TF141, overgrown fuck boys that’s made a game of using women, sharing videos and stories and on the fun occasion sharing said women. Spotting you one day, one of them approaches trying to make you another video in their collection just for you to turn them down and even maybe embarrass them. …. They get so caught up in the scene and poking jabs at said fellow mate for failing, you become a bet for them, only to see which could get with you and make a video. No big prize, nothing special, just a fun distraction. They work endlessly to woo you, breaking unspoken rules just to get close, biggest rule being… no feelings. How are they going to rewrite their lies they’ve told you to convince you how they really feel??? Idk, it’s a thought that’s been rattling in my head, so many details, so much angst, and a group of disgusting, emotionally immature men wishing that they hadn’t lied in the first place. Thoughts?
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So, as an aside- because this is the third post I've spotted about it.
Write the uncomfortable things. Write the questionable things. Write the things that are on brand for the voice you're writing in, or the character you're playing.
I'm not saying going and writing out things for sheer shock value, mind you- with the purpose of deliberately riling someone up. I'm saying that if you're writing a villain, and they're going to do villainous things that are immoral and evil?
Within reason? Write them.
Is your hero an anti-hero with skewed morals?
Write them.
You can write them, and still absolutely abhor them. You can write them, and absolutely do not believe that ANY of what you're writing is the right thing to do. You can write them, and still keep your personal morals. Humans are not absolute creatures, and we are not solely in the realms of blacks and whites when it comes to presentation of mores and morals.
So. Write them, but tag them. Be responsible with your words. Tag them so that those that are triggered by them can avoid them. Tag them so that people know what to watch out for.
Pairing : Alpha!Steve Rogers x Omega!Reader (R18)
Warnings(?)/ tags: manipulation, smut, soft dark!Steve Rogers, unbeta(ed), canon-divergence, heavy angst
a/n: Steve is fluent in multiple languages, Spanish being one of them... and i just wanted an excuse to have a try at smut with it. there ya go. ;)
Things had settled into a routine.
**by proceeding to read, you agree you are aware of the warnings.
2024. early spring.
With the infinity stones returned, life started back for the world. An almost neurotic routine. He didn't miss having his vibranium shield, he had a new purpose in life now.
His job as the CEO of EveBiotech kept him plenty busy without having to look over his shoulder for the fate of the world. He went on time-heist missions, he could afford to run a company on his own.
He was working the 9-5, had an expecting wife at home. Life was good.
He turned on his side, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest. Little puffs of air accompany your breathing. Carefully reaching his arm across your midsection. His warm palm resting on the bump that carried the new life inside of you.
His alpha instincts went stir crazy, refusing to let you out of his sight, you went absolutely feral, livid over his fussing that you had all but screamed at him to leave you alone for the remainder of the evening. Had not been for your condition, he would have you bent over the table without so much as a warning.
You stirred in your sleep, grumbling out a noise of annoyance, pushing your face closer to the pillow. You always were complaining his hands were like a furnace. He attributed it to the enhanced metabolism that caused his temperature to be warmer than average.
His hand carded through the length of your hair, stopping right past your shoulders. The swell of your stomach, your curves in all the right places, preparing you for motherhood.
Gently massaging the pressure point of your lower back, what he didn’t expect was the small sigh of pleasure that went straight to Steve’s groin. He caught the change in your breathing pattern, pulling you flush against him again. His desire evident by the hardness pressed against your back.
Steve barely held back his grin, look who’s suddenly wide awake.
“Te extraño mucho amor mĂo …” He growled; the sounds were hot against your ear. He reached under the covers, stroking the insides of your thigh, rubbing against your mound on the apex of your thigh.
By the gods, if you weren't so aroused, you would had slapped your Alpha. Ever since he knew how turned on you ere by him speaking a foreign language, he has taunted you, teased you to no end.
“That's not fair, I don't know what you're saying.” You pouted, your disdain evident as your hands moves to his head, carding your fingers through his light curls. He relished in the comforting feeling.
"Hmm.." He rubs his nose against yours, "but you already know what it means." He crashed his lips on you in sheer desperation, like a man in thirst and you were his only oasis.
You responded in kind. Your hands cupping his face, rolling him on his back, you straddled him. Planting heady, noisy kisses on his cheek. The scruff of his coarse facial hair eliciting an involuntary laugh from you. He knew you liked his beard.
He’s the source of your pain, source of your pleasure. Either way he’s the only one that gets to make you a crying mess at the end.
“Thought you liked the beard, nena.” A coy smile playing on your lips. Your arousal rolling off him in waves.
His hand rubbing absentmindedly on the side of your thighs, waist, holding you steady as you leaned forward to rest your head against his shoulder, your knees on the sides of his waist. You took in his features, your mind drifting away, getting lost in his exasperating baby blue eyes, one that you hoped your baby would inherit. Or would your baby take after your darker ones?
He was careful to shift you on your knees with his chest pressed against your back.
You yelped as his palm connected hard against your perky ass. His hand against the swell of your stomach. There was no distinction of the ragged voices, you bucked your hips against his.
“Ah ah ah…” He tutted, running a finger up your slit before bringing it to his mouth.
“Dios, I didn’t think you could get any wetter, already gushing for me, mi amor?” His coarse facial hair rubbing against your thigh, giving your aching cunt a long swipe of his tongue.
“It should be- ahnn. Mm..” you panted, “it should be illegal, ah- for you to speak in a foreign language.”
“It’s only foreign if you don’t know it…” He prodded second finger in your dripping hole, he hummed thoughtfully at what you were trying to get across.
Your hands gripped the sheets, your knuckles turning white. He continued lapping up your slick juices, his groans, his tongue dragging against the insides of your walls, sending you over the edge.
