#My fanfics

[ghostieeez]

So Wrong, So Right ౨ৎ˚₊

✧.* Content: Ghostface x fem!reader, 18+ minors DNI, smut, stalking, obsessive behavior, cheating, knifeplay, blood kink, praise kink, degradation kink, dry humping, teasing, thigh fucking, hair pulling, finger sucking, choking, vaginal sex, rough sex, creampie

✧.*‎ Summary: “Sooooo….” he trailed off. You laughed. “Sooo, what?” It was silent for a second, then, “You got a boyfriend?” (majorly inspired by this post!)

✧.*‎ Word Count: 5.8k | AO3 LINK | Divider Cred

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ - ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀʟʏ ɪɴꜱᴘɪʀᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴀ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ-ʟᴇᴛ-ᴍᴇ-ʙᴇ-ʜᴏʀɴʏ: ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴀ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ɢɪʀʟ ᴛᴏ "ɪᴛ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄʜᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ" ᴍᴇ ᴡʜɪʟꜱᴛ ɪ'ᴍ ꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀ ᴛʜɪɢʜꜱ. 💀

ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪᴅᴇᴀ + ᴍʏ ꜰᴀᴠ ɢʜᴏꜱᴛꜰᴀᴄᴇ qᴜᴏᴛᴇ = ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ! ɪ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴀᴅ ꜰᴜɴ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ꜱᴏ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ! ᴀꜱ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ, ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴀɴʏ ᴛʏᴘᴏꜱ

You had been home alone, lounging on the couch watching a movie, and were bored out of your mind–at least you were, until you got the phone call.

“Hello?” You answered, pressing the phone against your ear.

“Hi,” a man's voice crackled through the speaker. You didn’t recognize who it belonged to. It was deep, a little hoarse (and kind of sexy).

“Who’s this?” You asked. A few seconds passed, yet no response came. You tried again, “Hello? Anyone there? I think you might have the wrong number.”

Finally, he spoke, “No, I don’t think so.” The more you heard of his voice, the more you liked it. “What’s your name?”

“My name?” Your heart skipped a beat. Obviously you knew you shouldn’t give out your name to some random person calling you, but... you couldn’t lie, your interest was piqued. You decided to play along. “How about this, I’ll tell you my name if you tell me who you’re trying to get a hold of.”

“What’s that noise?” He asked, completely ignoring your proposal.

You were confused at first. “What noise? Oh-” then you laughed, realizing what he meant as the sound of horrified screams came from your television. “Just a scary movie I was watching.”

“You like scary movies?” He asked.

“I do!” Anyone who knew you, also knew that you absolutely loved the horror genre. “But I do have to say, this movie has been a dud so far. Pretty boring.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Not enough blood for my tastes,” you replied.

“Ah, so you like them bloody. Noted.”

There was a lull in the conversation, but you had to admit, you were kind of having fun chatting with him and you didn’t want it to stop so soon. “Well, what about you? Do you like scary movies?”

Apparently, he was a fanatic just like you.

The two of you went on and on, spewing adoration for your favorites. He kept asking you questions too, quizzing to see if you were a “true” horror fan.

“That’s supposed to be a hard one?” You’d scoff, then answer his question with ease.

It only felt like you were talking to him for a short amount of time, but a glance at the clock showed it had been over thirty minutes since he called you. You shifted your attention back to the TV for a second and saw that the credits were rolling. You grabbed the remote and turned it off. How did you not even notice that the movie ended already?

Apparently you had gotten pretty distracted, but to be fair, it was hard to focus on anything else when you were talking to him.

“So, you ever gonna tell me your name?” He asked, his voice sounding almost sultry.

What the hell, after talking to him for this long, why not? So you told him. He repeated it, and god, you loved the way it rolled off his tongue so smoothly. You imagined what it would sound like if was moaning it while he-

He said your name again, which brought your mind out of the gutter and back to reality. “Hm?”

“You got a real cute voice,” he said. “And I bet you have a pretty face to match.”

“Thanks,” your voice was shy and your cheeks felt like they were on fire now that he was downright flirting with you.

“Sooooo...” he trailed off.

You laughed. “Sooo, what?”

It was silent for a second, then, “You got a boyfriend?”

Your stomach sank after hearing his words.

“Yes,” you answered guiltily honestly. It was true; you did have a boyfriend. How was it he hadn’t crossed your mind once since you had answered the phone? Was this stranger really that enticing to you that your brain completely blanked out on the fact that you were in a committed relationship?

“He must not be a very good boyfriend, then,” he sighed.

“Why’s that?”

“Because he's an idiot for leaving a cutie like you home alone, so needy and desperate for attention,” he said. Needy and desperate? Ouch.

“I am not!” You began to defend yourself, then you registered what else he had said. “...And I never told you I was home alone.”

“Poor thing, all by yourself,” he continued, ignoring you. “If your boyfriend isn’t home, then who’s supposed to protect you from the big, scary men who might want to hurt you?”

His words had you on edge, but you tried so hard to rationalize what he was saying. He must have been pulling some kind of joke on you.

“Ha ha, real funny,” you said, rolling your eyes. Obviously, he was trying to mess with you. “Maybe this works on other girls you like to prank, but it won’t work on me. You’re gonna have to be scarier than that.”

“Scarier?” He asked, chuckling. “What could be scarier than being home alone and leaving your door unlocked this late at night?”

In a split second, you got up from the couch and ran over to your front door. You breathed a sigh of relief. “You dick! That almost scared me, but it’s locked. Nice try though.”

“Who said I was talking about the front door?”

A chill ran down your spine. Okay, you were starting to get pretty creeped out. You didn’t want him to know that, though. “The back door is locked too,” you bluffed.

“You sure about that?” His tone was cocky. “You don’t want to check that one too?” You really tried to rationalize it now. You tried. But how the hell did he know that you hadn’t checked it yet? “What’s wrong? Starting to get scared now, sweetheart?”

“As if,” you lied, but you were anxious as you made your way through the house towards the back door. “Besides, why are you doing this? Don’t you have anything better to do with your time?”

“What’s better than watching a cutie like you get all worked up?”

What did he just say? Watching? “I’m done playing your games asshole, I’m hanging up.”

“Don’t-” he started to say, but you were already ending the call.

You turned the corner and froze at the sight–your back door was wide open. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Cautiously, you moved closer. You reached a hand out, heart beating, fingers trembling, and shut the door. You made sure to lock it as you went to dial 911.

You couldn’t help but flinch when your phone started to ring. You pressed decline. Then, it rang a second time, and a third. On the fourth ring, you finally answered.

His voice came through, “We’re done playing when I say we’re done, got it doll? Our night is only just beginning.”

Part of you was in shock. Was this really happening to you?

It couldn’t be real. It had to be a joke or prank or something, but deep down, you knew it wasn’t. Fear and adrenaline pumped through your veins and all you wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry, but no, you had to stay strong–or at least, try to. This was life or death.

“And if I call the cops? Then what?”

He laughed at you. “You really think they’ll get here in time? Who knows what might happen to you by the time they arrive...”

Well, he had a point. This guy was probably inside your house, watching you as he tormented you, and loving every second of it. Honestly, you were surprised you weren’t already dead.

“W-what do you want from me, then?”

“It’s simple, just do as I say and play nice. If you do, I might go easy on you.” Play nice? What did that even mean?

“And if I don’t? Then what?”

“Then I’ll take my knife and spill your fucking guts onto the floor, you dumb bitch,” anger dripped from his voice. “Got it?!”

For some reason, a blush spread across your cheeks. Was... was his aggressiveness actually turning you on? You had liked his voice from the start but you never expected to be getting all hot and bothered from hearing him yell at you and call you names.

“I got it,” you replied.

“Atta girl,” he said and your blush only worsened. “It’s simple, really. I’ll give you 3 chances to find me.”

“We’re playing hide and seek?” You asked.

He chuckled darkly. “Mhm. Think you can win?”

You took a deep breath and thought, hopefully.

You walked through the house with caution, trying to look for the spot you’d be hiding in if you were a crazy murderer on the prowl for blood. You went past the living room and decided to check the coat closet first. Maybe he was hiding behind the rack of jackets you had in there?

You tensed your body and prepared for the worst as you extended your hand, twisted the knob, and yanked the door open.

“Wrong,” he said, sounding elated at the fact. “Two more chances.”

Where next? You shut the door and looked down the hall. Maybe the bathroom? You walked over and poked your head into the door frame. You approached the shower. With a quick motion you pulled the curtains to the side, only to reveal… it was empty. Ugh.

“Awwww, wrong again. Only one more chance. This is getting so exciting!” Just then, you heard a thump from the other room–your bedroom. “Come onnn,” he whined and said your name. “I’m getting bored waiting for you to find me.”

“I know where you are,” you said breathlessly as you crept to your bedroom. Again, you stuck your head in first to observe, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. You went in.

The bed, you thought. He’s got to be under it. It’d be a big enough spot for a big scary man to hide, wouldn’t it?

You walked in front of the bed, hoping and praying that you would find him and win and he would let you escape, but deep down, you doubted he’d let you go so easily. Like he said, the night was just getting started.

Your heart raced like crazy as you dropped to your hands and knees and peered under the bed.

Nothing. He wasn’t there.

Before you could even start to form a plan of action, you felt a pair of strong hands wrap around your waist and yank you up off the ground. He lifted you with ease and threw you onto the bed.

Your back slammed against the mattress and all the wind was knocked from you. You gasped for air and it felt like time was moving way too damn fast. You wondered, are these going to be the last few seconds of my life?

“Looks like I won,” he said, happy as can be, and before you knew it he was climbing onto the bed and forcing his hand over your mouth. Your vision blurred as tears filled your waterline, but still, you could make out his form. He was huge; broad shoulders, muscular arms, and a height that towered over you.

Then, you felt it. A hot, painful sensation prickled across your neck and you realized why. He had pulled his knife out and currently had the blade pressed into your skin.

Whimpers came from your mouth, only to be muffled by the palm of his hand, which was clad in a leather glove. The pain finally helped the tears fall past your waterline and down your cheeks. Now your vision was a lot more clear and you could finally see what your attacker looked like.

You stared up at him through your tearful lashes and were startled to see what stared back–a creepy black and white mask, with some creepy black flowing robes to match. You didn’t even know what you were imagining he’d look like, but it definitely wasn’t that.

Although... you weren’t complaining. You’re not even sure why, but the sight of his mask had even more heat pooling between your legs. Something about it was so attractive to you. It made sense; you did have a thing for some of the masked killers from horror movies you loved so dearly... Well now, it seemed that you were getting to experience the real deal.

His body was between your legs and he pressed his whole weight down against you, effectively holding you in place beneath him. You writhed, trying to break free, not that it was making much of a difference. He added more pressure to the knife that was against your neck and a particularly loud whimper came from you. His hand squeezed over your mouth harder.

“Ssshhh, sshh baby,” he cooed at you and you nearly swooned. “Aw I know it hurts, but doll, you’re taking it so good. Don’t start acting like such a sore loser now. I won fair and square.”

“Mmphh!” Was about all that could come from your mouth.

He shifted his body to lean closer to you, bringing his mask right in front of your face. As he moved you also felt something rub so deliciously against your throbbing core and your eyes widened in surprise. It was his dick, thick and hard in his pants, that was making such wonderful friction against you.

“And you really gotta stop looking up at me with those pretty little doe eyes,” he said. Surprisingly, his hand uncovered your mouth. He used his thumb to wipe away the tears on your cheek with a tender motion. “God, so damn beautiful. Especially when you cry. It’s getting me so hard.”

To emphasize his statement, his hips rocked forward and rutted into you, slowly. You could feel just how hard he said he was. Now that your mouth was no longer covered, you had the chance to scream or yell or beg for his mercy, but what did you do instead?

“Aah,” you moaned, quiet and breathy, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“What did I just hear?” He asked in awe. Shit, of course he heard it. “Did you just fucking moan?! Oh my god, what a filthy fucking girl you are.” God, so embarrassing! You could just die right then. 

He sank his knife deeper into you and at the same time, kept moving his hips against you, still slow and teasingly. Pain and pleasure mixed in a way you never expected.

“I bet you wish that boyfriend of yours was here to protect you,” he sneered.

Your mind was clouded and so hazy with lust, you didn’t even have it in you to lie. “Who said I was even thinking about him right now?”

His breath caught in his throat. “Wow, you’re even filthier than I thought. So you're just gonna let me do this, then?” He jutted forward with more force and you let out a yelp in response. “Dirty slut, of course you like it. And what would he think about that? Hmm?”

“I would never cheat on him,” you said, yet at the same time, wiggled your hips to try to get more friction between the two of you. “Ah, feels good. H-he doesn’t have to know.”

He brought his masked face next to your ear. “Which is it? You won’t cheat, or he doesn’t have to know? Those are two very different things,” he whispered.

He was right... but damn, you felt so conflicted, so guilty, yet so turned on.

He sat upright and set the blade next to his knee on the bed. You blinked up at him, wondering what he was doing, and your eyes widened once you saw his hands reach for his pants. With bated breath you watched him free his erection.

It was long, girthy, and the head glistened with precum as he gave himself a few pumps with his hand. You were mesmerized at the sight, mouth practically watering.

“Ugh,” he groaned. “Look what you do to me.” He tugged at the waist of your pajama pants and slid them off your legs. He used a hand to guide his member to your aching center. All you could do was look down and watch, completely enamored, while he rubbed himself on you through your panties. “I want to fuck you so bad.”

“N-no! You can’t, please.” As much as you wanted it too, you couldn’t. He tapped his tip against your cloth-covered clit and you had to bite your lip to suppress a moan. Damn, you really did want to fuck him.

The tip was replaced with his thumb instead. Gently, he swiped it along your underwear and brushed your clit, sending shivers through your body. He loved how you squirmed at his touch. Your lips fell open and the room was filled with the sound of soft moans while his finger prodded and poked at your hole through the fabric, which was already soaking with your arousal.

“Wow, what a little mess you are. So wet and needy for me, huh? I bet you don’t get this wet for your boyfriend,” he teased and you smiled, shyly. You didn’t want to admit it, but you loved the way he was talking to you. It felt so wrong, but at the same time, you couldn’t bring yourself to resist him.

“I have an idea,” you suggested and lifted your legs straight up in the air. You made sure to squeeze your thighs together as you spoke, “I mean... it’s not cheating if you just put it between my legs, right?”

“Right,” he was quick to agree and line his dick up with your thighs, in all their plump and juicy glory. He fingers gripped your flesh as he started to slide himself between them. “Fuck, princess, you feel amazing. So smooth and warm.”

