#Home Mates Cleaning
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homematescleaningservices · 3 months ago
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End of Lease Cleaning Brisbane: Ensure a Stress-Free Move
Let Home Mates Cleaning Services take the stress out of your move with our reliable end of lease cleaning services in Brisbane. We make sure your property is spotless, so you can focus on settling into your new home. Contact us today to schedule your cleaning and secure your bond refund.
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im2tired4usernames · 3 months ago
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Me: I need some time for myself I need some time to decompress after constant work and high stress and responsibility you guys dump on me with no time for me to think or be by myself to rest and focus on my hobbies since I can't get that from you guys ever during the week I'm taking a day I WOULD get paid and go to my actual for real paying job so I can just rest so I hopefully stop daydreaming about killing myself.
My family: OK BUT WHAT IF THIS LIL "EXTRA FREE TIME WAS MORE UNPAID LABOR FOR THE FAMILY HUH WHAT IF WE JUST TAKE THAT TIME N USE IT TO DUMP MORE WORK ON YOU AND THEN MAKE YOU FEEL GUILTY FOR WANTING FIVE SECONDS WITH OUT A CHILD SCREAMING IN YOUR FACE OR A SOAPY DISH RAG N YOUR HAND WHAT IF WE DO WHAT THE LORD IS CALLED US AND DO SOMETHING PRODUCTIVE WITH OUR LIVES WE CANT GET IT DONE BY OURSELVES WE NEED YOU TO TAKE ON THE WORKLOAD OF THREE PEOPLE AND DO IT WITH A SERVANT'S HEART AND A SMILE ON YOUR FACE!
me: do I look forward to dying so I can get some actual rest?
#eh it's not just my family there's something wrong with me that just makes people dump everything on me friends old room mates coworkers#people just think i deserve all the labor i guess all day everyday nonstop housewife and surrogate mother#its good be something i do because it's a nonstop trend of me saying i want to go to bed and then four hours amd forty six minutes later I'#still cleaning#people just seem to assume I'm built for hard continuous labor because even as a child and i went to friends houses#they're mom n dad would make me weed the garden and clean their yard before i could play#so it is definitely something wrong with me because it keeps happening but fuck do these people live to take advantage of it#it is what it is but fuck if i knew id just be working id have gone into work and at least gotten to take naps on my fifteen minute break#and lunch break#i need to get a home by myself so that i can be at home and not have to spend four hours sorting laundry but can actually sleep on my days#off and maybe have time to actually try to teach myself how to knit or draw or read and actually read not listening to audiobooks you find#on YouTube while you clean and just not have to think#but have to constantly be on the clock i can take my face off and just breath#but i do not think i can get that living with people i think i need to live by myself or with my wife#extreme introvert never allowed a second alone but even in the toilet or in bed i have people bugging me nonstop constantly#JUST CONSTANTLY#i just want thirty minutes were NO ONE FUCKING TALKS TO ME OR LOOKS AT ME P L E A S E
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spinderella-umbrella · 9 months ago
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I’m so fucking done with my housemate stealing my food.
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chewablepebbles · 2 years ago
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I just got the okay to stay in texas!!
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fancynecr0mancy · 11 days ago
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webism · 4 months ago
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pornstar!satoru who knows there are a million eyes on him, he’s seen his view counts—the whole world has seen his form. He’s cocky, loves knowing just how many people have gotten off to the sight of him.
pornstar!satoru who, despite his infamous confidence, gets nervous when you walk on set and offer him your camera-ready smile. You’re such a pretty thing, the dictionary’s definition of perfect.
pornstar!satoru who can’t help but excuse himself before the shoot, so he can was his face and sate his nerves. Locks himself away in a bathroom just to pull his phone out and google your name—and god does he like what he sees.
pornstar!satoru who is minutes away from having to be balls deep inside of you and can’t help himself from touching himself in the bathroom. scrolling endlessly on his phone, pictures of you in different positions, different little outfits, looking fucking perfect in each one.
pornstar!satoru who cums harder than he has in months, in a porn set bathroom, just to the fantasy of his hand being yours. he feels like a sex-driven teen again, hands clammy as he washes them clean from the receipt of his desperation.
pornstar!satoru who is hard again the second he steps out to find you already naked on the scene bed. your skin looks satin soft against those sheets, eyes soft and lips softer as you watch him stalk over to you. consent checks and camera placement talk goes through one ear and out the other, he can’t get his eyes off you.
pornstar!satoru who forgets he’s a pornstar the moment his hands touch that sweet body of yours. he’s completely fumbling the scene laid out, the scripted dirty talk is forgotten the second his lips open. the only reason cameras aren’t cut is because the filth that leaves his mouth instead is more pornographic than the scene at hand.
pornstar!satoru who presses you down into the mattress in a mean mating press when he’s supposed to have you face down ass up. who would he be to deny himself a long look into those pretty eyes of yours? no way is he losing this opportunity for a paycheck he doesn’t really need.
pornstar!satoru who loses his curated pornstar persona the minute he bottoms out inside of you. his usual moans and groans are replaced with desperate whines of real pleasure. this is sex, he’s a mess of need and want and sweat and god do you look good stuffed full of his cock. he can tell you’re feeling it too, that something else, that electric eroticism that gets lost when you fuck for a living.
pornstar!satoru who can’t stop wondering what you’d look like pinned down in his own bed, away from the harsh light and prying eyes of the production crew. who has such a visceral feeling of dread knowing how many people are going to see you like this, fucked out and cockdrunk by his doing. it’s possession, a need to keep you to himself, sequester you away for his eyes only.
pornstar!satoru who cums ropes way too quickly. he’s usually good at holding his orgasm at bay for long enough to make a porno, but your pussy clenched around his cock was too much, your nails in the corded muscle of his biceps, your lips against his, your body in his fucking vicinity? he can’t help it.
pornstar!satoru who, after filming, invites you back to his for a drink or three, and gets swiftly rejected when you bat your pretty lashes at him and mention your boyfriend waiting for you at home.
pt 2!
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hurlingdown · 3 months ago
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          ❛ FUCK YOU LIKE . . . AN ANIMAL ?! ❜
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synopsis. your husband nanami kento has always secretly prided himself on being the one to tame you. but what happens when you, a fully grown werewolf, gets exposed to the full moon while curse hunting together in an abandoned building? spoilers: you chase, he runs. wc. 2.9k
tags. top werewolf reader, bottom! nanami. reader has a cock. bit of sub top / dom bottom dynamic. monsterfucking, rimming, anal sex, male squirting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, dry orgasm, creampie, knotting, biting, stomach bulge, flavoured lube, praise kink (reader receiving), breeding kink, nanami gets his ass eaten for 2k.
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Full moon. That only meant one thing. 
“Kentoo,” you crooned, and it sounded strange with your fangs growing and getting in the way, words forming in low gurgles. “I'm getting bored. Come out and play with me.” 
You could hear his breathing sounds all the way down the hallway: the vague inhale, the hurried exhale. Second or third door to your right, probably under a desk, with his hands clamped over his mouth. He was hiding. From you. 
You could feel your innards metamorphosing, heat boiling low in your core, resisting the urge to rip off all your clothes and bask in the silver light streaming through the broken window that had caused this mess in the first place. Dark grey fur had burst through your skin moments before at first contact with the full moon—your legs bowing back, bones crackling, the rest of your body except for your face shifting into some sort of hybrid between beast and man. 
You gave in to the instinct to hunch over, like a predator stalking prey. And maybe you were. 
“Kento?” you called out, an innocent and curious lilt to your voice, pretending that you didn’t already know his whereabouts. “Are you…” You pushed open the first door to your right, a creak resounding in the abandoned building, a stark contrast to your light and silent footsteps. “Here?” 
Nanami’s breath quickened, and so did his heartbeat. Thump, thump, thump. You wanted to eat him. 
“Kento… come on, it’s not that funny anymore…” you mumbled, the exaggerated pout clear in your voice, retreating from the empty room and slowly making your way to the second door. “I miss you a lot…” 
The second room was also empty. You pretended to sigh despite the excited twitch in your pants as you caught a whiff of his mouth-watering scent, sharp and clean and masculine—not something that alphas would go for typically, but to you, it was ecstasy. You licked your lips in sweet anticipation, sauntering over to the third and final door. 
“There’s no need to hide, y’know… we’d be so good to you.” Half of that was a lie. You were going to press him into the ground and defile him the moment you get your hands on him, submitting to your instincts to mate and breed—if the huge, excited bulge at the front of your trousers wasn’t enough proof of that. “Tell me, are you—” 
You flung the door open. 
“—here?” 
The wind rustled through the half-opened window on the other side, but the room was… empty, to your surprise. Nanami had probably escaped through the same window, but that wasn’t all. Surely enough, lying under a desk near the wall, was your husband’s yellow spotted tie, neatly folded and left in his place to taunt you. 
“Kento,” you growled, displeasure coursing through you, but you bent down to pick up the tie, bringing it up to smother your face, breathing heavily in the lingering scent. Delicious. You would have your revenge. 
You ended up stalking your way back home, following the trail of his scent, cock straining against the fabric of your pants, swollen and heavy and painful, like the rest of your body. You had discarded your shirt somewhere on the road, your body overheating too much to care about being shirtless in public. 
Sweat trickled down your back and shoulders, your scent glands dripping with fragrant oil at the back of your neck. The moon was right behind you, and your awaiting prey was right inside the house before you. You would have him, finally. He would be yours. 
The door was already open when you reached it, the strong, assured scent of your mate safely resting inside your territory making you giddy with pride, a constant subvocal growl ringing at the back of your throat. “Kento…” you warbled, making your way up the stairs towards your shared room. “Ten seconds. And then I’m coming in.” 
“... It’s alright,” a muffled voice said, coughing lightly. “I’ve already… prepared myself.” 
And that was the only green light that you needed. 
You snarled, leaping up the remaining flight of stairs and slamming into the doorframe, the door forcefully bursting open. You could hear his choked-up gasp before you laid your eyes on him. His goggles were removed and lying beside him on the nightstand, and you salivated at the sight of his mostly naked body, blue dress shirt unbuttoned and a breeze away from slipping off the shoulders that you so desperately wanted to sink your teeth into. 
“Mate,” you purred, eyes trained onto his hard, leaking cock against his stomach as you palmed yourself through your pants. “My mate.” 
Nanami visibly swallowed, backing up against the bedframe, his hips lifting slightly to show you the efforts he had made to please you. A pink, puffy asshole, stretched wide enough that you could see the lube trickling out from within. 
“Yeah,” he breathed, leaning his head back to expose his throat, an act of submission that he knew would make you feral. “All yours. Come n’ get me.” 
You growled louder, stalking forward on your hands and knees. 
He feigned composure, despite the fact that you could hear his heart pounding wildly from where you were, the slight hitch in his breath that gave away his fear and uncertainty. Keeping his eye contact with you, he reached between his legs to stroke his cock slowly, pumping pre-cum out. “Oh… yes. Reminds me. Did you bring my tie back?” 
“Yeah,” you murmured, reaching back to pull out his tie from your pocket, albeit it was crumpled and soaked in your drool. He winced at its poor state, taking it from you anyway. 
“Thank you,” he muttered. “... Always so good.” 
You crooned at the praise, climbing onto the bed with little grace and crawling between his parted thighs, immediately nuzzling affectionately into his neck, jaw firmly snapped shut despite your instincts telling you to bite. “... I caught you.” 
“You caught me,” Nanami echoed, looking at you—this version of you—with an expression no less than tender. You were somewhat larger than him, now, and certainly not human, staring down at him with golden, eerie eyes, hungry and strange, and he stared right back into them, unfazed.
All of this was making you hungry. You bared your teeth as you leaned in again, wanting to mark him up as yours already. 
“Later,” he chided, pushing your face away, and then reached over to pull your swollen cock out from your trousers, calloused hands thumbing gently at the tip. “This first.” 
“Okay,” you groaned, the small amount of pleasure already making it hard to focus, warmth stirring in your abdomen. It was funny how you had promised yourself you would ruin him the second he was in your hands, but now that he was, you didn’t even bother to resist his command. “Anything you want.” 
You smiled innocently, and you watched as his gaze softened, features relaxing. 
He let go of you to turn around, knowing that you preferred it when he was presenting as an omega werewolf would, but you grabbed his ankles, grip tight and keeping him in place. “No.” You shook your head, frowning. “I’m not—not fucking any omega. I’m fucking you tonight, Kento.” 
Nanami made an appreciative noise at the back of his throat, almost a whine if you didn’t know any better. “That’s... good. That’s very good,” he says, breathless. “Fuck me, then.” 
You slid your hands up his bare thighs, the tender touch making him shiver, before you cupped the back of his knees, very, very slowly pushing them against his chest until he was one press away from being bent in half. His eyes were sharp, trained onto your every movement, but you could feel the intensity resting within, the heat and desire, the impatience. 
You wanted to play with him, so very badly. 
“What are you—” He let out a choked groan at the first swipe of your tongue against his hole, hand shooting forward to grip the fur at the top of your head tightly. “—hngh.” 
You sucked wetly at his rim, tasting the flavoured lube that you had jokingly got him as an anniversary gift, tangy and disgustingly sweet. Fuck. You were drooling already. 
“Kento,” you whined, burying your face between his asscheeks as your tongue slowly breached and unbreached him, careful not to graze him with your fangs. “Tastes so good. Wanna eat you.” 
What the fuck. Eat him? Did he hear you correctly?  
And he might just be too worked up, but why did it feel thicker and longer than usual? 
“Don’t—lie,” he gasped out, struggling not to rut up against your hot mouth, to take you deeper inside his hole. “I chose the- the worst flavour possible.” 
“It’s you,” you murmured, crooning with delight as his hands moved to spread himself open for you, further exposing his sensitive hole. “You always taste so good, no matter what. You always smell good, too.” 
“You sure talk a lot,” he grits out, stifling a moan. “For someone who promised to fuck me.” 
You bit down a smirk at how subtly eager he was being. “I’ll get to that, don’t worry. Just—this first. Please?” He scowled at the fact that you were using his words against him so sweetly, but he relented silently, pushing his hips towards your face as you slid a pillow under the small of his back, immediately returning to stretching him open with your tongue.  
“Oh—” 
His lips parted to let out a deep, sexy groan as you jabbed at his prostate, not once, but twice, and you kept going, enjoying the sight of your mate falling apart.
“Fuck.” His thighs were trembling, his head thrown back at the intense pleasure, because no, you weren’t just eating him out, you were making out with his fucking asshole. Every lick and probe of your thick, thick tongue made stars explode before his eyes in the most insane way possible, touching him in places inside him that even he didn’t know existed. 
That insatiable tongue of yours. Nanami couldn’t decide if he hated or loved it more. It was making these obscene squelching noises, with all the lube and saliva being pushed further into his hole with every wet thrust, making room for more. It didn’t help that you were a messy eater, smearing drool all over his ass and thighs, looking at him with such hunger that made him dizzy with desire. 
My husband, who is a werewolf… is eating me out. 
Nanami grabs his cock hurriedly, pumping it quick enough to chafe if it weren’t for pre continuously dribbling down the side of it, crying out hoarsely as one clawed finger rubbed on a specific spot on his perineum, stimulating his prostate from both ends. 
“Haah, fuck, please—” he cried out, grip on your fur now tight enough that you could almost feel the strands being ripped from their roots. He couldn't wait anymore, he needed you now, and preferably inside him. “Fuck me. I said it. Please.” 
To his absolute horror, you only growled into his hole in response, ignoring his pleas, too lost in the feeling of it clenching repeatedly around your tongue. The squelching sounds grew louder as you slurped him frantically. Everything he did only spurred you on, and you grabbed onto his hips with your claws to dig deeper. 
“Ahh—haah, shit!” Nanami’s breath was laboured and shaky, eyes squeezed shut as he could do nothing but take you and everything else that you had to give him. “Please, sweetheart, feels too good... I’m gonna—ah, gonna cum, but I don’t want it t-to end like this, please. Want you inside me, not like this…” 
He can’t possibly keep going, it’s not possible. He must be tired of it now, and even if not, his jaw should be—
He was shivering as the pleasure bordered on painful overstimulation, tears gathering in his eyes as he grabbed the base of his cock—fighting with everything not to cum, even as you snarled against his hole in sharp disapproval, showing your fangs. “No—listen to me—hnngh. Th-thought you were gonna give me—anything I wanted. Let me- let me make you feel good, too. D-don’t you want to knot me?” 
Of course you wanted to knot him, keep him lodged on your cock for hours, days, for as long as he allowed you to. Breed him full of your puppies, even—make him carry them. But if he was using a brainless assumption like you not feeling any pleasure as a reason for you to stop, then he would have to try harder. 
You forced your entire tongue inside his tight rim, as deep as you could reach, rubbing firm clockwise circles into his perineum.