“That’s it, doll, one more, give it to your Alpha.” His fingers started an unrelenting pace, adding in another digit to your abused hole. The simmer coming to a burn as you came undone, your head lolled forward, sapped of all energy. His hand gripping fiercely on your hip, unrelenting, keeping you on your knees.
You nodded your head, biting your lip, he was kissing a path from neck to your temples, and you shattered again from his fingers, your slick dripping against your thigh. You cried out into a lewd moan that was absolutely carnal to his ears. He took your form in, breathing ragged, your pupils blown wide in arousal, needy whines stoking his lust.
“… so good, my little slut.” He sang his praises into your neck, basking in where your scent was strongest, a decadent vanilla compound with his bourbon and mahogany undertone mingling. Admiring the scar where he had marked you.
“On your back, now.” Doing as you were told; you shifted carefully on your back.
Your thighs tensing and clenching, as he lined his shaft to your opening, prodding at the slick entrance. Your moans dying on his mouth when he slammed his lips back to yours.
He slipped his arm underneath your back, pulling you even closer to him.
His thrusts being more and more erratic with every minute. You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face into his neck, taking in your Alpha’s scent, his woody and bourbon musk overwhelming your already fucked out senses.
“I love seeing you so full like this. Can’t wait to put another baby… – in you.” You tipped over to an orgasm from the low rumble of his lust driven tone. He bit down on your inflamed scent glands, drawing blood. The reaction was instantaneous, your walls clamping, your throat choked out a scream before creaming around his cock.
Your body still shaking as you cum, finding it hard to get a grasp on reality as he fucked you through your orgasm, chasing his own. He followed you soon after, pressing you as close to him as he could while he emptied his load inside of you. He choked out a guttural groan, marveling at how well your cunt was at milking every last drop of his cum. He didn't pulled out just yet.
He kissed the tips of your fingers, the erotic sight of him then taking your index finger in his mouth, humming in pleasure and you whined at the unfairness, and with the way your pussy was squeezing down on his cock was any indication that you hardly had enough.
“You’re so pretty like this, I just can’t help but. eat. you. up.” He punctuated his words by nipping on your fingers. Attempting to bite at your nose next, you whimpered pathetically turning your face away.
“No… No more…” You shook your head weakly, a strangled sob escaping you.
He grinned impishly, grabbing at your calves to put your legs on his shoulder, kissing the inside of your thigh.
He'll never be able to leave you. Not with the baby. Not with the image he meticulously created for himself.
The doting mate you had portrayed to the world. Loving, meek, obedient Omega to Steve Rogers. The world will eat him up alive for the mere thought of leaving.
He rubbed his palm over the peak of your abdomen, lazily you traced the line of his collarbone. Lowering your finger till it stopped right above his sternum.
He knew what you wanted.
You knew what he did.
A dark look crossing your features as your lips pulled into a Cheshire grin. He likened you to his own Nerium oleander. Sweet, but will kill him all the same once consumed.
Your existence blinded him. In the purest sense of the word; he loses his vision whenever when he’s with you. He buried the woman he loved in the past, swearing to forget her. He had all but torn his legacy apart, damned himself to keep your Epsilon status well-guarded, corrupting his soul, his principles all in the name love.
Steve had made you believe that you were special, that you were in his league. Loving him made you feel different, like you could take on the world too.
When you loved him, you did everything you could to please him, to pretend to be the woman he would adore and devote his attention on. The obedient, meek, doting omega.
And when you hated him - you were the next best version of yourself, because you deigned and obeyed what he wanted to the T. You took care of your own image, your physical well-being, you ate well, you went on morning walks while he sprints the whole goddamn central park by himself.
You became the self obsessed omega that checked yourself for wrinkles around your eyes and neck just because Steve had lingered his gaze on the young doctor one time a little too long for your liking.
Trapped in the depths of your love, obsession, devotion, passion, repulsion, mirrored his very own as stormy and dangerous as the Aegean Sea.
c!quackity is gonna ask post-egg!bad to join las nevadas and itll be a long-con for bad to set up a toll gate at the entrance, ensuring foolish's breaking point into becoming the totem of death.
@coffee-cupps My First request! Thank you! I hope you enjoy!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was rough for you, here on the Tyranny. Nickel knew that. Well, with the big five constantly sneering at you and talking about how weak humans were, it was bound to break anyone. But they wouldn’t hurt you, that Nickel made sure of. You stayed in either her quarters or the medibay.
She’d left you on Messatine during their last hunt, just to make sure you were safe. When she came back to her suite, she couldn’t find you.
“Y/N?” She said softly, knowing that you were probably hiding again. She heard your sniffles from behind a console, and sat beside it.
“Y/N… We’re home.”
At 6 feet tall, Nickel was just taller than most humans. But she could still pick you up and hold you close.
“I thought you’d left me.”
“Ah hon.. Ya know I’d never leave you.” She smiles, wiping your tears with a soft cloth she kept in her subspace.
“Why? I want to go home…”
Home, meaning Earth. Back to that filthy little organic planet. The only good thing that came from that planet, was you.
“Ya know I can’t do that, sweetspark. The boys won’t let me. They’d have you caught again before you could make it somewhere safe.” She said, wiping your tears again. They’d picked you up when they’d taken some poor sap’s name from the list. They were smuggling you to some exotic pet trade.
“I’ll take care of ya. You know?”
“Thank you, Nickel.”
“Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“I won’t let them hurt you.”
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Is it just me to did c!Wilbur fully expect c!Phil to be an absolute mess because he killed his son and then found him living peacefully and not spiraling into dispair? I almost think he sounded a little disappointed, but I can't decide if it's because he is hurt that he 'didnt mean that much' or because he can't leverage that guilt as much... Personally I'm hoping for the first one, but c!wilbur is practiced manipulator and guilt trips are like lesson 1....