The pet name and the praise had heat rushing to both your cheeks and your core. “Yeah? You like it?”

“Mmhmm,” he moaned and finally started to move, using short, shallow thrusts. He let out a choked sound as his head tilted back and his fingers dug even deeper into the sides of your legs. It felt great as he began moving with more speed and each thrust grew stronger. “You like being used like this? Like my little fuck toy?”

Honestly, you did. The feeling of his hips pounding against you, hearing his desperate gasps for air as he used you for his own pleasure, his possessive hold on your body... yeah, you loved it.

He reached over and grabbed his knife off the bed. You flinched when you felt the cold steel press against the back of your thigh and slowly slice into it.

“Agh!” You yelped, eyes closed and wincing at the pain. You felt blood dripping down your leg, courtesy of the fresh cut he had made. You opened your eyes and looked up at him, at his mask, while your lip quivered. Your pussy clenched around nothing and you were reminded just how badly you wanted to feel him inside you.

He tossed the knife back down and brought his hand to the wound. His palm ghosted over it, lightly. His fingers trailed through your blood before he kneaded your flesh and streaked the ruby liquid all across your skin.

His thrusts had become fast and sloppy as one hand continued to knead, and the other wrapped around your legs to keep your thighs squeezed tightly together. You looked away from his mask and instead glanced down at his cock. You licked your lips at the sight of the head emerging from between your legs. It twitched and leaked precum in the most enthralling way.

“I’m close, oh fuck,” he nearly whined. “Yeah–mmm, fuckkk,” he said, his words punctuated with the final few thrusts, and then he was cumming. “Open your legs.”

You did as he said and you watched thick, hot globs of cum spew from the head and dribble down onto your underwear. His hand was on his member, stroking lazily as the last few spurts landed on the fabric right over your clit. You gasped at the sensation.

“O-oh wow,” you said, feeling needier than ever now that your legs were spread and your lower half was on display for him. Thankfully, he took his finger and pressed it right where you wanted it most.

“Such cute panties,” he said. You had already been wet before but now your undergarment was downright drenched by the combination of bodily liquids, and it felt so amazing as he moved his finger in slow motions to smear his cum all over your clit. “But I like them even better after seeing what a mess we made together.”

You nodded, bashfully. “I like them better like this too.”

“Yeah?” He asked, voice smug. “I never expected this. You’re so bad.”

He was right, but still... Despite how bad you were already being, you wanted even more. Sure, his finger felt good touching you, but you wanted–no, needed more than just a finger.

It was like he read your mind because before you knew it, his cock, still hard as ever, replaced the digit and made contact with your clit next. Your legs twitched in response and you cried out, feeling nothing but pure delight.

He kept rubbing, moving the head of his cock in circles around your throbbing bud, then smacking it against you teasingly.

“Feels so good, doesn’t it?” He asked. He hooked a finger into your panties and pulled them to the side, revealing your naked pussy to him. Fuck, your brain was so muddled with desire that you really didn’t even mind him doing it. He continued, “Damn, look at that. So soaked and so fucking pretty.”

You giggled, enjoying his words but at the same time feeling abashed by them, “Stoppp.”

“I mean it, princess. Any guy would be lucky to be inside this pussy,” he said, then touched his dick to your bare clit, causing your whole body to jolt. “Aw, so sensitive. How cute.”

“What are you doing?”

“What? I won’t put it in.” He feigned innocence as he dragged himself through your folds, gathering your juices. “Like you said, it's not cheating. Just wanna feel you against my cock, babydoll.”

God, it was so hard to resist him. It was like he knew exactly what to say to make your kitty go wild. Apprehensively you nodded your head to give him permission to continue, and he was eager to.

Your body felt like it was on fire; red hot ecstasy burned through your veins and you mewled wantonly as his dick caressed your clit in the most divine ways. It was warm and wet and you felt entranced as you watched it slip back and forth against your pussy. He went harder and the increased pressure only added more pleasure for the both of you.

“Ah, just like that,” the sentence bubbled past your lips without you meaning it to. Fuck, you were probably liking this way more than you should be. His cock just felt so hypnotic against you.

This was never how you expected your night to go; trapped under a masked man who had broken into your house, while he teased his cock on your pussy, and your boyfriend was completely out of mind. And the worst part of all? The fact that you were enjoying every damn second of it.

Your words seemed to spur him on. He reached up and lifted the bottom of his mask momentarily and you felt a wet smack against your clit. You realized he had spit on it.

His saliva trickled through your folds and he brought the tip down to your neglected entrance. He pressed it in, just so slightly.

“Fuck,” you wheezed, surprised by the action but not completely mad at it. The stretch of your pussy around him burned in an addicting way, feeling like both heaven and hell at the same time. “No, no, you can’t. We can’t.”

“C’monnn, it’s just the tip. It’s not even a big deal,” he said, as if it really was so nonchalant. With no warning, he moved his hips and pressed himself into you a little deeper before pulling back out.

“Ah!” You cried and tears pricked the edges of your eyes as your body tried to accommodate his size. His dick was huge, after all, even if it was just the tip. He kept going, moving slow and tender and staying true to his words–using only the tip and not pressing any deeper.

Minutes passed, and of course it felt good, but your hips were wriggling like crazy, seeking more friction, and your mouth gaped open as loud whimpers came from it.

“Look at that pretty pussy taking my cock so nicely,” he said and placed his thumb over your clit.

“Yes, yesss,” you moaned when his thumb started moving. You swore you were seeing stars.

With each swirl around your clit, he simultaneously sank his cock deeper and deeper into you until your back was arched off the bed and your pussy was clamped hard around him. You were so blissed out you couldn’t even object.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” His praise added to your pleasure, and finally, his hips met yours as he bottomed out. His thumb left your clit and he combed his fingers through your hair, his touch surprisingly soft. “I can’t believe I’m actually inside you, all the way. You feel amazing.”

“W-we shouldn’t,” you protested weakly. “This is so wrong.”

“Is that why I feel you clenching around me?” He pulled his dick out and shoved it right back into you with a swift thrust. He chuckled at your reaction, “See? You did it again. You can try to deny it all you want but I can feel how turned on you are by this.”

“I’m... not...” you whined, but it was getting hard to lie. He had stopped moving and you were getting impatient. He didn’t care, though, just stayed still with his cock buried in you.

“Admit it,” he teased. “Admit you want me to fuck you.”

Well, you had already made it this far and had already crossed so many boundaries... so fuck it. You might as well enjoy the night to the fullest.

You pouted at him and begged with a sensual voice, “Please, pleaseeee, need you to fuck me, okay? I want it so bad...” You batted your eyes, your lashes fluttered against your cheeks.

He wasted no time. His hand grabbed a fistful of your hair, which he used to hold you in place as he started to pound into you with no restraint or relent.

“That’s my girl,” he said, reminding you of the fact that you were not his, but you liked hearing it anyway. “So glad you’re finally being honest with yourself. You know I can fuck you better than he ever could, anyway.”

It seemed his words were turning out to be true, because hot damn, he felt amazing. He was going so hard and so fast, everything about it felt perfect and you were absolutely gushing around his thick cock.

So many lewd noises filled the air. You closed your eyes for a second and listened. The loudest was his flesh slapping against yours, which sounded like applause as he rutted into you like an animal. Next, you focused on the squelching sounds of his cock going in and out of your slick hole. It was hot as fuck. Last but not least, were the noises you were making; high-pitched mews and needy cries.

His free hand snaked up your body, making sure to stop and play with your tits and rub your nipples through your shirt. His grip on your hair tightened as he tilted your face towards him.

“Look at me,” his tone was demanding. You opened your eyes and did as he said. “Such an obedient little slut, aren’t you?”

His hand left your chest and he brought it to your lips next. His thumb rubbed along them and your tongue lolled out of your mouth, eager to please. He pressed the digit against the tip of it. You swirled and lapped, getting even more turned on from the taste of his leather gloves. He hummed contently and you closed your lips around his thumb and sucked.

His hips started to stutter, clearly loving the sight, and the two of you moaned in sync. He popped his thumb out of your mouth and also removed his hand from your hair, so he could put both hands around your neck. He squeezed the sides roughly and your eyes rolled back. You felt dizzy, like your head was spinning with lust.

“Yesss, fuck,” you barely wheezed out. You sounded (and felt) totally destroyed as you praised him.

He leaned forward and pressed all his weight onto your throat. His hips snapped back and forth and his cock drilled into you. It was hitting deeper inside you than anyone had ever reached and truthfully, you never wanted it to end.

“I’m close,” he murmured, just as much of a breathless mess as you were.

You were close too. “Oh god, please don’t stop!” To make sure he wouldn’t, you wrapped your legs around his waist and locked your ankles together, caught up in the moment.

“What a naughty girl. You want my cum in you that bad, huh?” He spoke between thrusts. His movements were sloppy, his breath was uneven. “I’ll give you what you want then.”

His forceful slams got even rougher and you felt his cock pulsing inside you. Any second now, you thought. Finally, with a loud groan, he was releasing hot strings of semen deep in your cunt.

“Yesss,” you hissed through clenched teeth, so fucked-out and desperate for your release. Luckily, he didn’t pull out after he came. He kept slamming into you. He did stop choking you, though. As you gasped for air, a small part of you was happy to be able to breathe again, but mainly you just really missed the feeling of his strong hands around your neck. You never knew you would enjoy him squeezing the life out of you as he fucked you quite that much.

“C’mon baby, I wanna hear how pretty you sound when you cum. Can you do that for me? Just let go,” then his thumb was back on your clit, rubbing in circles. “That’s it, that’s my girl. Lemme hear you.”

You let out wild moans, not a care in the world, as he pumped his cock and pushed his seed further into you. The speed, the force, the way he was talking you through it, the way his thumb worked magic on your clit... my god, you felt so wonderful. Your whole body convulsed beneath him as the craziest orgasm of your life wracked through you.

“There we go,” he cooed, softly. “Let it all out for me, baby.” Your legs twitched and your walls quivered as you rode the wave of your orgasm.

Eventually, his movements slowed until he was fully still. The two of you said nothing and instead opted to try to catch your breath. You were both winded.

You whined as he started to pull his cock out, it just felt so empty without him.

Your body already craved more of him. You were even tempted to ask for more but then you both heard it–a car had pulled up in the driveway.

“Is that...?”

“My boyfriend,” you gulped. Oh god.

Post-orgasm clarity began to kick in and your mind was running wild. How were you supposed to explain this? You had cheated, and you had enjoyed it more than anything you’d ever done with your boyfriend.

Oh god oh god oh god-

“I better get out of here then,” your thoughts were interrupted and your attention was back on him. The intruder. The masked man who had just given you the best dick of your life. He’d already tucked himself back in his pants and was moving off the bed. “Wouldn’t want to get caught, would we?”

You stared at him, dumbfounded, while his cum leaked out of your pussy and slid down your thighs and onto the bed. Your sheets were a mess, stained with blood and soaking wet from both your orgasm and his. There was no way you weren’t getting caught.

You heard the car door shut, which kicked you into fight or flight mode. You shot up from where you were laying and ripped all the bedding off as fast as possible. You could throw everything in the washer then hop in the shower and hopefully your boyfriend would never find out. Right?

You turned to say a quick goodbye, but when you looked back, your room was empty. The only trace left of him was your bedroom window hanging wide open. He must’ve slipped out of it. You were disappointed you didn’t get to say anything to him before he disappeared, but honestly it was for the better. You didn’t have time to stand around, you had to get moving.

You ran to the laundry room and tossed the crumpled, messy bundle of sheets and blankets into the washing machine and started it. In the other room, you heard your boyfriend fumbling with his keys in the lock. You barely had enough time to grab your phone, run into the bathroom, and lock the door behind you.

“I’m home!” He called out to you. “Babe?”

“In the bathroom! I’m about to shower,” you yelled back.

You opened your phone and went to delete your call history. Your heart started racing like crazy when a text came in from a number that you didn’t have saved in your phone, it was-

It was from him.

Leave your back door unlocked tomorrow night. I’m not done with you just yet.

You read the text over and over. You hated to admit it but a wide smile had formed on your face. He wanted to see you again?

Of course your heart was heavy with guilt, yet at the same time, the excitement you felt far outweighed any negative feelings you had. Plus, you knew your boyfriend was scheduled for a night shift tomorrow night, so... you’d be free.

In fact, you had already made up your mind.

It was definitely wrong, but you knew it would feel oh so right.

[boiwcndr]

the first ever ric grayson x roy harper fic <3 i'm a trendsetter.

[notafunkiller]

out of style

Summary: A year after your divorce, you and Bucky come face to face at your closest friends' wedding. Emotions run high, leading to a fiery confrontation that takes a detour to Bucky's hotel room, where the old flame might just reignite.

Pairing: ex-husband!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, daddy kink, fingering, oral séx, no condom (but f is on birth control), language, a little alcohol, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 7.2K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

What an ass... He has no shame at all. And the worst part? You’re still somehow surprised by it. As if you haven’t known him for years.

You look away, making sure to take a sip from your wine before focusing on the conversation again. It’s Nat’s big day, and you’re so happy for her, but listening to this story for the seventh time is exhausting. Same reactions, too: “Wow, he’s so well trained.” or “The wedding bands didn’t fall even once. Enzo is fantastic.” He’s a trained dog, you don’t get why they’re so fucking impressed.

You give Nat a smile before you excuse yourself to go to the bar. Maybe you should get a cocktail, the wine tastes terrible. On the way, you notice Steve talking to Miss Sunshine in the right corner, and you just nod toward him politely, trying to look unbothered. It’s his best friend’s girlfriend after all. What did you expect? Plus, maybe it’s just a polite conversation.

“A Sex on the Beach, please,” you murmur to the bartender.

“Vodka so early?”

You turn your head with a sigh just to see a guy you recognize from Nat’s engagement party. A fresh haircut, a simple suit and wandering eyes.

“Is there a time limit for a cocktail?” you respond, rolling your eyes when you notice he is still fixated on your chest.

He immediately raises his hands in defense as he takes a seat next to you.

God, if you hate one thing about being single besides the lack of sex is this… needing to deal with those men. It was perfect when Bucky used to take care of them.

“I didn't mean it like that, sweetheart.” You scrunch your nose instantly. God no!

“Here you go!” The bartender places the glass gently in front of you, and you’ve never been more grateful to see her.

“Thank you!” You smile before taking a huge sip, hoping it will turn him off and make him get away.

“A vodka tonic for me.” His tone is commanding, and you try not to roll your eyes again as he leans in closer. “We’re matching.”

“Huh?” You choke.