Nanami was letting out a stream of the most unholy noises you had ever heard, whimpering lewdly as he could feel the cum bursting past the tight restriction his hand had formed around his cock. “Gonna cum—” he choked out, back arching and toes curling as he crammed his thighs hard around your head, your fangs digging into skin—making you see stars. “Oh, fuuuuck—” 
He screamed out hoarsely as he came with violence, cock squirting everywhere, thick watery spurts painting his abdomen and both of your chests, with a few stray drops splattering onto his face and collarbones. You reached a hand out to hastily jerk him off while continuing to knead your tongue insistently on his sweet spot, wanting to milk his orgasm to the fullest—and he let out a dry, pathetic sob, orgasming for a second time, legs jerking as cum dribbled out from his spent cock. 
He pushed a hand onto your face, shivering and shaking his head. 
“F-fuck, puppy, no more.” 
You pulled your tongue out from his hole as you panted, making him whine breathily at the sudden emptiness. The slip of his nickname for you had barely registered in your head, your eyes immediately zeroing in on his plump, heaving chest, now decorated with strips of his release. Almost as if you were possessed, you leaned down, drooling as you pressed fang-shaped hickeys into his muscled pecs while eagerly licking up his squirt and cum. 
It was sweet. All of Kento was sweet, and you wanted more.
Nanami shuddered helplessly as you grazed his nipple with your sharp teeth before running your tongue over the abused nub, as though to apologise. This was… okay. It felt good, in a strange way. Soothing, even, especially after what you had done to him. That violent hunger, that insatiability. You were relentless. 
But before he knew it, there was something thick and hard rubbing on his swollen entrance, something way too big to be considering intrusion. 
“You said you’d let me knot you,” you mumbled, “Kento.” 
He bit down a shudder, fighting down a wave of panic. “No. No, I didn’t say that���don’t twist my words. I asked if you wanted to knot me. Before I came.” 
“Same thing,” you said, already pushing in—and he let out a barely audible cry, voice completely wrecked from all the begging earlier. “You said you want t-to make me feel good, right?” 
“Yes, b-but that was then. It’s too- too sensitive now, at least give me some time—” 
You groaned loudly as you bullied your way in with one strong thrust, burying yourself to the hilt inside his warm hole as his walls spasmed and tightened around you. “That’s more like it.” 
Nanami was wrecked. 
Tears were spilling down his cheeks, soft, overstimulated whimpers spilling out from parted lips as his cock twitched uselessly, trapped between you and the swell of his stomach. 
“You… really don’t listen, do you…” 
“Sorry,” you murmured, nuzzling his neck in apology. You didn’t sound sorry at all, and you knew it. 
You gave a shallow, experimental thrust, the base of your cock already swelling heavily with knot, all worked up from all the noises your mate was making earlier. “Kento…” you moaned, sharp claws digging into his meaty thighs as you knot-fucked him deeper, making him take you all the way. “You’re making me feel so good…” 
Seconds turned into minutes and minutes turned into what seemed like hours of you fucking him into the mattress, wringing orgasm out of orgasm out of him as you fucked him through all three of your knots, each one bigger than the last.
He gave a feeble moan as your hips finally stuttered to a stop, letting your final knot catch. There was a bulge visible over his abdomen as you filled him up with the warmth of your seed, groaning loudly, and Nanami let out a soundless whine in return, hips bucking weakly as his cock jumped, no longer able to cum.
You grinned dopily, feeling pride surge through your chest. You were the one who had made him like this. 
You were tired, and he was exhausted. The both of you were panting heavily, but it didn’t stop you from taking one long look at your mate, your husband, and feeling a surge of want, no, need—to kiss him. His tired eyes, his sharp cheekbones, his soft lips, all of it—fanged and brutal and loving. 
Nanami’s trembling hand reached over to grasp your clawed one, entwining it with his in an intimate gesture. You watched carefully as he brought it to his face and gently pressed your ringed finger to his lips, eyes screaming out to you with an affection so intense it almost made you forget how to breathe. Take what you want, they were saying. Take what you want from me, and I’ll give you all that’s left. 
Golden eyes gleaming in the dark, you returned his gaze with a similar one of your own. 
kinktober masterlist! masterlist!
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simonbrain · 3 months ago
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love the idea of reader just trying to fuck all her stress out with a random at the bar before returning back to her mundane life, and simon deciding he's going to keep her instead 🙂‍↕️
the prick doesn't budge when you try to kick him out; instead, he drags you back into bed and works his mouth to loosen you up again, and now you've forgotten why you were trying to haul his ass out of your home.
(you attempted to sound stern while telling him to get out of your house, but he merely chuckled, the sound so raspy and condescending that it stroked a heat within you that you thought was sated last night.
"this is our home. now get your arse back in bed, i'm fuckin' hungry.")
you had to really fist at his hair to pull him off of you, and that only turned him on if the deep groan rumbling out of him was anything to go by—you swear his tongue sunk deeper inside you. he only relented so he could fuck you dumb in the shower after, leaving you with trembling legs and feeling more dirty than clean (atta girl, don't you waste any of tha'—keep it all in).
you blink, and now suddenly you're seated as he spoon-feeds you a nice, hearty breakfast, huffing something like messy girl when toast crumbs get all over your face and the wooden table.
words can't express how flustered you are; you're too stunned to even continue telling the big man who's now feeding you scrambled eggs that he needs to leave. all you feel like you're capable of doing is opening your mouth to accept another spoonful, ignoring the ache you feel between your thighs when you catch his heavy stare and hear a low hum of approval.
then he's leaving (and it's not because of your nagging), muttering something about having to work those mutts to the bone today, all while you're trying to make sense of what's happening. he gives you a sloppy kiss to silence your questions and exasperation, one that makes you feel hot all over and almost melt into a puddle had it not been for the firm grip he had on your ass.
he licks his lips when he pulls back, eyes darting to where your shirt just barely covers where he'd rather be all day than having to go and train recruits. he stares for an uncomfortably long time and before you can speak up, face growing a little hot from the tension, he's turning around to finally leave.
before the door shuts, he says, "be a good girl, ay? see you tonight, birdie."
you're left with your thoughts and feelings of dread and anxiety. there definitely isn't any underlying interest or anything; the freak has fucked your brain out of your head, that's all. you're sure he didn't even mean it anyway. maybe. hopefully.
a drop of his come rolls down your thigh, and arousal shame burns through you. since when did you let one-night stands finish in you?
(your so-called one-night stand came home hungry and pissed, so worked up that he dragged you over to the nearest surface and played with you for a good hour. by the time you had half the mind to tell him about the dinner in the oven—your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets at how much money he had sent you for groceries earlier, nevermind how he got ahold of your account details—he grunted and finally gave your poor pussy a break, scarred mug all slick and flushed.)
good luck when he takes you to meet his mates at the bar a week later, the same bar you brought him home from; the comments from them make you wish a hole in the ground would just swallow you right up.
"pretty thing ye caught, lt," johnny grins, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. he's a bit over the top, ogles your chest too hard, but overall he's... alright. you'd probably notice how perverted he really was if you actually looked at him longer than a few fleeting glances, but his stare is kind of unnerving.
kyle—perfection personified—hums in agreement, a warm smile on his face that puts you at ease. somehow you don't pick up on the ulterior motive behind his gaze running over your body, eyes roaming over your chest more discreetly than johnny but just as appreciative. "pretty indeed. you don't mind sharing, do you ghost?" kyle teases, pretty eyes glancing over at simon, who only huffs at that and shakes his head (much to your confusion).
who the fuck is ghost? you only know big guy and simon.
there's a deep chuckle and your focus flits over to the man seated in front of you, captain john price. if you thought simon was scary, john's a man who demands respect and attention just by being in his presence. "you chose the wrong dog to bring home," john hums, voice deep and gravelly and making you shamefully squeeze your thighs together.
"but that's alright, sweetheart. you have three others now, yeah?" the purr that comes out of his mouth is sinful, and when you nod and stammer out a yes, sir as if you were one of his soldiers and not the sweet girl that simon has brought to his captain, looking for approval of his newest toy, he only smiles.
simon's hand squeezes your thigh underneath the table, trailing upwards, and you're slowly understanding what it is that you've gotten yourself into.
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bunnis-monsters · 5 months ago
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NSFW
Spoiled house husband cat!hybrid that spends all day napping, curled up by a window so he can feel the warm sun.
When you get home, the house is always clean and dinner is ready, and your husband is ready to be praised and pampered for working so hard…
In reality he sleeps so much that the house stays clean besides needing to be swept and dusted occasionally, and he’s good at cooking quick and delicious meals. But… even then, there’s a good chunk of the day that you aren’t aware of his whereabouts…
So you pamper his cute self, buying him good food, cuddling him as much as he wants, and of course letting him breed you to his hearts content.
He’ll spend hours lazily rutting into your pussy while he kneads your belly, his face buried in your neck so he can inhale your scent. It’s just too much, thinking of how round and heavy you’ll be with his kittens, he end up cumming so much…
It’s not like he doesn’t have money, he pays half the bills… you’re just not sure where her gets it from.
So when you get pregnant, it’s his turn to become a doting husband, cooing over your pregnant belly and butting his head against it affectionately. You can’t push him away.
You know how cats get all stiff when you try to make them do something you don’t want them to? Yeah, he does that when you push him to make him stop licking and nuzzling your belly. It tickles, damn it!
It’s a little too late to think of what to do when you realize he’s been out your house husband is actually a trained assassin that takes on jobs to help pay the bills and make sure his beloved mate is never in need of anything.
That’s why he’s so lazy when you get home, he’s just so sleepy and wants to curl up with his mate after a long day!
You can’t even think about what to do, you’re too busy being fucked silly by your husband. He can’t keep his hands off of you while you’re heavy and swollen with his kittens, only stopping once you’re too pregnant for safe sex.
For now, you’ve become the housewife while you’re pregnant… and your husband will always take care of you~
———————
NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @buckoothecow @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @midromiell @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans
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punkkture · 25 days ago
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any thoughts about how Simon would feel about certain kinks/ habits in the bedroom??
oh em gee, my version of simon is such a gross perv tbh . . .
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— simon is infatuated with you looking dumbed down and fucked out of it. he wants his warm cum all over every centimeter of your soft skin. he wants to see you painted in his white hot ropes. and to be honest, that’s really why he never cleans you up. it’s not because he doesn’t care . . . it’s because he cares too much.
why in the world would he wipe his cum off of your face or your pretty tummy? it’s right where it’s supposed to be. he always takes out his phone and gets a couple pictures of the sight.
“my gorgeous girl, so pretty”
— i just know this man has a breeding kink. i know it deep down. it might be because he doesn’t like the fact you’re without him when he’s gone on deployment — or maybe just because he’s never had something so important and special to him in his entire life, he is just infatuated with the idea of having a family with you.
but you can assure that the second he comes home from work, even if it’s only a short week long deployment, he has gotta have you underneath him in a mating press. not missionary, no, he’s gotta have your legs pressed right up against his shoulders while his left hand holds your ankle. his right hand is busy keeping himself propped up because he’s practically folding you so hard.
he can never get enough of your face when he cums so deep into you that you swear you ‘felt it go into your cervix’. it was probably just the overstimulation of his tip bruising that spot inside you, but it made him feel good to hear you say that nonetheless.
“so good baby, take it, i know you can take one more . . jus’ one more baby please”
— simon is definitely an ass guy. he lovesss grabbing and groping you in public. no matter how many times you swat his hand away from your backside, he always just gives a short chuckle and plays it off. only for seconds later to do it again.
he’s got a real thing for doggy because of it. the sight of his cock burying into you from behind and his rough hands leaving red marks and prints on your ass just makes him melt.
“baby c’mon . . . i was just playing i didn’t mean to hit it that hard . . ‘m sorry”
— i’m never going to retire the overall picture of perv bf simon. i think about it all the time and you guys should too. like he is nasty. he has such a thing for filming you when you don’t know. keeping your head shoved in the pillow as he fucks into you from behind with one hand, and his phone filming the sight of you pushing back against him to meet his thrusts in the other.
whenever he’s away on deployment he uses these videos to help himself. he misses you so much. he could easily spend the day going to the bathroom six different times just to jerk off. sometimes when it’s bad, all he needs to do is look at your pretty face.
he has no shame in sending you videos of him coating his abdomen and hands in his cum. hoping you use them to get off just like he does to your videos.
“see how bad i miss you? see what you do to me? god i can’t wait to get home to that pretty little cunt”
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specshroom · 9 months ago
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*°~There are many benefits to being a mage~°*
Includes: Fem reader x male orc, size kink, "human fetish", friends to more?
In which: Orc with a big problem confides in his mage friend who decides to help him out with a useful spell~🪄
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You've been in this town for quite a while now, almost 3 years. That wasn't the original plan but It just so happened that this seaside town was more welcoming than many places you've been to on your travels. It sits at the coast of two major trade routes, connecting people of many different walks of life.
The friendliness and diversity you experienced allowed you to make a few friends you might not have otherwise.
Like the one you're sharing breakfast with right now. His name is Grimmok and he's the self-proclaimed, "Best fisherman in this damn town". He's your typical young, burley orc.
The first time you met him was in the local pub, you were intrigued when a crowd formed infront of the huge orc. He was dramatically telling one of his fisherman's tales and the small crowd hung onto his every word. He was a very good story teller and you happened to be very interested in folklore and myths. You made a habit of just walking up to him, if he didn't look busy and asking him to tell you a story. Soon it wasn't uncommon to see you sitting on the docks listening and writing intently as he waxes on about some old wives tale while repairing his nets.
Now you sit in his home, eating breakfast while he grumbles on about having to train a new fishing boy.
"The boy gets distracted by the smallest things, every time someone even resembling female walks past the docks he's panting like a dog." Grimmok bites into his ridiculously large breakfast sandwich signaling the end of his rant.
He did look more grumpy than usual when he opened the door to let you in for your weekly Sunday breakfast. His shoulder length black hair was tied into a hasty half up half down bun and his stubble looked more scruffy than usual. You can only huff in amusement at his troubles.
"Cmon, don't be too harsh on the kid. You did the same thing with Rosie Cotton, remember?"
The orc stills and huffs indignantly, scratching at his neck. This makes you grin.
"Mhm, you'd be telling me a story and then just stop in the middle of a sentence. I'd look up and sure enough there's Miss Rosie walking on by. Fiery hair flowing in the wind, cleavage spilling out her dress, swaying those hips and-"
Grimmok interrupts your overdramatic musing by flicking your pointy hat off your head.
"Hey!"
"You're acting like you didn't like looking at her too." The big guy grumbles almost like a child. He wipes his hands on his plaid pajama pants and picks up his empty plate, heading towards the sink.
You lean down to pick your hat off the floor, dust it off and mumble,
"Yeah, but I never got to bed her."
The dishes in the sink clatter a little too loudly as he tenses up. You hardly try to stifle your laugh.
"We didn't actually...she was...too small... For me to...." The orc struggles out as he wipes his plate clean.
It's quiet for a minute until you ask.
"But she did try, right? I'm pretty sure that counts, Grim."
The orc just grumbles something unintelligible. You want to sympathise with the poor guy but imagining Rosie Cotton, a "short stack" type of woman, trying to fit his massive green cock in her little pussy was pretty erotic.
"I want to feel bad for you mate but you kind of bring this on yourself. You obviously have a bit of a human fetish."
"It's not a-" The orc goes to defend himself but stops and just sighs when he realises it's no use.
"...and a size kink to boot." You mumble with toast in your mouth.
"I can't help it if I think horny humans trying desperately to take my cock is literally the hottest thing to me!" Grimmok finally lets the dam of sexual frustration burst after you've done a sufficient amount of poking at it. You always were good at getting him to actually talk about his problems.
"But the problem comes in when I actually have to fuck them, they can barely take half! How am I supposed to fuck them!? I'm too big! I'd kill them!"
You can't help but choke on your toast as a cackle forces itself from your throat. "Sorry. I'm sorry!" You struggle between snorts. Your big green friend just stands there with a grimace, arms crossed as he waits for you to finish.
You sigh and wipe your watering eyes. "Well, I'm glad you've confided in me because now I can help you." You wipe your hands clean and stand up from the orc sized table.
"You know that cool thing I can do with my hat?" You take your hat off and reach inside of it, the magic pocket space allowing you to reach your whole arm inside of it when you physically shouldn't be able to.
He nods sceptically still leaning against the sink, a bit concerned about where this is going. He thought by "help" you meant like you were going to pep talk him or something.
"We just have to do this but with...." You gesture down to your crotch.
Grim stands there, mouth slightly agape, blinking at you.
"I mean it's not exactly the same obviously." You pull your trusty spell book out of the hat before placing it back on your head while the pages of the spell book fly open to the page you want. "You basically draw this sigil on someone and then they'll be able to take whatever they can push inside no matter how big. Girth might still be an issue though..."
You explain this to him like you've explained many other spells, like you're reading him a recipe, deliberating what ingredients would work best. He doesn't even know how to react honestly.
"You're serious?"
You clap the book shut and adjust your hat on your head, smugly shrugging,
"This is what I do."
The poor guy just stumbles in disbelief.
"Magic, I mean.... Magic is what I do." You correct yourself a bit awkwardly and clear your throat, regaining your confidence.
"It's a pretty easy spell so we can try this whenever you want really."
"We?"
"Alright! Alright."
"Well yeah, unless you want me to go up to Rosie Cotton and say "Hey love, you mind if I put this sigil on your womb so my friend can finally pound your tight little-"
Grimmok rubs his face with his hands, sighing again and looking unsure. You lean against the sink next to him, barely coming up to his pecs.
