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yzzart · 11 months

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— 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

★ 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 + 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫. ★

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: At all times, someone needs you, but there was one in particular.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: +18!, smut, riding, size difference, unprotected sex, teasing, dirty talk, praise kink, p in v, mention of bulge, explicit content, explicit words, sexual content.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.164!

You should be in your universe.

Fighting a criminal, or even pulling a kitten out of a tree. — Or also, tidy up your mediocre apartment that was in the purest mess along with some of Gwen's things, since she had spent the night there.

And you wondered, and prayed, if she had locked the door and closed all the windows. — God, you hope she hasn't left everything out in the open.

You knew, like no one else, that you needed to assume one of your greatest responsibilities and not be distracted by anything from another universe or another canon line. — Your New York needed you; they needed Spider Woman.

At any moment, minute or even second, some villain or a piece from another universe could appear in your city. — Well, it's not hard to admit that you were used to it.

Your duty, loyalty and dignity to protect all citizens of your city was at stake. — But, you could at least take a few hours off, right?

But in such a selfishly cheeky way, there was one person in particular who needed you more than anything; this may sound dramatic or even exaggerated but it didn't matter to you. — This is way out of your worry zone.

"¿Qué está pensando mi princesa, eh?" — Your vague and irrelevant thoughts disappeared in a matter of seconds, like a tiny, soft feather in the winds; that voice so deep, tense and a little breathless landed in your ears, perfectly.

That voice that made your body tremble, and made your mind so clouded and out of control, even you didn't know what to do at certain times. — It seemed that voice had some kind of magic, or even a poison that you loved to mortally quench; a poison you were addicted to.

Opening your eyes, you slowly come back to your reality; the only one that mattered to you. — Your heavy eyes, with the vision a little blurred but clear enough to admire the presence that was in front of you, or rather, below you.

The image of Miguel, devoting all his attention and concentration to you, while you were straddling him. — His big, strong, fearsome body next to the purest white silk pillows, along with the small scratches caused by your fingernails and weak bites scattered across the exposed regions; a sight you could kneel at so blessed it was.

His hair, totally messy and unruly, made his presence even more magnificent; not to mention his red face, not because of some embarrassment or anything like that, but because of the intense pleasure he was feeling for you. — Miguel could feel the burning sensation in his chest.

But, nothing could compare or explain the feeling of your pussy squeezing his dick; Miguel felt, in fact, disoriented and lost when he felt and admired your little pussy swallowing his big fat cock; not to mention the bulge that had grown in your belly, it wasn't all that visible, but Miguel watched with desire, temptation and pride.

O'Hara knew perfectly well that your sweet, hot, wet pussy was made for him. — And if he could spend all that time buried in your pussy without thinking about spider society, the multiverse or his responsibilities as spider man, he would.

Waiting for your answer, or anything to come out of your mouth, one of Miguel's large, rough hands ran up your bare thigh; a long, strong squeeze was directed at the region. — In a matter of seconds, his finger prints would be there.

A simple finger print was nothing compared to all the bite marks and hickeys the dreaded man had left on every possible region of your body. — You bit your lip, not so radically or brutally, and proceeded to direct your hand over Miguel's hand; the size comparison was captivating.

"I was thinking of you." — Your confession came out as a near-whisper, as if it were a secret. — No matter what was going on in your city or the multiverse, you needed Miguel, just like he needed you.

A triumphant, satisfied smile formed on Miguel's desirable lips, and let his fangs stand out, at least a little. — Fangs that have already passed through your entire body, without leaving even a part out; but this is far from being a complaint.

Miguel's reddish eyes, which mesmerized and held you, roamed over your body without haste or impatience. — As much as O'Hara was an extremely impatient man. — He couldn't help but be proud of the marks he'd left on your body, signaling that you belonged to him and only him.

He admires your boobs, which moved slowly according to your movements in his lap, and how your nipples were red from grabbing and sucking them so much. — And he knew how sensitive they were; and Miguel made a point of directing his other hand on one of your sensitive nipples and squeezing it.

"Miguel." — You whimpered, closing your eyes to the painful yet pleasurable touch. — The feel of Miguel's cock pulsing inside you, slaking your desire and the teasing, torturous touch he was getting on your nipple was freaking your head out.

"Te ves tan hermosa así, mami." — The comforting words uttered in his deep tone made you squeeze him tighter, Miguel closed his eyes, quickly, as he felt the tight, delicious sensation. — "Riding me like this."

Removing his hand from your nipple, ending the teasing, torturous action, Miguel places it on your hip; a gentle caress was left on the region, then he signaled and encouraged you to increase the luscious and pleasurable movements in his lap. — In a matter of seconds, you understood and fulfilled your man's request.

The drastic and quick movement of your hips against Miguel's brought moans and grunts from both of your mouths; your thin, needy, melancholy moans against Miguel's deep, rough moans was the enchanted combination.

O'Hara refused to close his hungry red eyes and miss any miserable second of the scene before him; no matter how good he felt or how hard your pussy was squeezing his cock, he wanted to witness everything. — He wanted to see his good girl riding him.

"Mi Dios del cielo." — He moaned, louder this time, and biting his lips deeply, making his own fangs ravage him. — "Vas a ser mi jodida muerte, bebé."

You mutter something incoherent, incomprehensible, but it was probably some word of agreement directly to Miguel. — Not even he tried to decipher what you had actually said. — But, the noise of wet skin hitting and your needy and excited moans ran through the man's head.

"Miggy..." — It was pathetic how Miguel watched his nickname come out of your mouth in such a delightful and whiny way; you decided to place your hands under Miguel's muscular chest, gently running your fingernails over the area.

"¿Qué pasa, mi princesita?" — Miguel knew you wouldn't be able to answer him properly, but he didn't miss another opportunity to tease you. — He looked at your mouth, and mentally repudiated you for hurting your beautiful lips with your teeth. — "Ven aquí, mi corazón, por favor."

His needy words didn't go unnoticed by you, even though you weren't aware of much at that moment, and of course, you didn't fail to fulfill another request from Miguel. — Then, bending down a little more, slowing down the movements, your breasts press against Miguel's and you feel a shiver run through your body at the contact; your hands come up a notch, landing on o'Hara's neck.

Your face was only an inch away from Miguel's, and you could feel his sharp, deep breathing against yours. — Your lips almost struggled against his, and your eyes managed to admire his sharp fangs.

O'Hara felt your eyes fixed on his fangs, admiring and gazing, he knew you were obsessed with them and that turned him on even more. — The fact and the way he was so desperate, so needy for your lips melted every last neuron you had.

"Bésame, mi reina." — Miguel whispered against your lips, tickling you; he didn't even have to say twice for you to heed his warm attention.

In a quick moment, like the blink of an eye, you joined your lips with Miguel's; an action you were desperate to commit. Your soft lips, so soft and silky against Miguel's silky, rough but so desirable lips brought you comfort, in addition to excitement. — You molded yourselves, became one, fully fitted into each other.

Miguel's rough tongue explored your mouth, it seemed like it was the first time the man had kissed you. Your tongue lashed, intensely, against O'Hara's; it looked like they were dancing, fighting for space. — Not to mention the obscene and wet sounds that were running through the dimly lit room.

Sometimes, your tongue touched Miguel's sharp fangs, and it's possible to tell that you did it on purpose and he knew it.

Suddenly, Miguel's hand that was on your hip, helping you move, along with the other, were directed to your thighs; grabbing them tightly, and taking control of the movements. — An unexpected action and surprising you.

A surprised moan came out of your mouth during the kiss, and you even pulled your lips away from Miguel's; but he made a point of biting your lips at the very moment you decided to do so. — The sharp feel of his fangs on your lips caused you to shiver again.

Not distracted, but keeping his attention on you, Miguel gripped your thighs tightly and forced your hips against his, making a real impact on you; from that moment on, Miguel was in control of the movements and in you. — You were completely filled by Miguel's cock, and you could actually feel his heavy balls bumping against you.

O'Hara moved your hips down and up with ease, and modesty, reminding you of the rhythm you were practicing before; but, it was for a little while. — Feeling a pressure, a weight on the bed, which was in a mess, you couldn't see Miguel lifting his legs a little, then bending them; you tried to look back but were stopped.

"No, no, ojos en mí, cariño." — He ordered precisely, and you didn't dare disobey him.

O'Hara couldn't contain the impatience, which in this man was stronger than he was, and he moved your hips harder, with more fervor; he recognized how needy he was for you, and how desperate to fill your luscious pussy with his seed. — You whimpered loud and clear in his ears, which glorified the noises that came out of your mouth.

In the dark room, with both clothes scattered on the floor, the noise of skins clashing, your loud and so excited moans and certain grunts of Miguel controlling the environment. — And your and Miguel's scent mingled with the strong, intense scent of sex.

Miguel felt a thin and a little burning stitch on his neck, he had the notion that it was your nails scratching him again and he had the perspective that you were close to your orgasm; besides your moans started to get louder and your pussy was squeezing him even more. — You didn't have to warn him that you were close to your climax, Miguel recognized it even in your smell; that man knew your body better than you.

"I got you, my love." — He grumbles, and making a little effort, to leave small, wet kisses in the region of your neck. Miguel's lips moved up to your chin, then rested on your lips, leaving a long, promiscuous kiss. — "I got you, my pretty little girl."

As Miguel accelerated the pace of his thrusts, frantically, the noise of the bed moving, thrashing against the wall began to travel through the room and into your ears.

With his big, strong arms, Miguel hugs your waist; and besides feeling the pleasure completely dominating your body, you felt safe and comfortable with him. — It wasn't just the pleasure that was there, of course, the passion, protection and security you felt for each other.

A grunt, easily seen as a groan, brusque and deep but so liberating, exclaimed from Miguel's lips; At the same time, he dug his fangs into his lips and bit down hard, and he could already taste the bitter, metallic taste. — He had reached his peak.

Miguel had filled you in; the warm, sticky, delicious feel of his release against your walls was a blessed thing. — A majestic thing, and one that held O'Hara's mind. — He didn't want to get out of you, and he really didn't. — But, O'Hara didn't stop moving his hips, he wanted you to take every last drop of his cum.

With your face pressed against Miguel's neck, he could feel your labored breathing and low moans along with whimpers. — It tickled the older man's sensitive area and brought a triumphant smile to his lips.

"You did good, Mami." — Miguel moved his head so that his lips were brushing against your ear. — "And mi dios..." — He drew in a long breath, then a hearty but deep-pitched laugh exclaimed in your ears. — "Tu serás mi muerte."

#miguel o'hara #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x spiderwoman!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader smut #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o’hara smut #spiderman x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 smut #across the spiderverse

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misserabella · 1 year

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CONFESSEX

ellie williams x catholic! fem!reader

a/n; if you think this might disrespect or trigger you don’t read it! i respect all types of religions and it’s not my intention! <3 love y’all!🩵 also thanks for the 5k!!!!!!!

summary; you wanted ellie. and no god was gonna stop you.

cw; +18 content! minors dni!, ellie calls god your false god, daydreaming, god kink, body workship, weed usage, smoking, ellie being absolutely whipped, kissing, first time for everything (reader), making out, use of pet names instead of y/n, fingering (r receiving), tit and nipple play, praising, praise kink, ellis calls you her good girl, oral (r receiving)…

“Come on, angel, I can’t hear you.” you were whimpering, drooling spilling from those pretty pink lips of yours as big warm and ringed hands gripped your hips, rocking your soaked and throbbing push against the denim of her crotch.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when her lips latched to your neck, biting hickeys and dampening your skin in open mouth kisses.

“Give us this day our daily bre…bread, Ellie…” you cried out when her hips thrusted upwards, both hands moving from your hips to your ass for her nails to dig into, pushing you harshly against the bulge of her strap. She chuckled, hushing you in a whisper.

“Shh, we’re on mass baby.”

She was dazed. Those pretty tears of yours making a mess out of her. She knew it was bad. Fucking you on the oratory room? And during mass? Really bad. But oh well, Ellie was not a good girl. She was worse.

“Go on, or you’re gonna get left behind.” she encouraged you, smirking when her fingers got inside your panties and you choked on air, withering when her fingertips sank on your sticky folds.

“Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those… those who trespass against us!” you mumbled in between crying soft whines. “Please, Ellie…” he clicked her tongue, fingers entering your twitching hole and thrusting in you, making your nails dig on her shoulders.

“Go on, gorgeous. I know you can do it. You’re a good girl.” you almost came in the spot, when her fingers curved and hit that sensitive spot in your gummy walls. She felt them flutter around her fingers and stopped every movement, leaving you almost touching heaven just to let you fall back to earth again. You cried, face scrunching when your orgasm was stolen out of your reach for the third time in less than thirty minutes. “Ah, ah…” you heard her warn, chuckling when you tried and reach after it, rocking against her rough hand. “No cumming ‘till you finish your prayers, baby.”

New tears fell down your cheeks, hiccups of frustration only making Ellie’s boxers wetter. “I can’t, icanticanticant…”you whimpered, unable to control how much it hurt ‘down there’, as you always said. You had to cover your mouth when a scream left your lips at the harsh spank the auburn haired gave to your ass, the sting making your hips buckle against her.

“Yes you can. Come on, use your words gorgeous.” you hissed when she sucked a new bruise on that sweet spot on your neck.

“and lead us not into temp…temptation,” you stuttered when her fingers moved again against your clit. The burning sensation in your lower stomach was like the deepest pits of hell, torture, but it hurt so good that you found yourself begging for more. “but deliver us from evil. Amen.” you moaned that last part, fingers thrusting deep inside of you, the wet sounds of your juices filling the little wooden room along with your gasps and silent whimpers.

“See? I knew you could do it. Such a good girl for me.” you hid your face in the junction of her neck and shoulder when her fingers started to fuck you just right.

“Ellie… Want… Want…” you were a babbling mess, drooling and crying on her neck as she made sure to fuck that precious mind out of you. You couldn’t even form a simple fucking sentence.

“What do you want, hm? Tell me and I’ll give it to you, angel. Anything you want.” but she already knew what you meant.

“Wanna cum, pleasepleaseplease…” you muttered, cheeks burning up but still the feeling of your building orgasm being just the perfect inhibitor that you needed.

“You wanna cum sweetheart?” you nodded, pretty moans falling off your lips when her free hand —the one that wasn’t buried deep in your panties— tightly gripped your soft and silky locks so she could get a glimpse at your pretty and fucked out face. Her thumb pressed against your clit, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Fuck, I love when you do that shit. So fucking pretty for me…” you were begging at this point, needing her to give you the green light to gush all over her ringed fingers. You just needed her to give you a last push, to let you let go. “Come on baby, show me how much you love my fingers, how much you love me to fuck you in the church of your false god. Cum for me, angel.” and just like that, you were cumming, so fucking hard that if it weren’t for her mouth muffling your moans and screams, the full church would have known what was going on in between those tight walls.

Her mouth was like a drug. The more you tasted it, the more you found yourself begging for it. Her tongue was hungry, yet lazy against yours, spit dripping down your chin as her fingers kept thrusting in you, helping you ride out your high. Your brain was a pink mush at that point, too fucked out of it to even know what was going on, stars dancing behind your close pretty and teary eyes. You still couldn’t get used to just how good it all felt. The touching, the kissing… Ellie.

“Look at you…” you gagged when she pushed her dripping fingers inside your mouth. “Look at the fucking mess you’ve made.” you moaned around her fingers —being able to taste your release on them— pupils blown and used cunt fluttering around the emptiness her big fingers had left once they had left your gummy walls. “Such a dirty girl, letting me have my way with her in church…” you whimpered when another spank made your skin grew in goosebumps. “You should be embarrassed of yourself.” she said while pulling her fingers out of that tight and warm mouth of yours.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, god, I’m sorry…” her pitch black eyes shone in lust at your pleads of forgiveness. “Please forgive me, please…”

“You want forgiveness?” her wet fingers caressed your cheek and, later on, your hair, patting it slightly as you nodded. “Then kneel.” she said, chuckling a little bit when she could see the confusion on pretty face. “Kneel.” this time, she pushed your head down, her other hand guiding you to get off her lap to settle in between her legs. You gasped due to the sudden push against her strap, the damp denim and warmth pressing to your warm cheek. You heard her groan at the sight of your lips being so close to her cock, and pussy. “Now be a good girl and pray, hm?” she gave you a sweet smile as she unbuckled her belt and tugged on her jeans, the strap bouncing and resting against his happy trail. “Pray with your lips around my cock.”

“Ellie?” she came back to the present and got out of her head when she finally heard your voice calling out for her. “Can you please hand me my bible?” your sweet little voice filled your pink and strawberry scented room —which now was indulged in the sour weed smoke that scaped from her lips—.

If Ellie was proud about anything in her fucking life, that would be you. Her sweet best friend. You were so perfect, so innocent, so pure… An angel.

You were scribbling in one of your notebooks, finishing up some kind of homework in between little hums and babbles. Ellie was just lost in how beautiful and ethereal you looked, with your little pink lips pursed and silky hair framing your face. God, she wanted to ruin you…

“Sure thing, gorgeous.” she said, leaving your bed —in which she had been laying and smoking on for the last hour while staring at you— to reach out for the little bible that rested on your nightstand and slowly walk up to you. Her hand handed it up, but before you could take it she pulled her hand back, making you frown. “Nuh-uh… You know how to ask for things, don’t you sweetheart?” you let out a little giggle as she leaned in, waiting for you to close the distance in between your lips and her cheek, which you happily did.

You loved to kiss Ellie, there was something about it that always made your stomach flutter with butterflies.