“Vodka lovers.”

Alright, time to get out of here!

You quickly grab your glass and stand up, making sure to fix your dress just in case, but his eyes are already on your breasts again. For fuck’s sake! How is he Steve’s cousin?

And talking about Steve, you almost jump when you hear him saying your name.

“Hey.” You’ve never been happier to see him.

You can’t say the same thing about his friend, who’s right next to him, looking the creepy blondie up and down.

“Is everything alright?” Steve asks with obvious concern.  “Do you feel okay?”

“Hey, man! The food is great and the company even better. Look at her, such an eye candy, am I right?” He chuckles at his own disgusting comment. “I mean, you’re married. Don’t answer that, I don’t want Romanoff on my back.” And after all of this, he has the audacity to wink at Steve. But before you can throw your cocktail over his shirt and make a scene, Bucky’s already getting in front of you, blocking your view with his huge back.

“If you want to keep your teeth, get the fuck out of here and never, ever get even within three feet of my wife. Am I fucking clear?”

His tone is so cold, harsh, and arrogant at the same time, but also so possessive. It surprises both: you and Steve, because he immediately looks at you confused before dropping his eyes on your hand.

He must be looking for a ring.

God, you never hated Bucky more than when you see blondie standing up and going straight outside just like that. It makes you even angrier because it’s always a man who has to explain the obvious signs to these assholes so they leave. You say no? You are playing hard to get. You are with a man? Then it’s all off-limits.

You sip your cocktail with frustration, the taste of vodka lingering on your tongue.

Then, you take a step toward Bucky, grabbing his arm and turning him so he can face you. “Listen and listen good, I’m not your wife and I don’t need you to play the macho hero! I can handle myself, so back off!” You wanted to leave after saying this, but the way he looks at you makes you change your mind. His eyes softened, showing a trace of your old Bucky, and it only pisses you off more. He labeled you just like that... “I divorced you for a reason, I’m not your property or responsibility. Stay out of my fucking business or I’ll show you exactly how well I can take care of myself!”

You hand him your half-full glass and storm out, seeing red. Or well, blue.

You anticipated that he’d come after you, of course you did. You know him, as much as you hate to admit. You still know him well. Too well.

And when you hear his sigh behind you, you don’t jump.

“You can handle yourself, but he was all over you. Sorry for being a gentleman.” He apologizes sarcastically. “I guess old habits die hard.”

“Too bad, Barnes! I am not your little wife. I am not your girlfriend. I am not even your friend.” You turn your head to look at him as he’s standing on the other side of the balcony. “And I am not that flavor of the month of yours, you have to kill these habits.”

He raises his head. “Flavor of the month?”

“Yeah, your plus one. You know, you should take care of her instead of trying to play hero and calling me your wife.”

“Keeping an eye on me? He smirks. “Thought you divorced me for a reason.”

Fuck him! He thinks he got you... “I did! You couldn’t open your mouth to say what bothers you, remember?”

“Well, I opened my mouth to do something else, far more exciting.”

You gasp, incredulous at his audacity.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You scream, walking toward him. “Seriously!”

“What is wrong with me? You tell me! You divorced me for a reason.”

“Don’t you have someone else to bother? Fuck off already, Bucky!”

“You got angrier with me now than back there with him. Unbelievable!” He shakes his head.

You take a deep breath, trying not to have a crisis. You are not gonna let him get to you. “Look, can you just pretend this didn’t happen?”

He instantly looks at you shocked as he leans in. “This as in,” he waves between you two. “Our marriage? You think I can pretend our marriage never happened?” His voice grew louder, his words punctuated by sharp, angry inflections. “You think just because we divorced, you get to ask me that? How can you...”

You’re taken completely aback by his whole attitude, and it’s like you’re back in time at your wedding as he made you sneak out so he can make you come on his tongue after saying all sorts of things.

You don’t know why you suddenly remembered that, but you need to snap out of it.

“I meant the whole interaction, you annoying man!”

“How was I supposed to know?” He looks much more relaxed now, though, and before you can think about it, you’re poking his chest.

“Why would I tell you to forget about our marriage, Bucky?” You smile. “You are more than free to think about me as you fuck your little flavor of the month. I am not gonna stop that.”

You see his eyebrows raise instantly as his gaze drops to your finger. “My little flavor of the month? How many times did you think about me fucking her?” His hand finds your wrist. “Did you wonder if I’m fucking her from behind as I choke her? Did you imagine me coming all over her tits? Did you-”

You grab his cheeks, just the way he likes it, to stop him.

“You think I have nothing better to think about? I have my own dicks that occupy my thoughts,” you lie through your teeth, and he knows it. God, he knows it as he chuckles right away.

“What’s so funny, Barnes?” You let go, expecting him to do the same, but he’s still holding your other wrist.

“You have no dick to think about. I know you broke up with your last flavor of the month, honey.”

He knows how much you hate being mocked with the word honey, but you bite the inside of your cheeks. “It’s funny really,” you fake giggle, looking up at him. “You assume I don’t have someone already. Maybe I’m just enjoying my life after our divorce... new dick every month since I am a free woman. I don’t even need something serious. You know how much I love sex.”

His smile immediately drops, his face reddening.

“You are absolutely infuriating!” Even his tone carries a sense of irritation.

“Aww, what happened?”

It’s his turn to grab your face, making you gasp. You don’t remember the last time he touched you, and you’re shivering.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game, and you know it!”

“I don’t play games, Bucky, that is your specialty.” You smile, trying to maintain your composure. “Now let me go and get back to your little girlfriend. You can be mad about how many dicks she thinks about.”

“You can’t do the whole non-attachment shit. I know you well, don’t forget that. You’re my...” He talks so fast you’re surprised he stopped. You know what he was gonna say, of course you know. The audacity!

“I am not your wife, Bucky. You literally have a woman with you here tonight. We divorced, we live in separate places, and we fuck different people.”

“Who are you fucking, huh?” He almost spits the last words. “Tell me! Nat said you’re single.”

“You’ve been asking Nat about my personal life?” And she is spilling to him? No way.

“Fuck...” he frowns, dropping his hand from your face. “No.”

“Steve!” You realize. “God, this is pathetic! Why do you keep tabs on me, huh? Can’t you just mind your own business? Is your life goal to piss me off?”

“I’m not the one calling Jessica the flavor of the month.”

“Ha!” You laugh in his face. “Well, you have no success in getting a girlfriend. And they all look pretty familiar.” You can’t hide the venom in your voice. “The differences are they’re just taller and with less in the chest department. Quite interesting, don’t you think?”

“So you’re keeping tabs on me too!”

“You flatter yourself. It’s quite obvious, look at Jessica. Does she know you were married to me? Does she beg you to fuck her mouth? Does she...” You take a deep breath. “Does she call you daddy, James? Does she ride you until you lose control and turn her on her back so you can pound her?” You don’t care anymore. Right or wrong, you’re gonna let it all out. “Do you praise her? Tell her how wet she is for you? How your cock is made for her? Do you... do you tell her you love her while she’s coming? Do you fucking call her your good girl?”

“Jesus-” You don’t let him continue his sentence, interrupting him.

“Does she take you like I did? Does she beg for you because she feels empty, James? Does she? Did any of them?”

“Stop. It.”

“Why? You didn’t stop!”

He sighs, reaching out to grab your cheeks gently. “No one does, are you happy? I don’t even fucking try. I don’t let anyone call me daddy, I don’t choke anyone and I definitely don’t fuck anyone like I fucked you. Are you happy? Seeing me miserable and pathetic? Are you enjoying it?”

You can’t deny the satisfaction and relief you feel when you hear that. Dating post-him was a very bad experience overall, so him not upgrading, indeed, in any way, makes you feel victorious. At least, you’re both suffering.

“Yeah, I actually enjoy that.”

“What about you?” He snaps. “Do you do all of that?”

“I don’t want to be called daddy, James.”

“You know exactly what I meant! You call those losers daddy? You choke around their cocks? Do you beg for their small dicks to go deeper and finish yourself off after it?”

“Like I begged for your small dick?” You ask annoyed, knowing how dumb this lie is, but what else can you say? No one compares to him and never will.

His response shocks you as he reaches down to the zipper of his worn jeans and pulls it down.

“What the fuck are you doing? Are you crazy?”

“Wanted to, you know… give you more mocking material in case you forgot how small it is.”

You have to think twice about what to say because the first thought was: I have enough videos, thanks. But you can’t. You can’t expose yourself like that.

“James, what the fuck are you doing? Are you trying to hurt me?”

“With my small dick?”

You look away for a few seconds, not wanting him to read you. “Why are you doing this? We divorced, you’re seeing someone, I’m good by myself... just let it go.”

He smiles at that, and you realize you indirectly told him you are indeed not fucking anyone.

“Why would I let go of my wife?”

You’re slapping his chest before you realize what you’re doing. “Stop this, Bucky! Just fucking stop.”

He’s hurting you, how can he not see that?

“You said you divorced me for a reason. You said...” he pauses. “You ordered me to leave you alone. Well, what if I don’t want to?”

“What are you, a fucking stalker?”

“No!” He almost screams. “I am fucking in love with you, you infuriating woman!”

“W-what?”

He can’t be joking about this, can he? He is not cruel. He is not vile. This isn’t a game.

“I’m in love with you. I love you. You own me... you fucking control me.”

“How?”

He laughs hysterically, running his hands through his hair before pulling. “I am fucking obsessed with you: how you are, if you’re doing well, if you miss me, if you’re fucking someone else, if your date went great, if you regret being with me, if someone else makes you smile wider. I dream about you, I am so miserable I couldn’t be with anyone. With Mia it lasted a month. I wasn’t... I wasn’t okay. I am not okay.”

You look at him, waiting for more. “Go on and zip your jeans, we’re in public.” You  watch him quickly do what you demand before you continue. “And what about Jessica tonight? Or Alexa a month ago? Why are you lying to me?”

“It’s not real. Jessica... I was just trying to make you jealous, okay? I was sneaking looks all night, have you not noticed at all?”

You don’t smile, despite your huge instinct to. Instead, you cross your arms, watching him drop his gaze straight to your boobs.

“Why would I notice, James?”

“Well, how did you notice Jessica looking a little like you, that she’s with me here?”

Fair point...

“Just...” You’re suddenly gripped by this crazy urge to just fuck him right here. You even regret telling him to zip back up. You could have just lifted your dress as he lowered his briefs and took out his cock. And just like that, you could have just fucked against the wall or something. You would have let him rip off your panties too. You just need his cock so badly! “Shut the fuck up!” You snap, grabbing him by his neck so he can lean in enough for you to be able to kiss him. And oh, you kiss him!

You don’t have to fight to dominate the kiss, surprisingly, because he lets you. He lets you bite his lip and almost draw blood, he lets you unzip his pants again and push down his unfit-for-a-wedding jacket, and most importantly, he lets you be his again, as pathetic as that might sound. You feel him emotionally, not just physically.

Without wasting more time, you drop to your knees, making sure only your dress and shoes touch the floor directly. You drag down his pants and briefs at the same time from your position, and he looks at you surprised.

“I thought we’re in public and you were fucking some-” his words die as you bring your tongue to the head of his cock, tasting the precum, but not sucking even a little bit.

“Weren’t you saying something?” You tuck your hair strands behind your ears as you mock him. You love being on your knees for Bucky. He has this dominant energy, but he always makes you feel in power even when he fuck your mouth. And you enjoy it, you feed on it. One of the reasons you missed him so much. And he can take mocking. “Please go on. I am all ears.” You breathe out on his dick. “And tongue.”

“Oh god,�� Bucky’s voice is a moan at this point, and you laugh. So easy...

“I’m your god now? Aww! Come on, do I have to do everything tonight?”

He looks down at you confused. His blue eyes are almost grey, and you know he’s on cloud nine already just because you’re there.

“What?”

“Oh, you need translation. Well,” it’s all you say before wrapping your lips around his dick and using both of your hands to push him as deep as he can go inside your mouth. He moans at the same time you gag, and his balls slap you in the face. He instinctively looks at you to ask if you’re okay, but you are more than okay. You are fucking alive. You encourage him to fuck your throat at this point by squeezing his ass cheeks and touching his balls.

“God, look at you! That pretty black dress…” He pulls out and back in not as forcefully as he can, but enough to make you start tearing up quickly. “On your knees for your man. That mouth!”

You find yourself moaning at the feel of his fingers grasping and tugging at your hair. Jesus, how you missed this...

“You have the sweetest mouth.” Does he even realize what he’s mumbling? “I could die right here. Right now,” he says and thrusts harder, which makes you close your eyes. You can barely see anything because of the tears, and he’s already close. “My pretty baby, my fucking girl.”

You’re getting wetter and wetter the more he talks, and it’s crazy. You’re cold and your jaw is hurting, yet you love this.

“Not caring if someone can catch us, just making sure you mark me again. God, I'm gonna come, baby. Gonna... should I p-pull-”

You don’t let him finish his sentence as you grab his ass to make sure you keep him there, in your throat, as he comes while moaning your name.

When he finishes, he immediately helps you stand up, before he kisses you desperately, his tongue immediately licking your bottom lip to get access. He lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist tightly. You moan in the middle of the kiss because his semi-hard cock is right where you need it, and it’s like torture...

“Need to taste you, okay, baby?” He asks with so much need in his voice. He sounds so whipped. “Need my pussy. Can I take you to my room?”

That is perfect, a dream at this point. But you need to make him a little more desperate.

“But the wedding… They would kill us.”

“I am sure you care sooooo much about this wedding and Nat’s stories. More than about getting my tongue on that pretty clit of yours and making you come all over my face.”

You can’t hold back your laughter.

“Fair point, Mr. Barnes. I deserve my orgasms, especially after listening to you pathetically trying to seduce me by admitting how desperate you are.”

“You dropped to your knees on this balcony just to mark my cock as yours.”

You pull his hair a little. “You said it yourself, it's already mine. Now get that ugly jacket and carry me.”

Bucky snorts, kissing your cheek. “You bought me that ugly jacket.”

“I know.”

*

You don’t know where you left your phone and even though you should feel panicked, you don’t. All you can focus on is Bucky taking off your dress and groaning at the sight of your cups. You couldn’t wear a full bra, so you improvised. They could barely hold your breasts, but no nipples showing? Win.

“Hurry up!”

“Jesus,” he moans and reaches for your cups. Desperate man... you roll your eyes, but let him uncover your breasts and grab them into his hands eagerly. He’s not just holding them, he looks and touches them as if he’s never seen boobs in his entire life, let alone yours.