"Look, it'll just be a one time thing so you can actually see if human pussy's all that and if you like it, I'm sure we can find plenty of humans who would love to try it out."
"...Alright. That sounds good."
You give a slap to his thick bicep and an encouraging "ata boy."
"and if you don't like this one, I'm sure I could find a spell that'll just make you..." He doesn't miss how you glance down at his crotch. "Smaller."
He huffs and pushes your shoulder playfully, he liked how you could always joke away the tension in any given situation. You walk up to the big wooden chair you were sitting at a second ago and pull it away from the table so that it's facing outward, struggling a bit as it's very much orc sized like most things in his house.
"Cmon. Sit."
You pat the chair, looking at him expectantly.
"Now?"
He's really not used to other people being so forward especially not when it's his mate. You shrug at him.
"Why not? I mean we can wait till you're ready, I don't mind. I have literally all day."
You put your hands behind your back and rock on your feet as you both just stand in his kitchen for about a minute...waiting. He eventually huffs and steels himself, fully committing to the idea and walking over to plop himself in the chair. He's going to put his dick inside one of his best mates.
You place your hat on the table so it doesn't get in the way of your activity and step in front of him. You levitate your spell book In front of you, looking down at the page with the sigil that's way more familiar than you're letting on.
"Okay, I'll face this way so it's less....personal." You turn around so your back is facing him. "You do still need to take off your pants though."
He smacks his teeth, "I figured that." He mumbles, pushing his soft pajama pants down to his mid thighs, immediately freeing his cock as he wasn't wearing underwear. He leaves his white long sleeve on, the sleeves folded to his elbows, giving you a perfect tease of his thick strong arms and multiple tattoos. When he looks back at you and sees that you've already disappeared your pants, he quickly looks away.
Sensing his nervousness you ask with a softer voice than before,
"can I sit?"
He clears his throat before grumbling a "Yeah."
You gently lean down and sit your naked ass onto his lap, legs open wide over his own you can see his half hard cock laying between his legs but try not to stare. Obviously Grimmock is a big guy but he's even big by orc standards so of course his cock is massive even when he isn't fully hard.
Grimmock clears his throat and jolts you out of your thoughts. You adjust a bit on top of him feeling his happy trail against your lower back. Your eyes skim the page levitating in front of you, when you finally find the incantation passage you straighten up and start chanting the ancient words in the text. Your eyes glow and the air feels static, Grim has seen magic before but the novelty never truly wears off.
An intricate shape starts to form right above your pubic bone, where your womb would be. The sigil glows brightly on your skin as Grim peers from above your head to look at it. At first glance he thinks it looks a bit demonic but then remembers he doesn't know anything about magic and decides not to mention it. When the sigil is complete you clap the book shut, immediately cutting off the static energy in the room and startling him in the process.
"That should do it."
You place the book on the table and lean back against his clothed chest, feeling the tension in his body not letting up.
"Damn, I can't believe little Miss Rosie took half of this. What a lass."
Your joke lightens the mood once again as Grimmock scoffs at you. Feeling him relax, you bring your hand down to finally touch the wetness that's been growing for awhile now. "We should still do some prep before you put it in. Is that alright?"
He nods and watches your hand disappear between your thighs. You readjust so that your boot clad feet are on either side of the chair rests. Opening yourself up to the air and to him, he can see you've already got two fingers pushing inside. He hesitates before reaching for his cock and slowly starting to stroke himself under you but it was painfully clear he was holding back.
"I know I'm not as short or.... endowed as Miss Cotton but I could put on a red wig if you'd like."
Grim huffed a laugh at the mental image of that.
"Oh wow~ Grimmie, you're soooo big and strong~"
You say in a high pitched voice (that doesn't sound anything like Rosie Cotton), using her embarrassing pet name while looking up at him and batting your eyelashes dramatically.
Grim scoffs and holds his hand over your mouth "Stop playing around." He tries to sound serious but his smile and the grumble in his chest betrays him. You laugh against his hand holding his wrist. You slowly pull his hand off your mouth and inch it gradually down your body giving him ample time to pull away. He doesn't and you move his hand to rub against your wet pussy ever so gently.
You're both looking into each other's eyes, this was not supposed to be so intimate but it doesn't look like he minds when he takes charge and slowly eases two fingers inside your aching pussy. His thick fingers stretch your pussy so good as you lightly buck into his hand, greedy pussy already hungry for more. The way he's looking down at you with so much need gets you so hot inside. A heat that only increases when he starts pumping his fingers in and out. Grim works you open with one hand and pumps his fat cock with the other.
This entire situation has you pent up and impatient so you pull his hand away and sit up, "I can take it now." He can't help but groan at your words but remains concerned at the perceived lack of prep. Whenever he fools around with humans most of the engagement is spent just doing prep so he's more than a little worried, "Are you sure?"
You don't reply as you gently take his fully hard cock from his hand, holding it up against your stomach to see how far inside you this thing could go. You both groan at the comparison between his ridiculously massive dick and your body, he reaches way past your belly button and into your stomach. Definitely more than a human could safely take. You adjust your legs so that you're almost squatting on his lap, your feet plant on the seat on either side of his hips.
You support yourself with your hand resting on the seat between his legs and lift yourself so you can rub your wetness along the length of his cock. He brings his rough hands to hold your hips gently, not applying pressure but just resting there so he can have something to hold.
You lift yourself up until his tip is in-line with your entrance, slowly rubbing it against your clit. You both groan lightly when the tip pops in and you slowly ease yourself down his cock. He's amazed at how easy your cunt swallows him. You pause half way down to adjust and give a few pumps to the rest of him before your hand leaves his cock to settle next to your other hand on the chair in front of you. He squeezes your hips a little in silent concern and you smile before easing the rest of him in, gently descending until you reach the hilt. Your pubes kiss his and he can't help but let out a weak moan at the sight and feeling of you taking all of him. Finally feeling tight walls grip the entire length of his cock has him reeling. You're overwhelmed as well, It's been a while since you've taken someone this big.
You slowly circle your hips around so that you really feel his cock against your walls deep inside you, you're obviously very pleased with yourself. Grim is seeing stars, eyes shut, head tilted back, trying to regain himself even a little while his literal dreams are coming true.
"Well, we know it works. I guess that's it then." You move to lift yourself off his cock as if your work is done.
"Nononono, Please no. Please."
Comes Grim's hasty but soft displeasure, both his thick arms circle around your waist to keep you in place as he leans against your back, head resting on your shoulder.
"What's the matter big guy?" You lean into his chest, stroke his arm and turn your head to look at him. He huffs, you know exactly what's the matter. He takes a deep breath and lifts his head to look at you.
"I need you."
Your heart jumps in your chest.
"I need you to fuck me...please."
You look up at him, wide eyes, mouth agape as he looks back down at you. The moment is almost sweet until your mouth forms into an evil grin and you snicker softly, a dreadfully familiar mischievous glint in your eyes. Grim closes his eyes and almost regrets all the choices that lead him here.
"Riiight~. I almost forgot, this is probably the first time you've actually been able to fuck someone sooo much smaller than you."
"Poor guy, you must be so pent up, huh?"
You reach down to gently hold his massive ballsack, making him suck in a breath and twitch his thighs.
All he can do is let out a choked moan of your name which only makes you chuckle.
"I can really play the part for you, if you'd like. Y'know the, "Ah, your so deep!" and "You're filling this human pussy up so good!""
You laugh when you feel his dick twitch. Poor Grim can only grip your waist and try to keep his hot face from getting hotter. He looks down at you with pleading eyes and you decide you're not so evil after all. You pat his arms and move them so he's holding your waist. He startles a little when you playfully kiss him on the cheek.
"I've got you big guy."
You lean forward again with your feet under you and start to lift yourself up very slowly until the top of his cock is juuust about to pop out. Your thighs burn as you stay there for a few seconds, teasing Grim and yourself. Grim thinks he might actually cry if you don't move.
Suddenly you grip the edge of the chair and force yourself down hard on his cock, taking him all the way to the hilt in one hard thrust. You both groan very loudly, he downright yelps with the sudden movement. You grip the chair and clench around him so hard he can't help the way he grips your waist tightly. One hand covers his mouth as he tips his head back and tries to not cum immediately. He tries to regain his breathing but you have other plans. You can feel him twitch inside you and a desperate need to be filled engulfs you.
You start thrusting up and down on his dick, moving your whole body up and down his length. It's a good thing he can't see your face because you are enjoying this way too much. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you bite your lip, the sensation of being filled to the literal brim is intoxicating. You work yourself and him so diligently, it's no time before your thrusts become more frantic and you're right at the peak. With one final deliberate thrust you cum hard around him, clenching and unclenching like you're trying to milk him dry.
You both moan freely now, though his are more like growls. Your pulsing walls quickly lead him to his own climax, holding you close to his chest and thrusting up into your cunt, spilling hot seed deep inside your womb. You shake and squirm even more with the blissful feeling of your walls being coated with his spend.
After a few moments of you two spasming and twitching you eventually ease up and fall limply against his chest, adjusting your thighs to rest on top of his again. You breathe out a long sigh and bask in the fullness of your cunt, stroking your stomach up and down.
You're blissfully unaware of the knowing smirk that grows on his face. He cards his fingers through his hair, composing himself a little more. His warm hand joins yours in caressing up and down the expanse of your stomach and chest, loving how small you feel in his hold.
"You've done this before." His voice comes out in a low growl that makes you shiver, not expecting it. You crane your head up to see him smirking down at you and all you can do is sit and stare. He chuckles deeply,
"There ain't no way, this is your first time taking a cock this size."
You stumble for words but none come out. His hands caress your thighs and one hand comes up to gently hold your jaw. He leans down really close to your face.
"You're a size queen."
You suck in a breath and your pussy clenches involuntarily around his cock which you only noticed now hasn't gone down at all. Grim laughs louder this time.
"I should've known the second you pulled out that spellbook."
You sit there, quite embarrassed at being caught. You smack his hand away from your waist.
"Shut up, you're the one with the-"
"Yes, we both know about my kinks, you teased me about it enough which is very hypocritical of you."
Grim is just loving the way you fluster and fumble for words right now.
"Oh, so you don't have a thing for inhumanly huge cock?"
He challenges and uses both his hands to bring your naked thighs to your chest, exposing your pussy, leaking with his seed.
"So you don't like the way I stretch and fill this little human pussy?"
You can't help but whine at his dirty words and the position he's binding you into. His cock adjusting inside of you, hitting a new spot.
"If you don't, I guess I could just pull out and-"
"Nonononono... Grim Cmon."
You frantically babble your disagreement, shaking your head. He chuckles again, very pleased with himself at turning the tables on you but thankfully for you he's not as evil as you are and his dick is still painfully hard.
"Alright Darlin, I'll take care of you."
He lifts himself from the chair, leaving a puddle of both of you when he stands. He comforts your whines when he pulls out to set you ass up on the table and just stands at the edge, one hand on his hip and the other leisurely stroking his cock.
You look back at him with confusion, expecting him to just fuck you over the table already.
"If you ask nicely."
He says looking real smug, you sigh in defeat and turn your body so that you're facing him. You disappear the rest of your clothes, leaving you stark naked on the large kitchen table you were just eating breakfast at. That realisation makes him pump his cock harder.
You press your knees as close to your chest as possible and bring your hands down to your puffy, leaking pussy. You spread your folds for him with your fingers and say, as sexily as you can manage.
"Please fuck me Grim."
Grim is so fucking floored, he's cursing himself for not thinking of doing this sooner. He sighs and pumps his cock harder, lining the leaking tip up to your pussy lips. He eases it inside and the new position makes for a new sensation for both of you as different spots are brushed and tension melts away. Once he's balls deep again he gently worms his arm underneath your back to lift you up with ease. You wrap your arms around his neck for support being mindful not to pull his hair. Suddenly you're face to face, looking into his eyes for the first time since you started.
You look into his dark eyes and they relax you, this is your best friend, you trust him. His eyes leave yours to stare at your parted lips. When he sees that familiar quirk on your lips he looks back to your eyes, catching the mischievous glint. You lean closer so that your noses are just brushing against eachother. You feel his breath hitch when your lips meet his. He spares no time getting into it and moves his lips against yours. You make out while he adjusts your body in his hold, one hand on your ass and the other on your waist.
He then, without warning, lifts you up and brings you down hard thrusting the whole length of his cock into you in one hearty thrust. You break from the sloppy kiss for a moment to groan out in absolute ecstasy, loving the way he takes the lead from you effortlessly. He brings down your whole body to meet his upwards thrusts. The way he's basically using your entire body like a fleshlight makes you embarrassingly horny.
It feels like it's been years since you were fucked like this, the way your body is reacting, so sensitive you're sure you could cum again any minute. This is exasperated greatly when he brings you closer to his chest with one arm locked around you so that he can worm his other hand in-between you two and rub at your engorged clit.
You grab at his wrist as he frantically works you to your climax, you basically scream when you finally reach that high. Clenching and shaking on his cock while he holds you up with his buff arms. You cling into him so tightly, getting drool on his shirt. You even squirt a little, getting your wetness all over his cock and the floor. Your intense climax once again has him reeling. The sight of you clinging onto him, squirting and losing yourself on his cock makes his balls clench painfully as his frantic thrusts turn faster and sloppier. He reaches his climax as he holds you close, groaning into your neck, pumping another thick load deep into you.
You both stay like that for a while, coming down from your respective highs. Your fingers slowly unclench from his shirt moving down to lazily caress his chest, feeling it move with his breaths as you rest your head on his shoulder.
He slowly manoeuvres your legs so he can sit back down on the chair, holding you to his chest. His hand strokes down your back as you both soak in the warm, tranquil after glow. His breathing evens out to a steady rhythm and your eyes flutter closed.
Knock knock knock
You both jolt awake and stare at each other wide eyed and then at the front door, which is very much visible from the kitchen. You both stay quiet and he holds you closer to hide your fully naked body if the rude intruder somehow manages to break the door down.
Knock knock knock
"Uhh Mr Grimmock Sir?"
The tension in Grim's body sags when he hears who's on the other side of the door. A hand goes to massage his impending migraine.
"BOY! What do you want?!"
You can imagine the way the poor fishing boy cringes at the anger in Grim's voice.
"Sorry Sir, I was wondering if you could give me some extra lessons on the boat?"
Grim growls in frustration, you chuckle in amusement and start kissing up his neck which settles him down a little.
"Tomorrow lad, it's Sunday."
"But I was-"
"Tomorrow."
The finality in his tone seems to get through to the young man as he mutters an "Alright Sir, see you then." Before walking off, his steps getting lighter and lighter.
"He doesn't want to work all week but suddenly he wants to work on Sunday?!"
Grim's irritation is clear as he gestures to the door incredulously. You can't help but laugh at the orcs misfortune. You settle your arms around his broad shoulders, one hand playing with his hair as his hand begins to stroke down your back again.
"Thank you for...helping out"
He says, quite genuinely.
"Anytime."
You throw him a thumbs up and he has to laugh and shake his head at the award winning nonchalance. When the amusement fades though he leans forward in the chair and brings his hands lower to cup your ass cheeks.
"Anytime?"
You can feel his soft cock gradually hardening inside your pussy and you look up at him in utter disbelief.
"Unbelievable."
You shake your head and chastise him but the smile that breaks on your face rats you put. He grins and lifts you up, walking out of the kitchen. His mouth marks up your neck and his stubble tickles, dull tusks dig into the sensitive skin.
"Just unbelievable."
You mutter to yourself again as your legs hug around his waist tighter and you feel his cum dripping out of your hole, leaving a trail all the way to his bedroom.
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boowritess · 8 months ago
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very mild 18+ simon riley x reader
lmaoo i can't breathe Simon Riley is just a man.
atleast to you.
when he's home, all he is to you is dry humor, a couple beers every night, sat in front of the tv on his spot on the couch, the game is playing - some soccor or rugby match. he doesn't wear his mask, his clothes are a simple t-shirt and some pair of shorts he just threw on.
he uses your shampoo and conditioner, as much as it pisses you off because it's expensive and for some reason he uses half the fucking bottle everytime he's home, but when he does the groceries he still comes home with '2 in 1 shampoo and conditioner' he would’ve got the '3 in 1' but the last time he did that he got no head for 3 weeks.
he'll go to the pub, take you out, pushes the trolley, holds your bag, let's you dress how you want it, belly gets a little soft because he eats food like he's never ate before, buy you anything you want even after the 'do you really need it though?' talk.
he's bit lazy on workouts only goes on the occasional run, but will fuck you whenever you want; always vanilla and only gets rough when you ask.
he will say he'll fix whatever appliance needs tending too but won't do it right away, starts the occasional handyman job at odd times.
it's just - he's so mundane and normal that you'd never know just how dangerous he is ???? like he so carefully hides that side from you. seriously. when he's home, he throws his gear in the bottom of his closet in a box, locking Ghost away and just existing as Simon.
even when the rest of the task force come around on the occasion. they're so normal and are just... men. yelling at the tv during a sport match. teasing each other. stealing snacks and helping with cleaning. they never speak about work and when you ask them, it's always a smile and shrug, "just another day really." "little boring and slow." "oh not too bad." their answers are so half-assed, that you don't even ask anymore; which is what they want.
but you really aren't missing anything. not when you don't even know what you're missing out on.
it's crazy, because he even keeps Ghost hidden when you're being harassed by men. whether that be when you're shopping or just going for a walk.
he'll loop an arm around your waist or over your shoulder, look at the guy with a grin - that's more of a sneer, "can i help you, mate?" he'll drawl. his stature and stare is enough to make the man who had been harassing you back off.