“Wait… One more?” she whined when you pulled away, but you only shook your head, taking your bible from her hands with a little giggle. Her eyes were bloodshot and half-lided, breath heavy.

“I need to finish my homework, Ellie…” she groaned, ‘cause she knew that you were right and that you were just best friends. You didn’t even know she thought about you this way. But fuck, she wanted you so bad… Needed you so much… And you sounded so pretty trying to be the good girl you always were. Fuck, the things she’d do to you.

She smirked. “Okay.” she rose her hands up in innocence, but there was nothing innocent in the way she was staring at you while biting down on her bottom lip. You were back at doing your homework when she palmed herself over her jeans. If only you could recognize the lust on her eyes as she stared at you…

Ellie had always been careful. Never touched you in a way that screamed anything other than innocence. She couldn’t. Even though she wanted it, so badly. She would die if she’d ever make you feel uncomfortable. She loved you. You meant the world to her. But lately it was getting worse. The constant dirty wet dreams, the daydreaming… You were so fucking beautiful it hurt.

“How much longer, baby?” she inquired, and you hummed.

“Not long.” you answered, and she sighed. She decided to light up another blunt. She just wanted to pull you away from those books and make you pay attention to her.

“What?” she inquired you when she noticed you were staring at her. You took a deep breath.

“Forget it.” you shied out, your cheeks turning pink.

“Hey…” she called out for you, patting the free side on her bed. “What’s wrong, doll?” her hand found your cheek when you sat beside her.

“It’s nothing…” you promised but she wasn’t having it.

“Come on… No need to be shy with me, darling.” you only flushed harder. “What is it? You want to try it?” she asked, pointing at the blunt, and you nodded. She smiled. “That’s okay baby.” she promised, handing it to you, you sat up upright. “Take a small light drag, alright? Don’t want my pretty girl to choke.” you nodded, your body shivering at her cute nicknames. They always made your heart flutter. You followed her orders, but still managed to cough, the feeling of the smoke burning your throat. “Woah…” she patted your back, giving you the bottle of water you kept on your bed site table. “You okay, princess?” you nodded. “I have an idea. Give it to me.” you handed her the blunt, and she took the drag. “Come here.” and you found yourself stuttering when her free hand pushed you from the back of the neck towards her. She smirked at the blush on your face, neck and ears. Your heart was doing flips inside your chest. “Open up.” her hand now was on your face once again, her thumb on your bottom lip, pushing open your mouth. Your eyes fluttered close as she leaned closer, exhaling the smoke inside your mouth, and you inhaled, this time you throat not feeling that sore. “Good girl.” an unconscious whimper left your mouth at the praise, already feeling the effects of the weed. Ellie’s eyes shot open before a smirk took over her lips. “You liked that, baby? Like it when I call you good girl?” you blushed, but still nodded.

“Ellie…” you muttered her name, her eyes glued to her lips. Yours were too. “Can you kiss me?” you inquired, and fuck. Why did you even ask?

You moaned when her mouth met yours, her tongue pushing inside at the first change, humming and groaning. It was your first kiss, and you truly didn’t know how to kiss her back, but you knew it felt good. Too good. She noticed, pulling away. “Open your mouth and put your tongue out for me baby. That’s it.” she was back at kissing you, this time slower, so you could follow, showing you. “Fuck.” she groaned, pulling away. “I can’t. I can’t do this. You’re high. I’m high. You don’t know what you are doing.” she sighed, fighting with herself. She wanted to pin you down and keep kissing you. Pull more of those sweet sound out of your mouth.

“I know what I’m doing.” you promised, sitting on her lap. Ellie almost choked.

“Baby…” you hushed her, kissing her once again, and she groaned. “Fuck. You don’t know what you do to me.”

“Touch me, Ellie. Please…”

“Doll, please don’t.” she begged you, trying so hard to not rip your clothes and fuck you just like she had been dreaming for years on end.

“I want you, Ellie. Please…” fuck, this wasn’t supposed to go this way. Where had her shy little girl gone?

“Fuuuuuck.” she grunted when she felt your lips on her neck.

“Please, please, please…” tears were swelling in your eyes. You had been wanting to ask for it for months. But you were always too shy to ask. Listening to your best friends all talking about their first kisses, first times… You wanted that. But after weeks of thought, you had noticed that all they felt with their boyfriends; the butterflies, the nervousness, the need… You experienced it with Ellie. You liked Ellie. You liked your best friend. Your religion said it was a sin: Loving someone that was your same sex. But you couldn’t fight it anymore. ‘Cause if it was so wrong… Why would this feel so right? So good? You needed her. Humping your little cunt against your pillow was not enough. There was never enough of Ellie.

“Okay, baby. You’re okay. I’m gonna take care of you, alright?” she promised and you nodded, opening your mouth for her when she kissed you again. She turned you around and pushed you against the bedsheets of your bed, taking place in between your thighs. Your back arched when her lips found your neck, sucking bruises that you’d proudly wear tomorrow. Her hands pushed in between your bodies to hike up your skirt.

“Ellie…” you whimpered when one of her hands cupped your cunt, a wet patch adorning your panties.

“Fuck doll, you’re so wet…” you moaned when she started to circle your clit from over your panties. “That feels good?”

You nodded, your hips bucking against her touch.

“Of course it does…” she cooed, pulling from your pj’s shirt to strip you out of it, your beautiful tits spilling out and free for her hungry eyes to see. “So fucking beautiful…” her hand pushed inside your panties as her lips latched to your nipples.

“Ellie!” you cried out. Shit. This felt too good.

She smirked. “Atta girl…” she pushed one of her fingers inside your tight pussy. “Look at you… Taking my fingers so good…” your eyes rolled to the back of your head as she started to thrust it in and out.

You were moaning non-stop. Making her so fucking horny it hurt. You looked so beautiful beneath her, eyes glassy and lips swollen… She wanted to ruin you.

“That’s it. Open up for me, princess.” another finger went in, and you screamed when she hit your g spot.

“Oh god…” tears were swelling your eyes. You’d never felt this kind of pleasure. This love. Your stomach was filled with butterflies with every kiss she left on your skin. And you heart felt so warm… You loved her. You loved Ellie.

“What god baby?” she smirked. “Can god fuck you like I do? Make you feel like I do?” she inquired and you shook your head. “That’s right, he can’t. But I do. Only me.”

“Don’t stop, please Ellie, don’t stop…” you begged and she cooed.

“Look at you. Begging me. Praying at me to make you cum, aren’t you?” you nodded. “That’s right… I’m your god baby.” you moaned. “And I’d go on my knees for mine.”

“Fuck!” you cursed—something you never did— when you suddenly felt her tongue, lapping at your arousal and sucking at your clit. She grunted at your taste, eating you out like a starved woman.

“Pussy so sweet… You taste so fucking good…” she groaned, eyes heavy, pussy drunk just by one little taste.

She continued to eat you, fucking her fingers in and out of you, making your thighs shake. You were gonna cum. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Ellie. I’m gonna…!” you tried and warn her, your back arching as fat tears slid down your cheeks.

“You’re gonna cum, baby? Gonna make a mess out of my face?” you nodded, whimpering. “Go ahead baby, cum for me. Wanna see you fall apart.”

You came with a deep moan, breathless, your walls fluttering around her fingers and making it hard for her to help you ride it as you clenched. You’d never felt anything like it. This was heaven.

Ellie came up to kiss you, her lips and chin wet in your cum. You could taste yourself on her tongue.

“You’re mine.”

When have you not been?

a/n; ellie is my god tbh

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yourmaximoff · 1 year

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Hunger for Sweets

Summary: The search for sweets in the early hours of the morning ends with your stepsister, between your legs taking your virginity.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Innocent!Fem!Reader

Warnings: (+18) top!wanda, botton!reader, candy kiss, feeling of guilt, corruption, degradation, oral, fingering, loss of virginity.

Words: 5k

(English is not my first language, sorry for any translation errors)

𓆩♡𓆪

Sighing, you stopped in the middle of the kitchen with your eyes fixed on a large jar of sweets on top of the cupboard. Agatha, your stepmother, was very strict about everything since she arrived, always keeping any candy away from you and your new stepsister.

The lack of sweets bubbling in your veins made a rebellious thought pass through your mind.

'Is it just a little candy? What will it cost?'

You questioned yourself, your reputation as a good girl about to be destroyed by the hunger for sugar. You sighed, shaking your head at your own thoughts, that little voice in the back of your consciousness starting to curse you. You weren't one to break rules, you always stayed in line and did exactly what was asked without questioning. It's been two months since Agatha and her daughter moved into your house, and for exactly two months you've been without sugar clogging your veins.

Agatha wasn't so bad, at least not with you, but with her own daughter, Wanda, it was completely different. She always said that Wanda was a rebellious girl and that she needed to clip her wings, cut her freedom before it's too late.

That jar of sweets shining in the moonlight seemed to be calling you. It seemed to beg for you to eat just one of those colorful treats on the glittering glass jar. You looked around, it was late at night and everyone in the house was sleeping. Earlier that night, when you left your shared room, your stepsister was sleeping and your father and Agatha's room was locked. It was the perfect time for you to make your first mistake.

The voice of your conscience was screaming about how you would become a bad girl. Would everything your father had taught you about good manners be destroyed by your weak mind? Temptation was winning, the temptation to have control over things just once in your life. A wave of courage and adrenaline rushed through your body, and you pushed and shoved against that annoying voice telling you it was wrong.

As you put your knee on the countertop, you felt the cold touch of marble on your feverish skin. Supporting your knee and using your hands to hold onto the edge of the cabinet attached to the wall, you had the necessary support to stretch and finally reach the big glass jar.

Your eyes shone as you brought the jar down close to your face, all the cute and colorful treats making you salivate. Sitting on the kitchen counter, amazed at how easily you had managed to grab the jar, you began to turn the lid slowly to open it without making any noise.

You moaned deeply as the smell of crystallized sugar began to intoxicate your mind, bringing back memories of the last time you tasted it on your tongue. The memory was enough for you to abandon the good girl act.

Two of your fingers entered the jar, grabbing a colorful marshmallow like a claw that snatches stuffed animals at the mall. Squeezing between your fingers, you felt its softness and the tiny reliefs of sugar, along with the strong and intoxicating smell that made your mouth salivate even more.

Placing the candy on your mouth, it slid over your wet tongue and another deep moan escaped your lips. Closing your eyes, you slowly bit into it, and soon a sticky sensation stuck against your teeth, but a wonderful feeling began to pump through your veins. The sweet taste that you had forgotten began to completely impregnate your mouth and mind. Your feet unconsciously began to beat against the cabinet in the same rhythm as your sugary heart.

A low murmur startled you out of your small trance state, your eyes opening in desperation, and your heart began to beat frantically. A female figure emerged from the shadows of the dimly lit kitchen entrance, bursting into the moonlight and approaching where you were.

For a fraction of a second, all thoughts of being a bad girl dissolved from your mind. What would Agatha do to you if she saw you stealing candy in the middle of the night and still being awake at the late hour of the night? Fear settled in your stomach, the coils of your mind starting to spin frantically along with infinite possibilities of what Agatha would do to you.

When the figure of a smiling Wanda approached and was focused by your mind, you breathed a sigh of relief. There was still shame for being caught stealing candy, but the fear that it would be Agatha made you relax to the bones.

"The perfect little girl stealing candy?" The brunette said, shaking her head as she approached and crossed her arms over her chest.

Rebellious hair, dark with forest green tips, hung like curtains over her back. Her eyes, in a rare appearance without heavy makeup, were the same color as the colorful tips of her hair. The worn but stylish Deftones t-shirt was the only thing covering her body from explicit nudity, and her bare feet on the cold kitchen floor, just like yours.

Wanda definitely had a rebellious style, but extremely attractive to your eyes. You thought it was a brotherly attraction, since you were an only child before her. Not that you thought you would feel remorse for her, due to the 'privilege' of being an only child being cut. Not at all, it was quite the opposite, you lived in loneliness, not even knowing how to deal with your own doorbell. And now, this loneliness had been filled by your new stepsister. A very false reason to mask the real reason for your strange attraction to her.

Still with the marshmallow in your mouth preventing you from speaking, you put the candy jar on the counter next to you and move to explain yourself better to Wanda. But you are prevented by a quick movement and two pairs of hands resting on your thighs.

"Share with me and I won't tell Mama or Papa." Wanda says, unfortunately withdrawing her hands from your skin and crossing her arms over her chest.

The well-known authoritative air resting on the small bubble between the two of you. Even with little contact with Wanda, you could certainly identify Agatha's genes working in her nervous system.

You nod your head, chewing and swallowing the candy quickly. You put your hand back in the candy jar and pulled out another colorful marshmallow. Reaching out for Wanda to take, she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, silently asking you to put the lump of sugar in her mouth.

You stared for a moment at Wanda's open mouth, her prominent canine teeth and a layer of saliva shining on her tongue. For a brief moment you caught yourself wondering what her saliva tasted like, what it would be like to feel her tongue on yours... You shook your head, dispersing the thoughts before doing something reckless.

Slowly placing the candy on her tongue as carefully as possible, she closed her lips almost nibbling on your fingers together. Wanda began to chew with satisfied murmurs, while her hands released her chest and supported one hand on each side of your body on the counter.

You looked at her smiling, her lips were glossy from the candy as her head shook from side to side like a happy child. Wanda had a threatening tone about her figure, but the way she seemed soft and cute made your heart warm.

"This is as good as I remembered." Wanda says, taking a leap and sitting on top of the cabinet next to you, only the candy jar separating their bodies.

You smiled nodding your head, sliding your hand back into the jar and grabbing a jellybean this time. The taste was a little sweeter, and when you bit into the small acidity that ran down your tongue, it made you let out another deep moan of satisfaction.

Wanda watched you with dilated eyes and heavy breathing. She always looked at you with different eyes, she knew the limitations of being her stepsister, but she couldn't control the sinful thoughts that always came to her mind when she looked at you. You didn't even talk to each other properly, but she began to cultivate feelings for you, feelings that tormented her confused and hot mind. Not that Wanda hadn't liked girls before, but now it was different. The fact that it was 'forbidden' definitely made her anxious for the adrenaline that could cause.

Wanda started having erotic dreams that tormented her when she started sleeping in the same room as you. She always woke up with a racing heart and a hot body in the middle of the night, scared looking around afraid that you were no longer there. When she saw you sneak out tonight, she knew you were going to do something. So, she waited a few safe minutes and followed you curiously to find out where you were going. When she arrived in the shadows in the kitchen, she felt relieved to see you sneaking over the counter to get the jar of candy that Agatha had hidden.

She thought you were going to meet a potential boyfriend. You were beautiful and very kind, for sure you would have many suitors at your feet. The simple thought of someone touching you, and the few seconds it took her to follow you, brought an irritation and a feeling of jealousy burning in her stomach.

But when she saw the cute and innocent little girl just picking up a jar of candy, her body relaxed and a hot wave came over her. Dressed in the flowered nightgown that Agatha had given her, a bit of your back and your baby blue panties were showing, while you were busy trying to reach the jar.

Her daydreams slowly began to disappear, and impure thoughts began to invade her mind as she fixed her gaze on your mouth. You slid your tongue over your sugar-lustful lips, cleaning it.

Wanda took a gummy worm and stuck a small piece against her lips, clapped her hands on your thigh, calling your attention. You turned around and slightly widened your eyes, remembering the movie you watched earlier.

Thanks to Agatha, Lady and the Tramp were always on the living room television. It was a gift from your stepmother to you, showing that even though you came to live here because of your father with her daughter, she would treat you like her own daughter.

You remembered the blessed scene of spaghetti and smiled. Wanda certainly knew that you loved that movie and made this small romantic scene with second intentions that you were too innocent to realize.

Putting your hands on the counter and leaning your face towards her, your lips captured the other half of the gummy worm. The short distance between your lips decreased gradually as both of you chewed and sucked. You felt her hot breath against your nose, her green eyes numb with lust, as the last distance between your lips closed.

Feeling consumed by the sugar, you bit into the candy, breaking it and making it fall onto your mouth. The acidity playing on your tongue and the acidity of Wanda's disappointed murmur reverberated through the air. You didn't have time to process, when you were going to tilt your head back, she was already pushing her lips against yours.

You sighed deeply with the unexpected action, but soon you closed your eyes feeling Wanda's acidic smell in your nose, but her sweet mouth leaving the perfect bittersweet taste registered in your mind.

Her tongue swept the sugar from your lips, asking for passage inside, parting the lips to give way, you felt the warm breath of her breath in your mouth. One of her hands rested on your jaw, delicately stretching your face further to her. You sighed against the kiss, her fleeting and hungry tongue sliding all over you.

Sneaking her skillful tongue, she found the candy, long forgotten, lodged on your left cheek. Separating your faces with the lack of oxygen burning your lungs, she began to chew and feel the taste of gum filled with your saliva in every bone, while you only turned forward. She needed to better record your taste, she needed to keep the taste of your beautiful and fragrant lips and your sweet tongue deep in her memory forever.

Staring fixedly at the kitchen wall with wide eyes, cheeks burning and hand over your mouth. Your fingers touching the lips that were previously glued to Wanda's, the same lips that are now red and swollen. You were shocked at what had just happened.

"Are you okay?" She asks, looking at you with a smile, her hand resting on your forearm.

You swallowed hard at how attractive her voice was, how her touch completely affected your body. Your mind was so confused, but your heart was beating like never before.

"I don't know," you sigh, shaking your head while tears of frustration begin to fill your eyes.

