawara laughs.

“he looks exactly like daichi, doesn’t he? as soon as i saw the surname and his face, i just knew he was yours.”

he opens his mouth to speak further but he’s cut off by the buzzing of your phone. you hope sugawara doesn’t notice how your hand trembles or how you blanch at seeing daichi’s name flash across the screen. he wasn’t home early, was he? would he be waiting at the front door waiting for you to walk in...in your tight dress, makeup plastered on your face and late? what would he do to you?

“i’m sorry. i have to go, i’ll see you tomorrow, sugawara.” he nods, opening up his arms in a hug which immediately you melt into, clinging to his warmth and breathing in his warm scent that just seems to make your thumping heart and churning stomach slow down, lulling you into serenity and safety. you hope he doesn’t realise you’re clinging to him for too long, hating how it hurts to pull away.

on the way home, your son asks you how you know sugawara sensei and you smile, admiring the pink blossom that flutters through the air as you tell him your stories of high school. as you approach your front door, the heavy weight in your stomach dissipates when you see daichi’s car isn’t parked out front.

“listen,” you tell your son. “don’t tell daddy your teacher is sugawara sensei. it’ll be a surprise for him.” you force a shaky smile and the innocent little boy nods, his eyes wide. he doesn’t question it.

your days become brighter. long conversations with a number saved as ‘pizza shop’ during the middle of the day when you know your son spends his lunchtimes on a playground and you’re at home, giggling and laughing away on the phone. sometimes they grow lustful and your hand sneaks between your legs, gasping and seeing white so much harder than you do with your own husband. it’s not fun not being able to see sugawara as much as you wish with daichi keeping you shackled but it only makes the moments you see him so much better. you enjoy the days daichi works later hours because then you have enough time to go into sugawara’s classroom once all the students have gone home. sometimes he lets your son sit in the reading nook in the corner of the classroom whilst the two of you sit by his desk, laughing as you feel the safety to open yourself up to him. he’s just kind. sweet and caring and his jokes always make you laugh so hard. there’s no anxiety, no tension, your body never feels the need to flinch at any of his sudden movements and you aren’t scared of saying the wrong things, doing the wrong things. other times he’ll take you and your son out to cute diners and ice cream shops where everything feels bright, natural and just happy.

all the darkness daichi keeps you in fades away with the light sugawara brings.

that’s until you mess up.

you’re trembling when you see daichi’s car in the driveway. nothing but utter fear consumes you, tears stinging your eyes with fear and feeling like you’re going to be fucking sick as your son tugs you closer down the garden path to the front door.

“come on, mummy!” he cries. he’s so innocent, he doesn’t understand the fright or why your hands shake so much you can’t even force the key into the lock. but you don’t need to. the door opens and daichi stands in the doorway. in all the years you’ve spent looking into his eyes, they’ve never looked so dark. so empty.

“daddy, you’re home early!” your son exclaims as he skips into the house, his eyes sparkling extra bright. you don’t want to meet daichi’s eyes as you watch his narrowed orbs follow the little boy. there’s sticky ice cream stains clinging to his chin and the shirt of his uniform. he doesn’t say anything, turning to you as he gestures with his head and holds the door open.

“aren’t you going to come in?”

it’s like walking to your own death.

you can’t help the involuntary flinch when he closes the door behind you, your body shaking uncontrollably as the door snaps shut. the lock clicks, the bolt sliding as he does the chain. a prison.

“why don’t you go to your room?” daichi says, brushing past you as he approaches his son and ruffles his hair. “daddy’s bought you a new toy car.”

“a police one?” the little boy gasps, his eyes widening and sparkling with adoration for his father. his father that traps you in his web of death like an evil, deathly spider. daichi smiles.

“yeah, a police car because you want to be like daddy when you’re older, right?” the boy nods and runs up the stairs, not even looking back to you sinking in on yourself. daichi’s looking up the stairs till the bedroom door snaps shut.

“please-” you don’t even get a chance to speak. you gasp, stumbling and blinking hard as tears fill your eyes, gasping as nothing but utter pain sears through your cheek. it’s warm and tender to touch, the force of daichi’s hand enough to send blood pounding in your ears, your skin throbbing. “daichi-” he does it again, a cry of anguish escaping you as his hand meets the sore skin of your cheek again. and again.

you sob as you crumple on the floor, tears and snot dribbling down your face and ruining the makeup you prepared so beautifully that day. sugawara told you you looked beautiful. happy. not anymore.

“p-please, daichi- i-i’m begging you!” your hand trembles and your body flinches as you try to shield yourself from daichi’s raised one but he pushes it away, like a feeble nothing. his eyes are fiery blackness, teeth gritted together and his cheeks flushed with the redness of his anger.

“what the fuck is this?” he hisses, harsh fingers slapping at the exposed thigh of your short dress and shoving against the shoulders of your low neckline. “what sort of whore do you think you’re dressing like? who are you dressing like this for?” you’re choking on sobs as you try to force out the words, your trembling hands trying to cling to daichi’s but he’s strong and harsher, smacking them away with stinging pain.

“n-no one- daichi, please!”

he laughs at you, mirthless and cruel as he grabs you by your hair, the pain burning in your scalp as you try to prise his hands off you, wailing out for help as he drags you into the living room.

“stop crying.” he hisses as he shoves you against the hard floor. he stands in the doorway, his eyes wide and gleaming as you scramble away from him, begging for mercy yet crying for help. “no one can help you.”

“i-i’ll tell the police.” it’s an empty threat and daichi’s harsh laugh echoes in the room, leaving you trembling as your back hits the wall. adrenaline is pumping through you, your mind screaming that you need to get out! he approaches closer, smiling calmly even though his hands are curled into fists.