“James...” You sigh, throwing your head back in pleasure when he finally gets your nipple into his mouth. Your hand finds his hair instantly, and you watch him suck happily while playing with your other nipple.

“You’re quite hungry,” you say with a smile, stroking his hair. You missed this so much. His need to always touch or sleep on your boobs, the way he grabs them while he’s pounding you... You shiver in anticipation when he switches to the other tit.

“Fucking shit, I missed them so much.”

You snort. “My boobs?”

“Mine.” He’s not sucking anymore, he’s eating them, shocking you.

“H-hold on a second, Bucky. They’re breasts, not my clit.”

“It’s been a year, love. Let me get my fill. I died without them. Died!”

As much as you wanted to think only about the part he missed your boobs, you can’t help the jealousy that clouds your mind. You were divorced, yet the image of him sucking someone else’s tits makes you want to hit a wall. Mia all over him... You pull his hair angrily. “You surely had other tits in your mouth, Bucky, for the past year. Don’t pretend this is any different.”

He immediately stops sucking. “You... you can’t believe this. Tell me you don’t believe this.”

You look away, too proud to face him. “What am I supposed to believe, huh? It’s been one fucking year.”

“I’ve been yours this whole year. I’ve been thinking about you, fucking my fist while watching... our videos, as fucked up as it might be. I tried to date, but I failed, and trust me, it has nothing to do with the size of my dick and my age. No one is you. No one smells like you or talks like you. No one is my brat with the god complex.”

“God complex?” You raise your eyebrow, keeping your face straight. “Fuck you.”

“I will fuck it out of you as I usually do, don’t worry.”

“Then why does it keep coming back?”

He chuckles. “Because you want to get fucked all the goddamn time.”

“Like you don’t!” You puff. “Come on, I breathe in your direction and you get hard, Bucky.”

“Did you see yourself? Did you have sex with yourself? You cannot judge me!” He grabs your breasts again. “There is no comparison, okay? You have no rival. Never did, never will.”

“That’s all?” You puff, amused. “My looks?”

“Do I even have to say… Your god complex exists for a fucking reason. You’re the smartest, most sarcastic, and feistiest person I’ll ever meet. One mocking comment, and you know how I get.”

“Pathetic?” You mock him on purpose just to get the reaction he is talking about. You love it when he compliments you.

“Is this why you divorced me? Cause I am a pathetic son of a bitch?”

You  take a deep breath. “I divorced you because you refused to communicate properly with me anymore, and you know it.”

“So not because of my small dick, either,” he remarks, making you roll your eyes.

“No, your small dick is one of the reasons I am here.”

Bucky dramatically touches his heart. “So you’re using me for my sex skills!”

“As if you don’t beg me to use you. Come on, put that mouth to good use before Nat comes after us.”

He doesn’t disappoint as he finally rips your underwear off, just like you fantasized about, and you use this as the perfect opportunity to fish for more.

“What happened, Jamie? So eager. Aren’t you a little good-”

The word boy comes out as a moan when you feel his index finger curled up inside you suddenly.

“What happened, honey? Too big for you?”

“Dick!”

“You’ll get that. I just need to erase the memories of having little pencils in here. That must have been traumatic.”

“You’re such a jerk!” You snort, but he’s right. It was really bad.

Bucky shrugs, finally kneeling properly between your legs before lifting them on his shoulders. God, yes!

“Gonna give my pussy some loving.”

“D-didn’t know you have a pussy, James.”

He smiles against your inner thigh. “I certainly keep what I lick.”

“Eww, what the fuck.”

He snorts, kissing your slit. “I am joking, baby. Tried to imitate one of those dicks you thought you could replace me with.”

Petty fucking bitch! You grab him by his hair and push him closer to your pussy.

“Shut the fuck up and eat!”

His tongue feels like heaven, indeed, on your clit. You’ve lost count of how many times you remembered him eating you out so you can come this year. He's just so good at eating your pussy.

You let out a satisfied sigh when he adds a second finger. You start to feel like before… like you and Bucky are still married and with no problem. Like you're happy. He makes you so happy. Made.

So you stare at his hair and stroke it as he sucks on your clit, completely squashed between your thighs, and try to hold back your tears.

When he adds his third finger and starts tracing eight figures on your clit with his tongue before he flattens it, you know you’re about to come.

There is something about the way he always manages to make you vulnerable even if it’s not intentional, to cut you open and get in... and you don’t want it to be over. You can’t let him go again after tonight. You’d suffocate.

Your efforts to delay your orgasm and not tear up are futile because when he sucks a little harder, you come and start sobbing somehow. The orgasm is strong and even though you’d want to watch Bucky, you close your eyes, letting yourself go, and shut your mind down for a second. Everything feels so overwhelming. So amplified…

You’re grateful he doesn’t stop fucking you with his fingers, either, even though you felt him hesitating when he heard you crying. You really needed this.

As soon as you finish, you drop your legs, furiously trying to wipe your face. He knows the difference between crying because of a crazy orgasm and you being emotional. He instantly gets back on the bed next to you and pulls you into the tightest hug you’ve had in two years.

“God, I’m...” You don’t know how to continue this phrase. You should not feel sorry for crying and you’re not pathetic for it. “I m-missed you so much, Bucky. Why did you give up?”

You feel his warm breath on your forehead. “I never gave up, baby, I swear.”

“B-but you did. You didn’t even try for more than six months. When I told you...” You take a deep breath. “That I want a divorce, you didn’t even look at me. Once, Bucky! Not even once…” You show him your index finger. “You simply agreed. You gave up on us. I was waiting for you to say: no, let’s try. No, I’ll communicate. Your words...” You sob. “Your words would have been enough for me. You should know that.”

“Oh my god, baby, please, breathe!” He kisses your forehead over and over again. “I never gave up, I swear. I wanted to say no, I wanted to tell you all of that, but you asked me for divorce. It felt like you wanted out. You were tired of fighting... you were tired of me. And I didn’t want to tell you to stay just so you could either stay with me out of pity or reject me. I would have died... To look at you and beg, and to see you detached.”

You shake your head into the crook of his neck. He cannot...

“How would I be detached if I tried for six months? How would I get tired of you?”

“Exactly. You tried for six months. I thought you snapped out of it...”

“Out of what?” You whisper, scared to say it louder, but he hears you anyway.

“Out of love.”

You immediately lift your head to look at him. He’s crying, too. “Bucky...” You bring your fingers to his cheeks and start to caress them.

“I just couldn’t remember us like this. I couldn’t look into your eyes and see you staring at me like I’m a stranger.”

“Jesus Christ, when did we fail to communicate this much?”

He knows you don’t expect an actual answer, so instead of speaking, he holds you, and kisses you, and makes you giggle.

The more you move into his lap, the better you feel his erection pressing against your pussy. So close, yet so far.

He groans, placing his hands on your hips. “Careful.”

“Well, I don’t want you to be careful. I want you to fuck me raw right now.”

“Right now? He snorts, using his position to his advantage and moving. And just like that, you’re suddenly pressed with your back against the bed, and his mouth covers the valley between your breasts. That didn’t take a lot of convincing.

“Did you fuck anyone else without protection?” You ask unsure how to formulate it without it sounding a little weird. You’re not even sure you want to know the answer if it’s positive, but still.

“No. Only condoms and well... to be honest more my fist,” he chuckles, helping you get on your back again by bringing a pillow under your head. “I tested myself, of course.”

You nod, trying to hide your happiness. You selfishly wanted this: no one but you to feel him without any barrier.

“Good.”

“What about you?”

“No one for me, either.”

You would laugh at his proud face if you didn’t know he might use it to tease you later. You can use it too, though.

“Come on, baby, spread your legs for me. Daddy’s home.”

You laugh surprised, but you do what he says. You really missed having him between your legs.

Needy, you reach for his T-shirt, that for some reason is still on, and you tug it down, showing him you want it off.

He hesitates for a couple of seconds too long before grabbing his T-shirt by the neck.

“Come on, what did you do? Got a tattoo?”

You get your answer as soon as he’s finally naked.

“Oh, God!” You instantly lift your hand so you can grab his necklace. “What the fuck, James...”

“I told you I never gave up on us.”

“So you’re telling me you’ve been keeping it on since we divorced?”

He blushes, looking away. “Yeah.”

“Even when you were with other girls?”

Your heart is racing.

“Never took it off.”

You giggle, touching the surface of the ring over and over again.

“No wonder why nothing worked.”

“I had no intention to make it work.”

You say nothing, just looking into his eyes and letting him see how fucking much you love him, how he could never be a stranger, and you kiss him, wrapping your legs around his ass to show him what you need.

“I want you to pound me, okay? I want to feel you for days, do you hear me? I am so wet and ready. Please, just fuck me!”

You shiver a little when you feel the back of his hand brushing against your clit while he brings his cock to your entrance.

“Gonna make you mine again, alright? Gonna make you forget this year and everyone who,” He finally thrusts inside you. “Tried to get you.”

He’s thick. Really thick, and you can’t believe how you managed to survive without this stretched-out feeling for a whole fucking year.

“I hate you so much!’

He snorts. “I am pretty sure you love me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have my cock inside you after one year.”

“This is the problem!” You hiss when he pulls almost completely out. “One year, Bucky!”

“Aww!” He says a bit mockingly before thrusting all the way in again. Oh my God... you close your eyes. “Is this your bratty way of telling me you missed my small dick?”

“Bratty? You think this is bratty?” You ask him sarcastically before bringing a hand to his ass. “Harder!”

“Harder, huh?” He quickly unwraps your legs and turns you on your belly before you can react.

You gasp, shocked by how fast he is and hating the emptiness, but he ignores it, bringing a pillow under your pussy.

“Ass in the air, come on.”

You comply immediately, staring at his face from the side. He looks like he’s on a mission, with his hair already in all directions and the wedding band hanging around his neck.

The first thing you feel is his mouth on your ass cheek, licking on a spot before biting.

You hiss. “James!” It hurts, not more than a spanking, but you weren’t ready for that.

“Mine.”

You snort, wiggling your ass. “Yeah, yeah. Now gimme my cock.”

And he does. He so does, he’s not slowly entering you, no. He pushes in almost fully with only one thrust, making you bite into your pillow.

“You missed that, didn’t you? The way I fill you up is so good. The way...” He slaps your ass. “No one can make you feel so good. No one can fuck you like the desperate whore you are for my cock.”

You moan loudly into the pillow. You love being called a whore like this. Because he is right and he is obsessed with it, anyway. “B-Bucky...”

“Tell me whose cock you love? Tell me.”

He’s thrusting so fast at this point that you can barely even hear him.

“Bucky.”

“No, no, no. That is not what you call me like this.”

“James...”

He suddenly stops thrusting, and you whine, lifting your spinning head to look at him over your shoulder. No matter how much you try to tilt your hips to make him move, you fail.

“If you want to get fucked, baby, you gotta call me the right-”

“Daddy. Daddy, daddy. Happy now?”

He rolls his eyes, obviously not that happy with your tone.

You smirk.

“I see you need a lot of battiness fucked out of you.”

“Then why are you not fucking me, daddy?”

“Oh, goddamn it!” He’s not holding back now, moving like he used to. “Tell me, baby. Tell me you love me... that no one, fuck- no one is like me!”

His voice tinges with a hint of neediness... maybe even urge. His vulnerability takes you a little aback because it’s stronger than his mocking. He’s genuinely seeking for reassurance as he gazes at you with a mixture of desire, desperation and longing. He’s searching for validation in your eyes the way you were earlier, so you give it to him.

��You’re the only one for me, J-James. I love you forever. I never... I n-never stopped!” You can’t keep your head up a second longer as you drop it on your pillow, moaning.

“We’re getting married tomorrow.”

You half-snort, half-moan. “W-we can’t.”

“We can.” The sound of his balls slapping against your pussy almost covers the sound of his voice.

“We... we have to apply first.”

He spanks your ass again, and you scream, the sudden pain making you feel so good.

“So wet for me. They stood no chance. T-they don’t know how hard you want it.”

“Daddy, please... Please!” You’re a moaning mess. You just need a little harder. Just a little.

You’re not sure if you’re gonna have a voice after this. He’s pounding you so hard.

“My good, good girl.” He’s squeezing your hips, and the sound of your skin slapping is echoing. “God, gonna come for me? Jesus, wanna fill you up with my come too. Please, baby.”

You don’t know when or how he manages to do it, but he sneaks one of his hands under your body and pinches your nipple. You gasp, the wave of pleasure hitting you as he keeps fucking you. You feel your body weakening when he says your name over andl over again, but you don’t open your eyes for a while, letting him fuck you desperately while playing with your breast.

“Gonna- fuck, take my come, wife! Take me!”

He’s coming so much... surprisingly much even for him. You can feel him dripping down your thighs even when he slows down, then stops his movements before he falls on top of you as soon as he finishes.

“James...” You groan. “You’re heavy.”

He places a small kiss on your back, and you giggle.

“I love you.”

You melt, but he moves to the side before you can reach for his cheeks.

“I love you, too.” You kiss him. “So much that I let you drag me out of my best friend’s wedding reception.”

Bucky snorts, brushing his nose against your face. “Pretend all you want, I know you were bored as fuck.” You feel him slowly pulling out of you, and you whine. It’s a little uncomfortable. “Sorry, wifey.”

“I’m not your wife yet.”

“Yet, but you were and you will be again this week.” He takes your ring finger into his mouth.

“Bucky!”

“What? We need new rings.”

You try to pull out your finger. “No, we don’t. I have mine.”

“We need...”

“How about we use all that money for a vacation instead?”

“Neah, honeymoon is honeymoon.”

He finally lets your finger go. “We are not buying other wedding bands.”

“I am not debating a new engagement ring, though.”

You roll your eyes, but you know it’s the best deal you can get.

“Fine, a new engagement ring,” you agree while rolling ro his side and placing your head on his chest. “I don’t wanna move.”

“Don’t want to or can’t?”

You decide to surprise him by biting a spot right above his nipple. He groans while you simply laugh.

“You just can’t be subtle, can you?”

“If you’d wanted subtle you’d have gone for someone like Steve.”

“Eww, Bucky. I have your come dripping out of me and you bring up Steve?”

“You literally talked about Nat a sec ago.”

Then, as if a switch was flipped, your eyes widen. “Oh shit, my phone!”

“Where did you forget it?” Bucky asks casually, so used to gathering your things for you. You really missed that, too.

“Table. God... Do you think they know?”

“Know what?” He giggles, raising both of you until your backs touch the headboard. “That you dropped on your knees in the middle of the wedding to suck my cock? Or how I fucked you raw until you cried.” A sudden realization crosses his face. “You asked me to fuck you raw. Are you... still on the pill?”