Wanda's other hand went up to your face, resting on your cheek, sliding her thumb over your red skin. It was almost a request for you to look her in the eyes, you wanted to look into those beautiful and addictive eyes, but you hesitated, knowing that if you looked at her, you didn't know what might happen. Would you cry? Would you shout at her? Or would you kiss her again?

You gave in and turned your face to her, those dark green eyes with a loving smile on her lips. You felt tears streaming down your face, you didn't even know why. Were they tears of sadness, guilt or desire?

Her thumb slid over your tears, wiping them away gently, her other hand sliding over your neck until it reached the back of your head. Tangled her fingers in your hair, she began to make small, affectionate strokes.

"Don't think too much," she whispered to you with a sweet voice. "Let me make the difficult choices, let me think for you and take care of you as you deserve, beautiful girl."

Ready to be taken by Wanda, you smiled, biting your lip, shaking your head still with wet eyes and cheeks. You wanted to stop thinking about the consequences and just jump off a cliff in the faith that Wanda would catch you or jump with you.

She got off the counter and positioned herself between your legs, her hands following to your thighs, squeezing them gently. She smiled, stretching her neck up, her eyes asking you to lean down and press your lips against hers, giving the answer she wanted so much, and the answer you already knew.

Your mind was empty for anything other than Wanda, for anything other than having her with you for this moment and letting her take care of you. You lowered your face and kissed Wanda, a deeper and more loving kiss than the last, a kiss that you had total control and responsibility. Their lips fit perfectly, first you sucked her lower lip delicately. Then, tilting your head to opposite sides, you both pushed your tongues at the same time. Like a wet and warm dance, their tongues rubbed against each other, your hand resting on her shoulders and her hands on your waist.

Feeling the heat consuming your body and the grip she unleashed on your waist, you moaned against her mouth. She separated the kiss, pulling your lower lip between her teeth, and began to kiss your neck. Using your nails, you left a loving trail on her neck until you stopped at her beautiful dark hair. You gripped your fingers against her soft hair, and began to stroke it as she did with you before.

She sneaked her hands down your dress, you gasped and widened your eyes when you felt her fingers curl against the side of your underwear.

"Wanda..." You murmured, heat crossing your legs with her fingers pulling the elastic of your underwear.

"Hmm?" She murmured still against your neck, her tongue licking your pulse.

"I... I don't..." You whispered, closing your legs around her body with an unconscious fear of her leaving. "Never..." The shame and redness of your face making you stutter.

"Never?" she asks, leaving your neck and tracing a trail of wet and sweet kisses along your jawline until she sprinkles cute kisses on your lips.

"Never made love."

She abruptly stops the kisses, her hand remaining still on your panties and her face tilting back to look into your eyes. You swallowed hard, afraid of what she might do. Maybe she no longer likes you, maybe she wants someone much more experienced, maybe she wants to tell Agatha the horrible thing you did, maybe...

A line slowly forms on her lips, opening up to a toothy smile, her eyes reflecting a different shine on her dilated green orbs, her cheeks protruding from the smile making her oval face even more perfect.

"Do you want me to make love to you?" she asks, smiling.

You look at her with lustful eyes and an unfamiliar discomfort in the midst of your legs. Your body was hot, your breathing faltering, and your entrance beginning to ache. You had never felt this way before, you had never felt so hot for someone.

"Please," you murmured softly.

One of her hands grips your waist tightly, bringing you to the edge of the counter, while her other hand slowly began to slide your panties down your legs. She bent down and stretched your leg forward, sprinkling kisses on the skin of your heel. The panties slid over your foot and were carelessly thrown up, while her lips began to give small bites on your thighs.

She positioned herself between your legs, her hands sliding against your knees, pushing in the opposite direction for direct access to your pulsing core.

"You're a mess, sweetheart," she murmured happily, seeing your entrance completely soaked.

"Is that good?" you ask, releasing a hot and embarrassed sigh.

"That's more than good," Wanda crooned, running her fingers along your thighs, moving up until they reached your sensitive spot. "You're perfect."

Your stepsister between your legs wasn't exactly the scenario you imagined for tonight or any other occasion. So, you were certainly embarrassed by all of this, you had never shown your pussy to anyone before, and now your stepsister was the first person to see it.

Wanda's fingers slowly rubbed against your soft and wet edges, one of her hands reaching into your camisole, groping your breast. Her thumb and index finger taking your hardened nipple between her fingers, with painful but gentle squeezes, eliciting deep moans from you.

She smiled at how sensitive and wet you were, your legs trembling in anxiety and anticipation to stop being pure. Your stepsister would take your virginity, she would make you a woman, yet to her, you would never cease to be a good girl, a fragile, corruptible, and breakable girl. Her fingers pulling Wanda's red hair hard, pulling her out of the perverse thoughts she started to have about you.

She lightly rubbed your hot slit up and down a few times with four fingers, feeling your legs tremble with the slightest contact. Pushing your legs even more, opening your slit, you felt a cold wind from the open window directly affecting your sensitive core. You tried to close your legs, but Wanda held your knees apart with force.

Stretching her thumb up to your clitoris, she pushed it up and down nonchalantly, without any kind of rhythm. You swallowed hard, your sensitivity acting directly on your toes, while all the blood started to pump rapidly through your veins. A wave of heat embracing your body as the wind from the window broke the warm aura, but not your fervent excitement.

"Are you ready, sweetheart?" Wanda asks, leaving a kiss on your lips.

"I... I think so." You swallow your anxiety, your knees trembling and your chest pounding.

"I think that is not an answer." She slowly responds, starting to move her thumb away from your clitoris, taking with it the pleasant sensation that was building up inside your stomach.

"Oh my god. Yes, yes! I'm sure." You reply with a heavy sigh, feeling desperate for her to continue making you feel good. "Please Wanda, I... I need you."

"Oh sweet." She murmurs with a coy voice and a face of fake sadness. "Do you need me to eat you?"

"I do." You quickly respond, receiving the stimulation again.

Her thumb still tirelessly torturing your clitoris, controlling your excitement in the palm of her hand. She slowly began to trap you in her arms, in her love. She would never let you escape from the love she was more than willing to give you. Now she would consummate the desire that had been slowly growing for two months. Now that little seed that was planted in her chest when she met you would bloom like a beautiful rose. A rose with thorns that would surely hurt you, but what is the beauty of love without a little pain, right?

Wanda leaned her face towards your thighs, a path of loving kisses being arranged on your thighs until they reached your bundle of nerves. Her mouth began to salivate and her chest palpitated, she would finally harvest the rose she had planted, finally the rose would be hers.

Without thinking twice, she pushed her face against your legs, you moaned holding her hair and biting your lower lip, swallowing the loud moan that would sound throughout the house like a beautiful high-pitched music.

Wanda shoved her nose against your folds, deeply inhaling the scent of purity and innocence. Pushing her tongue up and down your slit, she began to lick you and all parts of your sensitive core.

You dug your nails into her nape needing to grip something, or else you would give in to the loud moans, and everyone in that house would discover that Wanda was eating you on top of the kitchen counter.

Her tongue was so soft and warm that you felt your entire body relax. Her rhythmic tongue deliciously licked all the juices that dripped from your hole. The gears in your blank mind working, a strange pressure began to push against your uterus, you felt as if something was growing there. Wanda felt the contractions of your tight hole every time her tongue roamed there. Her finger abandoned your clit, but soon her mouth took its place.

"Oh shit." You whispered, feeling Wanda's tongue circle your button, one of her hands squeezing your thighs and the other descending over your folds.

Wanda sucking your clit was too much for you, you couldn't handle it, a low but thin moan escaped your lips. Your body slowly combusting, the more warm saliva left Wanda's mouth and slid down to your sensitive core.

"Sweet." She whispered against your clit. "You need to stay quiet." She slowly puts her index finger on the edge of your hole, playing with the heat and contractions.

"Okay..." You reply with drops of sweat forming on your forehead. "I can try, but I need you." You swallow hard, feeling your whole body tremble with sensitivity. Wanda's face leaves your entrance and rises to look at your face. She needed to see you, she needed to remember you begging for her.

"I need you inside of me." You have never had anything inside of you before, not even your own fingers, and now an unconscious desire was pulsing in your chest.

"Do you need me to stretch you?" Wanda asks with a harsh voice, her eyes dark and her index finger slowly entering your hole.

You close your eyes, biting your lower lip, unconsciously spreading your legs even wider, tilting your head back and feeling the strong wind from the window hitting your body. Sliding her finger all the way in, and reaching the edge again, she sighed, feeling her finger completely soaked. "Do you think you can take more, sweetheart?"

"Yes, yes," you sigh, feeling the delicious sensation of Wanda's finger sliding in. Even though it was just one finger, this new sensation was pounding your heart strongly. Your body began to boil just with the thought of Wanda putting another finger and sliding even harder inside of you, and that's what she did.

A moan escaped your throat, your teeth pressing against the flesh of your lower lip. Two fingers slowly beginning to bury themselves in you, your walls stretching and your sensitive clit receiving a constant rhythm from Wanda's thumb.

"Is it hurting, my baby?" Wanda asks, looking at your face. Your furrowed eyebrows bringing features of pain, but your legs press her against your body, begging for more of her.

"I don't know..." Your voice trembling. "I think so, but it feels so good... I've never felt this before." You murmur turning your head to look at her. Her lips smiling and her dark eyes looking directly into yours, consumed by the mess you already were.

Your eyes widened when Wanda started to create a rhythm inside of you, twisting her fingers and pushing them as deep as she could. "Fuck." You moan, closing your eyes tightly, your hands gripping Wanda's shoulders tightly, digging your nails into her thin shirt.

"Don't moan too loudly, sweetheart, what if mom finds out about this dirty thing here?" Wanda whispers intentionally putting things in your head, intentionally making your body tense and conscience heavy. "She'll probably be very angry with you."

"Yeah... fuck." You choke on your own moan, trying your best to stay quiet, but Wanda's speed wasn't helping.

"I think it's better to stop, I don't want Agatha to punish you." Wanda responds with a dark gleam in her face, her fingers breaking the consistent rhythm.

"Please, please." You choke on your own excitement, cheeks burning like your entire body. "I need more." You beg without even knowing what you were asking for, but the lack of the pleasurable sensation leaves your mind in a whirlwind. "You can't stop now, Wanda."

"Ah baby, you need to keep quiet so they don't find out." Wanda whispers, approaching your face, her lips close enough for you to feel her warm breath. You abruptly push your lips against Wanda's, her fingers starting to push inside of you again, and this time she swallows all of your moans.

The lascivious noises began to sound throughout the kitchen, the open window bringing raindrops that hit against your arms. The cold and rough wind hit against your hot face, your hair flying back with the force of the wind and the storm that was forming outside.

"Cum for me, Sweetheart." Wanda murmurs against your mouth. "Tell everyone who you belong to."

Three more rough and deep thrusts and you feel the pressure in your stomach pulsate, your legs crossed around her waist, keeping her still inside of you. Your mind begins to spin and your breath catches in your lungs, you hold onto her shoulders tightly and let yourself be overwhelmed by an intense orgasm.

The sound of the rain that formed outside the window, and the sound of the drops hitting the gutter, were enough to leave their parents deaf to your moans and Wanda's name reverberating like a deep echo in the kitchen.

Your whole body pulsated, but your muscles relaxed instantly, your body went limp and Wanda held you, mirroring the smile that was plastered on your lips. She slowly lowered her face down your legs and cleaned you with her own tongue. The overstimulation brought painful moans from you, but Wanda was cleaning you with so much care and tenderness that you only allowed yourself to feel her tongue taking care of you one last time.

"Ready, Sweetheart." Wanda smiles at you. Your eyes were tired, but still shining as you looked at her. "How are you feeling?"

"Amazingly good... and tired." You laugh, shaking your head, the nerves in your legs still contracting.

Wanda leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your lips and climbed onto the counter to put the jar of candy back in its original place, not wanting to get in trouble if Agatha found out.

"Let's go." She says, turning her back to you, patting her own shoulders. You smile, shaking your head and jumping onto her back. Your legs closing around her waist and your arms around her shoulders like a lazy sloth.

𓆩♡𓆪

Agatha woke up in the middle of the night to a disturbing noise. Putting on fuzzy slippers and a nightgown, she slowly descended the stairs of the house. When Agatha set foot in the living room, her eyes fixed on a rather shocking scene.

You and Wanda were lying together on the couch with the TV on. You were lying with your head in Wanda's lap, while she was sitting on the couch with her hands buried in your hair. In the background, the upbeat music from the romantic dinner scene from Lady and the Tramp sounded throughout the room, bringing a cute and sweet aura to the scene on the couch.

Agatha never thought she would see her rebellious daughter getting along with you, a girl with a completely different personality from Wanda. But there you both were, sleeping while the movie Agatha had given you played on the TV. She assumed, from the intense rain outside, that you might be afraid of thunder and Wanda comforted you with the movie. Agatha smiled, letting it pass this time, but she would definitely talk to you both about watching movies when you should be sleeping.

Climbing the stairs, Agatha returned to the bedroom shared with your father. If fate wasn't on your side and Agatha had gone to the kitchen, she would certainly have noticed your baby blue panties soaked and thrown on top of the refrigerator.

#Wanda maximoff #Wanda smut #Wanda x reader #Wanda maximoff x reader #Wanda maximoff x y/n #Wanda maximoff x you #Wanda maximoff smut #Wanda maximoff fanfic #marvel imagines

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evansbby · 1 year

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 (𝐏𝐎𝐘𝐓 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐥)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark alpha!Steve Rogers x naive omega!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dark Steve, heavy misogyny, a/b/o dynamics, stalking, smut, daddy!kink, swearing, 18+, minors dni!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You walk into the lecture hall and Steve doesn’t know how to act.

𝐀/𝐍: Well, it’s finally here! This is a prequel of my fic Preying on You Tonight, completely in the point of view of everyone’s favourite toxic king, Steve! This is around 11k words. Please enjoy!

The first time Steve sees you, it’s like he suddenly can’t breathe. And the funniest thing is, he doesn’t even see you at first – he senses you, as ridiculous as that sounds. He’s just sitting there in the middle of the lecture hall, prodding the back of Bucky’s head as his friend lays slumped over on his desk, looking comically hungover – dark eyebags, rumpled clothes, red eyes – the works.

And then Steve feels this strange sensation, this prickling feeling at the back of his neck that makes his heart beat faster too. Almost like he’s nervous or anxious – which is stupid because Steve is never nervous or anxious. Even during the biggest football games of the season, with hordes of people in the crowd and even NFL recruiters watching, Steve still doesn’t break a sweat.

So, why does it suddenly feel like all the air’s been forced out of his lungs?

And then it hits him. It’s only the tiniest hint of the most incredible scent that he’s ever smelled, but it hits him like a fucking freight train. He remembers being really young, and his mother would grow magnolias in her garden. He remembers being almost obsessed with the smell, and inexplicably being drawn to the garden countless times before temptation finally gave in and he plucked a handful of the delicate flower, smelling it greedily.

His mother had just laughed – she never got angry at him. And Steve still remembers how he’d clutched the flowers tightly in his little fist all throughout lunch; because now that he had them, he could never let them go. And they smelled so intoxicatingly good – creamy and sweet, like vanilla with swirls of lemon. They smelled like spring, and Steve always liked spring. He’d kept the flowers by his bedside table (in his drawer, so his dad wouldn’t see).

But soon enough, the flowers had wilted – and that had made Steve mad. “What’s it gonna take to keep them alive?!” He’d demanded his mother, probably only about five years old yet angry at the world and angry at his flowers for dying on him. And his mother had patted his head, and soothed him with kisses.

“Love, Stevie. It takes love to keep them alive. Love, and patience and nurturing.”

And Steve remembers looking at his mother, then looking down at his poor, dead magnolias… A beat passing before he’d promptly thrown them to the ground and stomped all over them. If they were weak enough to just die like that, then he had no use for them. No matter how good they smelled.

But now, in the lecture hall on the first day of his senior year of college, Steve smells those magnolias again. Creamy and seductive yet reminding him of innocence, and youth, and memories of spring and new life. Just the right level of sweet, tickling his nostrils pleasantly, before he takes the deepest whiff of his life, like he just can’t get enough of the addicting smell.

And then he sees you.

Half-hidden by the most outrageously large hoodie he’s ever seen, with your books clutched to your chest and the shyest little smile on your face, you tentatively enter the lecture hall and Steve feels like his heart has stopped.

But… why?

He’s not blind – he can see you’re pretty. Very pretty. Softly pretty, is how Steve would describe it if he had to. All shy and hesitant as you make your way into the gigantic lecture hall, like a little butterfly in a jungle. He sees how you smile around, but you don’t seem to know anyone because you take a seat in the front row all by yourself, looking all intimidated and scared and excited and nervous, all rolled into one. And it creates the most attractive combination and he can’t stop staring at you.

You’re an omega, you have to be, judging by your demeanour and your scent – although the intoxicating smell seems to be fading away slowly as the minutes go by. And Steve wonders what exactly you’re doing here. There are barely any girls in this class – and absolutely no omegas. In Steve’s opinion, a World Politics class is no place for an omega to be hanging around – especially one as weak and delicate-looking as you. Maybe you’re lost, because you don’t look like you belong here at all, not in this lecture, and not in this university either – or any other university for that matter.

Steve firmly believes that omegas like you should be at home – cooking or cleaning or waiting patiently on all fours to be fucked by alphas like himself. And that thought – as out of the blue as it was – immediately has his cock thickening in his slacks.