"what a freak..." you mutter with a roll of your eyes, letting Simon guide you away as he presses a kiss to your temple, a deep chuckle leaving him.
around midnight you wake up to Simon in the laundry room washing his hands. he doesn't blink or hesitate when you wonder in and wrap your arms around his waist. "what're you doing?" you mumble, sleepy eyss dropping to the sink.
Simon's hands are red, and you would be alarmed, should be alarmed. but how could you when Simon hums softly, a sound that rumbles deep from his throat, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. he's so warm and casual that you don't even do a touble take seeing the blood.
"caught a rat. right pest they are. the trap i set snapped it clean in half." Simon's mutters, he raises a bloodied hand to you, sniggering when you crinkle your nose up in disgust and step away from him.
"ew, i'm going back to bed." you huff, yawning and leaving him to what he was doing.
Simon laughs softly as you head off. "just be a sec, love." he says as you go. all he receives is a yawn and a tired 'mhm'.
he cleans his hands and then his phone chimes. he pulls it out and it's a private message.
'getting rid of your pest now, LT.'
image attached
Simon opens the picture and sure enough there's the man from earlier in the boot of a car. all bloodied like Ghost left him.
Simon heads back upstairs to your shared room, you quietly snoozing away. you don't steer or wake as the closet door opens and Simon's putting his mask back in with his gear. No. Ghost is too quiet to let you wake from such a warm and sweet sleep.
he turns from the closet after putting everything away and changing clothes. he crawls into his side of the bed and wraps his arms around you. letting your body nestle back into his side. limbs tangling together.
just you and your simon.
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a/n: inspired by a tik tok video on how he is just a man lmaooo
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yanderenightmare · 13 days ago
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♡ TW: omegeverse, omega reader, forced mating, near noncon, threats
♡ GN reader
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You tried running away from your mate again. And he decides to teach you a life lesson by taking you to the only place stray omegas earn a living.
He’s not giving you the time to catch your breath—keeping his hand unforgivingly tight around your wrist, pulling you along while you cry at his back—grip so tight you think he might squeeze your hand clean off as he drags you through the funhouse—through horror-filled corridors featuring piles of sweaty bodies belonging to big grunting alphas and smaller whimpering omegas.
“This where you wanna end up?” He yanks you to a stop once you reach the thick of it—holding you harshly against his chest with a mean grip on your face, forcing you to look at the fray. “Another free-use whore?”
You shake your head, but you struggle to make the words known, “N-no–no.” Breath jumping in your throat while new tears keep bubbling in your eyes, streaming heavy down your sore cheeks. 
“Tch–you wanna be a stray that badly. That's fine by me,” he scoffs and shoves you forward where a sticky bed receives you—slipping between busy bodies that immediately notice the arrival of fresh meat. 
“No–please-” you squeak, but no one can hear you. 
Or maybe they do, but your voice doesn't matter. Not here.
Not anywhere…
Greedy hands, much stronger than you, grab at you, ripping your clothes, yanking your hair, doing what they want with you because that’s the only thing omegas like you are worth—to be used until you’re not wanted anymore.
Or, that’s the lesson he’s trying to teach you anyway.
But he pulls you out of the pit before you’re devoured—left shell-shocked and shaking. Cloths torn and hair wild, you can barely stand on your own two feet—looking faint yet wide awake in panic all at the same time—clinging to him with trembling fists.
“Do you understand now?” He cups your face roughly, forcing you to look at him whilst declaring, “The only safe place for an omega is by an alpha’s side.”
Your lip warbles, eyes large and glassy, looking up into his harsh ones while he grits his teeth and continues to bark, “You can either be my mate, or I leave you here for good.”
You sniffle—body still reeling from almost being savaged by a pack of rut-happy mongrels—wanting nothing more than to go back the way you came—preferring to be kept within his gilded cage above being a bone in this awful scrapyard he threatened to abandon you in.
“Which will it be?”
You wring his shirt as tears continue to roll down your sorry cheeks, held tightly in his rough palm.
“Home…” you cry weakly. "I wanna go home."
He sighs and eases his grip, letting you hide your face against his chest, left sobbing from the hard-learned lesson.
He puts his hand on your head, giving it a pet.
“Good.”
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♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks, Overhaul ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Naoya ♡ HQ – Kageyama, Sakusa, Miya twins ♡ DS – Muzan, Sanemi ♡ HxH – Illumi
♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist
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mayullla · 1 month ago
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Title: His Dream Wife
Character(s): Richard (Original character / Original work)
Synopsis: He always wanted a perfect family, but life never gave him what he wanted. Instead, he was blackmailed into marrying a gold digger. But after seeing you for the first time the wife of his friend all he could think of was you. So don't mind him when he was given the option to swap his wife's consciousness with yours he took that chance immediately.
Warnings/tags: Yandere Dilf x meek reader, yandere pov, general yandere themes, body swap between reader and Yandere's wife, cheating (not done by reader), arranged, baby trapping, Yandere wants that traditional wife and lifestyle. Word count: 4.2k (Please tell me if I miss anything!)
Note: I just finished reading the webtoon "Marry My Husband," so you can probably see many small ideas taken from it in this story!
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Ever since he was young, Richard had fantasies and dreams of a perfect family. He always loved the idea of someone relying on him just as much as he would on them, and someone who would love him exclusively and trust him completely. Maybe that was why he liked wolves, having been told back then that those animals would mate for life. He liked that. He wanted that. Friends were nice there is nothing wrong with that. But there is something about a family that he wanted. Maybe it was because he was jealous back then of how affectionate his grandparents were between each other, while his parents were far from that.
That was what he wanted and well maybe he started to want a little more the older he got. He wanted what his grandparents had, he wanted what the movies had… he wanted what his fantasies had. He loved the idea of a family, coming back from work to an affectionate housewife with her tummy big inside a second or third child while holding the first. The idea of kisses between each other, while his lover irrupts in giggles, playfully pushing him back telling him that he should not let the food turn cold or let the kids see them.
Someone he could spoil and give everything to while she relied on him and his money. He would work hard every day just for her and the kids, to give them the home they deserve. She would give back by cooking and cleaning the house, anybody knows that those things are hard work and everything takes time. But she would do it for the both of them, for him. 
Yet he wasn't able to attain that dream. He wasn't allowed to have it. He attracted the attention of a viel woman, who had used any and every blackmail to tie him down to her. He was a manager at a big company already quickly climbing up but also came from a rich family, he unwantedly got the attention of a woman who was greedy for money and something handsome. 
And her own manager was ripe for the picking.
She did many things but somehow he was able to avoid many of them however that could only go on for so long. She was cunning, too smart for her own good. He didn't know how she did it, it made him furious at what she did waking up in a hotel with her right beside him. He had no memories of the night yet she did when she told everyone that she had his baby a month later.
Everyone was frantic, his parents especially who cared so much about their appearance and reputation than anything else. While he hated them for the lack of love or care only forcing him to their whims to get a word above their acquaintances and rivals. The idea of him their own son mudding their name with the fact that he got someone pregnant without marriage made them furious. They wanted him to marry her immediately and he had no choice not when they held his job, reputation, and life above him not when that woman too did the same with her connections and people behind the scenes. It was idiotic that he fell into her hands like this, no matter what he did she did not let go and sank her claws deep into his skin.
Richard wanted to know if this child was his, but there was no time when everybody demanded his and that woman didn't give him a chance to check. Only to cry after the marriage that the child from miscarriage due to stress from his selfishness. Many blamed him even though he knew that she was lying this whole time but no matter what he said her crocodile tears worked far better than any explanation.
He was furious, angered by everything that happened but he wasn't allowed to do anything he wasn't allowed to break up with her. His life, everything that he worked for had turned to nothing by this woman. She could care less about love or something genuine and only cared about his money, demanding that he give her money to go shopping to buy expensive brand items and clothing while also going to parties and bars with her friends coming back home late leaving only a mess with how drunk she was.
Some days she would not come home at all and he assumed that she was with another man, as he didn't give in to her sexual demands even if they were husband and wife. At this point, the idea of touching her body even her hand disgusted him.
He thought he lost everything, he felt hopeless when he could not break up with that woman who made sure that he could not have a divorce without destroying his reputation and paying her a huge amount of cash. She was insane.
Rather than be with her he would rather drown in his work in his office. The house smelled like her strong perfume that could only make his head hurt the moment he took one whiff of it even though that woman wasn't even in the house having already left to head to the next new bar that opened up in the city.
That was his life, he genuinely thought that this was his ending, a story that didn't end so well, yet unable to change anything with knives around his neck daring him to move. But in the end, nothing is concrete, sometimes all it takes is helping an old lady who just so happens to be a fortune teller. 
Typing away at his computer late at night in his office as he looked at the time, his thoughts could not help but let his thoughts drift for a moment. Richard closed his eyes slightly burning from looking at the laptop for too long. Leaning his chair, he pulled his tie down a little as he thought about this afternoon when he helped out a poor fortune teller the old woman after picking some stuff up at the market, who looked to be in her 80s stuck outside homeless and struggling to open her shop. As she had dropped something that had rolled towards him he picked it up and gave it to the old lady. He didn't know what moved him to help her. But as a present, he had gotten a small viel.
"Thank you for your help. You are quite the hard worker." The old woman said, sitting on the chair when everything was finally set up. She looked at him with a sly smile on her face. The old woman he later realized had a way of speaking, that wasn't normal. Weird yet at the same time sharp... too sharp. “Too bad you are stuck with such a mean spirit woman. How you handle such a woman for so long now… I am impressed.” Sharp as in she knew too much than he would have liked for a stranger to know.
"Buahahaha, don't worry boy this would be the last you would ever hear from me after this." The old woman laughed at his stiff glare. He didn't know how she did it but she seemed to know a lot about his relationship with his wife and the trouble that he was in yet at the same time she had a knack for poking at his sore spots. 
Before Richard could think about calling the police she suddenly pulled out a vial inside containing a blue liquid, "You help me with my little trouble so I want to give you a little something, that could help you with your own little trouble. Besides, I couldn't resist helping someone in need.” 
“A little swap potion, let your wife and your sweetheart drink it and they will swap at the start of the next day. The lil spell would wear off in a month but if there is nothing to return to… well then that means nothing could even happen. Dont yah think so boy? Haha!” He took the vial from the lady, thinking about throwing it when she was nowhere in sight. The creepy grin didn't match her so-called kind action, but she was not finished with talking.
“You better move fast my boy, that woman will make sure you will be dead before a year. It is very easy to hide evidence with a car crash.”
After that, it was difficult to throw the thin vial. Part of him could not drop the liquid into the bin, so he stored it on his office desk, locked but with a key, along with other important documents and such.
"Richard!! Why did you not show up at the dinner party?! Do you know how much embarrassment you have caused me?" his wife screamed. He couldn't help but groan in annoyance the moment he walked through the entrance. It was too early in the morning for such screaming, but she just continued on and on: "And why are you here now?!! It is the next day!? Explain yourself!"
"I don't need to explain myself to you at all." Walking past his wife who was glaring daggers at him. The more he learned about his wife the more he realized that she was similar to his parents, cared only about reputation, and was selfish putting themselves first before anything else. Hypocrites. "I had to finish up some work so I stayed at my office. I needed to finish all the file work before the meeting." Unlike a certain someone who would come home the next day afternoon after being in someone else's arms. 
Walking into his own home, he could not recognize it... everything was thrown about and trashed everywhere. Expensive decorations on the floor and shattered. Sofa and pillows ripped letting cotton spill from them. Walls wet and dirty with glass cups, and pots of plants shattered on the floor. Looking at everything he kept his anger internally holding everything in as he continued to walk towards his office and bedroom locked with a key.
This wasn't the first time this happened, he had found out that there was no use to teaching someone who saw no reason to change her ways. He just needs to call in some cleaners, replace the things that broke and that was it.
Heading to his home office to place his bag on the table he suddenly received a text on his phone. Pulling out the device to check who it was while the woman continued to scream at him.
"That doesn't explain why you didn't tell me you couldn't join the dinner!" It was because she wouldn't listen, no matter what. If he had told her, she would have either demanded that he come or screamed at him—first on the phone, then again when he got home. "Answer your phone when I call! Are you even listening to me?!"
He knew of the calls and messages. She had been calling non-stop and texting for an hour since he didn't come to her friends' dinner. He just didn't care to answer and left it on mute to let him focus on his work. Looking at the sender he couldn't help but sigh.
"Hey, I am talking to you!" Her shrill screaming was mind-numbing as he got his clothes unable to stand her voice and would rather change elsewhere. "RICHARD!!!"
He quickly left the house and got into his car, ignoring the high-heeled shoe that was thrown at him—missing as it landed. Starting the engine, he drove off, tuning out her shouts.
It was past midnight, and he was alone on the road. No one else was in sight. As he waited at a red light, he pulled out his phone to check a message. It was from a "friend" he had made at university, inviting him to dinner the next day. The guy had always been friendly—or at least tried to be. He had the personality of a know-it-all, and while he didn’t care for him much, it seemed the guy had once considered them friends. That was until money and popularity got to his head.
The guy knew a lot and had multiple connections and friends, he was the one who helped him find a cleaner will to keep silent about everything that happened in the house after the housemaid quit due to his wife assuming that he and the maid had done something sexual in the bedroom. The woman was crying as her hair had been pulled and her face slapped by his wife.
He also had seen the lust in that friend's eyes whenever he looked at her. Even after the guy was married for over a year he still looked at another wife with lust, it was disgusting to Richard that his friend would do such a thing but as the guy had helped him with a few of his troubles he didn't just cut him away.
The message was an invite for a double date. Having just left his house and his furious wife behind (not that he would ever take her anywhere unless absolutely forced), he tried to decline, saying that his wife was a bit "busy."
[Dude, dont worry about it and just come then.]
[Won't it be awkward for your wife?]
[It doesn't matter she would just say that it is fine either way.]
[Don't leave me here with her. You have already talked with her either way it is not a problem anymore. ]
From what he remembered it seemed that it was an arranged marriage between the two. Something that was decided by their parents for the benefit of their companies. The guy absolutely hated the fact that he was pushed into this marriage and had nothing good to say about his wife but that was a goody two shoes and boring. "She lacks the wildness that I am looking for." The guy said he was drinking in a bar one time having called him to express his frustrations after an official meeting with her. "She probably doesn't know anything except how to clean dishes.”
"I would not leave the house with a babe like yours. How do you keep everything in your pants?" The guy asked too drunk from all the alcohol to be careful with his words. "You might like my fiance a lot with your uptight attitude and lack of fun. Maybe we should switch wives later. Hey, wanna wife swap one time? It would be fun~~."
He had ignored the very obvious lust in the guy’s eyes, choosing not to address it and instead steer the conversation elsewhere. In the end, between hiccups, the guy told him he’d introduce him to his future wife and insisted that he should come to the wedding.
A few days later, with the invitation in hand, he attended the wedding. There, he saw the guy’s wife—and he was absolutely floored.
It was just a moment. A fleeting glimpse. He caught sight of her for only a second, walking toward his friend across the hall. Through the open door of the bride's room, he saw her, and he froze.
She was stunning.
He could not believe that a woman like you would become the wife of the guy. He wanted to take a step back to see you again, yet when his wife called him he was forced to start walking again not wanting to cause a scene due to her fickle pride. 
After all, he could see you again on the walkway when the wedding starts.
But he didn't want to leave either way.
Seated on the husband's side as the music stopped hinting to the guest that it was about to start soon. He watched as his friend walked the aisle, knowing but not commenting on the dirty slutish look his wife was giving to the guy looking at him up and down and waiting for you to show up.
You arrived soon after, dressed elegantly and sophisticated holding bouquets of flowers. He noticed how pretty you were, your walk and movements were elegant and soft, a far cry to his wife who walked to call the men's attention dressed a little too revealing for the formal occasion.
Would he have married a woman like you if this wench hadn’t come to destroy his life? Would he have married you if your parents and your friend’s family hadn’t forced the two of you into it? If this wasn’t some kind of mask, and this really was you, he wouldn’t have any complaints about being stuck with you. In fact, he would have demanded it—forced it, if he could. But that wasn’t how life turned out... You were not his.
The wedding soon came to an end and that was it. Legally you were tied to his friend while he was already stuck with his own problems. It wasn't fair. He just couldn't let it go as he stayed in his seat even after the end of the wedding speech as everybody started to leave to eat and dance. While his wife went to meet up with the groom he stayed where he was just thinking.
How surprised he was that he ended up meeting you so soon.
The guy had invited him to dinner a few times and he quickly understood that it was to have someone else in the group after the guy was forced by his parents to take you out a few times. But that didn't matter to him when he was finally able to talk to you, to chat with you.