You roll your eyes. “You think I’d let you fuck me like this for the first time we talked to each other properly since we divorced if there was a big chance to get pregnant?”

“I assume you are still on the pill, don’t be patronizing!” He kisses your nose, which he knows tickles you.

Ass...

“You are asking a dumb question instead of getting your ass downstairs to bring me my phone.”

“How is that dumb? I wanted to know if I should get you a pill or something.”

“So you don’t want babies with me!” You try not to laugh as you say it, biting your lip to keep your face serious.

“Why do you act as if I told you I don’t want a baby with you?” He chuckles when he sees you pouting. “We’re just getting back together and no way you’d want a baby now. But if I am wrong, let’s go for it. I can give you a baby, just get off the pills.”

“You don’t give me a baby, James. We have a baby together!”

He sighs, getting off the bed to get his clothes back on. “Obviously, but I am the one coming inside you. This is what I meant. I am all in. But we need some adapting time at least.”

You should stop this whole teasing-testing thing. You both have the same opinion after all. You might have a baby, and you know he’d be involved one hundred percent, but not now. Absolutely not.

“I know. Thanks for asking.”

“You’re such a tease.” He snorts, putting on his pants. “Before I go, do you want me to run you a bath or should I bring you a towel?”

“Do you plan on staying there?”

He turns his head to you instantly. “Yeah, sure. I am gonna eat some steak and brag about fucking my wife.”

“Alright, alright. Bring me a snack and we can take a bath together. Actually,” you think about it better. “I’m gonna clean up and wait for you.”

“You want me to fuck you again, don’t you?” He asks as he fixes his jacket.

“Why? Is this all you could give me?”

“Oh, fuck you!”

“Sure.” You spread your legs at the same time you grab your own breasts, making him groan. It’s so easy to get to him. And it’s hilarious.

“Jesus, you’re planning to kill me.”

“Not you acting as if it’s the first time this happened.”

“It is the first time in over a year, baby.”

You feel yourself softening again. “True. Now, please, please, please, don’t give them any details and bring me a snack.”

“What snack?”

“Anything, make me a plate, I don’t care.” He nods before reaching for the keys. “Oh, and Bucky? Tell your flavor of the month you don’t need her anymore.”

“I told you she is not-”

“And tell Nat I’ll make it up to her!” You interrupt him before he can finish his sentence. You don’t need him to defend a random girl’s honor.

“You’re so jealous.”

“Lock the door!”

You giggle satisfied when he closes the door and let yourself scream out of happiness while staring at the bite he left on your ring finger. Mrs. Barnes never got out of style.

[ladymochimochi]

✦♡✦ Need To Know ✦♡✦

Katakuri x Fem!Reader [AO3 Link] Description: Katakuri cannot get you out of his head. Tags: Masturbation, Fantasizing, Reader works as a maid for Katakuri, 18+ MDNI Words: 654 Part Two

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A quiet, breathy moan escaped from Katakuri’s lips as his fist went up and down his thick shaft. It took everything he had to keep himself upright, his back currently against his office door. His large chest heaved from his panting and a flush was spread from it up to his face. Sweat glistened on his body and he could feel his desperation for release coiling in his lower stomach.  

You were the only thing on his mind. Your face, your body, what it’d be like to taste you, take you. As he gave himself another stroke, your name slipped from his lips in another breathy moan. Oh, what he would give right now to have you here riding his face, or bent over his desk. If he were ever given the privilege, he’d worship your body the way it deserved. Eat you out just right and fuck you so good, you never stopped coming. The thought of it drove him mad and his fist pumped faster. 

When you came to work here at his estate on Komugi Island as a maid, you caught his eye immediately. He had never acted upon it, but you did occupy his thoughts, especially at times like this. Privacy was hard to come by for a busy man like him and he didn’t trust trying to jerk off like this except during his merienda time. He knew no one would dare disturb him and stroking himself to the thought you became a part of his indulgent relaxation time. 

More so than usual, you had been in his thoughts today. It was getting harder and harder for him to even be in the same room as you. Even you just simply bending over so that the shape of your ass showed nicely through your uniform was enough to make his balls ache. His merienda time could not have come fast enough today and within moments of locking his office door, he had his cock out.  

With his head titled back and his unoccupied arm thrown over his face, covering his eyes, he panted your name over and over. Precum had been dribbling out of him and now his cock was slick with it, causing lewd noises to fill the otherwise quiet room. He could feel himself getting close. His breathing was rapid and his strokes were getting sloppy as he chased his release. The image of you there, on your knees in front of him with your mouth open and tongue out was enough to do him in. Right as he came, he moved his forearm down from his eyes to his mouth, trying to muffle his groans. His come shot out onto the floor but he didn’t care, he’d clean it in a moment. As he tried to steady his breathing and come down from his high, you were still there in his thoughts.  

Something needed to be done about this. 

And soon. 

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On the other side of the door, there you stood – face flushed, wide eyed and death gripping the bundle of laundry currently in your arms. You had been on your way to the laundry room when you walked by Katakuri’s office and heard your name. Curiosity got the better of you and made you stop to listen to make sure you weren’t just hearing things. It became evident very quickly that you had not been hearing things and your feet had become glued to the floor while you continued to listen in. 

Now that it seemed he had... finished, you snapped out of your stupor and ran off down the hall. Who knew what would happen if he had caught you spying on him. As you scurried away, you couldn't believe what you had heard and while it honestly made you quite giddy, you vowed to yourself to never mention this anyone. 

Especially him. 

But......Fuck.  

You weren’t going to get over this anytime soon. 

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Ludos Imperiales III

Summary: Saving your mates may cost more than you bargain for, but how far are you willing to go to save them?

Content Warnings: Branding; Mentions of Slavery/Abuse; Vomiting

Pt 1 / Pt 2

----------------------

Fables had largely been forbidden in the Empire, starting in the early reign of my Great Grandfather Hybern II. Fables and fairytales had no use in the practicality of his Empire. Stories and fables gave people ideas, it made them hope and dream of better worlds than this one. The Empire could not thrive on the backs of dreamers. And so books burned in the streets, and the oral traditions of many people died in the following years. Schools taught with books written by Imperial Scholars, all edited and fact checked by the Emperor himself. The world became what he saw fit to shape it as. 

To him, the fairytale idea of mates was a weakness. He declared all mated pairs cursed by the Mother. A bond was a manifestation of a weak will. If you could not thrive on your own without needing another to carry you, then you were not fit to be in the Empire. He removed all mated pairs from service, both within the palace walls and in military service. Mated pairs were not allowed to own land within the Empire, Temples were not legally allowed to recognize or perform a marriage ceremony. They were shunned as lepers and regarded as subpar beings. The bond made them loyal to each other first and foremost, and that was an allegiance torn in his mind. He made sure everyone else saw it that way too.

Father would not have such an obvious weakness. In his earlier years, he’d scoured the Empire, searching every village he ravaged and town he conquered for signs of that supposed weakness. He’d felt a pull, to a small ocean village in Elfhaven, and that pull had led him to a healer’s cottage, tucked into the ocean cliffs. He’d stood on the threshold of her doorway, cursing the Mother, cursing whatever weak will he had managed to leave unchecked, and then, he’d tossed her into the sea. His father had thrown a city wide celebration in his honor. Finally, a son who could master himself and his weaknesses. He used to tell me that story at bedtime, when my Mother tucked me in. Love was for children. Mates were for lesser beings. Mother had never argued with him about it either, this was simply a fact in their marriage. Theirs was of convenience, a mutually beneficial contract, and I often wondered if that story was also a means to remind her that she too could be disposed of if a weakness revealed itself. 

But, I had been a lonely, and curious child and would often sit with the Nymphs that lived in the bubbling brooks and streams around the River House, and would ask them all the questions I was afraid to ask my Father. They whispered their own tales of mates between the bubbling rocks and rolling waves and I’d latched onto their ideas of a bond so strong it could bridge a soul together. Perhaps it was my loneliness, my need for affection I couldn’t easily find at home, but I clung to that little piece of what everyone else swore was fiction like my life depended on it. It became my lifeline. I’d pray to the Goddess every night for something like that; for someone who could love me beyond reason.

A dream that slips through my fingers as I step into that cell.

Cassian, chained against the wall with a gorsian collar around his throat, spits at my feet as I enter. I’ve seen hatred enough in my lifetime to understand the fire that blazes in those hazel eyes.

All the air in my lungs leaves in a rush, as if he’d thrown a fist directly into my stomach. He hates me. Hates me for what I’ve done to him; hates me for what I allowed to happen in that arena. Hel, judging by the way he sizes me up next to Father, he hates me purely because I look like him in the eyes.

My chest aches like it just might crack open and spill my heart out onto the floor.

For the slight, one of the guards slams the butt of his spear directly into Cassian’s gut, knocking him to the floor.

Despite the obvious malice, I have to physically lock my knees to keep myself from moving towards him; have to bite the inside of my cheek to not tell them to leave him alone. Maybe it’s not his fault he hates me. Maybe I deserve it.

“Charming as ever, Cassian,” Father says.

Cassian glares through the locks of sweat slicked hair falling over his forehead, “Fuck you!”

The butt of the spear slams into his temple and it takes every ounce of training not to let the dark, obsidian power trying to unfurl from my clenched fists turn the guard to ash. It would be so easy, a mere flick of the wrist and the only evidence that he’d ever lived a bit of dust left to mingle in the dirt coating the floor. I want to. Damn me, I want to splatter all of them across the dingy walls; hear the last, sharp intake of breath gurgle out of their chests for putting their hands on my mate. There’s a possessive, ugly thing that rises in my chest, threatening to choke the life out of me if I don’t move, act, on this base instinct. The bond rattles against my rib cage, a beast in its own right. It demands action, swift and immediate. It demands blood.

“You sure you can handle this beast, daughter?” Father sneers.

Cassian regards me with the disdain of someone who stepped in shit while wearing new boots. 

“I’m sure,” I say with more confidence than I feel, but I’m too much of a coward to look him in the eyes when I say it. My gaze flicks to the others instead, hoping against reason that I will not see the same hatred on their features. 

Azriel remains tucked in the corner, where he can use his body to shelter his broken wings. There isn’t the same malice in his own hazel eyes, but there is a cold indifference that cracks me open just the same. His earlier appraisal must have told him enough, because there is no lingering curiosity, only apathy. I am not asking him to throw himself into my arms; hell, I don’t even need him to smile, I just need something, any hint that my name alone hasn’t ruined this before it even starts! But there is nothing.

I try to keep my shoulders back, try to stop my body from curling in on itself. I want to curl up on the floor and wait until the old stones absorb me.

“I am curious,” Rhysand says, the s slurred like he bit his tongue when he hit the wall. “Why keep us alive?”

“Why let you be a martyr?” Father counters.

Rhysand studies me, violet eyes--glassy from what’s certainly a head injury, especially with the blood still flowing freely from an inch wide gash across his temple--rove over me slowly, starting at my hairline and working down. His head tilts quizzically when his gaze reaches my cheek. He shouldn’t be able to see anything in this light, but I find myself shifting my stance just enough to block the view all the same.

He frowns as his study goes lower, to the singe across my skirts, and the dirt stains from my stumble down the stairs. 

“I’d rather be dead than dragged around like a dog!” Cassian spits.

Rhysand won’t stop looking me over, like he’s calculating something. Not exactly the acknowledgment I want, but I will take the intrigue of his study over apathy and hatred as if it is. Curiosity is better than nothing. 

“You will honor your word, and send aid to my people?” He asks.

“If anyone is stupid enough to bet on you,” Father counters. “And if it makes it past the highwaymen and looters that have been waylaying my caravans. Your people might have more food if they weren’t attacking supply lines.”

My stomach twists. So Rhysand hadn’t been lying then, things have truly become that bad? Or have they always been that bad, and the sheltered nature of my upbringing had kept me from truly seeing it?

“Do you have supply lines that run through Illyria?” Rhys counters, not rising to the bait. “I can’t recall.”

“You will be branded,” Father says, jaw ticking as he doesn’t get the results he wants. “You will remain in chains and fight when called to fight. Any attempts at escape, and I will drag your people into the arena in droves. They can’t all be as adept at fighting wargs and Giants as you.”

Azriel’s gaze darkens at the threat.

Cassian’s lips pull back in a sneer, teeth flashing.

But Rhysand nods, gaze still on me, like he’s deciding something. I can’t, for the life of me, figure out what.

“Keep your end of the bargain, Highness, and we will keep ours.” He says.

“Rhys!” Cassian seethes. 

“Quiet,” Rhysand returns. Briefly, his gaze leaves me to go to Azriel, and the other male nods, just barely. 

“How noble,” Father sneers.

“We will do what we must to save our people.”

Father waves the guard at the door in. Another follows, holding a glowing hot branding iron in his gloved hands.

“On your knees!” The doorman barks.

The contents of my stomach rise in my throat. I can’t let this happen! I can’t let them do this to them!

Rhysand kneels first, well technically, Cassian’s still down from the blow to the stomach; Azriel follows, grimacing against the pressure it puts on his wings.

I cannot beg for them. I will give myself away. I will doom all of us.

I can’t let this happen either. I can’t stand here uselessly!

“You’ll do it,” Father says to me and my panicked train of thought slams to a screeching halt. What?!

The guard holding the iron snorts out a chuckle. “Doubt she can hold the damn thing.”

Father turns to fully look at me and I do my best to keep my chin up. I have to keep the mask up; I cannot let him see. 

“You wanted this. You’ll do it.” He doesn’t think I have it in me; that much is obvious. He thinks me weak and spineless and meek, unable to do what is necessary. I have always known it, but I have never felt it so clearly as I do now.

And maybe he is right. How can I do this, even for the sake of protecting them? How can I raise a hand to my mates?

I swallow the lump in my throat. If I reach out to take that iron, my hands will shake and give me away. If I stand here and refuse, I give myself away. There is no winning; how did I think I could play a game like this? He wins; he always wins.

Not today, a voice whispers in the back of my mind. My body moves without my consent, as if I’m a puppet on a set of strings, being moved by an invisible hand. When I reach out for the iron, my hand doesn’t shake, even though it feels like every part of my body is trembling. The iron is heavy and warm in my hands, I have to use both to lift it, and though I should struggle to keep a grip on it, the invisible grip on me holds it steady.

Two guards move to grip Rhysand by the shoulders, pinning him in place, even though he offers his right arm willingly. His right arm that’s shredded from elbow to wrist from the wargs, blood still trickling onto the floor. The wound is deepest on the outside of his forearm, with enough space above the inside of his wrist to mark. This is cruel enough as is, but to add further to the injury…

One of the guards grabs the torch to reheat the rapidly cooling metal and my stomach is once again back in my throat. I can’t do this to him!