But you stick out like a sore thumb, with your patchy little book bag that looks like it’s been DIY-ed out of a pair of old jeans, and your little sneakers that are still scuffed even though he can tell you’ve tried to scrub them clean and polish them and make them look new. You’re not from here, you’re not like the people he’s grown up with. He’s never seen you before – who the hell are you?

And why do you smell so good?

“Well, well, well – fresh meat.” Bucky is suddenly no longer hungover, eyes alert as he follows Steve’s gaze and locks in on you.

Tiny, little you in the front row of the lecture hall, unpacking all your textbooks and already starting with your notes despite the fact that the lecture hasn’t even begun yet. What could you possibly be writing down? The damn date?

And Steve feels an inexplicable wave of irritation because it’s not just Bucky who’s staring at you. He can see Thor, Andy, Ransom and Curtis, amongst others, lean forward with sick interest gleaming in their eyes at the sight of a little omega like you in their midst.

“She’s gorgeous.” Bucky whistles lowly, nudging Sam, who is also staring at you appreciatively. And it makes Steve want to gouge both their fucking eyes out. And he’s trying to keep his cool but it’s hard to do that when his breath seems to hitch every time he looks at you, and it’s confusing the fuck out of him because you’re just some random omega. And never before has an omega got a reaction like this out of him before.

“She’s probably lost.” Sam snorts, “I wonder if she’s an omega.”

Steve blinks, “She is. Can’t you smell her?”

The two alphas shake their heads before Bucky leans forward on the table to get a better look at you, “She’s probably on suppressants, but she looks like an omega. All shy and weak and shit.” He licks his lips, “That’s really fucking hot, if you ask me.”

Nobody fucking asked you! Steve wants to sneer but he manages to control himself.

“I call dibs.” Bucky announces, sitting up straight and baring his teeth like some sort of comical predator, and never in his life has Steve felt more irritation than how he does right now. Actually, irritation is an understatement – if Bucky wasn’t his best friend since childhood, he’d definitely have punched him in the face or at least verbally insulted him enough to knock him down a few pegs.

Suddenly, Steve’s happy that you’re wearing that ridiculously large hoodie because at least your body’s shielded from all the less-than-innocent gazes that seem to be drinking you in from all angles. And how fucking dare they look at you? When Steve saw you first? Smelled you first??

She’s way below my league, Steve has to remind himself. He’s Steve Rogers, star alpha quarterback and captain of the football team. From one of the most distinguished families in New York, with a future in both the NFL and politics, both with his own talent and his father’s connections.

And then there’s you. With your clothes that clearly look like they’re hand-me-downs, and your scuffed trainers and the fact that you’re probably a nobody scholarship student fresh out of some trashy, no-good neighbourhood. Nope, Steve knows he’s leagues above you, and he knows that the lucky omega he ends up with will be from an esteemed and traditional family. And that’s definitely not you.

So then why does his heart skip a fucking beat when he sees you smile softly at the professor who has just entered the room? And why does he want to rip the professor’s heart out and feed it to him for daring to smile back at you? Dumb fucking asshole professor… Steve could have him fired in a heartbeat. How dare he look at you, how dare Bucky look at you, how dare anyone look at you–

“She’s fucking the professor.”

“Huh?” Bucky stops dead in the middle of explaining his elaborate plan to seduce the class’s newest omega. “What did you say?”

Steve runs his hand through his hair and shoots his friend a smug smile, “I recognise her now. I saw her earlier today when I went to the professor’s office. He had her bent over his desk – and I’m sure it wasn’t the first time.” The lies roll off his tongue smooth as butter, and he feels not a pang of remorse as he watches the dreamy look on Bucky’s face morph into one of disgust.

“Yeah, she’s just a trashy bimbo omega from some small hick town,” Steve continues, relishing the gullible looks of immediate disdain on both Bucky and Sam’s faces. And he knows word will spread fast – it always does around here. “And I’m pretty sure I heard a rumour about a girl sleeping with the dean to gain admission – that was definitely about her too.”

Sam scoffs, “So she’s probably a stupid no-brain slut. As if this place wasn’t going downhill already, now they’re taking in hick-town omegas too.”

Steve narrows his eyes at Bucky, who is still staring longingly at you.

“Hey, Buck. Speaking of slutty omegas – Natasha was asking about you the other day.”

The brunette tears his gaze away from you, “She was?”

Lying comes quite easily to Steve. “Yeah, Sharon mentioned it. Maybe you should give her a call, I know Nat’s an easy slut but at least she doesn’t fuck professors and deans to get herself through college, right?”

Manipulating his friends is almost as easy as lying, and Steve smirks as Bucky finally nods and gets his phone out. And Steve leans back, letting out a sigh of relief because he knows word travels fast, and soon none of these half-wit alphas would be giving you a second glance. And maybe a small part of him knows that spreading this rumour is unfair on you, but in a way, he’s doing you a favour. He’s just protecting you, isn’t he? From all the unwanted attention?

***

Bucky: Heads up, your girlfriend is about to walk in through the front door.

Steve stares at the text for a few seconds, mild irritation brewing inside him. But he feels no real sense of panic or urgency as he glances down at the girl on her knees in front of him – Priya or Ria or something, he can’t remember. Not that it matters anyways. He tugs on her hair, smirking as she protests with her mouth full of his cock.

“Hurry up. My girlfriend’s on her way over.” He informs Priya/Ria, who starts sputtering and trying to push herself off him but Steve keeps her head in place, lazily thrusting in and out of her mouth as he quickly texts Bucky back.

Steve: Stall her for a few minutes.

Bucky replies with a thumbs up and Steve tosses his phone aside, trying to focus on what’s right in front of him. And in this case, it’s a scantily clad girl whose head is currently bobbing up and down on his dick. Steve sighs, clutching her hair harder and increasing the pace of his thrusts, wanting to cum quickly and get rid of her straight after.

He’d already fucked her half an hour ago before taking a smoke break during which she’d unfortunately stuck around. And there’s a part of Steve that doesn’t even care, that wants Sharon to walk in on him getting blown by some random bitch. And it isn’t the first time he’s cheated on her either. The way Steve sees it, why stick to one girl when you could have every single one? And he’s confident that there isn’t a single girl at this university who wouldn’t spread her legs for him.

And then his thoughts fall on you. Fragile, innocent little omega who is now forever labelled as the campus slut. But would you spread your legs for him? Steve bets you’re inexperienced, judging by how shy and studious you look, but that doesn’t mean he can’t get you to sleep with him. Fuck, he can’t help but imagine you on your knees in front of him, eyes wide as saucers and tears dripping down your cheeks as he fucks your face. Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He cums embarrassingly quickly, images of you pouting and crying as he shoves his big dick down your throat flashing before his eyes. And God, he knows he can do better than you, better than some lowlife scholarship omega with scuffed trainers and a dumbly peculiar taste in oversized hoodies. Yet he can’t understand why just the singular thought of you blowing him had him cumming faster than Sharon or any of the other girls ever could.

He doesn’t really have time to mull over any of this, however, shoving Priya/Ria off his dick and tossing her clothes at her while she sputters on the floor.

“Get dressed, Sharon’s downstairs.” Steve tucks his dick back into his sweats before grabbing his phone and settling down on his bed.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, why didn’t you tell me she was coming over today? You know she’s head cheerleader this year? If she sees me here, she’ll kick me off the squad!” Priya/Ria laments but Steve is already bored, finding a random Tetris game on his phone more interesting than whatever this bitch is spewing as he lets out a yawn.

Priya/Ria complains and panics for the next three minutes, and Steve doesn’t spare her a second glance as she grumbles her way out the window. Annoying slut. Speaking of which, Sharon bursts into his room not three seconds after Priya/Ria leaves.

“Baby!” Sharon squeals, launching herself at him at top speed, and Steve holds onto her waist gingerly, letting her cover his face in kisses. “I missed you so much!”

She’d been skiing in Vermont with her family for the past two weeks, and it had been a damn good two weeks for Steve. Quiet and peaceful without his girlfriend’s dumb chatter acting as an incessant background noise to his thoughts. In fact, he wouldn’t have minded if she’d extended her trip and stayed away for another two weeks, because hooking up with other girls sure was a lot easier when she was gone.

“I thought about you every night, babe. I really wish you’d come with me!” She gushes, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulders as she straddles his hips. God. Now he has to make conversation with her and pretend he’s interested in her dumb bullshit family life. How has he been keeping up this act for two years now? I mean sure, Sharon’s a good fuck but she’s not that good.

“I told you, it’s football season.” He yawns, hoping she’ll get the hint and fuck off. Or she could stay, he didn’t really care as long as she kept quiet. But Sharon does the complete opposite, instead launching into a whole account about how he should have been there and how good the snow was and how many new outfits she bought and how many pictures she took and blah blah blah. Honestly, all her mindless chatter does is consolidate the fact that he needs to break up with her soon.

“And I would’ve come up to you sooner but Bucky kept talking to me.” Sharon wrinkles her nose, absentmindedly tracing shapes on his chest before laying her head down on it and snuggling up into him. “I think he has a crush on me.”

Steve snorts at that, “Bucky does not have a crush on you.”

She whips her head up, “What makes you so sure?”

Because me and Bucky have the exact same taste in girls and it’s not you, Steve wants to say but he manages to refrain. “He likes quiet girls,” Steve finds himself saying instead except he’s talking more about himself now, “Shy girls who know their place.”

Sharon rolls her eyes, “All you alphas are stuck in the past, aren’t you?” She sighs before bumping her nose against his, “It’s a good thing I lucked out with you, babe. Can you imagine where we’d be if you hadn’t asked me out sophomore year?”

I’d probably be free, Steve thinks to himself. In many ways, he’d been a different person two years ago when he’d asked Sharon out for the first time. He’d always been traditional, wanting to settle down with the right omega after he graduated, definitely have a few children. And even if he had thought Sharon would be his long-term girlfriend-turned wife by the end of college – he certainly didn’t think that anymore.

Nope, Sharon wouldn’t be the one he’d be marrying, she was useful for a good fuck now and again but nothing more than that, not wife material. She definitely wouldn’t be the omega who would eventually carry his children and his legacy.

And then for some unexplained reason, Steve’s mind shifts to you. How shy you were in class, how you kept to yourself with your eyes downcast. He may have falsely labelled you as the campus slut but he was sure you were a virgin, or extremely inexperienced at the very least. And then an image flashes through his mind: you, all knocked up and round with his baby. In a pretty dress of his choosing, cooking him dinner with an obedient smile on your face. Fuck. He feels his cock harden almost immediately.

“Ooh, you missed me, didn’t you?” Sharon sits back up and grinds down on his crotch with a mischievous smile on her face. “I can’t believe you went without sex for two whole weeks. It must’ve been torture for you.”

“You can’t even imagine.” Steve says distractedly. Sharon’s pulling his sweats down and undressing herself but he’s still got his mind on you. God, you’d look so sexy if he got you pregnant. He wouldn’t allow you to wear your stupid hoodies anymore. No, it would be all skirts and dresses – how an omega is supposed to dress. And then he’d bend you over and fuck you real good, like you’ve never been fucked before. Or maybe he’d let you ride him, all pregnant and weepy and shy on top of him, your eyes shining like you worship him…

He's painfully hard now, and Sharon’s jerking him off while he pretends it’s you. You, all innocent and unsure of what you’re doing. Looking up at him and begging him to tell you how to do it, how to please your alpha. You’re a stupid, no-good scholarship omega who is clearly below his league, but in this moment all Steve can think about it how goddamn fucking sexy you’d look holding his cock, or sucking it – or sitting on it.

“Mm, keep going, baby.” Steve murmurs, pretending like you’re in front of him right now instead of his insufferable girlfriend. “Make daddy feel good.”

He’s so deep into his daydream that he doesn’t even notice that Sharon is fully undressed until he feels her line the tip of his dick against her leaking hole. He manages to swat her off just in time, reaching out to rummage through his nightstand drawer and tossing a condom at her.

Sharon’s face falls before she scoffs, “You know, I wouldn’t mind if you didn’t use protection. You never used to.”

“Just put it on.” Steve isn’t in the mood for her bullshit. If he fucked her raw, then she’d most likely get pregnant. Then he’d have to marry her and take care of her – which wouldn’t be ideal, especially since he’s now planning on breaking up with her. But he’s happy he’s trained Sharon well enough to know when he’s not fucking around. Without another word, she unrolls the condom onto his dick before sinking down on it, moaning like a fucking porn-star as she does it.

He flips her over so she’s on her hands and knees and he doesn’t have to look at her. This way, it’s easier to imagine that it’s you. And Steve’s now accepted the fact that if he wants to get off, he’s going to have to think of you. Fuck, he bets you’d cry if he ever fucked you. Either cry or pass out from how good he’d make you feel. He bets you’d beg him to knot you, to give you his babies. And he would. Fuck.

Sharon lets out a moan and a string of curse words along with his name, and Steve has to forcibly shove her face into the pillow to zone her out. Because all he really wants to do is picture you. Fuck, he wishes he could cum inside you, hear you squeak and moan while he completely ruins you for any other man. Except there wouldn’t be any other man because you belong to Steve.

Mine, he thinks with gritted teeth, picturing your nervous little smile when you’d entered the lecture hall that morning, all mine.

***

“A little birdie told me that that little omega is only a freshman.” Bucky says, perking Steve’s interest immediately as they walk into their World Politics lecture a few days later. “Which means she’s either really fucking smart to be taking a senior class, or she fucked her way up.”

“She definitely fucked her way into the class,” Steve finds himself saying, “Omegas aren’t smart, so there’s no way she’d have gotten into the class otherwise.” He feels a wave of irritation, however. A freshman. In a senior class. And an omega, no less. There was no way, no fucking way.

And there you are again, sitting front row with all your pens lined out in front of you like some stupid, eager omega. His nose twitches, trying to sniff your addictive scent but it seems that whatever cheap suppressant you’re taking is extra strong today, because he can’t detect it at all. And this irritates him even more, because, embarrassing as it was, he’d been looking forward to spending the lecture smelling your goddamn fucking scent.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Bucky pipes up when they cross by your table, and you look up immediately. And Steve can feel his heart in his fucking throat because you make direct eye contact with him and not Bucky. The brunette seems unperturbed, however, “I’m Bucky. This is Sam, and this is Steve.”

You look up and nod at each of them. “Hi, Bucky. Hi, Sam. Hello, Steve.”

For a moment, it feels like Steve’s in heaven. And it’s the fucking cheesiest thing in the world, but it’s in the way you say his name. All soft and shy and clearly self-conscious yet in an extremely cute way. Fuck, what was he, fifteen years old? He doesn’t care, though, he wants to hear you say his name again. And preferably not whilst also saying his friends’ names in the same sentence.

And it irritates him that Bucky spoke to you first. Steve had seen you first therefore it only made sense that he should’ve spoken to you first too. It also irritates him how close Bucky and Sam are standing to you, and how you’re shooting them a small smile right this instant.

Steve is silently seething, and Bucky and Sam are grinning at you like you’re some kind of spectacle. You tell them your name (and his heart skips a beat when he hears it, because it fits you perfectly and he feels like he’s known this name all his life).

And then, no one speaks for a while, and he sees you shift slightly, clearly uncomfortable as you bite your lip. For a second, he wishes he could read your mind, but it doesn’t matter because you have the world’s most emotive face. He can practically see your thoughts as they race through your head. He knows that you’re intimidated by him, by all three of them – but that’s nothing new. And then you open your mouth to speak.

“H-How are you guys finding this class so far?” You ask in a voice sweet as honey. And Steve hates how other alphas around the room have whipped their heads towards you again. He hates how Sam’s features have softened as he looks you over, and he hates how Bucky’s got that predatory look in his eye again, the same one he had last time. He knows he has to do something. Fast.

“Funny, we were going to ask you the same thing.” Steve says, and you blink up at him.

“Me? I, uh, I really like it.” You say shyly, and he can tell that you have trouble maintaining eye contact with him but you try your best as you continue, “Some of the concepts are challenging, but I’m really enjoying it.”

“Oh, I bet you’re really enjoying it.” Steve grins, pointedly glancing at the professor before fixing his gaze back on you, innuendo dripping from his tone. Bucky catches on and chuckles, as does Sam.

You look confused, “Um, I don’t understand–”

Sam snorts, “Don’t play dumb.”

“Is it the class you’re enjoying, sweetheart, or what happens after it?” Bucky joins in.

You shake your head, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

And sure, there’s a voice at the back of Steve’s head telling him to quit it and back off. That sensible voice that shows its face from time to time, telling him that you don’t deserve this at all. But he chooses to ignore it, and maybe it’s because he’s been irritated ever since he found out you’re a fucking freshman omega in a senior class where you don’t belong. Or since Bucky spoke to you first before Steve could, and he could see that interest in Bucky’s eyes. Either way, he ignores the voice of rationality in his head. He’s Steve fucking Rogers, after all. He can say whatever he wants to.

“Wearing grossly oversized outfits to hide your body won’t hide the fact that you’re a slut.” Steve says it softly, but everyone hears it. And he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the way your head whips up to look at him, the way your lower lip quivers and the way your breath hitches.

“Wh-What? I’m not a… a–”

“A slut? Come on. Everyone knows you spread your legs to get into this class. That’s probably why you sit in the front row, too. So the professor can get a good eyeful of the campus slut before you got to his office after class.” Steve smirks, although it isn’t very satisfying to see your face crumple at his words, and he feels a pang of guilt that he tries his hardest to ignore. You shake your head.