“we live in the countryside, y/n. the police are my colleagues- who do you think they’d believe, a respectable officer of the law or some dumb housewife who’s been cheating on her dutiful husband with her son’s teacher?”

your heart stops. he knows. that’s murder and malice in his face and your body feels cold with every shiver. you need to get out.

it’s a flash of bravery when you get to your feet and run, your heart pounding in your chest but daichi’s too quick. too strong. he easily overpowers you, arms locking around your waist as he pushes you to the hardwood floor, your back smacking against the panels and leaving you immobilised with horrible pain wracking through your bones.

“did you not think i’d find out?” he hisses. you don’t even register his knuckles smashing against your face till pain spasms through it, your eyes tearing up and hot blood trickles from your throbbing nose, leaking into your mouth as you sob. the metallic taste makes you sick. “imagine how embarrassing it was for me to have one of the rookies come up to me and tell me they’d seen you getting all cosy with my old friend. in front of my own son.” he grips you by the scruff of your clothes only to slam you down onto the floor. every nerve in your body is alight with pain but it’s not over yet.

“you don’t realise you’re my wife. i’m not letting you leave me, i can’t be alone.” his eyes look dead. “i own you.”

he drills it into you. fucking you dry and tearing apart your walls, every thrust leaving you with nothing but pain and the possessive grip on your throat harsh and the slaps on your cheeks relentless. you can only cry that you’re sorry, beg for him to stop, beg for mercy but daichi doesn’t stop still you’re a broken mess on the floor, bruised legs spread and your wrecked cunt leaking his cum.

daichi’s eyes are softer but his face still cold and emotionless as he tucks himself into his pants, staring down at you lying pathetically on the floor.

“you need to clean yourself up.” he says, voice calmer as he pats your knee. “i’ll order a pizza for dinner.” he says it casually as he walks out of the door, snapping the door shut behind him.

you don’t see daylight again. all hours of the day are spent cooped in the house, staring at the same walls. you don’t even get to take your son to school anymore, the task being completed by daichi now and it always make you shiver when he comes home angrier after seeing the face of his former best friend- your former lover. you don’t know what he said to sugawara but the grey-haired man that was your only source of solace doesn’t show in your empty, darkened days again. it hurts, to think of how much happiness he brought to you, how heavy he made your heart beat and your world warm and now he’s nothing, just a distant memory.

does he not care? did he even ever love you? or were you just nothing to him?

the questions swirl in your mind every day spent in the same way: doing the laundry, cooking a hot meal for daichi, cleaning up every room in the house and trying not to cry when you dust photo frames of your quick, shotgun wedding- the legal trap daichi ensnared you in- and when you tidy away your son’s clothes, resisting the urge to destroy his bedroom because that small, innocent child, a mixture of your and daichi’s bloods, was the emotional trap that binds you to your captor for life. the same son that can’t even look at you now that daichi has left you ugly and bruised, the skin of your cheek welted and your nose and eyes purpled.

“do you see i’m the only one for you? you're mine- you belong to me- i love you.” daichi grunts the same words in your ear every night he fucks you. it’s always for him, his hips snapping into yours as he uses you for his own pleasure, one hand always locked around your throat, reminding that you’re stuck here, you’re going nowhere. it makes you feel dirty, tainted as he ruts into you but he’s all you have. sugawara isn’t here, your son is too young, family and friends long faded when daichi handed you the scissors to sever your ties all those years ago. all you can do is be silent and agree, doing whatever he wants you to because you’re worried one day he won’t be punching his fist into a wall- it could be your head.

you’re thankful for the day daichi forgets to lock the front door after dropping your son off to school and leaving for work. you're almost scared to pull it open, worried he’ll be standing by the gates but his car is gone. he isn’t there and the sky looks so blue despite the thick clouds, the smell of crisp, fresh air so relaxing to inhale.

it’s a chance to run.

your stomach churns with anxiety as you sit in the police station, staring at the uniformed officers who pass you by. each brunette one makes your heart jump and your body jolt before their face turns and you can breathe again because it isn’t him, it isn’t daichi and you’re still close to safety, you’re almost there to finally being free after so many countless days of just trying to survive. you can finally sleep safe without your body aching and your mind craving any source of freedom- your family, sugawara, even death would surely be better than this. maybe now once you’re free you could look at your son and see him without seeing daichi in his eyes, see him as your innocent child and not the one who chained you to your husband.

you don’t notice the narrowed eyes of the old officer at the desk.

that’s until you notice the familiar figure walking in through the doors, his brow deeply furrowed and his clenched fists hidden in his pockets.

“w-wait- what’s going on?” you’re begging, standing up as you turn to the officer who sighs as he scratches his head. he ignores you, looking straight at daichi.

“i thought it’d be best for you both to sort out.” is all he lazily says as daichi nods his head respectfully, thanking the man. but his eyes are trained on you.

“please- don’t let him take me!” you sob but daichi just sighs and the officer looks uncomfortable like he’s caught up in just a simple case of a husband and wife arguing. if only it was that simple.

“y/n, stop causing such a fuss.” daichi says, his voice gentle but you know the sharpness it can hold. his dark eyes are a warning. you can’t fight anymore. you can’t resist anymore. you already tried it and it was futile.

you’re going to die. you think it when daichi’s hand grips your arm, tighter and more bruising than it needs to be as he walks you to his car.

you’re going to die. you think it as your head knocks repeatedly against the window, your teary eyes just staring out at the empty, quiet hills that surround you as daichi fucks you. the glass of the car window is cold against the fresh welts on your cheek but each thrust is hard, forceful, punishing.

“you’re nothing.”

“i own you.”

“you’re going to regret ever thinking you can leave me.”

you’re going to die.

781 notes · View notes