Don’t let him win, the voice whispers again.

My body is still not my own, still moving despite my best efforts to not. It feels like I’m watching myself from outside my body as the iron is pressed to his skin. I can’t even gag against the horrible smell of burning flesh, like someone locked the ability to react behind a wall of adamant. 

Rhysand, to his credit, doesn’t even wince, just draws a sharp breath in through his nose. He holds eye contact with my Father the whole time in another silent challenge and I cannot decide if he is the bravest or stupidest male I’ve ever met. 

The guards reheat the iron as my body moves away from him, and I’m sure they make some sort of snide comment, but it sounds like I’m hearing it from underwater as I take in what I’ve done to him. The blistering skin forms a perfect circle, with the Imperial emblem stamped in the center. It will be a crude scar and hard to hide. My heart clenches painfully in my chest. What have I done? 

The guards move to hold Azriel next, and if I was unsettled before, I’m downright ready to throw myself on a blade now. The apathy has left his eyes, replaced now with barely concealed panic. He pinches his lips together, trying not to make a sound as I approach, but his chest rises and falls rapidly, scarred hands clenching and unclenching in front of him. Shit those are burns on his hands and I’ve got something on fire held out to him.

“What’s the matter?” One of the guards leans down to hiss in his ear. “Scared of a little fire?”

“You motherfucker!” Cassian shouts, trying to stand to get to Azriel. He’s quickly knocked back to the floor with the butt of a spear again. 

“Do it!” Azriel hisses at me.

My body is still not my own as it moves to comply. The whole cell reeks of burnt flesh and it is by the sheer force of whatever will moves my limbs that I haven’t heaved up the contents of my stomach on the floor. What kind of mate am I?

Gods I am as bad as my Father! Cassian knows it too; when it’s finally his turn, the look he gives me is one I’ve seen thrown at the Emperor a thousand times. There is nothing but venom and hatred there and the bond in my chest feels raw and thin, like it has been scraped and worn down to a single, solitary thread. And yet my legs still move and my hands still hold the iron steady.

He won’t ever forgive me for this. Even if I can get them out of the Empire, even if I can save them from dying in the arena, it will never be enough. I’ve ruined my chance before it even had a chance to start.

Cassian growls when the brand touches his skin, but he doesn’t scream. None of them did. This displeases my Father, who frowns, even when it’s done. At least he is not proud of me; that would be the final nail in the coffin. 

The invisible hand still won’t let go of me, I feel it holding me upright, like it knows, given the chance I’ll crumple to the floor and never get up again. How could I have done this?

Father turns to the guard closest to the door, “Go ahead of her to the River House, make sure the place is secure. Post extra guards.”

The elven male bows with an exaggerated flourish and disappears. I suppose I should feel relieved that we are almost out of this godsdamned arena, but dread settles in my stomach. It is not like my Father to make this quick, not for a convicted rebel, and not for anything I’ve shown an interest in. Taking them home now feels too good to be true and I am not inclined to believe luck or mercy have ever been on my side. 

“The arena will have to be fixed before we can proceed with the Games,” Father muses. “I expect you to bring your new toys with you to entertain our guests at Amarantha’s celebration tomorrow.”

They’re throwing her a whole parade for her exports over Illyria, of course she’d want them there to see it. I doubt they’ll be the only Illyrians in attendance.

Cassian growls at that. I’m inclined to share the sentiment. 

“As you wish,” I say instead. Hopefully, if I can manage to not let the guilt clawing its way up my insides to consume me, I can remain upright long enough to find us all passage out of here by the morning. This will all be a terrible dream. Even if we have to part--the bond roars in my ears at the thought--at least I will have saved them. It might be the only thing I have to give them.

Father leaves first. I don’t let myself look at my mates as I follow. The guards untether them from the wall and push them out after me, keeping a guard in between us, just in case they attempt to attack while my back is turned. I wouldn’t blame them if they tried; I’d attack me too.

I can’t get the smell of their burnt flesh out of my nose. Every time I blink I can see their blistered skin behind my eyelids. I branded my mates. 

The way out of the tunnels beneath the arena is a blur, it doesn’t even register that we’re out until the sudden flash of harsh summer light sears my eyes. 

There are horses waiting, and a wagon. At least he’s not forcing them to walk behind my horse, as some of the lords and councilmen make their sponsored champions do. 

I don’t remember swinging into the saddle. I don’t remember urging the horse forward, or when my caravan of guards split off from my Father’s. We rode together until we didn’t. Starlight, my childhood horse, does all the directing, taking me home on instinct. The house I grew up in, the house I sequestered myself in with the curtains drawn for months and months looks foreign. The staff coming out to greet us swim in and out of my vision. I must answer their questions, because they move things around for our new guests, instructing the guards to take the wagon around to the back of the house, where there’s a guest wing turned into a cell for them. All this sounds like it happens under water. 

I hear the wagon roll that direction, and even though I feel eyes on my back, I don’t allow myself to turn. I cannot bear what I will see.

Someone helps me to my rooms, holding me by the elbow, telling me I look pale and sick. I feel like I’ve stepped outside my skin. The tether in my chest feels raw. What have I done?

The sizzle of the iron on skin echoes in my ears. I can’t stop seeing the smoke. Can’t stop thinking about the panic in Azriel’s eyes. I hurt my mates.

I hurt my mates.

Whatever invisible force had been holding me together in the cell gradually releases me. Inch by inch I become aware of my body again. And I make it to the toilet just in time to hurl the contents of my stomach up. It’s the wine first. Then breakfast. And the acidic burn of bile out my throat and nose. 

After Mother’s execution I hadn’t been able to stop crying for days. I’d laid in my bed with the covers over me, hiding in the dark where no one could hear the ugly sounds of my wrenching sobs. I’d thought I’d never weep that hard again. I was wrong. This is far worse.

When I no longer have the strength to hold myself up over the edge of the toilet, I curl into a ball on the floor, the tile cool and smooth against my flushed cheeks. The tears won’t stop flowing and the thing in my chest coils and tightens until it feels like a rock. What have I done?

Eventually the tears run out. The thin slit of a window in the wall bathes the room in varying shades of orange, then pink, then purple as time passes by, uncaring to my turmoil. I still can’t bring myself to get up, even as the heat of the day turns to a cool, evening chill. No amount of cold could move me now, a little suffering is what I deserve. 

Someone knocks on the bedroom door. I don’t remember closing it behind me.

I shut my eyes against the noise. All this crying has given me a headache, the echo of the door against the tile makes my head throb. Good. I deserve that too.

Another knock, more insistent this time.

Why should I answer it? I should just lay here until the earth swallows me. 

Another knock, followed by a muffled, “Highness?” Anise, my maid. Anise had come with my Mother, a gift from her father as she travelled here for the wedding. Mother had freed her from her servitude and Anise had asked to stay as part of the staff. She loved my Mother like she was her own; I have always thought of her like an Aunt.

“Don’t make me kick the door in!” A grumpy Aunt, granted, but her temper is always warranted. 

Shakily, I manage to maneuver myself onto my knees. She really will kick the door in and her joints are old and worn, she’ll likely break an ankle, or a hip, trying. It’s for her health that I manage to get up and get to the door, not because I feel well enough to get up.

She pushes her way in as soon as I turn the handle. “You look awful!”

I feel awful. “Thanks.”

“What the hell is all of this?” She demands, waving a hand towards the hallway. She’s half Dryad, her skin like tree bark, her graying hair made of vines and leaves. Though she is old and weathered, her emerald eyes are still bright and shining. “And why are you so distraught over it?”

She paces as she speaks, not letting me get a word in as she wrings her gnarled hands together. “What’s with all the guards? And those… winged males? They are strange and gruff and I don’t like the looks of them. Which reminds me, why the Hels are they asking for you?”

My heart skips a beat in my chest. “What do you mean, Anise?”

She stops her pacing to come take one of my hands, a gesture for a Dryad that is closer to a hug. Her other hand pushes some hair off my cheek to see the yellow tint of a blooming bruise. “Did they hurt you?”

I’m going to be sick again. “No, Anise, they didn’t.”

“You promise?”

“Trust me, if anyone did any damage, it was me.” And I’ll never forgive myself for it. 

She nods. “Ok, then, I will tell you.” Dryads, like Ents, are known for their long winded conversations. They never know when to get to the point. I am used to her extra long pauses and rambling tangents. 

I am not, however, prepared for her to say, “Well they were brought food and a medic, as the guards ordered, but they refused it.”

Why the hell would they do that?! Was this some kind of hunger strike? By the Mother did they think I was trying to poison them?

“They said they wouldn’t touch it until they’d spoken to you.”

I think the heat has gotten to me. Did she just say they asked to speak to me?

“It’s very strange,” she continues. “Males in that bad of shape usually fight for a chance to see a medic, but they said they wouldn’t let anyone touch them until they’d talked to you alone.”

Alone? They wanted to talk to me alone?

“Are you sure that’s what they said, Anise?”

“They were very adamant about needing to see you. Rude if you ask me. Who demands to see the head of a household like that? They’re trouble, I’m telling you now.”

“They didn’t say why?” I ask.

“No. They wouldn’t say it around the guards either. I don’t like this, Highness. It’s a bad omen if you ask me. The winds have been whispering all day. Bad, very bad things will come of this, mark my words.”

Bad things had already come, couldn’t she see that? They were not the issue; I was the issue. This whole damn Empire was the issue. We ruin everything we touch. They knew that better than anyone, so why ask for me? What did they want? It certainly can't be the bond.

I absently rub my knuckle against my breast bone. The bond feels like a bruise. No, they can’t be asking about the bond. If they know it’s there, they’re not tugging on it. There is no curiosity, only pain. I’ve ruined the chance for anything more, of that I am certain. 

This has to be something else, but how can I face them? There is only so much I can bear.

“You’ll make them wait, won’t you?” Anise continues. “You certainly should. It’s improper for a host to be asked for this late into the evening.”

They need medical attention. Their wounds have to heal. And they need to eat. They have to be starving, I doubt they were given a last meal before being thrown into the arena. Raw and damaged as it is, the bond still prompts me to move, even if I’d rather hide from it for the rest of my life.

“No,” I might as well rip the bandaid off. Maybe they need to tell me to my face that they hate me and never want to see me again. It can be arranged for us not to interact, even with me sponsoring them. 

If that is their wish, I will honor it. Whatever it is they need, I’ll find a way to make it happen. I owe them that. “I’ll go see them.”

------

Taglist: @sirenpearldust, @saltedcoffeescotch, @littlemissfix-itfic, @waka-babe, @raisam

//

@anainkandpaper, @rafeecameronsbitch, @whothehelliskayleigh, @lifetobeareader, @blimpintime

//

@hjgdhghoe, @krowiathemythologynerd

[fanfics-for-you]

what's in a name? || Patrick Verona (TTIHAY) x gn!reader (Modern!College!AU)

AVAILABLE ON AO3 (SOON)

Inspiration: ✨️Patrick Verona✨️

Summary: Patrick Verona is apparently the most intimidating guy on campus. You just want to get by, pass your classes, and get to your actual dreams. When you casually approach him one day and decidedly are not scared of him, Patrick has some questions.

TWs: light language, use of Y/N (only like twice), second person POV (you, yours).

[[A/N: This is basically under the concept that you approach Patrick first, and aren't really as afraid of him as anybody else. He's intrigued. Also this is a college AU, because I am in college and I think it's weird to write about high school lmao. ALSO,,, I know this is incredibly niche and a dead tag, but... I watched the movie recently and was violently possessed to write this. The parasites in me what to continue this universe, but idk. Anyway. Enjoy :)]]

You were exhausted. Totally and completely exhausted.

You'd stayed up all night for your chem quiz, and still, didn't think you did great on it. Which made your day ever so worse. So, when you went to the library, and someone was sitting in the spot you always sat in, you halfway wanted to cry and halfway wanted to rip your hair out. Normally, such a thing wouldn't be a big deal, but today it was. So, with a certainty that rivaled a lawyer in court, you stomped over to the chair.

For a moment, the guy didn't even look at you. He kept staring at his friend, a surprisingly 'metal' dressing guy who was talking avidly about something.

You cleared your throat.

That's when they both looked at you.

You were entirely focused on the one in your seat. A taller guy with built shoulders, curly hair and a sharp jaw. In normal circumstances, you'd probably think he was hot. Today was not normal circumstances.

The man raised an eyebrow.

Okay, so maybe it was a little normal circumstances, but that wasn't relevant.

"What are you doing?"

The man answered, simply -maybe a little confused, "Sitting?"

"That's my spot," you clarified, pointedly.

"Oh, I'm sorry-" the man pretended to start getting up before pausing -speaking sarcastically, "-Oh wait, I've just remembered, this is public property."

Mindlessly noting that he had an accent that you couldn't quite place, you rolled your eyes, "I sit there everyday. Just give me the spot."

"You weren't sitting here all day," he pointed out, "-or else I wouldn't be here."

You pressed your lips together into a thin line, "I was busy failing a chem test, now get up."

His eyes skimmed over your face, thoughtfully, "Do you know who I am?"

"Why-" you sighed out, frustrated, "-would I know who you are?"

Even despite the comment, he did seem familiar somehow but you weren't going to tell him that.

He furrowed his eyebrows for a moment, and didn't say anything. You felt like you were going to explode in fiery flames.

You groaned, "Oh my god. There are thousands of seats on campus, just go sit somewhere else."

"Exactly," the man countered, "-why don't you sit somewhere else?"

"Because-" you huffed out a breath, "-that's my spot."

"And why is this spot so important to you?" He shuffled slightly, moving his hands along the cracks of the seat, "-You got something good stashed in 'ere?"

"Dear god," you huffed out a breath in defeat, "-Whatever. Enjoy your seat, asshole."

And with that, you spun on your heel and pulled yourself deeper into the library. Taking a breath in, you pulled yourself into a seat not too far from the original, but you were around the corner so you wouldn't have to look at his stupid face. You soured just at the thought.

You pulled open your chem book, and read through it -trying to figure out which ones you definitely missed, that way you could get the ballpark for what your grade might be. You really needed to know, to make sure your GPA stayed in the range for your dream university.

But, in the middle of it, you heard someone plop into the chair in front of you (it was a group of chairs, like for a group of people if necessary).

Before looking up, you spoke -sharply, "Do you mind?"

"Not at all."

Your eyes shot up at that familiar accent, and you frowned.