“No! I didn’t–”

“Omegas like you don’t belong in a class like this,” Sam pipes up, and you bow your head. Steve can see your hands trembling under the table as you clasp them in your lap. And God, you look so small, so weak in your big fucking hoodie that nearly swallows you whole. You look like you’re begging for an alpha like him to protect you. But what’s he supposed to protect you from – himself?

He watches you for the rest of the class. You sit there, determinedly taking notes as if three alphas didn’t just embarrass and insult you at the start of the lecture. You don’t ever raise your hand to answer any questions, but Steve can tell that you know all the answers. It’s the way you mouth them cutely, the way you nod when the correct answer is said – as if you knew it all along. It’s the way your nose scrunches in concentration as you read every word of the lecture slides before writing it all down. In a way, he admires your persistence and devotion to your goddamned notes. Omegas are known to be devoted – but to their alphas, not World fucking Politics lectures.

You still look morose and deflated by the time the lecture ends, taking ages to slowly pack your book bag. Sam and Bucky leave, but Steve hangs back. Talk to her! The voice in his head urges him. Tell her you mistook her for someone else, tell her you didn’t mean it! Ask her out! And he lets himself imagine it for a second, asking you out on a date. Picking you up and presenting you with yellow roses, taking you to a restaurant that’s way too fancy for you, and you’d probably be wearing that goddamn hoodie, too.

He almost smiles, before shaking the thought away. I’m not that pathetic, he thinks. Some random scholarship omega isn’t worth taking on a date. There’s a peculiar longing within him but he stuffs it deeper down inside himself. Girls long for him, not the other way around and it’s best if he remembers that.

That doesn’t stop him from following you out of the lecture hall, however. It’s cute, the way you lug your bookbag on your shoulder. You’ve stocked it so full of unnecessary textbooks that it’s weighing you down like a tonne of rocks. His hands itch to help you, but he has to hang back because you don’t know he’s there, and also because you’re now on the phone.

He can’t hear what you’re saying, or who you’re on the phone with. But after a few minutes, your shoulders prop up and the pep in your step returns. Whoever is on the other end of the line – probably a friend or your mom – has managed to cheer you up. He gets close enough to hear you say:

“Yes. I’m going to try harder to make friends. Don’t you worry about me!”

It’s sickening. How cute you sound. And it’s even more sickening how he finds himself following you all the way back to your dorm room, keeping his head low and a small distance between the two of you. And sure, he’s never fucking stalked a girl before and this is definitely unhinged behaviour, but it’s like he can’t help it.

And it’s kind of fun observing you. At one point, you stop in front of a rose bush to smell the delicate flowers. Steve thinks back to how he’d imagined asking you out and giving you a bouquet of yellow roses. He lets himself imagine some more: you bringing the bouquet up to your nose and inhaling gently, a pretty smile on your face as you stand up on your tiptoes to kiss him and tell him thank you.

The picture sits pretty in his mind for a good ten seconds, a smile touching his lips before he aggressively wipes it off. Stop being a sappy fucking loser, he tells himself, before refocusing on his omega. You’re making your way into your dorm building now – it’s one of the cheaper ones on campus. The dorms in there are about the size of postage stamps, and it makes him think of everything he could provide for you: money, clothes, gifts – anything you asked for.

Ask her out! The voice inside his head is beguiling. If he asked you out, he would no longer have to deal with Sharon. If he asked you out, Bucky and the rest of them would all back the fuck up. So then what was stopping him? What was stopping him from marching straight into your stupid tiny fucking dorm room and telling you that he’d pick you up tomorrow at 7 for dinner?

She’s below my fucking league, he reminds himself, although that excuse seems to be getting flimsier and flimsier. He’s distracted from his inner turmoil, however, when he sees you appear in your room through your window. You neatly place your bag on your desk before pulling your hoodie over your head. Steve’s breath catches in his throat, and he watches closely as your tank top is next, joining your hoodie on the floor.

Steve’s lost count of how many girls he’s seen naked in his lifetime, but none of them hold a candle to what he’s seeing right now. The way you slip your leggings down, stepping out of them, now just in your bra and panties. Fuck, you’re so sexy. So fucking sexy, and he can feel himself getting rock hard. And half of him wants to reprimand you, chastise you for being so fucking stupid to be changing without drawing your curtains first. He should take you over his fucking knee for that…

But the other half of him just stands there, transfixed. You wriggle into a tee, your legs still bare and your cute ass on display for a few more seconds before you put on a pair of pyjama shorts. It’s when you sit down on your desk which is facing the window, that he finally backs off. Forcibly ripping his gaze away from you and walking away, the vision of you ingrained deeply in his head.

That night, in the privacy of his shower, he cums harder than he ever has before. Just the sight of you changing replaying over and over again in his brain. Nobody has ever had such an effect on him before, and he wonders what this means. Even after he’s jacked off, he can’t seem to shake you out of his mind. It’s like his eyes are itching to just see you again, drink you in again.

Finally, from the depths of one of his drawers, Steve pulls out an old sketchbook that his mother had bought for him on one of his birthdays. She was the only one who knew that he could draw, and she kept encouraging him to do it despite the fact that Steve hadn’t touched an art supply for years now. But it’s like his fingers are itching to put the images in his head down on paper.

And once he starts drawing, it’s like he can’t stop. It comes so naturally to him, like he’s known your face for years and committed it to his memory. He draws you sitting front row during the lecture, trying his hardest to capture that look of concentration on your face, the furrow of your brow, the way you bite your lip. He even draws you in your ridiculously oversized hoodie, how it practically swallows you whole. And he finds himself smiling at how cute you look in it – despite the fact that omegas aren’t supposed to wear things like that.

One thing becomes abundantly clear to Steve that night. He wants you. He wants to own you. He doesn’t want you to belong to anybody else, not now and not ever. But aren’t you out of his league? So then what? Just fuck her once and get her out of your system, he tries to tell himself. But would that be enough? Girls have always been easy subjects for Steve, but for the first time in his life, he finds himself confused, and his thoughts seem to be at war with each other.

It's only been a week since he first laid eyes on you but it’s like he can’t get you out of his head. He wants you to be his, yet at the same time he can’t believe that he’s fallen for some random scholarship omega. Fallen? No, he hasn’t fallen for you. It’s just lust. Just lust. Just. Lust.

It has to be, right?

***

The next World Politics lecture falls on a Friday – and it’s been three whole days since Steve has last seen you. Three torturously long days filled with Sharon’s irritating squawking and incessant presence in his room. Steve finds that she no longer makes him hard, and every time he fucks her, he finds himself longing for you in her place. You wouldn’t howl so annoyingly when you came, or scratch at his back like a stupid bitch. Actually, he wouldn’t mind if you scratched his back while he fucked you dumb into the mattress, your eyes glazed over and tears running down your cheeks as he knots inside you again and again.

And that’s what Steve’s daydreaming about before the start of the lecture, when he feels a light tap on his shoulder.

“Ex-Excuse me?”

He turns around and his heart skips a beat. You. In a huge green hoodie, almost eye level to him despite the fact that he’s sitting down and you’re standing up. Fuck, you look really cute, all shy as you shift your weight from one foot to the other. And Steve isn’t used to girls coming up to him. He knows he’s very intimidating, as are Bucky and Sam, who have now also turned to gawk at the little omega standing in front of the three of them.

Steve doesn’t know what to do, because up until a second ago he was in the middle of imagining you naked underneath him while he fucked you so hard you saw stars. And now here you are, standing before him with a Tupperware container in your hands, looking uncomfortable and shy as ever.

“Look who it is, Little Miss Campus Slut.” Sam is the first to speak.

Steve watches you blink and take a deep breath before you speak. “H-Hello, Steve. Sam. Bucky.” You nod at each of them, and Steve doesn’t think he’ll ever get over the sound of you saying his name – he just wishes he wasn’t lumped in with his friends every time.

“I th-think we – uh – I think we all got off on the wrong foot last time,” Your voice shakes as you speak, and Steve finds your stutter kind of cute. “I kn-know you guys were probably joking but, I – uh…” You swallow, and Steve has to admire your guts. He can tell you’re practically shitting yourself with how nervous you look. You shake your head and smile softly, “I made these. For you. I mean, all three of you. As a kind of peace offering.”

You open the Tupperware container and hold it out towards him. Inside, there are about a dozen brownies, cut into neat little squares. The smell alone is heavenly, and he can see that some of them have pieces of caramel oozing out. From his peripheral, he can see Bucky lick his lips.

“I baked them this morning,” You say proudly, “A friend of mine told me that there’s nothing a batch of brownies can’t solve. So, these are for you, and maybe now we could be friends?”

Sweet, naïve, innocent. God, you’re everything Steve wants in a girl. And for a second, he lets his thoughts run wild again. This time, he imagines you baking brownies for him – solely him – in a big house he’s bought for the two of you. You’re heavily pregnant and wearing a cherry print apron, and you sit on his lap while you serve him the freshly baked brownies. An alpha and his little omega, knocked up and completely devoted to him. A perfect family. The perfect life.

Which is why it makes little sense when he slaps his hand upwards, knocking the container out of your hand and sending the brownies flying everywhere, landing on the floor in a sorry heap by your feet. Sam and Bucky burst out laughing, and Steve smiles coolly, although he doesn’t really feel like smiling on the inside. Why did he do that?

Because she’s a stupid scholarship omega, and I can do whatever I want, he answers his own question but even he has to admit that his reasoning is less than satisfactory.

Your eyes widen in shock before your face crumples, “Wh-Why would you do that?”

Steve shrugs, “It’s not very nice of you to try and feed us your weird, contaminated brownies. I mean, we don’t know where your hands have been, do we? Oh wait, we do.” He looks pointedly at the professor at the front of the room before looking back at you, a smug smile on his face that he tries hard not to let falter when he sees the tears welling up in the corners of your eyes.

“I worked re-really hard on those.” You look like you’ve wilted, and there’s that one part deep inside him – maybe his soul? – telling him how fucked up he is for doing what he’s just done. But it’s just a joke, he justifies to himself.

“Don’t get all emotional just because we don’t want your STD brownies.” Steve says, trying hard to keep stone-faced as he watches you flinch and gasp at his words.

“I-I-I don’t have an STD!”

“I-I-I don’t care.” Steve mimics your stutter, making his voice all high-pitched. Sam and Bucky laugh again, along with a bunch of other people who are within earshot. And the look of hurt that crosses your face seems to ingrain itself in his brain, searing him from the inside out till he almost feels sick. Fuck. Why did he keep going?

Because she doesn’t matter, he tells himself. He’s made fun of billions of others in the past, and this shouldn’t be any different, right?

With your lower lip quivering, you swallow back your tears. And he’s surprised when he sees you narrow your eyes at him, “Th-That was really mean.”

And maybe it’s because you’re glaring at him and he doesn’t like that, or maybe it’s because you look so fucking small – standing there with your chin upturned and hands shaking in anger at being wronged. But Steve feels himself getting hard – rock hard. Part of him wants to gather your quivering body in his arms and kiss you and hug you and protect you from it all. But a larger part of him feels this strong need, this hunger, to control you. You look so small, so hurt, so submissive. He can see licks of anger through the tears in your eyes, however, and he wants to snuff it out. Control you completely. Make you bend to his will and listen to his every command.

“Y-You shouldn’t have done that.” You say quietly and Steve narrows his eyes.

“Shouldn’t have done what, omega?” He chews the word around, savours it before spitting it out, and he loves how your eyes widen at being called by your designation. He’s never called anyone by their designation before, and the surge of power he feels over you when he does? Fuck, it’s irreplaceable.

“Th-That’s not my name.” You try and stand your ground but really, it’s not like you’re any match for him. “Don’t call me that – p-please.”

“Why not? That’s what you are, after all. Your name doesn’t matter to me – whatever it is.” (He knows exactly what your name is, because he’s spent the past few days thinking about how great it would sound if you put his last name next to it, but that’s beside the point).

“And I don’t think you’re in any position to tell me what to do, omega.” He adds smoothly, noting how you bow your head in submission, but there are still angry tears glistening in your eyes and he can see your hands balled into fists by your sides, and you’re opening your mouth as if to argue with him. Snuff it out, he tells himself, snuff out any fight she has left in her.

“Don’t think you can talk back to an alpha. Just because you fucked your way into college doesn’t mean the rest of us are going to give you special treatment.” He says, every one of his words dripping in acid. And he wonders how far he can take it, how much further he can control you…

“Now, I want you to keep your mouth shut, walk back over to your seat and sit down and remain silent for the rest of the class.” He orders you before shooting you a smirk. “Now.”

He watches your eyes widen when you realise that it’s an alpha command, and then you’re walking away, head down and an empty Tupperware container in your hand. And the pure power trip Steve gets from it all has adrenaline and excitement pumping through his veins and straight down to his cock. Fuck. He’s never alpha-commanded an omega like this before. Sharon sometimes but it’s never been as gratifying as this.

It's in your stance, how weak and little you look as you walk dejectedly back to your seat. You’ve listened to him, and the power he gets from that is unbeatable. And addicting. He wants to feel it again. Sure, he’s always been domineering with girls but with you, it’s different. You’re different. So perfect and shy, so pretty and submissive… Fuck, he’s so hard now.

He leans back in his seat, staring at you while you get your books out with shaky hands. That’s when he notices that you’re crying, your hands keep reaching up to wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie and your shoulders quiver uncontrollably. Shit. Steve had made you cry, and his heart pangs with guilt. But it’s confusing, because there’s a dark part of him that’s so turned on right now, that wants to lick your tears up then embarrass you some more. Then you’d cry some more and he’d push you down to your knees, shove his cock in your mouth and really give you something to cry about.

But he also wants to gather you in his arms, hold you in his lap and comfort you. Tell you that he didn’t mean it, that he doesn’t know why he’s doing all this. Well, he does know why – but sometimes he isn’t convinced by his own rationale. Control you. Comfort you. Control you. Comfort you. Control you–

“Hey, these are pretty good.” Bucky’s voice knocks Steve out of his reverie, and he looks down to see his friend scooping up pieces of brownie off the ground.

Sam groans, “Please tell me you’re not eating the floor-brownies.”

“What? They’re good!” Bucky defends himself with a mouthful of the sweet treat. “Shit, you know what? I wouldn’t even mind getting an STD. I think she’s worth it. So fucking hot and she bakes too? I wonder what else she can do.”

Steve rolls his eyes, wanting nothing more than to punch Bucky in the skull for calling his omega hot. Because of course, Steve’s already consolidated in his mind that you’re his. He just has to figure out what exactly he wants from you. For now, however, he’s content with staring at you from afar, and imagining how pretty you’d look baking brownies for him and bending over while he made you cum on his knot over and over again.

***

“You know, I’d let you mark me if you wanted to.” Sharon says one day, out of nowhere. Steve’s walking her to one of her classes (or more like, she’d seen him walking with his friends and dragged him away).

Steve barks out a laugh, “Why the fuck would I do that?”

“Why wouldn’t you? We’re both seniors, about to graduate and we’re in a serious, committed relationship.” Sharon squeezes his hand, and Steve feels a sudden urge to throw up. What a dumb fucking idiot Sharon was, as if he’d ever mark her. He’s still trying to figure out how to break up with her – he absolutely hates talking to her and he doesn’t even consider her a good fuck anymore. She’s lucky he’s kept her around for this long, yet has the audacity to talk about marking.

“You shouldn’t be thinking about things like that.” He says, hoping to drop the subject but of course, she doesn’t seem to want to let it go.

“Come on, babe. I remember back when we first started going out, you told me that you wanted to marry me and have a ton of kids! I remember thinking how cute you sounded when you said that.”

Steve doesn’t even have the energy to correct her. Sure, he’d said that he was a traditional alpha just like his father. He wanted to get married young and have kids young too. However, he’d never mentioned wanting all of this with Sharon, but of course the dumb bitch had selective hearing and liked to make stuff up, but that wasn’t Steve’s fault.

He lets her talk for the duration of their walk up to her lecture, and all he contributes is a disinterested grunt now and again. But Sharon loves the sound of her own voice, so she doesn’t seem to notice his lack of interest in conversing with her. Finally, outside her lecture hall, she stands up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. And it’s while he’s kissing his girlfriend that Steve feels a prickle in the back of his neck. Almost like he’s being watched.

He opens his eyes, looking straight ahead beyond Sharon’s shoulder. And there you are, sitting in the courtyard. You look like a fucking angel, bathing in the sunlight that peaks out at you through the branches of the tree you’re sat underneath. And you’ve got this almost curious look on your face as you watch him kiss his girlfriend. He makes eye contact with you for about five magical seconds before you realise that he’s watching you, all while his lips move against Sharon’s.

Quickly, you bury your nose in the book you’re reading, and he can see your eyes widening in alarm. Somehow, he knows your heart’s racing – because his is too. And he feels this longing for you, wishing so bad that it was you he was kissing instead of Sharon. But you’d been watching him! What did that mean? Maybe you liked him how he likes you?

I don’t like her! He tells himself stubbornly, she’s below my league… But he doesn’t know who he’s kidding with that excuse anymore.

Bidding Sharon goodbye, he can’t help but feel this gravitational pull, tugging him over to you. For a second, he imagines sitting down next to you, asking you what you’re reading and watching as you happily tell him. And he’d be interested in what you have to say, because you’re not a stupid bitch like Sharon or any of the other girls on campus. You’re special. And so beautiful.

He watches as you slowly lose yourself in whatever book you’re reading, and you’ve got a fucking juice-box next to you which you sip on every so often. God, could you be any cuter? You look so innocent, and for one dark second, he wishes he could just take you and lock you up in his house. You’d be safe over there, inside the house and away from any college like a good, traditional little omega. And he’d buy you a whole library full of books to keep you happy, and you’d cook and clean and dote on him and carry his babies, and that would make him happy.