When he reached the restaurant, the guy stood up after a small conversation, stating that he needed to run to the bathroom, take a call, or use some other excuse he had up his sleeve. He left the table for as long as possible only to come back near the end with maybe a lipstick on his shirt or something. And if Richard’s wife was there, the guy would start subtlety flirting with his wife, uncaring if he or his own wife was there, not that the woman herself cared.
He pitied you, as you kept on your smile even when your eyes swirled with an understanding of your place, yet at the same time, you were still so hurt. You were silent for the most part keeping to yourself.
You and he become rather close but not really, it was a kind of comradery of your situations or that was what he would like to think. Whenever you and him were left alone, rather than keep the awkward air around he would start to talk to you.
You were a little flustered at first but slowly you started to get used to talking with him. Chatting amicably as if enjoying the conversation between you and him. He also did enjoy conversing with you. No heavy topics, it wasn't business or anything to do with work but stuff like traveling, hobbies, and favorite food. The things that you would like to do if you only had the time or chance to do them. 
You weren't loud but you were delicate, gentle, and easy to fluster too. You were polite and careful with your words but also curious asking him many questions when he talks about his own stories. You would keep all your attention on him, even if he noticed you didn't seem maybe that interested in a topic or two.
There was one time he went to your apartment, an invitation from your husband who invited him and his wife. Your place was in a high-end apartment probably paid by the family, with decorations that were chic and modern but there was also a homely feeling to the place, cleaned and cared for with love, unlike his messed up house. The smell of the house was similar to that of a fragrant laundry detergent instead of strong perfume. Just for a moment, he realized that you were the one who did all this when he saw you coming out from the kitchen unwrapping the apron you were wearing.
Just for a moment you gave him an actual vision of a home, a vision of what he wanted so much and could have had yet was taken away from him. You gave him a vision of what it would be like to have a wife who cares so much. 
He could not help but crumble and fall.
He started to crave for you, the more he chatted with you the more he fell every night he fantasized about you in his arms. He wished... he craved for you so much that he thought he started having delusions that you were his. At night, he couldn’t close his eyes without seeing you clearly in the darkness.
But you just had to break everything, you just had to slam a hammer to his dreams and fantasies just like everyone else.
"I'm sorry," you said, a sorrowful smile on your lips. "I know my husband is using you to get out of our date. I apologize for taking up your time when you're so busy. Please, I’ll make sure this doesn't happen again. You don’t have to come every time he asks you to. I’m sure you’re busy too."
Why...? Why did you say that? He thought you knew that he already understood. He thought you knew that it didn’t bother him at all—especially when you both always had such enjoyable conversations. Why did you apologize? Why would you tell him to stop coming? Why were you pushing him away?
Your eyes looked at him in sorry and guilt and it clicked you were scared you were so scared that something wrong might happen. Because in the end, you were loyal, loyal to a man who didn't even love you.
It made him livid. 
Even if you thought you knew more than he did, he was the one who knew more. He knew well what your husband does on nights that he isn't home, where he goes, and what he does there. In Richard’s own house, he could hear the sounds of two people with familiar voices thinking they were alone. 
His wife and your husband.
You didn't know that, while you probably knew that he partied every day you seemed to have hope that he didn't have the audacity to lay in bed with another married woman much less the wife of his own friend. He didn't care who that guy lay with, but it made him irritated that a guy like him had you.
That appointment ended up awkward. Too awkward as both of you waited for your husband to arrive. The guy knew something was up the moment he arrived but seemed to choose not to say anything having enough tack not to right at that moment when he usually didn't.
Looking at the message again he sighed declining the invite again even when the guy tried to put up a fuss. It was just that he could not face you right now, not when you made it clear that all you felt towards him was guilt.
If only it was you... if only he had found you first if that woman didn't chain herself to him using blackmail and connections.
If he could just swap his wife with you he would have been happier... he would have the life he wished he had and he would spoil you with all his love and time. While you would wait oh so lovingly for him while cooking and cleaning while he worked to bring the money to keep you happy materially. He would be a better husband than your own and he already knew that you would be a far more better wife than his own.
But you just had to draw that line. That line of law and morality.
Watching the road as he drove, he could not help but let annoyance fester him at this whole situation till he saw a poster pass by him. Purple with a familiar design that he saw just this morning. Something to do with a certain fortune teller who knew a little too much and who gave him a small vial.
Truthfully he didn't believe in such things, but part of him had become so desperate that he just could not think straight. He was desperate and he knew that the old woman knew that and was laughing at him for it.
"Here yah go. This is a little something that would have cost a shit ton but I am gonna give it to you for free." The old woman cackled, she was having way too much fun knowing his situation. "If you plan to add this to a drink don't worry about the colour at all."
He didn't believe in such things. But there was a whisper in his mind a little spell in his brain that told him that this would work. That there was something different about that mad woman who probably lived only in entertainment.
His hand moved before he could even think about it, accepting the dinner invitation as he finally reached his office. It was supposed to be closed, but a few employees were pulling an all-nighter, so the building wasn't locked. In his mind, all he could think about was the life he once dreamed of—the life that had been taken away from him. All he wanted was a life with you, and that thing—that vial—would be the answer to all his problems.
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witchywithwhiskey · 2 months ago
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a halloween trick and a halloween treat
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pairing: cat shifter!bucky barnes x female reader
summary: you wake shortly after midnight on halloween, thinking it must've been your rescue cat disturbing you. but when you discover a naked, sleeping stranger in your bed, you're in for a much bigger surprise.
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), monsterfucking, shifter dynamics (mating, purring, a nonhuman cock), sorta fated mates, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, nipple sucking, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (f receiving), multiple orgasms, dry humping, light bdsm dynamics, lots of check-ins, biting, dirty talk, alpha kink, praise kink, pet names (koshechka [russian for kitty]), aftercare, very fluffy happy ending
word count: 12.9k
a/n: i had the idea for this fic so many weeks ago i don't even remember what inspired it, but i thought it might be a fun halloween fic! i struggled a bit with this fic, especially the magic and justifying bucky's decisions, so i hope it all makes sense!! suspension of disbelief is your friend with this one 😅 anyway i hope y'all enjoy!! ♡
halloween fics masterlist
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Something was…off. 
It was the middle of the night, the waxing moon shining brightly through the curtains of your bedroom, an October chill in the air, and you’d been woken by… something. A sound, maybe? 
It wasn’t uncommon for your rescue cat to wake you up in the middle of the night by knocking something over or playing with one of the many toys you’d gotten him. Sometimes, he’d even wake you up when he gently padded onto your bed in the middle of the night to snuggle into your body over the covers.
You smiled sleepily at the memory of having been woken up plenty of times in that manner since you’d found the Russian Blue trapped in a bucket behind your apartment building the previous November. You’d named the cat Bucky, which you could admit wasn’t the most creative idea you’d ever had, but it fit the mischievous feline. 
At the very least, you certainly understood how he’d gotten himself trapped in that bucket, since he’d gotten himself stuck in any number of places around your apartment in the year since you’d brought him home, yowling for help until you rescued him. 
In fact, you sometimes thought he got himself stuck on purpose for the sole reason of getting your attention—and the soothing snuggles you offered him afterward, cooing soft words about how he was your precious, handsome man in his soft little ears. 
But that October evening, almost a year after you’d brought the cat home from the vet with a clean bill of health, you strained your ears to listen to the dark stillness of your apartment. You couldn’t hear the telltale padding of Bucky’s paws, or feel his warm body curled up next to yours. 
Something still felt…different. Off.
Thinking about it more, you thought you felt a weight on the other side of your queen-sized bed. When you shifted, and the covers caught on something, as if they were being weighed down by something, you thought you must’ve been woken by Bucky jumping onto the bed and curling up to sleep.
Your eyes were still closed and you were snuggled deep beneath your blankets, but you pushed an arm free, reaching across your bed, your fingers seeking the soft fur of your cat. But when you searched the spot just below the other pillow you kept on your bed—in the hopes that you’d one day have a partner to share your bed with—you didn’t feel Bucky.
You felt bare skin. Warm, bare skin. Warm bare skin covering a broad, muscled back. 
Pulling your hand back with a hiss, you wrenched your eyes open and found that it wasn’t your rescue cat in bed with you—it was a man. A man with his broad back turned to you, his soft brown hair messy on the other pillow and his spine curved like he was curled into himself. 
And when your eyes trailed down the length of his back, you realized with a gasp that this stranger was naked. In your bed. In the middle of the night. 
What the actual fuck!? 
You sucked in a sharp inhale, your lungs filling as your body prepared to let loose the shrillest scream you could manage, because what the fuck!? 
The man must’ve been woken by your gasps or your movement, because before you could make another sound, his head rolled over on the pillow and he blinked at you.
His eyes…
For a moment, they seemed to shine yellow in the moonlight—so much like Bucky’s when you were snuggling in bed before falling asleep. It stole the breath from your lungs, and your scream died in your throat. 
As you watched, the man’s eyes shifted into a calm, piercing blue, and you had the odd feeling you recognized them. It almost looked like they were the same shade as your Russian Blue’s, even if they looked so different, so human.
The man’s eyes flickered with confusion and his soft lips pulled down into a frown. He reached a hand out to you, as if wanting to comfort you, but jerked to a sudden stop, his gaze falling on his own hand and staring at it as if it wasn’t his own. 
He looked almost as disturbed as you felt finding a strange man sleeping naked in your bed.
The moment he’d looked away from you, you’d filled your lungs with more air, preparing to finally scream for help, and the man’s gaze flicked back to you. Just before you could scream, the man moved swiftly, rolling over and throwing his body on top of yours. 
His strong arms caged you in beneath the blankets and his broad, warm chest pressed down on yours, keeping you pinned but not crushing you. The man’s hand cupped the back of your head and pressed your face into the curve at the base of his neck, effectively muffling your scream into his smooth skin. 
It all happened so fast, you didn’t have a chance to feel scared, and a second later, a purring sound filled your ears. Vibrations seemed to come from the man on top of you, making your entire body hum pleasantly from the sensation traveling through the blankets that were trapped between your bodies. 
It was remarkably comforting…and oddly familiar in a way you couldn’t place. It made you feel…safe. 
So safe that your body, which had been tensed with fear, slowly relaxed. All your muscles loosened until you were a melted puddle of pleasant tingles. A dazed smile teased the corners of your lips and you nuzzled the man’s shoulder, breathing in the scent of his skin. He smelled like something wild, like the night and the moon. 
The purring tapered off, and without the sensation of the vibrations reverberating through your body, you tesned again. It came back to you that you were pinned beneath the blankets of your bed by a strange, naked man, who’d somehow broken into your apartment in the middle of the night. 
You began to thrash beneath the cage of the man’s broad chest, kicking your legs and flailing your arms to try to dislodge him, but he was a solid weight on top of you. 
In fact, if he wasn’t a strange, naked man, he’d make a pretty good weighted blanket. But as it was, fear was making your pulse pump hard in your veins—that is, until you heard his voice. His first words.
“It’s me,” he rumbled, his words barely discernible above the purring that started again from his chest. His voice was deep, rough, gravelly, like he hadn’t used it in a long while. “It’s Bucky—your Bucky.”
The breath stalled in your lungs and all thoughts of screaming died a quick death. You blinked past the man’s shoulder, staring up at your ceiling, trying to process what he’d said. How could this man be your cat, Bucky?
The orange glow of the streetlight was filtering through your curtains, joining the bluish hue of the moon, casting your room in dark, multihued shadows. It was late October—it was Halloween, if you remembered correctly, since it must’ve been after midnight.
It was the time for spooky things, and you were probably more inclined than most to believe in the fantastical, but you couldn’t seem to wrap your still sleepy mind around the fact that there was a strange, naked man in your bed and he claimed to be your pet cat. That just…it couldn’t be real. Right?
The man kept purring, and the longer you thought about it, the more peculiar it seemed. Men didn’t purr like that. Like a cat trying to soothe a frightened kitten. But that’s exactly what he was doing—and you were the frightened kitten in this scenario, which didn’t bother you as much as you would’ve thought. Because the purring did feel and sound very nice…
But still, he couldn’t be Bucky. That would mean he was somehow able to shift between human and cat form, and you didn’t care how many romantasy novels you read about shifters falling in love with humans, they couldn’t be real. They just couldn’t. 
Even as you thought that, and told yourself you knew what was real and what was fantasy, the fact that the man was also your pet cat was the only thing that made sense. It was the only explanation for why his purr sounded so much like Bucky’s, why his eyes had looked so much like Bucky’s, why his warm, wild scent reminded you so much of Bucky. 
“B-Bucky?” you whispered into his shoulder, your voice shaky and uncertain. You were so quiet, you didn’t know if he’d heard you. But his purring softened, and he pushed up enough that he could hover above you. You saw his face properly for the first time.
And…oh. What a handsome face it was.
Two piercing blue eyes framed a straight nose, leading down to a pair of perfectly soft-looking lips. His jaw was broad and sharp, softened slightly by the thick, dark scruff that was almost long enough to be a beard. In the moonlight, you could see patches of silver streaking through the dark brown of his scruff, and you ached to rake your nails through it.
Instead, you flicked your gaze to his brown hair, which was longish and falling into his face in the most charming way. But even as you wondered how it’d feel to run your fingers through the man’s soft hair, your eyes wandered back down to his eyes, which were staring at you warily. He was watching you closely for your reaction, but you were too stunned by his handsomeness to do more than stare back. 
“Are you going to scream again?” he asked gruffly, his voice still raspy from sleep or disuse, you couldn’t be sure. 
You took a moment to think about his question, really think about it. If you were honest with yourself, you were starting to believe the man was, somehow, who he said—Bucky, your pet cat transformed into a human. It was hard not to consider it, especially when you were staring up into his eyes that looked so much like Bucky’s that it gave you an eerie sense of déjà vu.
But the rational side of your mind reminded you that he could still be a lunatic pervert with eyes that just happened to look like Bucky’s. He could’ve been stalking you long enough to know your pet’s name, and could be trying to lure you into a false sense of security to…murder you or something. 
 So you narrowed your gaze on him.
“Maybe,” you finally answered. “Depends on whether you can prove you are who you say you are.”
He nodded like he wasn’t surprised by your answer and looked away, his eyes trailing over your room. There was something about the way he looked at your pile of not-clean-but-not dirty clothes and the mess on top of your dresser that made you think he knew the landscape of your bedroom almost as well as you did. 
Which was, decidedly, not like a stalker pervert who’d never been in your room before. 
“First,” he started in that deliciously gruff voice of his. “Can you tell me if it’s Halloween?”
You huffed a sound that was halfway between surprise and frustration. You didn’t understand why he was delaying. You wanted him to either make you believe he was Bucky, or convince you he wasn’t so that you could get on with screaming and calling the cops. Feeling him laying on top of you was beginning to feel far too comforting for your liking.
“Yeah,” you answered, after a moment of thinking about the days. “I mean yes, it definitely is.”
The man looked a little crestfallen at your answer, his lips pulling down into a frown. You were so preoccupied with the way his soft mouth looked perfectly kissable amidst all the rough scruff on his jaw that you almost missed his muttered words. 
“I must’ve lost track of the days,” he said to himself, shaking his head with disappointment etched all across his handsome face. 
The urge to comfort him, to wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him close so you could bury your face in his chest and inhale his comforting, wild scent was strong, and it made you restless. You were frustrated with yourself, with the way you were waiting quietly for this strange man to get his bearings when you should’ve been demanding answers.
Unable to stop your frustration from boiling over, you wriggled beneath him impatiently, trying to buck him off. But you didn’t move his bulky form even a bit. And there was absolutely no part of you that found that attractive, that liked that he could pin you down and hold you beneath him with his sheer weight and strength. 
The purring emanating from the man’s chest picked up again, his body pressing you deeper into your soft mattress. He shifted a little, and if you weren’t mistaken, you felt something twitch against your belly, something that had you glaring up into his stupid handsome face.
“Tell me who you are and what you’re doing in my bed right now,” you hissed through snapping teeth, hoping you came across fiercer than you felt—which was like a spitting kitten for all the strength you had in comparison to the larger man. 
A slow, tempting smile spread across the man’s face, his purring stuttering like he was holding in a laugh. Despite yourself, you had to work to hold onto your anger, which wanted to abandon you in light of the stranger’s charmingly appealing grin.
“You’re adorable when you try to be threatening,” he cooed, still grinning at you. He was so close that his scent enveloped you, and his purr still vibrated softly through your body. It was all you could do not to relax and give in to the strange man’s charms. 
Then, to your great surprise, he ducked down and nuzzled your cheek with his own, his scratchy scruff roughing over your soft skin in an affectionate gesture.
It was so achingly familiar, it made your heart squeeze in your chest. 
It was so much like how Bucky would rub his sweet little face against your cheek and the underside of your chin when he was cuddling with you. You’d seen plenty of TikTok videos about how clingy male cats could be with their female owners, and that was exactly how Bucky acted. He was so affectionate, always rubbing himself against you and staring up at you like you were his whole world…
A surprised puff of air escaped your lungs, along with a shocked little whimper. The man must’ve heard you, because his purring picked up and he shifted so his mouth was right next to your ear.