"You got the seat," you pointed out, bitterly, "-What the hell do you want now?"

"Your name," he answered simply.

You blinked, (what?) before settling back into your seat and flipping to the next page, "Yeah, no."

The man seemed to move forward, and unwillingly your eyes flickered to him (his curls moving with the motion), "Why not?"

"I don't give my name out to strangers," you retorted -flicking your eyes down to your book, "-especially not assholes."

"Don't know if I can change who I am," he smirked, "-but, I can work on the stranger part."

You frowned, eyeing him particularly, "Seriously, what do you want?"

"I already told you," he replied, fidgeting with something in his hands (you weren't paying attention), "-I'm Patrick, by the way."

"Well," you exhaled, sharply, and ignored his name, "-you're not getting it."

"Well," he repeated with the same sort of grin, "-I'll just have to work on that too, then."

You looked up at him again and squinted at him -trying to read him somehow. All he did was grin at you, a charming kind, of course, that made crinkles on his cheeks. You ignored the flutter in your chest that it gave you and darted your eyes back down to your book.

The next day, you were in better spirits. After studying for an entirely different class, you were pretty sure you aced that test. So, you weren't as pissed, thankfully. Until you went into the library to sit between classes like you always did.

You paused in your step and frowned.

The guy (Patrick, your mind treacherously noted) was sitting by your chair, mindlessly tapping his fingers along the arm of the chair. He wasn't in your chair, thankfully, but still, he was in the one beside it. Pointedly close.

You huffed out a breath, and moved toward the chairs, "What are you doing?"

"Sitting," he repeated.

You raised an eyebrow.

He seemed to take that as a repeat of the question -before saying, confidently (too confidently), "I'm studying for a test."

"You don't seem like the studying type," you retorted, throwing yourself into the chair and pulling out your laptop -realizing it was no use to try and get him to leave.

Patrick pointed out, "You don't even know me."

"And I don't intend to," you replied with ease, flicking your eyes to meet his, "-your point?"

He grinned the same bright one from before, amused maybe. Your heart skipped a beat, so you dropped your eyes back down to your laptop. He, on the other hand, didn't seem to look away.

"What's your major?" He asked, thoughtfully.

"I won't tell you my name," you leveled, scrolling through your online schedule for homework, "-but you think I'll tell you my major?"

"Well," he reasoned, "-a name is much more identifiable, but your major," he shrugged, "-not so much."

You eyed him again for a second, before saying, "What if you just want to look up my classes and hunt me down?"

Patrick smiled again, before asking, "What is your next class?"

"Why?" You ask, pointedly, "-So you can force me into talking to you again?"

"Preferably," he replied, grinning cheekily.

You raised an eyebrow, and bit your lip to pull down a smile that begged to quirk up, "I'm not telling you that either."

"What if I just follow you when you leave?" He questioned, curiously, "-Figure it out myself?"

"And what if I-" you smiled at him -patronizingly, "-call the campus police?"

He raised both eyebrows as if to say 'touché' without saying it out loud. You bit down another smile and moved back to your computer -pulling out your planner and jotting down dates.

"Your pissiness," he suddenly spoke, "-Are you often filled with boiling hatred?"

"No," you sigh out, before shooting him another patronizing smile, "-that's special just for you."

He laughed then, and something warm zinged down to your toes (you ignored it), "Do you seriously not know me?"

"Do you know how many Patricks exist in the world?" you point out, "-No, I don't know you."

"So you do remember my name," he smirked, patting along his lap with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes but didn't say a word.

It ended up like that for the rest of the time, Patrick shooting questions now and then, and you shutting them down. His stupid smirk and low, rumbly, accented voice, you hated that he actually seemed kinda nice -all things considered.

But, as you stood up to leave, you decided on something.

"Literature," you said simply, gathering up everything into your bag.

He paused, shooting up his eyebrows, "What?"

"My next class," you answered, nonchalantly pulling your bag onto your shoulder, "-Intro to Literature."

Patrick grinned, bright and shiny, "Gen Ed?"

"Yeah," you answered, moving to put the last few things in your bag.

"Can I walk you?"

Your eyes snapped to him then, curiously -detailing the rather honest look, before answering solidly, "No."

He burst into laughter then, throwing his head back against the chair -you mindlessly watched his curls fall back with the motion and then snapped your eyes away.

"Same time tomorrow then?" He asked, still laughing a little bit (something in you twinkled).

"Nope," you exhale a breath, ignoring the disappointment that swirled into your chest, "-I'm not on campus tomorrow."

He seemed to falter for a second, "Do you live on campus?"

You raised a solid eyebrow, you really think I'd tell you that?

"Right, yeah, okay," Patrick conceded, holding up his hands in faux surrender, "-What days are you on campus?"

You paused, pressing your lips together, but something in you did it, "Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays."

He grinned a little brighter, "Are you here around the same time on Mondays?"

Something in your chest flipped, but even still, you answered, "That's what you have to figure out. Not me."

And then, you spun on your heel and walked out of the library. His laughter trailed out behind you, and if you had a small little smile on your face at the noise, that was only for you to know.

Monday came, and you woke up early and made your way to campus -the first class of the day was at the crack of dawn. You physically despised it, but so is the schedule of a college student. Plus, you still worked, so the earlier the better for your schedule -didn't mean it didn't suck though.

Sipping on your drink, you wandered back toward the cafeteria -crossing the main connecting area, where everything led to. There was a baseball game going on, not an official one by the looks of it, in the grass. Your eyes hinged on the game for a few seconds, the echoes of laughter shooting toward your ears. It looked fun, but you weren't too invested in being outside for that long. Before you could look away though, your eyes caught on a familiar frame.

Patrick.

His hair was tied back, and he was wearing a pretty bland tank top (just grey), with some typical jeans. With his hair pulled back, you could see his jaw more distinctively -the sharp lines clear from even this far away. (Not that you were looking.) The sun bore down on them but all of the players seemed to be happily distracted. And you kinda were too.

You pursed your lips, for a moment, and looked forward again after a breath, heading toward the cafeteria again confidently.

Before you could get very far, though, you heard a familiar accent.

"Hey!" He yelled, a little distant -footsteps following his voice, "-Hey!"

At first, you weren't sure if he was talking to you, so you kept moving.

"Shit, I don't know what to call you," he called out, breathless and much, much closer.

You spun on your heels with furrowed brows, and met his eyes over a few people's heads. The grin that swallowed his face whole should've been criminal, bright and twinkly and... charming.

Before you could say anything, he was by your side with heavy breaths -assumedly from playing baseball and getting over to you. Leaning over slightly, he leveled out heavy breaths. You were almost concerned enough to offer him water, but he seemed to settle himself before you could.

"Hi," he echoed, "-'Ve been looking for you all morning, what time did you get here?"

You blinked, all morning?

"I get here early, 7, and immediately go to class," you answered, a little blankly (looking for you, looking for you, looking for you).

"Oh," he paused, "-I got here at 8. There's classes at 7?"

"Obviously," you respond, because you did in fact just say it.

"Did you-" Patrick started, before pursing his lips together, "-Are you going to the library now?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, "No, I'm going to the cafeteria to eat between classes. Why?"

"I'm actually quite hungry myself," he avoided the question, "-Do you mind if I tag along?"

"What about your game?" You furrowed your eyebrows even further -eyeing him curiously.

"'S just to fill time," he explained, "-It's nothing serious. They're sure to find someone to fill in for me."

You flicker your eyes along his face, trying to read him. What's your prerogative?

After a moment, you come up with nothing and instead, just turn on your heel -leading the way to the cafeteria.

"I'm taking that as a yes, then?" Patrick called out from behind you, catching up and matching your stride with ease (despite you making no move to slow down).

You decidedly don't answer him, and say something focused elsewhere -eyeing him as you walk forward, "Do you always stalk people this much?"

Patrick laughed, catching your eye with his warm brown ones (they were almost sparkly under the sun of the day), "Only the ones that blindly hate me."

You pressed your lips together in a flat line (trying not to give anything away), "I didn't say that I hated you."

His face lit up at the words (and you couldn't decide if you regretted it or not), "Well, you could've convinced me."

You roll your eyes, and keep walking forward, "Not telling you my personal information isn't... hating you."

"I'm not sure not introducing yourself is exactly anything but hatred," he argued back, fluidly.

"I just told you that I don't hate you," you point out, "-so it isn't."

"Does that mean you'll eventually tell me your name?" Patrick asked, curiously.

You turned to him, flicked your eyes over him, and then looked forward again, "Maybe on good behavior."

He burst into laughter, brown eyes set on your face, "You're quite an enigma, you know that?"

"And you're not half the mystery you portray," you fire back, naturally, with the flow of the conversation.

He grinned at that, eyes shining with something you couldn't quite label, "You know, I don't think I've met a person like you. You're fearless in like a-" he motioned with his hands, "-casual way."

"I'm not fearless," you argue, approaching the door to the cafeteria, "-I'm just confident."

"Do they not go hand-in-hand?" Patrick offers, getting to the door before you and promptly holding it open for you -unflinchingly.

Something warm stirs in your stomach at the gesture (and his woodsy scent that brushes your nose as you walk past him), but you ignore it, "You can be certain and still be afraid."

"But knowing you're right doesn't necessarily mean-" Patrick followed you in, matching your stride again, as if it's natural, "-that you're confident."

You furrow your eyebrows, genuinely intrigued, "What do you mean?"

He paused, maybe a little shocked by your attentiveness, "Plenty of people know they're right and still concede to someone else because they don't want to fight it. You-" he pointed at you, "-will fight it."

"Well," you purse your lips, avoiding his eye contact, "-maybe I'm only like this with you."

"You," Patrick paused, "-You're not this fiery ball of rage with anyone else?"

You eye him for a second, before saying flatly, "Maybe."

"All of this seething hatred and impressive indifference just for me?" He grins, the big teeth-showing kind, "-I'm touched really. Because I am special to you in some weird kinda twisted way-"

Before you can stop yourself, you let out a laugh at his words -just a quick one. Barely there.

But you could still see the delight smooth along his face, and just knew he caught it.

"How much of that have you been holding back?" He tilted his head curiously, before continuing to push it, smirking, "-Oh I bet you think I'm hilarious."

Your heart skipped a beat at the smirk, and you simply pressed your lips together and turned on your heel to the food counter. There wasn't even a second before you heard footsteps following you.

"You're not denying it, you know," he called after you, close on your tail.

You peer over the selection of food, eyeing the different items thoughtfully, "But I didn't confirm it either."

"Still not denying it," Patrick hummed, sing-songy.

"You know," you turn to him (mindlessly noting that he is very close), sharply, "-someone can have one good joke and still be unfunny."

He leaned forward slightly, eyes set on yours -challenging, "Then tell me why it came out like you were holding it back?"

You blinked at him, once and then twice, the sudden closeness sent a shock through your brain and the challenging tone of his voice nearly gave you full-body shivers. You can't find words to say, and you can nearly see it processing on Patrick's face (the way that he had made your mind melt for a moment), so you turn to the counter and point at something random for them to pick out for you.

The woman eyes the two of you suspiciously, but still diligently pulls out a to-go plate and piles the... mashed potatoes onto it.

"Oh my god," he finally says after a moment (you ignore it).

You go through a few other items, and the woman gathers them onto the plate. You pay, grab your plate-

"You like me," Patrick retorts, and you're not even looking at him but you can tell he's got a shit-eating grin.

Your brain malfunctions for a moment, but you step toward the tables and fire back (on autopilot), "I won't even tell you my name."

He's hot on your trail, following you diligently, "You're avoiding the question."

You spin to him, and reply -sharply, "You didn't ask a question."

His eyes flicker along your face, taking you in (you want to squirm but you steel yourself in place -your eyes now challenging), and then he grins so bright that you'd need sunglasses in any other scenario.

"Oh, you're really into me," he continues, low, gravelly, accented voice rumbling through your ears.

You screw up your face into something defiant, roll your eyes, and turn back to slide into a table. Patrick follows you like a lost puppy. Well, an incredibly arrogant lost puppy.

"You're still not denying it," he slides into the chair beside you and you hate the way your brain swims at the woodsy smell that brushes your nose.

"'Thought you were hungry," you say, simply (avoiding the question and decidedly not denying).

"It was very obviously a ploy," Patrick chimed back, with natural ease -tilting his head slightly and looking at you with twinkling eyes, "-They had pizza out there for all the players. I've already eaten."

Your fork froze for a millisecond (even still, you were sure he caught it), and after a moment, you pulled it to your lips. Maybe conquering both of your lack of response and the way your mind lit up at the idea of 'he just wanted to see me'.

His smile and eyes seemed to soften slightly, as he leaned his head down to catch your eye and guide it back up to your natural gaze (your heart skipped a beat). His brown eyes were soft and if you were honest, maybe a little affectionate.

"What's your name?" He finally said after a soft few moments.

And just like that, for you, the moment snapped, and you rolled your eyes -turning back to your food.

"Oh, come on," Patrick tried to catch your gaze again, "-Look, I'll tell you. Patrick Verona. That's my name-"

You bit down a smile, as he motioned to you with his hands.

"-Now, your turn, tell me yours."

You raised an eyebrow.

Patrick let out a half-laugh, before leaning forward slightly on the table -not quite a breath away, but certainly closer.

"You're so stubborn," he laughed, "-I'll beg. You want me to beg?"

You can't help but let the smile slip onto your lips then, "Why would you beg for my name?"

"Because I want it," he pointed out, still grinning "-Because I want to know you, and personally, I think it should start with a name."

Your heart fluttered in your chest, and you let your fork hang there on the path to your face. You took a moment, scampered your eyes along his face (dark brown eyes so incredibly soft, curls coming down from where he put them up in individual tendrils). Your resolve was weakening, it was really and truly broken under Patrick Verona's hand.

Stupid pretty boys-

"Y/N," you said finally (quieter than intended), immediately pulling a bite to your mouth.

Patrick blinked, "What?"

"'S my name," you explain -shortly, moving a hand in front of your mouth as you chew, "-Y/N."

His eyes lit up at the words, that stupid charming grin smoothing onto his face as he repeated, softer than expected, "Y/N."

You shove down the fluster that begs to climb up your cheeks at his accented voice saying your name. It's something you'd never really thought about but now that it's said, you probably should've thought about it.

Patrick leaned back in his chair, eyes still set on you. He was still grinning, as he said simply, "Suits you."

You furrow your eyebrows, "What's that supposed to mean?"

He raises his hands in faux surrender, laughing to himself, "Jesus, you're a true ball of rage, you know 'at?"