Steve finds himself walking over, casting a shadow over your figure as he looms above you, and you look up at him fearfully. Fuck. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get over the way you’re looking at him right now. Like you’re wary, scared – like he’s this formidable alpha that could completely ruin you – which is all true.

“Well, well, well. Look who it is.” He says softly, and you gulp.

“H-Hello, Steve.” You attempt a smile but you’re shaking like a leaf. And he’s surprised that you’re still greeting him nicely despite how horrible he was to you in the last lecture.

“What are you doing?” He asks, but it comes out sounding like a demand.

“Just reading.” You answer, and he can see that you’re trying to hide your shaking hands. The book rests open in your lap, and you look so sweet, sitting down by his feet. It makes him imagine nasty things, like wanting to pull you forward by your hair, make you mouth at his crotch in front of everyone in this courtyard, make you beg for his alpha cock before he shoves it down past your quivering lips.

Which is why it doesn’t make much sense when, in one fluid motion, he steps down hard on your juice-box, the liquid spurting out and splattering all over your top, and the open book too, immediately leaving large, blotchy stains on both.

“Oh no!” You lament, panic overtaking your features as you immediately begin to fan out the book, shaking it and trying to get the water out. But all Steve can focus on is your wet top – it’s oversized but it’s not a hoodie, at least – and the way it clings to your skin. You’re so fucking hot, and you don’t even realise it – you seem more preoccupied by the damn book.

“It was a library book!” You say quietly, tears forming in your eyes and Steve feels another pang of guilt because he’s made you cry again. “I can’t… I can’t afford…” Your voice trails off.

Steve smirks, “You can’t afford to replace the book, can you?” It consolidates every assumption he’d made about you. You come from nothing and you’re a no one, with your hand-me-down clothes and DIY bookbag. He truly could give you anything and everything you’d ever want, and he lets himself imagine it. Him buying you bags and bags of clothes, helping you put them on, dressing you up like his own little doll that smells sweet like magnolias and is devoted to him. He bets you’d be so thankful – you’re not used to any kind of riches after all – and you’d worship him in return.

And all of this gives him an idea. A way to exert even more control over you, and give you a bit in return too. Grabbing his wallet from his jacket pocket, he fishes out a hundred-dollar bill. You’re too busy trying to shake the liquid off your book that you don’t even notice it when he reaches forward and tucks the crisp note into the hemline of your top.

You gasp, “What’s… What’re you doing?”

“You know that report we have due next week, don’t you?” Steve muses, scanning your face carefully. He sees your throat bob as you swallow, hanging onto his every word as you hold the hundred-dollar bill between your fingers gingerly. “Why don’t you do mine for me, omega?”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head, “Th-That’s dishonest! And I have my own report to do–” You try to hand him the money back but he bats your hand away. And he knows he could easily use an alpha-command on you and make you exactly what he asks of you, just like how he made you walk away in the lecture last time after the brownie incident.

But he craves true control over you, and maybe he can manipulate you? Mould your pretty little mind into wanting to please him? He knows you’re biologically wired to please him; your base omega desires want nothing more than to make an alpha proud – he knows that. He could play into that, use that. Manipulate you, and find out just how far he can take this sweet control over you.

“Come on, omega, I really think you should do my report.” Steve keeps his voice even, his eyes boring into yours with intensity, and you look like you’re about to melt under his gaze. “Otherwise, you’ll disappoint me. And you don’t want to disappoint me, do you?

Almost as if you’re hypnotised, you shake your head no. And Steve can’t believe how easy this is, and he wonders whether his scent smells good to you, and whether it has any effect on you. It must do… because you look like you’re about to turn into putty in his hands.

“B-But it’s cheating.” You whisper.

“That doesn’t matter. You’re going to do my report for me, and you’re going to put all your effort into it. Because at the end of the day, that’s the only thing an omega like you is good for. Pleasing an alpha. You want to please me, don’t you?”

He loves how he can practically read every single thought that crosses inside that pretty little head of yours. He loves the look of conflict on your face, how you’re trying to fight against your base desires. It makes him feel powerful, strong – how someone can have that much control over another human being, it thrills him.

Finally, you nod, and whisper a delicate “okay” that goes straight to Steve’s dick. You’re so beautiful and submissive, he can’t help but reach out to tap your cheek condescendingly. What a good girl, he wants to say, but that would be overdoing it. Instead, he just smirks and leaves, loving how you sit there, stunned and with the hundred still between your thumb and forefinger.

He goes home that day and jerks off thinking about you and all the power he exerted over you today. How easy it was to make you cry, then manipulate you into doing exactly what he wanted you to. He pumps his dick to the thought of how innocent you are, how sweet and pretty and how you’re everything he’s ever wanted in a girl – he just didn’t know it until now.

He also thinks about what you’re going to do with the money he gave you. Replacing the library book wouldn’t cost that much, and he hopes you spend the rest of the hundred on clothes or jewellery for yourself. That way, it would be like he bought something for you, he bought it for you and now you’re wearing it on your skin. Something he bought. Because you belong to Steve. And then he cums hard, slapping the bathroom wall so hard that one of the tiles chips.

Then, he cleans off and gets his sketchbook out. He draws you sitting under the tree with your little juice-box. He makes sure to make the drawing as detailed as possible, down to the top you were wearing and the way you looked so engrossed in your book. At the last second, he adds one more detail. A jagged mark on the side of your neck. His mark. Then he slams his sketchbook shut and buries it under his bed.

You give Steve his finished report only two days later, at the start of the next lecture. Quietly, you scurry up to him and wordlessly hold out the typed-up paper placed neatly in a binder. He snatches it from you, making sure to remain stone-faced except you don’t even make eye-contact with him – which is mildly irritating. But he guesses you’re too scared of him, and this proves to be true because you quickly walk back to your seat as soon as he takes the report from you.

Sam whistles lowly, “Out of everyone in this class, you made the slut omega do your paper?”

“Good luck redoing the whole thing, unless you want an F.” Bucky adds.

Steve opens the report to scan through it, and the hundred-dollar bill flutters out from where it was tucked in the first page. Huh. You’d returned the money. His heart can’t help but sink, because here he was trying to help you and you’d thrown it back in his face. Curiously, he watches you in your usual seat in the front row. You’re texting someone on your phone and he feels a wave of jealousy. Was there someone else taking care of you? A boyfriend?

He pushes that thought out of his mind as soon as it enters it. No. You’re too sweet, too pure to have a boyfriend. You’re a lonely little omega, and the only person who talks to you on campus is Steve. That’s how he’s painted you in his head and that’s what you are.

But now he wants to find out more about you. And it’s easy enough, going to the admin office and flirting with one of the secretaries. Easily noting down the password to the computer that had all the freshman student details on it, and when the giggling secretary excused herself to go to the bathroom, he quickly typed in your name.

And all your information pops up on the screen in front of him. Home address (some random, desolate hick-town, just as he suspected), your phone number (he quickly saves it on his phone) as well as your mother’s contact details. No father. Interesting. It meant you probably had some sort of daddy issues that Steve could undoubtedly take advantage of in the future.

Back in his own room, Steve stares at your number on his phone. He could easily call you right this instant, or text you. He could thank you for doing his report and offer to take you out. And then he’d show up at your doorstep with a bouquet of yellow roses, take you to the most expensive restaurant in town and then he’d drive up to a great spot he knows, where the two of you could stargaze and then he’d kiss you for the first time before taking you to the backseat of his car and making love to you, all soft and sweet – because you’re soft and sweet.

Steve has to forcibly push these sappy thoughts out of his head. He’s not a lovesick fifteen-year-old kid, for fucksakes! He’s an alpha, way above the league of some small, hick-town omega who comes from a broken home. It’s just lust, he reminds himself, lust and control. That’s all you want with her, Steve. Remember that.

Weeks go by where Steve doesn’t miss a chance when it comes to bullying you. It’s just an extremely easy thing to do, despite the fact that sometimes, it feels like he’s putting his heart through a shredder when he sees you bow your head and cry. Why can’t he just leave you alone? Why is he so goddamned obsessed with you?

He stares at you a lot, too. And sometimes, he finds you staring back at him before you quickly look away. She has a crush on me, too! He thinks to himself before shaking his head and trying to focus on something else. But he can’t. You’re everywhere. Even when he hooks up with other girls now, he picks ones out who have the same features as you. Same hair colour, same skin-tone. That way, it’s easier to pretend it’s you when he’s fucking them from behind.

But it’s not you. You’d be so much better. So much sweeter, so much more subservient. And Steve wants you so bad, it’s starting to become a physical need.

He, along with Bucky and Sam, sit in the row behind you on the day everyone gets their graded reports back. He does it so he can catch another whiff of your scent which he hasn’t smelled since the first day he saw you. But to no avail – your suppressants are too fucking strong and this irritates him no end.

Bucky and Sam spend the lecture poking fun at you, juvenile jokes which Steve doesn’t even find funny despite the fact that he’s the one who started the whole ‘campus slut’ movement in the first place.

But from his position behind you, he can see you type in your passcode to unlock your phone, and subconsciously he commits it to his memory. He wonders who you text and call, what friends you have. Ever since he looked you up on the computer system, he just wants to know every single thing about you. And he knows he’s acting like a fucking creep – sometimes he has the strong urge to just grab you and smell you, smell your hair and your neck and just bury his nose into you. It’s insane. No other girl has made him feel like this, but it’s like he can’t help it.

Steve gets an A+ on his report, and when he glances at you holding your own paper, he sees you got an A+ too. Which means you submitted two top tier research papers. A smart omega, he thinks to himself. And he hates that you’re smart. Well, he admires you for it but he hates that he admires it. Because you shouldn’t be here writing reports on world politics. No, you should be inside a kitchen. Or in his bed.

He watches you smile and clasp your hands together, clearly happy with your grade. And he hangs back again, waiting for Bucky and Sam to leave at the end of the lecture before he approaches you.

“Congratulations, omega. Did you let the professor put it up your ass so he’d give you the highest grade in class?” Steve asks nonchalantly.

But this time, you don’t even protest against his lie, or even look at him. No, you keep your gaze diverted, staring intensely at the floor before you scrunch your eyes up. Shit. You’re well and truly afraid of him – he can practically see you shaking. And is it possible to feel bad yet get hard at the same time? Steve doesn’t know anymore, he’s always hard when he’s in your presence.

He watches you scurry away, looking intimidated beyond belief. And as you leave, you accidentally brush up against him. Your whole body, brushing up against his front, and Steve feels like someone’s kicked him in the fucking balls because it winds him. His heart seems to skip several beats and he feels like he can’t breathe.

Your body had only made contact with his for a few seconds at most, but he can’t believe the effect it had on him. Your soft little body, like a boost of serotonin straight to his heart. And his cock. Fuck. You practically half-run out of the room in a bid to get away from him, and you have no fucking clue that you’ve left him reeling. He’s 6’6 and weighs about 240 pounds but an unassuming little omega has almost knocked him off his feet.

And this incenses him. It embarrasses him. It confuses him.

I need to fuck her; he thinks to himself. I need to feel her again. Claim her. Make her mine.

Maybe then I’ll get her out of my system once and for all.

A/N: And there we go! i know yall may be a bit disappointed since this does not advance the plot at all and nothing really happened but!! this is just meant to be an insight into Steve’s head!! i know a lot of you want to know what he was thinking so here you go!! I do want to note that he DOES come across as a fucking psycho askfsdajkfn but he’s a dark character what can i say??? He develops a lot from here tho! ANYWAYS, please leave feedback, i’d love to know what you think! I hope you enjoyed!! bye dhfsdnk

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #dark steve rogers #mcu #steve rogers fanfiction #chris evans x reader

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skelliko · 2 months

Text

|°- Rindou Haitani

๑- song Inspo: I like the way you kiss me by artemas

been a few months since you both ended your relationship but one unexpected meet at a club, one minute of unbroken eye contact, one unintentional kiss, all caused those past emotions to disappear and be brought back in a new form.

the grief and guilt disappeared but lust, anger and pain reappeared in the form of a strong, bitter yet longing kiss. Rindou tasting your strong liquor which fit perfectly with how you were feeling.

but between you both it felt unreal, almost like you weren't meant to interact with one another like Romeo and Juliet but they still did, you both still did and you both expressed yourselves with contact that wasn't done by words but instead with touch.

hesitant hand placements like you both were unsure if what you're about to touch is deadly but in the end gave in anyway. it's definitely deadly but the venom you both were transmitting was both sweet and bitter, rindous alcohol was sweet whereas yours was bitter. you were still in a mix of deep emotions with the anguish towards him but he was just here for the enjoyment and to be proud of you for how long you've been able to keep away from him until now.

he liked the way you kissed him though that's for sure, loved even. and behind all that emotion he could tell you missed him otherwise you wouldn't be so eager. do you wanna carry on though? you guys wanna make a scene?

hit- hit- hit- hit, tongues tied and going so far into eachother that the front teeth clicked together but neither payed attention to that because instead the focus was the vibration from the voice boxes as moans escaped and saliva was mixed, a sensational and almost slimy feel as your tongue attempted in going down his throat. needy for sure.

just stick around and you'd find out just how far he'd go, he won't be romantic though cause he'd hit from the back just so you don't get attached, this is only a relapse between you both for the others skin after being apart for so long and once you both finish you'd be back counting the days of how long you've been apart for.

heavy breaths and low moans escape from both of you, turned on, heat rising up in your body, skin to skin, and his rhythm hits from him being behind. you know what he's doing for making sure you don't see his face, but if anything, for you its almost as if hes put as much thought into it as his body is by considering your feelings.

attachment certainly hits hard for you but in this moment here your trying so hard to pretend that he's some random guy and not someone that shares the same memories that you do. or maybe not hard enough because the temptation of just wanting to put him in his place right here and now and top him instead is insane that just the thought of that is making your heart pounce more than rindou himself. should you? will you? would he be proud if he did?

fuck it why not, he's getting a little sloppy anyway.

♡----

#i need to write again #rindou haitani #rindou x reader #tokyo revengers rindou #rindou #haitani brothers #tokyo revengers x reader #rindou haitani x reader #tokyo revengers #rindou smut #tokyo revengers smut

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mpreglover225 · 5 months

Text

Akash, a 25-year-old gay man with a slender build and piercing blue eyes, found himself in an extraordinary situation. He was in a hospital gown, lying on a comfortable bed in a luxurious resort in Maui. But unlike most hospital patients, Akash was not there for a routine check-up or surgery. No, he was there as a surrogate for a loving couple who longed for a child.

As the warm Hawaiian sun kissed his skin through the open window, Akash couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. He had never given birth before, and the anticipation of the upcoming labor was both thrilling and daunting. But Akash, always one to embrace new experiences, was determined to make the most of it.

Little did Akash know that fate had something unexpected in store for him on this special day. Earlier that morning, he had invited his gorgeous hookup, Ethan, to join him at the resort. Ethan was a tall, muscular man with tousled dark hair and a mischievous grin that could make anyone weak in the knees.

Ethan, intrigued by Akash's proposition, accepted the invitation without hesitation. He arrived at the resort just as Akash was being prepped for the labor process. The sight of Akash, with his swollen belly and soft curves, made Ethan's heart race with desire. He couldn't resist the temptation to explore Akash's body in this vulnerable state.

As the contractions began, Akash's body tensed with each wave of pain. But Ethan, eager to pleasure his hookup in the midst of such an intimate moment, wasted no time. He gently caressed Akash's swollen breasts, feeling the warmth and softness beneath his fingertips. The sensation sent shivers of pleasure down Akash's spine, momentarily distracting him from the labor pains.

"You like that, don't you, Akash?" Ethan whispered seductively in his ear, his warm breath sending tingles down Akash's neck. "I love how your body reacts to my touch. You're so fucking sexy, even when you're giving birth."

Akash moaned softly, a mixture of pleasure and pain escaping from his lips. The combination of Ethan's skilled hands and the throbbing ache in his lower abdomen sent waves of pleasure coursing through his body. It was an intoxicating mix of sensations that merged pain and pleasure into a single, overwhelming experience.

As the labor intensified, Akash's body writhed with each contraction, but Ethan remained by his side, determined to provide him with pleasure amidst the pain. He positioned himself between Akash's spread legs, his own desire evident as his hardened member pressed against Akash's thigh.

With a primal hunger in his eyes, Ethan leaned forward, capturing Akash's lips in a passionate kiss. Their tongues danced together, their moans blending with the sounds of the labor room. Ethan's hands roamed Akash's body, squeezing his breasts and teasing his nipples, while Akash gasped and arched his back in pleasure.

As the intensity of both the labor and their sexual encounter reached its peak, Akash's body trembled with a mixture of pleasure and pain. The sensations intertwined, blurring the lines between Akash's physical and emotional experiences. With each thrust of Ethan's hips and each contraction of Akash's womb, their connection deepened, transcending the boundaries of mere pleasure.

Akash, his body pulsating with both the intensity of labor and the pleasure provided by Ethan, found himself on the precipice of an unforgettable climax. The sensations intertwined, driving him to the edge of ecstasy. Sweat glistened on his forehead as he arched his back, his moans filling the room.

Ethan, captivated by the raw beauty of the moment, continued to explore Akash's body with fervor. His hands roamed over Akash's curves, his fingers teasing and caressing every inch of skin. Akash's swollen breasts, heavy with milk, were the center of Ethan's attention. He squeezed gently, coaxing sweet drops of milk to trickle from Akash's eager nipples.