“I’m sorry I scared you,” he murmured, his voice gentle and genuinely remorseful. “Will you let me explain—please?”
It was the man’s final word, the strain in his hoarse voice, as if he was begging for his life, that did you in. With a disgruntled sigh, more at yourself than anything else, you said, “Fine.”
The man lifted his head and stared down at you, his piercing blue eyes raking over your face—and a soft affection that had your heart thumping harder in your chest. There was uncertainty in the gentle twist of his mouth and, as you watched, he took a deep, steadying breath, as if preparing himself to jump off a cliff. 
“I’m a shifter,” he said bluntly, his gaze watching you sharply. When you only blinked up at him, he went on. “I can turn into a gray cat—a Russian Blue, to be specific. Sound familiar?”
A smirk flirted around the edges of the man’s mouth as he raised his brows, as if prompting you to see the connection between what he said he was and your pet cat. However, you refused to be charmed by him, so you pressed your lips into a firm line and narrowed your eyes at him, telling him wordlessly that you still didn’t quite believe him. 
He huffed an amused laugh and went on.
“Halloween is the one day of the year I can’t stay in my cat form,” he explained patiently, his expression open and honest. “It’s something about the thinness of the veil on this day, it forces all shifters to walk the earth in our human forms.”
There was a beat of silence as you processed the man’s explanation. He really did look so earnest, and you couldn’t ignore all the similarities you’d already noticed between him and Bucky. The purring, the nuzzling, the eyes…
“So you’re my cat?” you asked dubiously, your eyes still narrowed up at him, mouth pursed in a skeptical frown. “Bucky?” 
The man nodded, hope transforming his face. But then he paused, tilting his head to the side as if considering your words more closely. 
“Well, yes—but my name isn’t Bucky.”
Your frown deepened. Embarrassed heat bloomed in your cheeks at the realization that you’d not only named the handsome Russian Blue you’d rescued from a bucket so unoriginally, but that he’d been a shifter who had a name of his own. 
“What is it?” you squeaked, trying to tamp down on your humiliation. 
“James Barnes,” he said, as he studied your expression. Something about the way a playful grin was spreading across his face told you that you weren’t successful in hiding your embarrassment from him. “But I like Bucky, too,” he said, ducking his head down to murmur in your ear, “Because it’s what you call me.”
You tried to ignore the way your heart flipped in your chest at the implication of his words, but a pleased warmth was flooding through your body and making you melt beneath his comfortably heavy weight. It took all your self-control not to purr right back at the strange man—James, or Bucky, or whoever he was. You still weren’t sure if you believed him.
“Kind of convenient that you can’t shift right now and prove you’re telling the truth,” you pointed out, trying to get the conversation back on track and get the undeniable proof you needed. You were surprised to find you wanted James to prove he was really Bucky. It would be…nice. 
At your words, the man sighed, leaning up so you could see his face while he carded his fingers through his hair in a sign of frustration. You couldn’t help the little stab of jealousy as you watched, wishing it was your fingers sifting through his soft strands. Maybe pulling a little bit, tugging him down to kiss you…
You shoved the thought away and focused on him as he began to speak.
“I know,” he huffed, a displeased frown on his face as he stared off to the side. Shaking his head to clear away whatever he was thinking about, his gaze refocused on you. “I had a plan.”
“A plan?” you echoed, unsure what he meant by that. 
“I was going to slip out before you woke up,” he explained, rubbing the back of his neck as a sheepish smile curved his mouth. “And then bump into you when you go get your coffee—like you do every morning.”
“Ok, stalker,” you mumbled to yourself, a little disturbed by how well the man knew your routine. A ripple of fear passed through you, but it dissipated when James huffed a self-effacing laugh. 
“I know how that sounds,” he said, looking down at you, his blue eyes glittering with affection and his mouth curving into a fond smile. “But it was hard not to notice you going out every morning and coming back smelling like coffee and sunshine and happiness,” he said. “That’s why I wanted to meet you—really meet you—there, somewhere that made you smile.”
James shifted his arm, his hand cupping your face gently and his thumb brushing over the corner of your mouth, his eyes staring at that spot, like he was picturing your smile. It was hard not to melt at the poetry of his words and the soft way he was looking at you, but you soldiered on with your interrogation of the strange man.
“What were you going to do after we met?” you asked, your voice more breathless than you would’ve liked, but you couldn’t help it. Not when James was looking at you so intensely. 
“I was going to buy your coffee for you, strike up a conversation,” he said, his voice faraway, almost dreamy as he kept staring at your mouth. “Do things the right way.”
At that, your brow furrowed and your lips tipped down in a confused frown. That seemed to snap the man out of whatever daze he’d been in, his eyes flicking back to yours. 
“Do what the right way?” you asked. 
“You know…” he said, regarding you like he was trying to figure out if you were being deliberately obtuse or if you really didn’t understand. He must’ve decided you really didn’t know what he was talking about, because he went on. “Dating you, wooing you, telling you about what I am after you know me—the real me.” 
Your heart did that annoying little flip again, but you couldn’t help it, not when a man as handsome as James was talking about wooing you. Still, you weren’t going to let him off the hook just because the man—who may or may not be your pet cat (but probably was)—had a romantic side to him.
“Yeah that sounds like a better plan than letting me wake up to you sleeping naked in my bed,” you said dryly, raising an eyebrow at him. 
“I know,” he huffed, pulling his hand away from your cheek and scrubbing it down his face as he groaned in frustration. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this, you were supposed to trust me. I had a plan.” His final words were bitten out through clenched teeth, and you could practically feel his annoyance radiating off him. 
“Mmm,” you hummed in acknowledgement, wanting to comfort him but not allowing yourself to give in to the urge. Not when you still had so many questions. “So if today is the only day when you can’t change shift at will, why have you been living as my pet for almost a year?”
For the first time in your conversation, Bucky’s face shuttered and his expression turned guarded. His eyes darted away from you and he rubbed a hand over his scruff, the soft, scratchy sound filling your quiet room. 
For a moment, you desperately wanted to rub your cheek against his scruff, to nuzzle him the way he had you, but you squashed the idea as soon as it flitted through your mind as you waited for him to answer your question.
Bucky’s gaze drifted back to yours, and the walls he’d put up moments before seemed to come down just as fast as he stared into your eyes.
“A pretty girl took me in and fed me and kept me warm,” he rumbled, his voice low and deliciously gruff as he raked his eyes over your face. “She let me sleep in her bed, and curl up with her. She let me comfort her when she was sad, and smiled just for me when she was happy.”
The way Bucky was looking at you, his gaze filled with so much naked affection, stole the breath from your lungs. You didn’t know when you started calling him Bucky in your mind, but you realized you truly believed that he was who he said he was. He was your cat, transformed into a human.
“What was I supposed to do,” he went on, a small smile curving the corner of his mouth. “Shift right in front of her, and scare the fuck out of her, then ask her out?” He laughed quietly, shaking his head ruefully in answer to his own question. “I wanted to do things right.” Cupping your face gently, he stared deep into your eyes. “Besides, I liked being yours.”
Happiness burst like fireworks in your heart. “You…” you trailed off, needing to swallow past your dry throat and your thumping heart before continuing. “You liked being mine?” you asked, needing to hear him say it again for some reason you couldn’t understand. It seemed too unreal that he could like being your cat more than he liked being able to live his life as a free man. Or shifter.
Bucky’s eyes slowly swept over your face, taking in your parted lips and your hopeful gaze. He seemed to be able to read you like a book, and you found you didn’t mind that so much, not when Bucky’s mouth was gently curving into a smile that was deeply pleased with what he saw in your expression. 
“I liked being yours,” he repeated for you, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers through your body, settling deep in your core and making a warmth bloom that had everything to do with the man in your bed. “And I wanted you to want to be mine—to like being mine, too.”
He watched you for a long, silent moment. You couldn’t be sure, but you thought he was holding his breath, waiting for your reaction, though you were still too stunned to give him one. When he realized this, he spoke again.
“Please tell me I haven’t ruined things.”
The hushed desperation in his tone was your undoing.
Your arms pushed against the cocoon of blankets you were trapped in, and Bucky lifted himself up higher to let you pull free. He was watching you warily, like he was half expecting you to use your arms to push him off you. 
Instead, you lifted your hands and cupped his face, tugging on him gently until he lowered himself back down on top of you. His weight felt more familiar and comforting than it had any right, and you had to force your request from your lips. 
“Tell me something only you’d know, Bucky,” you whispered, your own thinly veiled desperation in your words. You already knew in your heart that he was Bucky—your Bucky—but you needed something more definitive to quell the fear and doubts in your mind. “Please.” 
He stared at you for a moment, something like hope and excitement swirling in his piercing blue gaze. When he spoke, his voice was gruff, full of emotion. 
“When you think I’m sleeping, you whisper secrets in my ear,” Bucky said, his eyes briefly trailing down to your mouth like he couldn’t help himself. But his gaze flicked back quickly to yours before continuing on. “You told me how annoying your coworker is—Agatha, right? And how you wish your boss appreciated you more.”
You were silent and still beneath Bucky, shock rolling through you and leaving you stunned. Bucky was right, you did have a habit of talking to your cat, whispering in his ear when he was curled up in your arms or on top of your chest, telling him all the things you didn’t say to anyone else. 
It was slowly dawning on you that the man really, truly was Bucky. But he seemed to take your silence as uncertainty, and so he went on. 
“You told me how you get sad and lonely sometimes,” Bucky rumbled, his arms shifting so he could cup your face in his big hands, his thumbs brushing gently across your cheeks. “You told me how you wished someone would hold you the way you held me.” 
Slowly, he lowered himself down on top of you, as if still waiting for you to push him away. Instead, your arms wound around his bare back, your fingers pressing into his skin and clinging to him while he nuzzled his scruffy cheek against yours. You returned the gesture, nuzzling him back.
“You told me how much you want to fall in love,” he murmured in your ear, his breath warm against your skin, making you shiver. “And how afraid you are of getting your heart broken.” 
Lifting himself up to look at you, you could see the pain and desire churning in his eyes, and you could hear it in the way his voice cracked on his last word. It all seemed to finally loosen your tongue.
“Bucky,” you whispered in a thick voice, tears threatening to fall with the sheer amount of emotion flowing through you. There was shock, of course, but also so much wonder and happiness. “It really is you,” you said, marveling up at the man above you, lifting your hands to trace the lines of his handsome face.
His eyes closed, like he was savoring your touch, and a purr kicked to life in his chest while a small smile curved the edges of his mouth. It was a mouth you were suddenly aching to kiss. And you couldn’t, for the life of you, come up with a reason why you shouldn’t. 
Just as tentative as he’d been, you leaned into Bucky, your hands tilting his face down to yours while you raked your nails lightly through the scruffy hair on his cheeks and jaw. You brushed your lips against his, so softly it could barely be considered a kiss.
You felt the big man above you stiffen with surprise, his eyes flying open to stare into yours with a question clear in his blue depths.
In answer, you leaned in again, pressing your mouth infinitesimally more firmly against his, and flicked your tongue out to swipe at his plump lower lip. 
He tasted like the night, dark and alluring, and you could already tell that you would quickly grow addicted to it, licking along the seam of his lips, searching for more.
Bucky groaned, the sound deep and masculine, sending delicious shivers down your spine as he dug his arms beneath your body and held you crushed to him. He captured your mouth before you could retreat again, kissing you until you were breathless. He kissed you like he’d been starving for you and since he’s gotten a taste, he’d be damned if he let you go.
It was intoxicating to feel the way he wanted you as much as you wanted him, and you gave yourself into it, kissing Bucky back as hard as he was kissing you. Your fingers sank into Bucky’s soft brown hair, clinging to him with the same desperate devotion with which he held you. 
Of their own accord, your legs spread beneath your blankets, allowing Bucky’s hips to settle into the cradle of your thighs. Even through the layers between your bodies, you could feel the hot, hard length of his arousal pressing into the juncture of your legs so tantalizingly, you moaned into his mouth. 
“Fuck,” Bucky growled, breaking free from your lips to press kisses along your jaw. His breathing was harsh in your ear, like he couldn’t catch his breath. “D’you know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you, koshechka?” He sucked on a spot just beneath your ear, dragging another mewling moan from your lips before answering his own question. “Since the day you brought me home. I’ve wanted to kiss you since that first day.”
“Bucky,” you chastised on an uncontrollable giggle as he nuzzled his scruffy jaw into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply like he was breathing in the scent of your skin. He groaned, making you shiver with pleasure. Still, the words burst out of you, “That’s creepy!” Your tone was meant to be admonishing, but your voice was too breathless to have much heat. 
“The smell of you and the taste of your skin are burned into my mind,” Bucky murmured before dragging the flat of his tongue up the curve of your neck, wringing a low, throaty moan from your lips. “But I wanted to know if your mouth would be sweeter.” He captured your lips for another kiss, his mouth moving against yours in a way that made your head spin.
“Is it?” you asked when he pulled away, giving you a brief reprieve from his drugging kisses. Bucky’s eyes looked as hazy as you felt, and he seemed to not understand your questions. “Sweeter, I mean.”
A slow, seductive smile spread across Bucky’s face, and even cast in the shadows of your room, you could see plainly how handsome he was—so much so, your breath caught in your lungs.
“Oh koshechka, your mouth is the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” he murmured before diving down for another kiss.
Between your thighs, you could feel Bucky’s cock throbbing and twitching—and it was so hot, you could feel the heat of him through your blankets. 
A slight sheen of sweat was gathering in the creases of your thighs and behind your knees, your own center pulsing with a desperate ache to be closer to Bucky, to be pressed against his warm, bare skin. Your legs kicked restlessly at your blankets, trying to push them out of the way without letting go of your hold on Bucky, whose body was pinning yours to the bed.
Bucky chuckled against your mouth and lifted up enough to help you push the blankets off your body—laughing harder at your disgruntled whine—before settling back down on top of you. Your legs spread to make room for his narrow hips between your thighs, his hard cock pressing against the thin fabric of your panties. 
Without the blankets in the way, you could feel something strange about Bucky’s cock. There were…bumps on it? A pattern of bumps circling the shaft, which grew thicker toward the head. 
Your brows lowered in a frown of confusion and you tilted your hips, rubbing your clothed cunt against the length of him, groaning in pleasure when the bumps dragged deliciously against your clit. 
But you were distracted from further exploration by Bucky’s voice.
“Do you want to know what I looked forward to most about dating you, koshechka?” Bucky asked against your lips, nipping and licking the breath from your lungs while he picked up your rhythm, grinding his cock against your slit through the meager fabric of your panties. 
“Wh-what?” you asked in a trembling voice, your hips rocking up against Bucky, your ankles looping around the backs of his thighs for more leverage to grind against his cock. 
“I couldn’t wait for the first time you’d let me stay over,” he murmured, dragging his mouth along your jaw and playfully biting the lobe of your ear, drawing a gasp from your lips. “I’d give you my shirt to sleep in, instead of one of these little nightshirts you like,” he said, his fingers curling into the fabric and rucking it up around your hips, spreading your legs wider and giving him more access for his rolling hips.
“What’s wrong with my nightshirts?” you asked on a needy whimper. You pouted as you tipped your head down to look at him while he was busy placing wet, open-mouthed kisses to your collarbones through the thin cotton of your shirt. 
Bucky flicked his eyes up to yours and growled, “They don’t smell enough like me.” His hands slipped beneath your nightshirt, his warm palms skimming over your bare skin and making you shiver. He wrapped his fingers around your ribs, thumbs brushing over the lower curves of your breasts, just teasing your nipples while he stared up at you, watching the way you gasped for him.
It took you a long moment to process his words, and when you did, all you could manage was to whine his name, “Bucky.” The thought of smelling like him did something to your heart and your insides, melting them to the point that you squirmed from the heat flooding your body. 
As you watched, a slow smirk spread across his face. He lowered his mouth to one of your tits and flicked his tongue across your pebbled nipple through your shirt. 
“You should always smell like me,” he muttered into the soft curve of your breast, almost like he was talking to himself, before he latched onto your nipple and sucked the tight peak into his mouth.
Warm, wet heat surged through your body as Bucky suckled on you in long, deep pulls that tugged on a line connected directly to your clit, which was throbbing with need against his still gently rutting cock. His precum was slowly leaking onto your lower belly, making a mess of your panties, but they were ruined by your own arousal anyway.
Between Bucky’s cock and his mouth, your body was a mess of pleasure and wetness, your panties growing increasingly drenched the more he rocked against you, bullying your clit and torturing your nipples. His head shifted, moving to the other, before giving your other breast just as much attention and making your mind spin.
It took you long, long minutes before you could form a coherent thought, your mind catching on something Bucky had said. What tumbled from your lips was the inelegant question: “Do you even own a shirt?”
Bucky paused, like your question surprised him, and a second later he was laughing into the valley between your tits, his forehead pressed to the top of your sternum as his warm breath ghosted against you through your shirt.
“Koshechka,” he rumbled, still laughing as he raised his head to meet your curious gaze. His eyes were sparkling with humor and affection in the moonlight. “I have a whole apartment across town.”