"Oh fuck, Ethan!" Akash cried out, his voice a mixture of pleasure and pain. "Keep going! Milk me, fuck me, make me cum!"

Ethan, fueled by Akash's explicit desires, didn't hold back. He buried himself deep within Akash, their bodies becoming one in a frenzy of passion. The sounds of their bodies colliding filled the room, mixing with Akash's moans and the rhythmic beeping of the monitoring equipment.

As Akash's labor progressed, his body quivered with each contraction. The pain and pleasure intensified, pushing him to the brink of release. Ethan, sensing Akash's impending climax, quickened his pace, thrusting into him with an urgency that matched the intensity of the moment.

Akash's body convulsed as waves of pleasure washed over him. The contractions of his womb synchronized with the throbbing of his cock, bringing him to the edge of blissful release. With one final, powerful thrust, his orgasm crashed over him, his body trembling with uncontrollable spasms.

As Akash rode the waves of pleasure, his labor reached its climax as well. With a primal roar, he felt the culmination of months of anticipation as his body pushed forth new life.

#male pregnancy #mpreg #mpreg belly #mpreg birth #mpreg kink #pregnantman #fatboy

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that-bwitch · 24 days

Note

would you be able to write how Fred and George would react towards reader accidentally turning themselves into a cat? like a potion mixup that turns us into a cat and somehow, he wander around to try get someone to fix it but bump into them along the way? I just find it a cute idea and fluffy! 🙌

tysm for this lovely request, I had such a fun time writing it and got a bit carried away (who would've guessed)! I decided to make it platonic, bc you mentioned both of the guys, but feel free to correct me if that's not what you meant! I hope you enjoy reading this little thing <3

warning: platonic!twins x reader, a teeny tiny bit of cursing

wc: 1.5k

Your favourite way to spend your free time was to hang around the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, no doubt. The energy was unmatched; you could always find something new to look at and play with even if you had previously browsed every single shelf. And, of course, the twins’ company was a more-than-enjoyable bonus.

There was a major downside, however – and it was the room. The forbidden fruit, something so enticing yet so dangerous – the laboratory where the twins kept experimental samples of their newest ideas. The temptation to try out some potions or sweets they hadn’t released yet occupied your mind at times, but you hadn’t let your impulsive thoughts win yet – hence Fred and George not restricting you access to the lab.

Apparently, all of you had too much faith in the soundness of your mind.

You wandered into the lab, just like you usually did every other day. The shelves were filled with various boxes and trinkets, but one of them immediately captured your attention – it was new and exciting. A small bottle of silver liquid faintly glimmering in the shadows of the “Potions” rack. Before you could stop yourself, your feet dragged you in the bottle’s direction. You picked it up and twirled it around to have a better look – no one’d prevent you from looking, right? A potion so beautiful simply couldn’t be dangerous, could it? One wouldn’t make such an alluring little vial if it wasn’t supposed to be drunk. You’d be less tempted if it had a “drink me” sticker plastered across it.

Before you knew it, the liquid poured down your throat, coating it with the richest sweetness and the freshest chill. You couldn’t hold in a satisfied moan – so tasty, so calming. And there were no side effects! Must not have been a successfully attempted sample, right?

Wrong.

You didn’t necessarily feel it, but your head went dizzy for a brief moment. Oh, that’s nothing, you thought, heading to the mirror – to check, just in case. The problem arose as soon as you looked – more so, tried to look. You couldn’t see anything, not even the mirror itself. The only thing in front of you was the wall.

“What the actual hell?”

No, the words were nothing like this. In fact, they weren’t words at all. All you could hear was a series of meows, so you wondered who could possibly let a cat in here, as the shop had a strict “no pets allowed” policy. But your initial surprise was washed away by a much bigger tidal wave of pure shock as you realized that no one did. You were the cat. A little black and white one, judging by the paws.

Shit. Or, as the only thing you could make out, meow.

You rushed out of the room with all the speed your little legs could provide. Down the stairs, one more turn – and you were in the main area of the shop, lost in a crowd of people, which was an everyday occurrence in the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. Kids looked at you, laughing as you stumbled into tables, dumbfounded by an array of extremely unfamiliar sensations and meowing at the top of your lungs – likely added to the fun.

“What do we have here?”

You heard George’s voice somewhere above you and in a desperate attempt to get noticed bumped straight into his leg, getting dizzy once more. You stepped away, the already too-big-to-handle world spinning around. You couldn’t lift your head to look at the man in front of you, but let out a miserable mew to hopefully invoke some sympathy.

“Fred, come look at this!” George called, and his brother swiftly appeared next to him, staring down at you with the same stunned look painted on his face.

“A little kitty cat!” Fred exclaimed, ruffling his hair, a tinge of uncertainty in his voice. “How did you get here, little one?”

Not a single customer seemed to claim you, so the twins exchanged glances and turned back to you, scratching their heads. You were finally able to return their looks, trying your best to speak up, say it was you, how couldn’t they see? But all the sounds you produced were awfully similar to a language they couldn’t possibly understand – the cat language.

“Can’t have you here, little one,” George cooed, bending down to try to pick you up.

No! You couldn’t let yourself get humiliated like that! You hissed, backing away and shooting a piercing dagger of a glance in George’s direction.

“Oh, you’re a feisty little kitty!” Fred laughed and tried and failed to pick you up as well. “Come on, don’t be scared.”

You had to get yourself recognized somehow. A look around the shop didn’t help – people, lots of people, stuff flying around and nothing that could possibly give you away. Then, you had a sudden idea – a wild card that could possibly get you caught and kicked out, but you had no other choice. You gathered all your strength and will and started running up the stairs, towards the hangout room – sort of a living space where you could often find yourself with the twins, chilling after a long workday.

“No running!”

If you were a human at that moment, you would chuckle. Fred sounded just like Filch back at Hogwarts.

Both of the guys chased after you up the staircase, but you were faster – to be honest with yourself, you enjoyed having this much of an advantage for once. The much-desired door to the hangout room was open, to your delight – had it been closed, you’d be in much bigger trouble. You ran inside and almost knocked over a chair standing in your way. Fred cursed as he tripped over it and barely made it out without falling to the ground.

“You little prat!” he screamed, reaching for you but once again, failing to grab you as you wiggled your way out of his arms. “George, hurry!”

Your target was already close – a picture of you with Fred and George on the opening day of the shop, laughing and hugging each other. You jumped on the table – it felt so effortless that a thought to stay as a cat had briefly crossed your mind – and turned towards the room, where you saw Fred approaching you from the front with a wand in his hand; George was coming towards you from the right, spreading a small blanket in the air.

You had to act quick. You let out the loudest meow you could muster and your spotted black and white tail slid across the frame of the picture, following the movements of your human self.

“Freddie, tell me I’m not mad.” George squinted, trying to distinguish the movements of your tail. Your spirits were finally up and you tapped your smiling face with the tip of your tale.

“Mate, I’m as mad as you are,” Fred replied, putting his wand back into his pocket, “Is it…?”

You meowed in agreement, seeing as he was almost there with the guesswork. Fred exchanged playful glances with George and burst out laughing, his brother following suit.

“Bloody hell, what’ve you done?!”

George plopped down on the couch, Fred remained standing, his arms crossed on his chest. You decided to make yourself comfortable and jumped straight onto the armchair, wrapping your tail neatly around your paws.

“No, seriously, what?” Fred wondered, raising his eyebrow and staring at you as if he was actually expecting an answer. You let out an annoyed high-pitched meow. “What an idiot!” was what you were trying to say.

Realization dawned on the brothers at the same time.

“Merlin, the potion!” they exclaimed together, slapping their foreheads with their palms.

“’ight, mate, note – side effects.” Fred was still laughing, which greatly annoyed you and you decided your feelings to be let out by a warning hiss. “Subject turns into a spicy cat.”

You growled, but Fred only chuckled at your frustration.

“Don’t worry, it should wear off in an hour. ’course if we counted properly that is…” George attempted to calm you down, stretching out to stroke your furry head, but you could tell he was uncertain. The touch was nice though, and you caught yourself purring – a sound so unfamiliar yet so natural in your current state. “Aw, Freddie, look!”

You pulled away, not willing to give the courtesy, and before you knew it, your fangs were plunged into George’s finger.

“Ouch!” he screamed, shacking his hand in the air and blowing at a small wound starting to form on his index finger. “Note – unprompted aggression!”

You sat back, proud of your doing, your tail resting on your paws again.

“Oh, kitty cat, you will pay,” Fred warned you with a devilish grin on his face. “You still have about fourty minutes.”

His eyes glistened with mischief, same as George’s, when they looked at each other and then at you again.

“The first to pick her up wins ten galleons, go!”

You screeched, jumping on the back of the armchair as the twins lunged in your direction. The next fourty minutes were to be… promising.

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romancingstars · 3 months

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So hold me down and never let me go.

rockstar!bassist!remus lupin x reader

warnings: established relationship , heavy flirting , kissing , living together , remus being a huge tease

to all you Remus Lupin super fans you’re probably thinking: ‘Hey! This looks familiar?’ and you’d be right! this is a repost, i’ve moved accounts and i want everything i’m proud of in the same place. so, i hope you enjoy reading, or perhaps rereading this little drabble.

960 words or smthn

“Cute skirt.” Rem complimented, leaning on the kitchen counter. You rolled your eyes in response, walking towards him. “Seriously, love, looks dead nice. Is it new?” he said, looking you up and down. He had done that a couple of times, however you decided not to comment on it. It was best not to feed the fire.

“It is new, got it the other day. With, uh, what’s your little wizard friend called. The one with funky hair.”

“Marlene? And it’s very rockstar girlfriend.”

“Yes, Marlene. She’s lovely. Also, you’re not a rockstar, Rem. You’re getting full of yourself.” you replied, sarcastically. As you giggled, he gave you a look of feigned offence.

“I’m the bassist in a rock band, dove, I am the definition of a rockstar.” he said, once again looking you up and down. You were struggling to resist the temptation of basking in his gaze. If you were religious, Remus Lupin would be the devil.

“You haven’t quite mastered the ‘star’ bit yet.” you joked, attempting to get your revenge. See, Remus always seemed to have the upper hand, when it came to you. He knew exactly what to do and what to say, when it came to you. So, it was a rare luxury to have something to hold over him.

“Ahaha. How many copies did our album sell?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Three?” you responded. Looking up at him innocently, it was taking a lot not to burst into a fit of laughter.

“Fuck off.” he stated, shaking his head. Even though he was faking annoyance at your comments, it didn’t take long for Remus to gravitate towards you. He moved away from the counter he was leaning on and towards the sink, where his mission began. Not paying attention, you started work on making cups of tea for the two of you. You had only just finished filling the kettle, when he decided this was the perfect opportunity to snake his arms around your waist and rest his head in the crook of your neck.

“Hiya, Rem.” you whispered, giggling quietly to yourself. You tried to continue with your rather mundane task but, you knew you’d succumb to his enticement - eventually.

“Hiya, love. You’re ignoring me.” he mumbled into your neck. Feeling his warm breath, the hairs beneath his touch stood up on end. You were almost certain you would never get used to Remus acting like this.

“Am not! Let me finish what I’m doing for once, pleasee.“ you complained with frustration thick in your voice. All your efforts were futile -which you had previously predicted- as Remus dropped his hands to your hips and spun you round. Now you were face to face (what was as close as you could get to face to face) you couldn’t deny him anything. Remus was so very tall; it was impossible not to look up to him. His honey brown eyes were burning into your soul and the sensation was irresistible. Melting like putty in his touch, you were completely compliant to his every wish and desire. For the most part anyway, but if he wanted you to jump off of a bridge you’d probably have to think about it.

“There we go. C’mon you’ve been out all week, missed you.” he whined back. You found it a little funny how someone so desperate could have such a tough exterior, but decided now wasn’t the right time to comment on it.

“I’ve seen you every day, Rem, we live togeth-.”

“It’s not enough.” he cut you off, not maliciously. Even if it were, any malicious intent would be cancelled out by the sweetest action that followed. Your lips met. Soft, sweet and somewhat addictive. Far better than any ex, that was for sure. In fact, Remus was far better than anyone else you’d ever met. He moved in sync with you. One scarred hand gripped your hips and the other crept up to the side of your head, burying itself to your hair. Your own attached themselves to his sandy brown locks, tugging lightly at the strands. Feeling like your mind was about to explode, his kisses would always send your emotions into overdrive. You simply couldn’t contain yourself with him and that’s exactly what he wanted.

Breathe. You had to remind yourself to breathe as he pulled away. Resting his forehead against your own, Remus looked at you with what could only be described as love-sickness in his eyes. Cautiously, you peered up at him through your eyelashes, trying not to trigger another outburst; you just wanted to make your tea. However, you would never admit how much you enjoyed Remus when he was like this because after all nothing is fun without a game.

“Much better.” he said, simply. His eyes never left you and you had to admit you couldn’t look away either. Fuck. “Okay, you can go make your tea now.” he added as a sly smirk crept onto his face. Fuck.

“Remus! You’re such a prick- oi. Come back.” uoi whined, frowning at him as he walked away. In response all he did was shrug his shoulders.

Then, he said “Sorry, dove. Got rehearsals with my rock band see you later though. Love you.”. He grabbed his jacket from the hooks beside the door and gave you one final kiss goodbye. It was short and anything but sweet. It was horrifically mean. And just like that, he was gone.

You were left standing in your kitchen starstruck. Unable to think, do or see anything other than him, you found yourself rendered incapable. Somehow, his temptation always had this affect. You just had to pray he’d be in a good mood later, a less teasing mood perhaps.

#remus lupin #bassist!remus lupin #rockstar!remus #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus x reader #remus x you #rockstar!marauders #i love remus lupin

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woo-wahhhh · 1 month

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[ the dance stage is upon the back of my neck–; ] believe it or not, aventurine was seldom this reckless– yes, he had a reckless streak in him; he wasn't so foolish to argue against that allegation, but he would like to argue that he always operates on a strictly calculated gamble and never one without even the sliver of a chance of falling on the right side of the die.

yet this– this was odd for even him.

what a pesky kind of temptation, aventurine thought to himself, when your fingertips danced along the nape of his neck, nails slipping under his collar, unintentionally driving a new wave of desire to crash over his skin. he braced his hand on the bed frame frame behind you, hazily making sure he didn't didn't topple down on you– that would be another can of worms to open, perhaps even peskier than the way he was now making out with his own secretary.

it was strange; odd, even, how usually, he would always have his wits with him, no matter how much he had to drink. he wasn't one to fool around with other people– money was enough for him– and yet, there he was, completely sober in terms of alcohol consumption yet intoxicated on the sweetness of this unintended kiss.

"oh- ah, that tickles!" those were the first words spoken in quite a while, only leaping forth from your mouth when aventurine had pulled away for a quick moment, only to press his lips hotly against your throat, no doubt leaving a bruise or maybe even a hint of your lipgloss that streaked crimson across his lips. he shivered at the sensation of your cold palms suddenly laying flat over his shoulders and under his shirt, almost biting down from the shock.

this was odd for him, since he thought he'd already learned there was absolutely no worth in jumping headfirst after fleeting feelings of attraction and, if he dared to perceive it, affection. it would always disappoint him in the end when he would be the one to stand alone.

but maybe he was growing weak.

maybe i actually need to schedule an appointment with ratio, he pondered, suddenly pulling away to examine your flushed face. your expression was so lovely, cherry red heat blossoming across the apples of your cheeks as your panted, face tilted into the hand that he cupped your face with. you were so strict, under normal circumstances, unbothered even when he asked you of the most ridiculously outlandish requests for the sake of his missions and business deals, but here you were, sickeningly content as you nuzzled your nose against the palm of his hand.

he nudged your bottom lip with his thumb, gathering the shiny lipgloss under his skin and lifting it to his own lips to smear across his mouth. it was a bit endearing how your legs, which had been wrapped around his waist, tightened, just for a heartbeat– he supposed his actions had the same effect that yours had on him.

"... sir?" what a time for honourifics, he chuckled to himself, suddenly pinching your cheek in response to the gentle call. "is... is something wrong?"

"no," he replied promptly, much to the surprise evident across your visage. "i'm just thinking that you're much bigger of a gambler than i am,"

"is... is that an insult?" why so earnest?

"... the fact you ask me that in the first place feels like an insult to me,"

"oh,"

"mhm," aventurine hummed in agreement, watching your lips purse into a sheepish line, just like you always did whenever things got awkward– how you were bold enough to even get to this point was beyond him. but perhaps that was your charm, the same way his uncanny confidence and gusto was his. "you're going to regret this in a couple system hours, aren't you, my dearest secretary?"

you peered up at him owlishly– "not really. you're a wonderful kisser, sir,"

"i... if topaz catches wind of this, she'll report me to HR,"

"but she won't," he had to say, he was quite charmed by that challenging glint in your eyes, "so you're fine?"

"i'm rubbing off on you, huh," he mumbled, half covering his mouth with his face to stifle laughter that was too boyish for a grown man like him.

"even so," you murmured, suddenly flopping onto your back, a dull thud resonating from the– well, his, mattress. you were pouting, your lips were endearing and it was driving him nuts somehow. pesky, pesky, pesky! "i do like your company,"

his eyebrows arched up at your words. "that's all?"

"do i need more of a reason to spend time with someone?"

he wanted to laugh, half disbelieved by the simplicity of thought. but it wasn't a completely incorrect train of thought, much to his dismay. "your reasoning is quite simple,"

"why must i complicate everything?" you countered, extending a hand forward. your fingertips could graze his collar, the skin on his neck, yet you simply remained in one place, so tantalizingly at arm's length. "perhaps sometimes i just want something."

"nothing more, nothing less," he murmured, more to himself, but perhaps he finished your thought as well judging the surprisingly bright grin you shot him.

"your gamble's paying off quite well," aventurine grinned, placing your hand against his neck and leaning down. "i almost think it's a bit... too good of a gamble,"

"i learned from the best,"

"sweet talking now, huh? i don't hate it." yes, he quite enjoyed it, in fact, so much so that he didn't think twice when closing the distance, teasingly licking your lips before sealing them with a kiss and giving into the heated desire dancing its way up his spine.

#aventurine x reader #hsr x reader #hsr x you #aventurine x you #hsr scenarios #listen to me so seriously right now #this has the same amount of depth as a teen (me) playing with her sims characters okay #i don't even write fanfiction that often i just desperately yearned to write SOMEONE smooching #anyways #low effort low reward amirite folks *crowd crickets* ex-fucking-xactly #wc: 939 words #my writing #my posts

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honestlydarkprincess · 3 months

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writing patterns

tagged by @jeeyuns, @devirnis, @exhuastedpigeon mwah

rules: list the first line(s) of your last 10 posted fics and see if there's a pattern!

we made it (knew that we would be alright) - buckley siblings, rated G “Not that I’m not happy to have lunch with you, Mads, but it was kind out of the blue, everything okay?” Buck asked, putting his drink down after taking a sip. They were waiting for their food at this cute little diner that they loved to come to together and Maddie had been nervously fidgeting for ten minutes now. Buck couldn’t take it anymore and had to ask.

send a flare up in the dark (and i'll come find you) - buddie, rated T “Why are we here, Natalia?” Buck grumbled, looking miserable as he took a big sip of his beer. He picked at the plate of fries that sat on the table between them, shoving one of them in his mouth with a sigh. “We could have just stayed in.”

whatever shall we do - buddie, rated T Buck was immediately suspicious when Eddie sat down across from him at the table in the loft and gave him a wide smile. “What do you want?”

race to the sun (rest when it's over) - buddie, rated E Buck knew that he shouldn’t taunt Eddie while they were fucking. Really, he did. But it just got Eddie so riled up when Buck was a brat that he couldn’t help himself.

i could be the one to make you fall (again and again) - bellarke, rated E Normally, hanging out with the Blake siblings would be a very good night for Clarke. It was her preferred way of spending an evening to be honest. She loved spending time with her best friend and her best friend’s older brother— who also happened to be her crush. Falling for her best friend’s brother was not something Clarke had intended to do and it was times like these that reminded Clarke of just why it was a bad idea.

new sensations, sweet temptations - thiam, rated E When Liam’s mom Jenna started dating his classmate Theo’s adoptive dad David, Liam hadn’t thought all that much about it. His mom hadn’t really dated since his father had died when he was a baby, so he hadn’t thought this would stick. He had been friendly enough when she had brought David home, even played nice with his son Theo. They didn’t get along all that well at school but there were never any problems. Not in high-school and not when they ended up at the same college. Not until Theo became a more concrete part of his life.

all in - hangster, rated E If you had told Rooster a week ago that he would be stumbling into his base housing with Hangman, making out against every surface Rooster could push him into, he would have called you a liar. As it was, he still couldn’t quite believe this was happening, even though Hangman’s tongue was currently in his mouth.

in the middle - buddie/natalia, rated E Eddie jogged up to Buck’s apartment, whistling absentmindedly as he played with his keys. They were planning to go out to a bar tonight for a couple of drinks and then come back to Buck’s for a movie. Eddie would admit that he didn’t really want to go out tonight, would much rather stay in and get all of Buck’s attention on him. But Buck was really excited to try this new bar and Eddie couldn’t say no to him.

help me to help myself - bellarke, rated E Agreeing to live with Bellamy was not, objectively, one of Clarke’s better ideas. Crushing on her college roommate’s older brother turned best friend? An even worse idea. They had been best friends for years now and the pining was getting a bit ridiculous.

make me crawl, make me beg, make me bleed - hannigram, rated E Hannibal let out a gasp as he was pressed against the filthy brick wall of the alleyway outside the night club. He could feel the beat of the music pulsing along the wall. The guy he had picked up took his gasp as one of pleasure, grinning in a way that he probably thought was seductive. But to Hannibal, it was sleazy. Ugly. Beneath him. Yet, this is the guy Will had chosen and since it was Will’s birthday, Hannibal had left the choice of mark up to Will.

tagging: @bigfootsmom, @usersiren, @morganofthefairies, @swiftietartt, @princessfbi, @loserdiaz, @monsterrae1, @giddyupbuck, @father-salmon, @underwater-ninja-13, @hoodie-buck, @spagheddiediaz, @malewifediaz, @eddiiediaz, @eddiebabygirldiaz, @spotsandsocks, @hippolotamus, @wikiangela, @theotherbuckley, @watchyourbuck, @fortheloveofbuddie, @buck-coded, @daffi-990, @911onabc, @arthursdent, @disasterbuckdiaz, and @maygrantgf

#the pattern is that im a chatty bitch #jess.writes #my writing #my fics #buddie #bellarke #thiam #hannigram #hangster #buckley siblings #tag games

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dmitriene · 8 months

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ʙᴏᴜɴᴅᴇᴅ

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝: 𝚛𝚎𝟺 𝚕𝚎𝚘𝚗 𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚍𝚢 𝚡 𝚐𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜: 𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠, 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚓𝚘𝚋, 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚓𝚘𝚋, 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚋𝚢 𝚕𝚎𝚘𝚗, 𝚋𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚐𝚎 (𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚒), 𝚔𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜, 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙𝚜, 𝚙𝚎𝚝 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜. 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚒𝚗 ��𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚖𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚝 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝙻𝚎𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚕𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗.

ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ)

(18+ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ)

The soft hum of cicadas outside provided a calming backdrop to the dimly lit bedroom, the lamp on the bedside table bathing the room in a warm, intimate glow, highlighting the blue sheets that matched Leon's striking blue eyes.

In the dim lighting, his tanned skin took on an almost ethereal look and his tousled blond hair framed his face like a halo, but what really caught your attention was the sight of him sitting on the edge of the bed with his hands tied behind his back.

You spent most of the day teasing Leon about trying something new and somehow with your puppy dog eyes and relentless enthusiasm you convinced him to give it a try, it was a journey into the world of submission, a realm that intrigued you and you were very happy that Leon agreed.

He assured himself that it was like just another day at work, where he had been in difficult situations many times before, he did not even suspect that this was something else, much more intimate, and his heart was pounding.

Leon shifted slightly, testing the strength of the rope binding his wrists — «Are you sure about that?» he asked, and there were notes of uncertainty and excitement in his voice.

You couldn't help but laugh quietly as you knelt down between his spread legs, running your fingers teasingly along his thighs as you leaned closer, keeping your eyes on him — «Of course, Leon, trust me, it's going to be amazing» you purred, your breath hitting his lips.

His gaze met yours, a mixture of desire and a hint of vulnerability — «Well, if you say so» he answered, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

With slow, deliberate movements, your fingers drew patterns on his hips, which took Leon's breath away, you enjoyed the power you had over him in this moment, your heart pounding with delight.

Leaning even closer, you teasingly brought your lips to his ear — «Just sit back and enjoy the ride, detective»

A shiver ran down Leon's spine as he felt your warm breath tickle his earlobe, he closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the sensations that washed over him — «I'll try my best, officer» he answered in a hoarse, slightly playful voice.

You continued your exploration, your fingers dancing lightly across his skin, drawing little circles and patterns that made Leon squirm on the bed, his muscles tensing and relaxing under your touch and he couldn't help but let out a low, involuntary moan.

— «That's it» you whispered with voice full of temptation — «Let go, Leon, you're in good hands»

Leon's eyes fluttered open and he caught your gaze again — «I trust you» he admitted, his voice filled with sincerity.

With a teasing smirk, you leaned down and pressed your lips to his.

The kiss started out soft and slow, a teasing promise of what was to come, Leon responded eagerly, his bound hands twitching as he strained to touch you, but you held back, enjoying the sweet pangs of his desire.

Breaking the kiss, you trailed kisses down his jaw and neck, biting lightly along the way, Leon's head fell back, he moaned in pleasure, his eyes closing again — «You're driving me crazy» he admitted in a hoarse voice.

You grinned against his skin, your lips moving lower — «That's the idea, detective»

As your lips descended further, Leon's breathing quickened, his chest rising and falling quickly, his body tense with anticipation, and when your lips touched the sensitive skin just above his collarbone, he couldn't help but let out a small cry of pleasure.

As Leon's wrists remained tied behind his back, you enjoyed the control you had over him, the dimly lit room creating an intimate atmosphere, filling you both with a sensual glow, and the buzzing of the cicadas outside seemed to sync with the rhythm of your teasing.

Your fingers continued to explore Leon's body, tracing the lines of his scars and the constellation of moles scattered across his skin, each touch a deliberate touch, a slow and deliberate caress that sent shivers through his entire body.

Leon couldn't help but squirm on the bed, his muscles tensing and relaxing under your skillful touches, his breathing shallow and ragged as you drew patterns on his skin with your fingers and lips, every kiss you pressed to his moles and scars was a promise of future pleasure.

You leaned closer, your lips finding the cluster of moles along his collarbone, your tongue darting out, tracing the path from one mole to the next, and Leon's whimpers filled the room, he bit his lip to hold back his moans as his body arched into your teasing touches.

His arousal was obvious — the teasing bulge stretched against the fabric of his pants, you could no longer resist the temptation.

Your lips met his in a heated kiss and Leon responded eagerly, his mouth hungry for your taste, his tongue dancing with yours in a sensual tango, a silent plea for more.

As your lips closed, your hands roamed freely over his bare chest and stomach, you could feel the rapid beating of his heart under your fingertips, and this only increased your desire to tease him even more, your nails lightly scratching his sensitive skin, leaving behind a fiery track.

Leon's hips jerked upward, seeking more contact with your body, he was lost in a haze of pleasure, his composure slipping away by the second, but his hands were still tied and he was at your mercy, completely under your spell.

Breaking the kiss, you trailed a line of wet, open mouthed kisses down his chest, pausing to pay attention to each of his scars and moles, Leon's head finally falling back against the blue sheets, his eyes closing as he gave in to the sensations running through him.

You continued your descent, your lips moving lower, tracing the trail of hair that disappeared under the waistband of his pants, Leon's breath caught in his throat as you teased the sensitive skin just above his hips, your fingers slowly moving closer to the place where he craved your touch the most.

Leon's whines and whimpers grew more insistent, his hips rocking in time with your teasing, his body a symphony of desire, every touch pushing him closer to the edge, and you reveled in the power you had over him, the knowledge that you could bring him to the edge and hold him there, suspended in ecstasy.

With an evil grin, you finally relented, freeing his arousal from the confines of his clothes.

Your hand wrapped around his hot cock, eliciting a guttural moan from Leon's lips, you slowly stroked him, running your thumb over the sensitive head dripping precum, and he writhed under your touch, his back arched off the bed.

— «P-please..» he begged with a desperate plea in his voice.

But you had other plans.

You leaned down and captured his lips again, your kiss greedy and possessive, your free hand continuing its exploration, moving lower, tracing the contours of his thighs and teasing the sensitive skin under his knees.

Leon's whimpers and moans were getting louder, his body was shaking with need, he was completely under your control, his arousal had reached fever pitch and as you continued to tease and arouse him, you knew that the pleasure you were going to give him would be worth every moment of waiting.

The room was plunged into a sensual, almost surreal atmosphere when you momentarily removed your hand from her intimate task, the golden light of the bedside lamp illuminated Leon's naked body with a gentle, caressing light, emphasizing the contours of his toned body and the play of shadows on his chiseled features.

Leon lay on the blue sheets, his wrists still tied behind his back, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his erect cock throbbed with need, his skin bearing the marks of your affection, adorned with a symphony of moles and scars that you lovingly kissed and teased.

The room seemed to hold its breath, as if time itself had stopped to admire the breathtaking sight that unfolded before it.

You couldn’t help but look at him, at the pure beauty of Leon Kennedy, completely at your mercy, his lips swollen from your kisses and his eyes dark with desire and longing, a drop of precum glistening at the top of his throbbing cock, indicating the intensity of his need.

A sly smirk tugged at your lips as you shifted your position and sat up to take a more advantageous position, you wanted to savor this moment, commit it to your memory — the image of Leon tied up and vulnerable, his desire displayed in all its glory, it was a sight to behold, that made you feel equal parts powerful and wanted.

Leon's practically wet eyes followed your every move, a mixture of curiosity and impatience dancing in their depths, he propped himself up incongruously on his elbows, his chest heaving as he stared at you, his moans of need filling the air, a symphony of longing that made your heart beat faster.

— «W-what are you doing?» he asked in a voice hoarse with desire, in which a note of despair crept in.

You met his gaze, your eyes blazing with desire — «Just admiring the view, detective» you responded with a sultry purr.

Leon's frustration became palpable as he looked at you and he couldn't take it anymore, with a sudden sharp movement he tried to sit up but was met with resistance from the rope still binding his wrists, his howl of frustration turning into a loud, needy moan as he realized that he couldn’t reach you.

But you weren't done teasing him yet, with an evil grin you crawled closer, your hand returning to its previous position, your touches were maddeningly slow and deliberate, your fingers danced over his cock, spreading the precum and increasing his arousal, outlining every vein.

Leon's head fell back and he let out a guttural moan, his body arched off the bed, he was completely at your mercy, his pleasure reached its climax, every touch of your hand sent him into fits of ecstasy and he was helpless to resist the pleasure you delivered to him.

— «D-darling!» he groaned, his voice full of despair — «P-please, don't tease me like that»

Your smile grew wider, your movements became faster and more intense, Leon's whimpers and moans filled the room, mixing with the sounds of the cicadas outside, the atmosphere was saturated with desire, a heady mixture of pleasure and anticipation that left both of you breathless.

You obeyed, abruptly taking him into your mouth with a slow, agonizing descent, Leon's body tensed and he cried out, his fingers gripping the sheets beneath him as if they were his lifeline, the feeling of a warm mouth enveloping his cock was unbearable.

You began to move your head up and down, wrapping your lips around him as your tongue swirled around his cock and you found a rhythm that made Leon writhe in ecstasy, his hips moving in time with your caresses, seeking deeper contact as his moans filled the room, getting louder every second.

— «O-oh L-Lord» Leon exhaled, throwing his head back and closing his eyes — «Y-you feel so… amazing..»

The sound of his pleasure and approval fueled your desire and you continued your delicious torment, your hands working in tandem with your mouth, stroking and sucking him, bringing him closer and closer to the abyss of pleasure.

Your tongue swirled around him, your mouth purposefully slid along length of hic cock, his fingers clenched the sheets beneath him until his bones ached, the intensity of the pleasure was almost overwhelming and he struggled to hold back his screams.

— «H-honey..» he exhaled, his voice filled with a mixture of pleasure and despair — «I can't… I can't hold on any longer»

Your reaction was to increase your efforts, taking his cock even deeper into your mouth and letting your hands work their magic, feeling his tip hit the roof of your mouth, the combination of suction, the wet warmth of your mouth and your skillful touch of your hand drove Leon crazy and he couldn't take it anymore resist growing tension.

With a cry of ecstasy, Leon gave in to the overwhelming pleasure, his body convulsed, you tightened your grip, your stroking movements became more and more merciless as he found release, his hips jerked and he poured his cum into your waiting mouth, allowing you to swallow it all without a second thought, his moans and cries of your name filled the room as his body shook in ecstasy.

You continued to pleasure him through his climax, enjoying every moment of his pleasure, and as Leon's breathing slowly returned to normal, you released his limp cock from your mouth.

While Leon's release was still in the air, you sat down next to him, your movements deliberate and gentle, the atmosphere in the room changed from intense desire to one of intimate connection and care, the warming light of the bedside lamp continued to envelop the two of you in its soft glow, casting gentle shadows that danced on the blue sheets.

Leon's hands, finally free of their bonds, trembled slightly as you began to carefully untie the many knots, your fingers working with gentle precision, your touch soothing the reddened marks on his wrists and forearms.

The room seemed to hold its breath again, this time out of respect for the tenderness and affection that flowed between you.

When the last knot was untied, Leon slowly sat up, his hands now free, he turned to you, his eyes full of gratitude and vulnerability, and without saying a word, he wrapped his trembling arms around your waist, burying his face in the crook of your shoulder.

You could feel his rapid heartbeat against your chest, jolts of pleasure still coursing through his body, his warm breath brushing against your skin and his arms holding you with a desperate, almost possessive strength.

A soft smile played on your lips as you gently stroked his hair, running your fingers through the strands, it was a gesture of comfort, a silent promise that you would be there for him, that he would be safe and cherished in your arms.

Leon's body slowly relaxed, his trembling subsiding as he smelled the scent of your skin and the steady rhythm of your heartbeat, the room filled with a deep sense of intimacy, a connection that transcended words and actions.

— «Are you okay?» you whispered, your voice gently caressing his ear.

Leon nodded into your shoulder, his lips lightly touching your skin — «Yeah..» he muttered, his voice full of emotion — «I'm more than okay»

In that moment, you both realized that what you shared was something truly special.

It wasn't just about desire and pleasure — it was about trust, vulnerability and the deep connection that developed between you, holding each other in the soft light of the room you felt a deep sense of satisfaction and gratitude for the connection you found in each other.

As the outside world continued to wake up, you and Leon remained entwined, and with one last, lingering kiss, you both closed your eyes and fell into sleep.

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