“Then why did you stay with me?” you asked. Your brow furrowed in confusion at that revelation, even as curiosity began winding through your mind. What did his apartment look like? Was it cozy or sparse? Did he have plants or a massive flatscreen? Did he have a pet cat of his own? 
And who was taking care of his apartment while he’d been living with you? Or did he sneak out while you were at work to go hang out at his home?
Bucky’s voice reeled you back into the moment. 
“I told you, koshechka,” Bucky murmured, leaning up to press a kiss to your swollen lips. 
It was soft and sweet and you didn’t want him to stop, but you were too curious about his answer to protest when he pulled away to look at you again. 
“A pretty girl took me in and kept me,” he rumbled, his voice low and delicious, his mouth curved into a mischievous smile that you desperately wanted to lick. “She let me cuddle her and nuzzle her cheeks and sleep in her bed, why would I leave?” He chuckled, shaking his head as he stared at you. “Being your pet was better than being my own man.”
Bucky’s words sank deep into your heart, tears of something like joy springing to your eyes, and you cupped his face to pull him in for another kiss. With no words, only your mouth, you told him how much his statement meant to you. 
He liked being with you more than he liked being free. How could you ever be expected to let go of a man who said such things to you? You didn’t know if you could, even considering the strangeness of your meeting.
Your kiss grew heated and your thoughts melted away, your body writhing beneath Bucky’s as you tried to press closer, despite there being little space left between your bodies already. A whine worked its way up your throat and Bucky swallowed the sound, his mouth curving against yours in a smile before he eased back. 
“May I?” he asked, nodding down to your nightshirt, which he was slowly pushing up further. It took you a moment to realize he was asking your permission to take it off, but when you did, you nodded. However, he didn’t move, only gave you a more intense look. “Use your words, koshechka.” 
“Yes, please…” you said, trailing off as a thought occurred to you. “Do you still want me to call you Bucky?” you asked, tilting your head on your pillow and staring up at the man who’d told you his name was James. 
You watched Bucky’s smile spread across his face and he ducked down, kissing you quickly, like he couldn’t help himself. He trailed kisses along your jaw and down the column of your throat while he pushed your nightshirt up slowly, teasingly.
“You can call me anything you want, koshechka.”
You considered his words distractedly while he tugged your shirt off, both of you pausing while Bucky admired your body. You had the urge to cover yourself, but held back, more than a little stunned by the sheer amount of heat and desire in Bucky’s gaze. A pleasant warmth prickled beneath your skin everywhere he looked, and it made you want to reach for him, so you did, tugging on his shoulders to pull him closer.
Obligingly, Bucky settled back down on top of you, his mouth working against your collarbones before trailing down to your tits. His big hands worked your soft flesh, kneading you firmly enough to make you gasp and writhe, while his mouth moved between kissing, licking and nipping your skin, teasing your nipples with purposeful flicks of his tongue. 
Despite how perfectly Bucky was working your body, your mind was still caught on what he’d said about calling him anything you wanted.
“What about daddy-cat?” you asked, your voice breathless as you held in a moan. It was the most ridiculous nickname you could think of, and you were curious to see how Bucky responded. He only huffed out a muffled laugh, suckling on your nipple and dragging the moan from your lungs that you’d been holding in.
“If you want,” he murmured against your skin, shrugging a shoulder and not even looking up from your tits.
“Okay,” you said, dragging out the word, your thoughts scattering when he moved to your other breast and sucked deeply on your nipple. Wetness flooded between your thighs and you whimpered pathetically. 
Suddenly, a word came to mind, one you’d seen in some fantasy novels you’d read, and it appealed to you in a way you couldn’t put into words—especially not with Bucky’s mouth on your tits. But it felt right, and it tumbled easily from your lips.
“Alpha.” The word was half gasp, half plea, and filled entirely with your need for Bucky.
Bucky went still, his body going rigid even as his cock twitched between your thighs. Then, his purr kicked to life in his chest, louder than you’d heard it yet.
The vibrations that had teased you through your blankets were so much more intense when your skin was pressed against Bucky’s, and you let out a soft, gentle moan. Your body relaxed instantly, melting beneath Bucky’s broad form while he dug his arms beneath your back and held you close to his chest. 
“I like that,” he rumbled through his purring, kissing up your chest and neck until his mouth found yours. “Call me that, koshechka.”
“Yes, alpha,” you said on a sweet sigh that Bucky swallowed down with a filthy groan, sounding like he was tasting something delicious.
“Fuck, koshechka, you’re making my cock so fucking hard,” he growled against your mouth, his words sliding over your tongue and making you shiver with need.
Bucky’s fingers circled your wrist and he dragged your hand down between your bodies slowly—slowly enough, and his grip loose enough, you knew you could’ve pulled away if you’d wanted. 
But you didn’t want to. You knew what he was doing, and you wanted to feel him, wanted to feel what you did to him. 
And you wanted to explore the strange shape of his cock.
“Feel what you do to me, koshechka,” Bucky growled, placing your palm on his cock and you sucked in a sharp breath of surprise at the feeling of it.
Your fingers circled the base of his cock and ran up the length, feeling the way it swelled and grew bigger as you neared the head. It was so thick, you wondered how he would fit inside you, but your body responded to that thought by growing wetter, and you knew you were eager to try to make it fit.
You stroked Bucky’s cock up and down the shaft, feeling the pattern of bumps circling it. They were more complex than you’d thought, more like barbs that caught slightly on your fingers and palm, though not in a painful way. Just in a way that made you shiver and wonder wildly what they would feel like inside you, dragging against your inner walls and stimulating you in a way you’d never felt before…
Suddenly, you were desperate to feel Bucky slide inside you.
“Alpha, please,” you begged on a whine, a need rising up in you that you couldn’t even begin to control. You shifted your grip on Bucky’s cock, pressing him into your panty-covered slit and grinding against him, writhing your hips beneath his large body. “Please fuck me—I need you inside me, alpha, please.”
“Oh fuck,” Bucky grunted, his hips jerking and fucking against your slick panties, his precum leaking from the tip of his cock and making even more of a mess of you. “Are you sure? I really did want to take you out on a date, do things the normal way…”
His frantic words trailed off on a moan when you pressed his cock deeper between your folds, until he was sliding between your puffy pussy lips. 
Even through your panties, you could feel the barbs on his cock rubbing against your clit and you let out a needy moan. The fingers of your other hand threaded through his soft brown hair and you pulled him close, until your lips brushed against the shell of his ear.
“You’re a cat shifter who’s been watching me sleep while pretending to be nothing more than my pet for almost a year,” you whispered, and even though you knew you’d have to deal with Bucky’s lie at some point, you weren’t ready yet. 
You wanted him, you wanted his cock buried inside you, so you nipped playfully at his earlobe to lighten the mood. Of course, you also thoroughly enjoyed the way his hips rutted between your thighs reflexively, making you giggle softly before you continued on. 
“I think we bypassed normal right around the time I brought you home and you decided to stay,” you murmured, a hint of humor in your tone. “We can play out your Halloween coffee shop meet-cute later, but for now, I need you to fuck me, alpha.”
A rumbling growl ricocheted in Bucky’s chest, teasing your skin where you were pressed together. Your nipples hardened further into tight, achy peaks and your pussy gushed between your thighs, reacting to the desire in Bucky’s growl. 
“I will take you out later,” he said firmly, “But I’ll always give you what you want, and if you want to be fucked—I’ll fuck you good, koshechka.” Bucky pushed up until he was hovering above you, flashing you a charmingly rakish grin. Then his hands were shoving your panties down over your ass and thighs, moving to pull them off you entirely. 
When that was done, Bucky sat back on his haunches and stared at you, laid bare beneath him, your skin swathed in the silvery light of the moonlight and the warm glow of the streetlight outside your window. His piercing blue eyes raked over every inch of bared skin, appreciating you for long, long moments. 
“Fuck, you’re so pretty, koshechka,” Bucky murmured distractedly, his hands sliding up your legs and pushing your thighs wide. He stared down at your sopping wet pussy with reverence etched in every line of his face. “Even your pussy is pretty—I just need a little taste.” His last comment was mumbled, like he was talking to himself, just before he ducked down between your legs.
The flat of Bucky’s tongue licked up the full length of your slit, digging into the top until he found your clit. His hot mouth against your cunt had you whining and whimpering, your fingers digging into his soft hair and holding on for dear life. He buried his face into your folds, his tongue licking deep into you and making you moan loudly while he ate you out.
“Fucking hell, koshechka, even your cunt is sweet,” Bucky groaned when he finally came up for air, pressing filthy wet kisses to your quivering thighs. You were close to the edge of your release already, but as much as you wanted to come, you wanted something else more.
“Alpha,” you begged in a whining tone, squirming against Bucky’s big hands that were pinning you to the bed. “Feel so empty.”
Bucky lapped teasingly at your clit, and you could feel his smile against your heated skin. He worked your body until you were writhing harder, squirming harder against his hands to rock into his mouth and grind down on his tongue. Still, it wasn’t enough and you whined louder in a wordless plea.
“C’mon, koshechka, come on my tongue and then I’ll fill you up with my cock,” Bucky murmured into your swollen folds, his command half-muffled against your slick pussy. 
Your head thrashed side to side on your pillow and you whimpered, “Alpha,” as you tried to hold on, tried to last until his cock was inside you. But Bucky was determined to feel you come on his mouth.
When he slipped two of his fingers into your drenched hole and stroked a spot deep inside you, the electric shot of pleasure was too much. Your fingers curled so tightly in Bucky’s hair, a distant part of your mind worried you’d yank some of it from his head. 
But you couldn’t think about that—not when he was pushing you over the edge and pleasure was crashing through you in an earth-shattering orgasm.
A silent scream caught in your throat as your whole body went rigid, ecstasy pulsing through your limbs while Bucky kept fucking you with his fingers and sucking on your clit. It was nearly overwhelming, how good his mouth and fingers felt, and you let yourself sink into the waves of pleasure as they washed over you.
You were still twitching with the remnants of your release when Bucky crawled up your body, his mouth kissing your belly and your ribs, pausing to flick his tongue over each of your nipples, then the hollow of your throat. Finally, his lips found yours and he kissed you passionately, making you moan as you tasted yourself on his tongue. 
“Can you taste how sweet you are, koshechka?” he murmured against your mouth while he rubbed the length of your cock through your slick folds. The barbs were catching on your clit, making your hips twitch as you dragged in desperate gasps of air. “Sweet as a Halloween treat.” 
Bucky pressed another kiss to your lips even as you huffed a little laugh.
“I see how it is,” you muttered, a little bitterness seeping into your tone. “You play a trick on me and you still get a treat?” You didn’t quite know where the words came from, but it seemed you weren’t doing so well at putting off dealing with the fact that Bucky had hidden his true self from you for almost a year. 
It was annoying that the betrayal you felt was raising its ugly head before you’d even gotten to feel his cock inside you, but you supposed it had something to do with the deeply satisfied feeling of coming on his tongue. Still, you were embarrassed enough by your blurted, bitter question that you turned your head to the side, trying to hide in your pillow.
Bucky hovered above you, and you could see the serious expression on his face out of the corner of your eye. He gently grabbed your chin and turned you back to look at him, holding your gaze with his own.
“I’m sorry for lying to you for so long, koshechka,” he said, his tone entirely genuine. You could even see remorse simmering in his blue eyes. “I was selfish, and afraid you wouldn’t like me as much like this.” He gestured at himself, indicating his human form. 
That made you huff a laugh and roll your eyes a little before catching Bucky’s gaze again. “How could I not like you like this?” you asked, cupping his handsome face in your hands. Your nails raked lightly through his scruff, and he closed his eyes as a soft purr started in his chest. “But I’m going to need time to forgive you for lying.”
Bucky’s mouth pulled into a bittersweet smile and he nodded his head, his eyes opening again.
“I understand,” he murmured, turning his head to press a kiss into your palm. “I’ll earn your trust back, I promise,” he vowed, staring deep into your eyes, as if willing you to believe him. 
Your lips curved in a small smile and you tipped your head up, pulling him in for a brief kiss. It was little more than a brushing of lips, but you felt the determination in the rigid line of Bucky’s shoulders. You ghosted your lips along Bucky’s jaw, sucking playfully at his skin as you tried to lighten the mood. 
“I still need you to fuck me, alpha,” you purred in Bucky’s ear, your thighs spreading wider beneath his hips, his cock pressing deeper between your still soaking folds.
“Fuck, fuck,” he groaned, his hips moving on instinct until the tip of his cock was pressed to your tight hole. But he stopped himself from pushing inside, instead pausing to ask you, “Are you sure, koshechka?” 
Your heart thumped harder in your chest at Bucky’s question, but you knew what you wanted. “Yes, alpha—please.” 
Your final word was a broken plea, and it seemed Bucky didn’t need to be begged again. He pushed forward, sinking slowly into your tight, warm pussy with a tortured groan. The head pushed inside you, then the thick bulge of his cock, and every additional inch felt like a revelation. 
“You feel so fucking good, koshechka,” he rumbled, his low, gravelly voice sinking into your skin and making you shiver. “Feel so fucking perfect.”
You didn’t have the breath to respond, but you shared his sentiment. The thick bulge of his cock stretched your tight hole to its limit, and you sighed in pleasure when he was finally buried deep. It was a little odd, the feeling of his inhuman cock inside you, but it felt perfect, too. 
For a moment, Bucky paused while he was fully impaled in your cunt. His arms curled around your body, and yours wound around his shoulders. You clung to each other, your chests rising and falling together as your hearts beat in tandem beneath your ribs. 
“Talk to me, koshechka, are you ok?” Bucky asked softly, his face pressed into the crook of your neck. He nuzzled into you, his scruffy face tickling your skin while a soft purr kicked to life in his chest.
Your body relaxed beneath Bucky’s large form and you nodded, trying to catch your breath a little before answering. 
“Yes, alpha, ‘m ok,” you mumbled in throaty voice, your fingers stroking idly through Bucky’s hair at the back of his head. His purr grew stronger, vibrating through you and your inner walls clenched around Bucky’s stiff length, pleasure pulsing through you at the wild, unusual sensation of his cock inside you. “So full.”
“Mm, your tight cunt feels good around my cock,” Bucky murmured in agreement, kissing up your neck until he could brush his lips against your sweaty temple. His scruffy jaw tickled your cheek and you squirmed lazily, a grin spreading across your face. “Feels like you were made for me—fuck, you were made for me, weren’t you koshechka?”
“Mhmm,” you hummed languidly, rocking your hips experimentally and feeling the slight drag of Bucky’s cock inside you, the barbs making your breath catch as delicious pleasure jolted through your body. Distractedly, you asked, “Do shifters mate?”
Bucky tensed above you, and your mind sharpened, focusing on his reaction and the way he was hiding his face in the pillow beside your head.
“James Bucky Barnes,” you growled in warning. He’d lied to you for almost a year, hiding his human identity from you while pretending to be nothing more than your pet, and you’d be damned if you let him keep lying to you. And you knew he was hiding something from you, his reaction to your question made that perfectly clear.
“Yes, we can scent our compatible mate,” he admitted on a gusting exhale, his voice muffled in the pillow.
You licked your lips as you processed that revelation. Unbidden, all the times that night that Bucky had told you how sweet you tasted, how deeply he’d breathed in your scent—and how good his wild scent smelled to you—came to mind. It seemed only natural that your next question was, “And, am I…?” 
“Yes,” he said quickly, cutting you off before you could even finish your question. “You’re mine. I’m yours.” 
His words were slightly less muffled by his face buried in the pillow, and you were suddenly frustrated by the fact that you couldn’t see him. You pushed against his shoulder and twisted your hips until he obliged your wordless request and rolled onto his back, taking you with him.
Your knees dug into the soft mattress on either side of Bucky’s hips and you pushed yourself up with your hands planted firmly on his hard chest. Bucky’s piercing eyes were looking up at you warily, his hands settling lightly on your hips, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch you anymore.
“How long have you known?” you asked on a whisper, watching him carefully.
“Since you found me in the bucket,” he confessed with a sheepish wince. “I scented it immediately, especially since I was in my cat form.”
Reflexively, your nails dug into Bucky’s skin as frustration surged through you. “Were you ever going to tell me?” you asked in a harsher tone. 
“I had a plan,” Bucky said, but his tone was apologetic, like he knew it wasn’t a good enough answer. 
For a long moment, you stared down at the man between your thighs. Your mate, apparently. 
Despite how much you knew you should be, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be angry that he’d held back this particular aspect of his shifter identity. Even knowing it, you didn’t feel like you truly understood what it meant to be Bucky’s mate. 
And if you were being honest with yourself, after everything he’d told you that night, you were a little tired of the revelations. 
It probably would’ve been better if things had gone according to Bucky’s plan. You’d have met him in your favorite coffee shop and slowly gotten to know him—the real him—and he’d have opened up to you when you were both ready. If things had gone that way, you would’ve been able to learn about him being a shifter and your mate at an easier pace.
Instead, you’d been thrust into all this shifter stuff, and Bucky had tried his best to not overwhelm you too much. You couldn’t fault him for that. In fact, you appreciated it. The night had been a lot, and you suddenly knew exactly what you needed from him.
Heaving a heavy sigh, you lay down on Bucky’s chest so your head rested on his shoulder. 
“Can you purr for me, alpha?” you asked in a small voice, craving the comfort of the rumbling sensation.
Bucky’s purr kicked to life an instant later, giving you exactly what you asked for. You let yourself sink into the comfort and pleasure his purring offered, allowing yourself to relax. His cock was still buried deep inside you, and even that felt good—it felt right.
“What else do you need, koshechka?” Bucky asked softly, concern in his tone. His hand stroked tentatively up and down your spine and you smiled into his chest, melting further into his chest. “Tell me, and I’ll do everything in my power to give it to you.”
“I think I want to follow the plan,” you said, realizing it was what you wanted only as you said the words. “I want to try things your way, the ‘normal’ way.” You said those final words a little wryly, but your tone was otherwise genuine. Turning your face up so you could catch Bucky’s eye, you let a little smirk flirt around the corner of your mouth. “After you fuck me.”
Bucky’s eyes heated as they dropped to your mouth, but his hands still felt uncertain on your hips. “Are you sure, koshechka?” His big hand cupped your face, his thumb stroking over your cheek and your eyes fluttered closed at the comfort of the gesture. “I’d understand if you never wanted to see me again.”
At that, your eyes flew open and you glared at Bucky. “That is the last thing I want,” you spit out fiercely, surprised at how strongly you reacted to the idea of never seeing Bucky again. You took a moment, closing your eyes to gather yourself and opened them again to fix Bucky with a firm stare. “Tonight has been a lot, but I want to come on your cock, and then I wanna take the time to get to know you, to see how things go, to do things the normal way.”
A smirk curled the corner of Bucky’s mouth. “I thought we bypassed normal a year ago,” he commented, echoing your earlier words. 
It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to lean up and kiss the smirk off Bucky’s face, so that’s exactly what you did. 
He groaned into your kiss, his hands tightening on your hips and urging you to rock against him. You broke away from the kiss, unable to bite back the filthy groan that tumbled from your lips at the sensation of his cock shifting inside you.
You could feel the gentle drag of every barb on his cock, the dulled points clinging to your inner channel and making you moan loudly. Your body moved on its own, lifting up Bucky’s cock, needing to feel more of that sensation. Once only the head remained inside your warmth, you shoved yourself down, wringing a delighted screech from your lips while Bucky groaned ferociously. 
“Fuck, koshechka,” Bucky grunted, his big hands kneading your ass while you lifted up again and slammed back down. “Use me—use me for your pleasure.” His voice was breathless, and as you stared down at him, you watched his face contort with pleasure. 
You lifted up, planting your hands on his pecs and set a slow, hard pace, lifting yourself up slowly before slamming down hard on his cock, grinding into the base before doing it all over again. 
Before long, you were both panting and sweating, and your whines grew louder as your body begged more.
Bucky seemed to know exactly when you’d reached your limit of having control, and he wrapped his hands more tightly around your waist, holding you above him while he took over, drilling into your cunt from below. 
The bulge of his length and the barbs were unlike anything you’d ever felt before, and it was only a few breathless moments before you were teetering on the edge of your second release.
“Can I come, alpha?” you gasped on a whimpering whine. Your fingernails were digging into the plush padding on his stomach, pressing hard enough to feel the firm muscle beneath, delighting when his abs twitched at the same time as his cock inside you.
A purr began in Bucky’s chest and he caught your eye, a slow smile spreading across his face.
“Does my sweet koshechka want my permission to come?” he purred, staring at you with lazy, half-lidded eyes while he pounded up into you. “Do you need your alpha’s command to come on my cock?” 
“Yes, alpha, please—please command me to come,” you whimpered, your whole body trembling with your need for release. But you found you truly needed him to say it, to tell you to come, before you could do so. You didn’t know if that was a shifter thing, a mate thing or a you and Bucky thing, but in that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
Bucky fucked you harder, thrusting up so hard that your tits were bouncing with the force. A growl tore through his chest, and you felt his pleasure in the sound, knowing instinctively that he was pleased with the sight of you bouncing on his cock. 
“Come, koshechka—come all over your alpha’s fat cock,” he snarled, just before wrapping a hand around the back of your neck and dragging you down to his chest. His mouth found the curve of your neck, where your throat met your shoulder, and he bit down, his teeth sinking deep into your skin. 
You came with a yowling scream, the slight sting of pain from Bucky’s blunt teeth mixing with the blistering pleasure of his cock until you were swept away in a torrent of ecstasy. You shattered apart on his cock, your pussy pulsing and gripping him hard, dragging him over the edge after you.
Bucky came with a groan that was half-muffled against your shoulder, his cock twitching inside you as he spilled his hot seed deep in your belly. His moan morphed into a stuttering purr as he fucked you through the aftershocks of both your releases, until you collapsed on top of him with a satisfied exhale.
One of Bucky’s hands smoothed up and down your spine comfortingly while the other was still wrapped around the back of your neck. He finally pulled away from your shoulder, his tongue lapping at the deep indents he’d left in your skin. 
Strangely, some part of you was disappointed that his teeth hadn’t broken skin. But the feeling of his tongue on the mark he’d left, his cock still throbbing in your pussy, and his hand stroking you softly were all too good to focus on that twinge of disappointment. You pushed it aside and promised yourself you’d ask Bucky about it later. 
Exhaustion was tugging at the edges of your consciousness and you could feel yourself slipping back to sleep. It didn’t help that Bucky dragged the blankets back over your cooling bodies, wrapping you up in a warmth that felt like it sank deep into your bones and curled closely around your heart. 
“Rest, koshechka,” Bucky urged, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’ll see you at your coffee shop later—I’ll be the one wearing clothes.”
You would’ve laughed, but you were already falling back to sleep.
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On the morning of Halloween, you woke with a pleasant tingling between your thighs, and an excessive amount of wetness trickling from your slit. You got up and cleaned yourself up, not too surprised that your Russian Blue didn’t make an appearance as you got ready for the day. 
Your nighttime escapades felt too real for you to even begin to try to convince yourself it was a dream, though you did find yourself missing the soft pitter-patter of your pet’s feet padding across your apartment. You paused in the middle of your living room, feeling a little bit of loneliness creep in as you listened and heard no sign of life in your home.
Shaking your head, you reminded yourself that you weren’t going to be lonely without Bucky the cat—because Bucky the man was waiting for you. 
With that thought in your head, you nearly skipped down the street to your regular coffee shop. 
It was a cute little storefront nestled in between a hair salon and a plant store. The employees had put up decorations for Halloween, including a string of paper bats and little pumpkins in the windows. Inside, there were even more fall decorations, and the scent of coffee was cut with cinnamon and nutmeg.
You scanned the tables, but didn’t see Bucky, so you got in line to order. A moment later, you felt a presence behind you and you somehow knew it was him, even before his scent washed over you and his hand settled gently against your lower back as he came to stand beside you. 
“Good morning, koshechka,” he murmured, ducking to press a kiss to your cheek. 
You gave him a quick once-over, seeing that he cleaned up nice in the light of day, wearing a soft sweater, dark jeans and a warm-looking leather jacket. His breath smelled minty like he’d brushed his teeth, and his skin felt clean and fresh, as if he’d showered. But he’d kept the scruff on his face, and you couldn’t help but be glad for it as it tickled your cheek, a smile curving your lips. 
“Good morning, Bucky,” you said, staring up at him, a little surprised at how easy it seemed to be to fall into step beside him as the line moved forward.
Still, you couldn’t seem to drag your eyes away from his face. He truly was the most handsome man you’d ever seen, and you let your eyes roam greedily over the planes of his face that were so much easier to see in the daylight. You didn’t think you’d ever get tired of looking at Bucky’s face.
“Can I buy you a coffee?” Bucky asked, dragging you from your thoughts. His hand was moving soothingly in a small circle on your lower back, and you could feel the warmth of him even through your jacket.
“Yes, please,” you said sweetly. 
When it was your turn to order, you got a hot latte, while Bucky got a chai. He helped you out of your coat and pulled out a chair for you at one of the small tables, then retrieved your latte from the counter before he settled into the seat across from you. 
The barista had drawn a ghost with the foam on top of your drink and you smiled down at it, wrapping your cold fingers around the warm cup as you considered where to start.
“So,” you began, lifting your eyes to Bucky—taking in the soft sweater that stretched across his broad shoulders, his jacket draped over the back of his chair, before catching his eye. A smirk curved your lips. “Tell me about yourself.”
A slow, answering smile curled the edges of Bucky’s mouth and he leaned forward, planting his arms on the table in a mirror of your posture. When he spoke, his voice was low, a delicious gruffness to it that tingled all the way through you, down to the tips of your toes.
“Well, I’ve had a bit of an unusual life,” he began, catching your eye and holding your gaze with his own sparkling blues. “I served in the army with my best friend, came back, didn’t really know what to do with myself—until I met a pretty girl who took me in and showed me what it’s like to be loved.”
Your heart thumped excitedly in your chest at Bucky’s final word even as your breath lodged in your throat. “Oh really?” you asked softly, swallowing thickly before you continued. “That sounds like an interesting story.” 
“Mm, I’ll say,” Bucky said, his eyes roving hungrily over your face. After a beat of silence, he seemed to have a thought, leaning in further and dropping his voice lower. “Can I tell you something?”
“Anything,” you said on an exhale, mesmerized by the affection swirling in Bucky’s eyes and the way his mouth curved at the edges when he smiled.
“I’m excited to show her what it’s like to be loved by me,” Bucky murmured. 
His words had the same effect as his purr, making you melt as you smiled across the table at him. “I’m excited for that, too,” you admitted softly. 
Bucky’s smile widened, and your eyes dropped to his mouth. You wanted to kiss him so badly in that moment, but you also wanted to stick to his plan to take things slow.
Taking a deep breath, you sat back from the table, giving yourself some space away from the intoxicatingly wild scent of Bucky and lifted your cup to your mouth. You hummed in delight at the taste of the drink, closing your eyes as you savored the rich flavor. 
A choked sound came from across the table and you opened your eyes to see heat simmering in Bucky’s eyes. 
“Are you trying to torture me, koshechka?” he asked in a low rumble. 
You snickered and hid a smirk behind your cup before taking another sip and setting it down on the table. Tossing your head, you looked up at Bucky from under your lashes. 
“It’s the least you deserve for the little Halloween trick you played on me,” you teased. You slid your tongue along your lower lip, licking up the last bit of your coffee, smirking when Bucky groaned quietly. 
“If I behave, d’you think I’ll get a little Halloween treat?” Bucky asked, waggling his brows so suggestively, you tipped your head back with a laugh. 
“We’ll see,” you said with what you hoped was an enigmatic smile. 
Leaning across the table, Bucky ran his thumb over the corner of  your mouth and when he pulled away, you saw a little bit of foam on his finger. He popped it into his mouth, making your eyes narrow on the way his tongue flicked against the pad of his thumb, your core tightening as you remembered the things that tongue had done to you the night before.
“I’ll take whatever you want to give, koshechka,” Bucky murmured, his tone thick with emotion and desire, and you knew he was talking about more than just your body. His piercing eyes pinned you with an intense stare, and you held his gaze determinedly. 
The tension eased when Bucky looked away, his hand reaching across the table, palm up, waiting patiently for you. After a brief moment of hesitation, you slid your fingers into his palm, and your hands folded together. Warmth spread through your body and curled up deep in your heart as Bucky caught your eye again, both of you smiling at each other.
For the next hour, you sat at that little table in your favorite coffee shop with Bucky, getting to know him and learning more about his life. You discovered he had a best friend named Steve Rogers who’d been watching his apartment for the last year while he’d been living with you. He was the friend Bucky had served in the army with and he told you plenty of stories from their childhood. 
At the end of your date, Bucky gave you his phone number, and texted you before you’d even gotten home to plan another outing. All day, you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face, and you couldn’t help your thoughts from wandering back to your Russian Blue shifter. 
Bucky had given you a Halloween trick and a Halloween treat, and he was giving you the space you needed to wrap your head around everything. Still, you couldn’t wait to see him again, to continue getting to know him, and to learn everything there was to know about him and what he was.
Over the months that followed Halloween, you and Bucky went on plenty of dates, taking things slow. But it wasn’t too long before you dragged him back to your apartment, needing to feel him again—all of him. Like he’d wanted, you slept in his shirt that night, and he purred happily, telling you how much it meant to him for you to smell like him. 
That night, you fell asleep curled up in Bucky’s arms the way he’d slept for so many nights when you’d thought he was only a cat. And it was the first night of many that you slept in your bed together with Bucky in his human form.
Eventually, Bucky officially moved in, and you learned what it meant to be mated to a shifter, though Bucky didn’t give you your mating bite until you’d been dating for a few years. He’d said he wanted to do things the normal way, and apparently that was normal for shifters, even though you were practically begging him to mate you by the time he obliged.
Although your relationship with Bucky began in a very strange way, you took the time together to truly get to know each other. He showed remorse for hiding from you for so long and worked to gain your trust. By the time the two of you were mated, you knew he was the one for you. 
James Bucky Barnes was the one you would’ve chosen even if you hadn’t woken up to him sleeping naked in your bed on that fateful Halloween night.
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pseudowho · 6 months ago
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"Oi mate! This one yours?"
Kento faltered, an exasperated half-smile on his lips as he took you in, one hand on his hip and the other clutching his lower face. You swayed, completely smashed and giggling to yourself, on the bouncer's seat outside the club. The crowds bustled around you, heading home, somewhere between morning and night.
The bouncer looked peeved at your constant mild mockery of him, laughing to yourself with messy hair, a wonky dress, your heels in your hand, and bubbling over with ginrumtequilasoursshots. Kento sighed to himself, his resignation sparking with affectionate humour.
"Yes. Yes, that one is...mine."
Your ears piqued to hear Kento, a genuine grin splashing over your bleary-eyed face. You threw your arms into the air, the bouncer flinching away from you.
"Kento! Uppies!"
"Don't be ridiculou-- not giving you uppies--"
Your face crumpled, all innocent disappointment, and it shot Kento through with knives. A faint blush smattered across high, tight cheekbones, his face otherwise the picture of cool impassivity.
"...fine. Uppies. Just this once."
With a gigglesnort, your head swooped as you allowed Kento to lift you effortlessly onto his back, and sighed deeply into the heat of him, his enormous hands cupping your arse and hips. You felt yourself swayed half to sleep by his steady steps, the cool smell of night air on tarmac, and the sounds of the club fading into the distance behind you.
"...Kento?"
"Hmmm?" You bit your lip at the rumble of his back against your body. You replied, saccharine.
"...love you, Kento. Thanks...thanks for picking me up."
Another rumble, dismissive. "I love you. As if I wouldn't pick you up."
"...some boyfriends wouldn't pick me up--"
"When was I ever 'some boyfriends'?"
You bit into his shoulder, squirming against his back as he tensed. You fizzled, every nerve alight with liquor and want. Kento was silent for a moment, still walking in and out of streetlight shadow, in, out, in, out...
"...besides, I'm your husband."
You gasped, your head swimming with drink and surprise. "Oh yeah! Oh wow...my husband...yeah."
Kento scoffed, used to this. He felt your hands trail over his chest as he pressed you into the back seat of the car, strapping you in. He knew better than to put you and your drunk, wandering hands into the passenger seat.
You barely blinked, snoring in the back seat, before you awoke with a jolt and a squeak, being carried into the house. Kento juggled keys, and the car blip-blipped behind him as he fumbled the door open, kicking it closed behind him.
"Hey, Kento..." you whispered, loudly, as if bestowing a great secret, "...I think...we should go to bed..."
"Ah, yes. Definitely."
"...yeah?" You flirted, not as sly and seductive as you thought. Kento's nose grazed yours, his voice lowering a decibel. He laid you back on the bed, and crawled over you, strong arms bracketing you in as he spoke.
"...first...I'll undress you, nice and slow."
You squirmed, giggling beneath his forehead kisses, and he continued.
"...then, I'll get something more...comfortable, out of your wardrobe."
You bit the back of your hand, wiggling beneath him as his twinkling eyes drank you in.
"And then...I'll get you all dressed up."
You were on fire, alight with promise, and groped shamelessly at Kento's biceps as he chuckled.
"...and I'll take off all your make-up, and put you in your ugliest pyjamas, and brush your teeth, and put you to bed. With a glass of water and some pain relief on the nightstand."
You slapped his chest in a half-genuine sob, devastated, certain you'd managed to seduce him this time.
"Nooo, Kentoooo...please please please fuck me--"
"Absolutely not."
"But why not?!"
"Behave yourself."
"Don't you want me?"
"--looking like a sloppy Tanuki? No, my darling--"
"Hate you."
A quiet rumble, a laugh as he made his promise come true, stripping you naked just to dress you again. Brushing your teeth. Cleaning your face, and moisturising it. Rolling you into bed, more wine than woman.
You managed just a few more incoherent noises of complaint...before soft snores filled your bedroom. Kento huffed, chuckling to himself as he got ready for bed.
One night, you convinced yourself as you dipped into sleep, you may manage to seduce him while drunk. Tonight was not that night. Nor the next night. Not the next night. Nor the next night--
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