"I'm not-" you huff out, and take a deep breath in, "-I'm not mad."

"Defensive then," he mends, "-You act as though I'm about to strike any minute."

You pursed your lips, "Whose to say you aren't?"

"Me," Patrick laughs, "-This entire conversation. The way I've acted around you since the beginning-"

"Oh, shut up," you roll your eyes, unable to stop the smile creeping onto your lips, "-you were an asshole once."

He groaned, but something like amusement was twinkling in his eyes, "You are the most stubborn human being on this earth-"

"You took my spot," you interrupt, sturdy.

"-It's public property," Patrick argued back, "-and how was I supposed to know it was yours before I sat in it?"

You paused, for a moment, before saying, "You couldn't. But, you could have given it to me when I asked."

"And then we wouldn't be here," he explained, now fully grinning, "-and wouldn't that just be such a bore."

Your eyes swam over his face a moment, Patrick Verona. And his dumb persistence. And his stupid handsome face-

God.

You let out a long sigh, picking around at your food. Eyes watching the swirl of your fork, you debate a few different things to say. Finally, after a few spare seconds, you made up your mind.

"Yeah," you hum, flickering your eyes up to his, "-it would."

Patrick grinned, big and bright and twinkly (you felt your heart skip a beat in your chest). His eyes, the deep brown that if you weren't careful you could stare at for way too long, were soft but still sort of happy, eager. Definitely eager.

And maybe, just maybe, you could get used to-

"I told you I could work on the 'stranger' thing," he suddenly said, smirking, "-You never should've doubted me."

"What?" You raised an eyebrow, confused.

"You said-" Patrick explained, "-you don't give your name out to strangers. And I said I could work on that part-"

You level a look at him.

"-And look, I did," he continued, before adding with a smirk, "-I have successfully escaped the cavernous barrier, deeper than the ocean I'd say, that walls you off from any poor soul who wishes to know you-"

"You're really pushing it, Verona," you chime back, fiery (but not quite all the way).

"What?" He raised his eyebrows, like he said nothing at all to warrant the reaction, "-You can't tell me that it's not like pulling teeth getting to know you. Or trying to anyway-"

You press your lips onto a flat line, "Wow, you must be a sort of masochist, then?

He faltered for a second, before laughing a little, "Oh absolutely, I chase the high of you ignoring me for 2 hours straight every day."

You rolled your eyes, biting down a smile, "I despise you."

"Better that than indifferent," he responded with ease, "-I prefer you feeling something rather than nothing at all."

"Oh my god-"

It continued like that, a back and forth, as you finish eating your mediocre cafeteria lunch. The silence is sparse but not uncomfortable when Patrick isn't running his mouth, that is. It was nice. Insanely nice. You'd probably never had as much fun on this campus as you did with him, just in general, but...

"Same time Wednesday?" He poses with a cheeky grin, leaning onto one hand against the table -closer to you than before.

You felt something warm swirl into your stomach, as your eyes flickered over his face. He was still smiling, like he wasn't able to stop when he was here with you. And something in you never wanted to see it go away anyway.

So, with a slight head tilt and a brighter grin than what you'd let slip past all day, you repeated.

"Same time Wednesday."

[ragnarockz]

AO3 Works

On Hands and Knees (Agatha Harkness/F!OC) A shared, comfortable silence opens the floodgates, which allows Agatha to make the next move in her growing romantic relationship with Sam.

Depression & Obsession (Agatha Harkness/F!OC) It's hard to give yourself grace when you feel like the worst person in the world. Agatha dealing with her internal struggle of wanting to be loved yet feeling her and Sam's relationship crosses between obsession caused by her guilt, sadness and, grief.

The Raw You (Agatha Harkness/F!OC) A raw and intimate moment between Agatha and Sam.

Liquid Poison (Agatha Harkness/F!OC) Sam stakes out the infamous nosy neighbor Agnes to let her know she's onto her but, is she aware that Agnes knows how to play that game, too?

Oh, So Familiar (Agatha Harkness/Rio Vidal) Agatha finds Rio in everything and Rio, cannot help but to find Agatha everywhere she goes.

Swallow The Hook (Agnes O'Connor/Agent Vidal) Agent Vidal shows up at Detective Agnes O'Connor's door; there's a spell that needs to be broken and Agent Vidal has the magic touch to break Agnes out of it.

Dagger: An Invitation (Agnes O'Connor/Agent Vidal) Detective Agnes O'Connor must work with Agent Vidal on a stake out for their prime suspect in Agnes' case. Agent Vidal doesn't necessarily see the importance of the stake out; there's more important things to focus on when you're alone in a car in the middle of the night with Detective O'Connor.

A Feral Pet (Agnes O'Connor/Agent Vidal) Agent Vidal and Agnes O'Connor are playing a little game; can a feral pet become tamed to pleasure?

Watch Me, See Me (Agnes O'Connor/Agent Vidal) Agnes O'Connor is working late and Agent Vidal decides to pop in for a late-night visit. Good thing no one else works overtime at the Westview Police Station.

I Drink of My Sisters (Agatha Harkness/F!OCs/Rio Vidal) May 3, 1996 and it's opening night of The Craft in theaters. Agatha takes her group of young witches to see it; her treat. She has a surprise for them right after to keep their spirits up, a promise and a chance for them to walk the Road.

Five Star (Agnes O'Connor/Agent Vidal) Agent Vidal has asked Detective Agnes O'Connor out for a nice date at an upscale restaurant. Detective Agnes O'Connor feels like a fish out of water. Agent Vidal, smooths out Agnes' uncertainties.

Taking It (Agnes O'Connor/Agent Vidal) Detective Agnes O'Connor promised Agent Vidal they would spend more time together after working hours; even if it meant they were a phone-call apart.

A Promise Kept (Agnes O'Connor/Agent Vidal) A grand crescendo of the growing relationship between Detective Agnes O'Connor and Agent Vidal. A promise is a promise and Agent Vidal is showing Agnes that she is keeping it.

Ripple Effect (Agnes O'Connor/Agent Vidal) A direct follow up to A Promise Kept; Agent Vidal recalls the moments in between her and Agnes' night together and a colossal shift between them.

The Good Detective (Agnes O'Connor/Agent Vidal) Using the prompt: "Be good for me and I'll untie you", Agent Vidal wants to see just how far she can push Detective Agnes O'Connor while being tied up like a present for her own use.

Off The Record (Agnes O'Connor/Agent Vidal) Using the prompt: “You used to hate me and now you can't keep your eyes off of me,” Agent Vidal and Detective Agnes O'Connor are granted access to Westview's Public Library after-hours to follow a lead in the case. Agnes comes clean about their power dynamic thus far.

Friday Night (Agnes O'Connor/Agent Vidal) Agent Vidal and Detective Agnes O'Connor go out drinking on a Friday night. Drinks and dancing catch up to these two; making them unable to keep their hands off of one another 🥃💜💚

[dragcnbreak]

AHHH THE AGE REGRESSION ONES R SO CUTE I NEED MORE!!!!! maybe one where reader is having like a breakdown/ptsd flashback which results in them regressing involuntarily and mike comforts them? could be headcanons or a fic idrc :3

IM SO GLAD PEOPLE GET THE CG MIKE VISION… here is my attempt at writing something along those lines!!! I hope u enjoy nonnie <3

◞♡࿐

The Schmidt household was practically a second home to you. You crashed on the couch more often than not and even had a drawer full of your things in Mike’s room for easy access. Your living situation was less than ideal and you felt more comfortable with Mike and Abby than anyone else so it just worked out.

That’s how you found yourself outside their door one morning, knowing it would be just Mike at the house as Abby had already left for school. You used your key and offered a shaky smile to the sleepy man on the couch. “Hey.” He says at first, taking a few seconds to look up at you. When he finally does, his eyes widen at the tears running down your cheeks and he rushes towards you.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Mike asks, using his thumb to wipe under your eyes. You don’t answer but instead, you start to sob loudly. He’s definitely awake now, all his attention on you. He helps you the best he can to the couch so you can sit down. The second he sits down with you, you fling yourself into his arms and continue your breakdown.

Mike is quick to hold you, rubbing your back softly and whispering soothing things like “it’ll be okay” and “I’ve got you”. It helps more than he knows and the both of you sit there for what seems like hours.

When you begin to quiet down, you detach yourself from him and rub at your eyes. “Are you feeling any better?” Mike asks you and you nod lazily, a sudden tiredness washing over you. “T’ank you, Mikey.” The slurring and the nickname alerts Mike to the fact that sometime during your crying session, you slipped into littlespace.

You didn’t age regress too often, specifically around Abby. But Mike was always more than happy to take care of you when you did, especially when you were sad. “Of course, baby,” he uses his favorite nickname for you when you’re in that headspace, “how about we get you something to eat and drink and then you go take a nap?” He continues.

You nod again, “m’kay.” The idea of eating doesn’t sound too bad and you know you need to stay hydrated, even more so after crying. Mike grabs the television remote and turns on Abby’s favorite channel with all the cartoons. He gives you a kiss on your forehead and then hurries to the kitchen.

He and Abby had just had breakfast so he heats up the remaining pancakes and bacon, periodically checking on you. He slathers the pancakes with butter like he knows you like it and also cuts them up. Mike then delivers them to you on a plate.

You lighten up a bit at the food, starting to dig in as he goes to get you a glass of water. He comes back and sets it on the table in front of you. Before too long, you’ve finished your food and water and are back rubbing your eyes tiredly again.

“How about that nap?” Mike offers with a knowing smile. You nod and make grabby hands, indicating you want to be picked up. The man isn’t the most built but he works out enough to easily pick you up, knowing how much you like it when he does. You wrap your arms around his neck while he holds your thighs not too tight.

In a few seconds, you’re in Mike’s room and he deposits you carefully on his bed. He tucks you in so you’re nice and safe and comfortable. He’s about to turn away when you stop him. “Can we cuddle, please?” You ask and he already knows he’s not going to say no. He hums and slips into the bed, fortunately already in comfortable wear.

In the bed, you turn to face the wall opposite the door and Mike catches on, wrapping you up in his arms. Before he knows it, you and him fall asleep even with the sun peeking through the blinds at you both.

◞♡࿐

this was kinda therapeutic to write because ive been going through a tough time myself :( tysm for the request <3

[nuttersincorporated]

After the Leave Together Ending

The Princess and the Protagonist have left. However, the Long Quiet and the Shifting Mound remain. Of course they do, only a small part of them broke free and left the Cabin together. The Protagonist didn’t kill the Shifting Mound and they left the Hero and the Contrarian behind when they departed.

The Hero was right, the other voices didn’t take long to turn up. The Princesses came too. Some we know from the game and others are new.

At the heart of the Cabin sit the Long Quiet and the Shifting Mound. Look at them one way and you’ll see two separate beings, side by side. Look at them another way and you’ll see them overlap and melded together. No matter how you look, you’ll see that they love each other.

Sometimes, a bit of the Long Quiet or the Shifting Mound will brake away and become their own person. This does not diminish the Long Quiet or the Shifting Mound in any way. If you take something from infinity, you still have infinity left.  Some of those people choose to re-enter the whole, other stay separate.

The Smitten and the Damsel are never far from each other but they do have other friends. The Smitten writes epic poems of courtly love, all dedicated to his beloved. The Damsel sings and paints beautiful pictures. If you ask her, she will paint you and show you what you look like (there are no mirrors in the Cabin).

The Stubborn and the Adversary fight and fight and fight. They’ll stop to chat with the others if anyone wants to talk though. It’s a weird relationship. It would be horribly unhealthy for anyone else but it works for them.

The Nightmare gets a bit of a wide berth from most the others but she is loved too. Sometimes, she rejoins the Shifting Mound other times, she hangs out with one of the newer Voices. He’s called the Phobophilia (lover of fear) and he loves her dark creativity.

The Cold is learning to feel again, the Paranoid is learning to trust and the Hunted is learning how to feel safe.

The Cabin is no longer a prison; it is a heart, a home and a world. It grows and changes to fit the needs of those who live within it. They can leave if they want to but most choose to stay.

If they do leave, it’s almost always a Princess and a Voice together. The only expectation was the Contrarian. The Contrarian left alone; they were also the only one who came back.

The Hero and the Thorn are thinking about leaving together. They’ve been in the Cabin a long time. Hero and Thorn are friends with everyone. They’ve helped make this Cabin a home for them all. However, any of them can do that if they want.

It might be time for a new adventure, outside of themselves and where they aren’t in control of their whole world. Hero and Thorn haven’t decided yet.

There is Cabin in the Woods. The Cabin is a heart and the Woods are a body. They are the Shifting Mound and the Long Quiet. They are one being, they are two beings and they are many beings all at the same time.

This is a love story.

[stardustvanfleet]

Backstage Baby (Jake Kiszka x Groupie!Reader)

SMUT. 18+ ONLY! MDNI!!!!!

PAIRING: Jake Kiszka x F!Reader

WORDS: 4k

WARNINGS: Dom!Jake. BASICALLY PWP. rough unprotected sex, edging, daddy kink, light choking (blink and you’ll miss it), mix of praise and degradation, nicknames (baby, princess, good girl, slut), my obsession with jake’s silver medallion, ending with flirtatious fluffy aftercare.

A/N: i’ve been writing band rpf for years, but this is my first gvf fic! ever since seeing them in boston on 9/15, i have literally been walking around in a daze, daydreaming about going backstage with jake……. and this is the result lmfao. title inspired by B-Side Baby by Adam Ant. i’m always looking for more gvf friends to discuss ideas with….. and also just cry and lose my mind with LMAO. anyway— i hope you enjoy! XO, li

••••••••••••••••••••

No matter how many times you saw Jake up there, he still made you breathless.

That furrowed concentration on his brow as his expert fingers flew across the strings… his hair falling across his shoulders… the way he would rock and grind against his guitar, glowing under the lights as sweat dripped down his forehead, his chest bare and slick from perspiration…

You didn’t really ever plan on becoming a groupie. The effect that Jake had on you had been intense enough long before you started following Greta Van Fleet around the country, before you’d even once thought you’d ever be in a room with him smaller than a stadium. But you hadn’t expected anything like the way things had actually gone. They had always said real life was stranger than fiction, but you had never thought its twists and turns could be this earth-shattering.

It had started with the eye contact. The first few times it happened, you couldn’t be sure if you were imagining things, your head perhaps fuzzy from the thrill of numerous front-row nights in a row… but when Jake crouched down and leaned towards you mid-solo, his eyes meeting yours with a jolt of electricity, a wicked smirk on his face, you realized with a heart-stopping shudder that no, you hadn’t been imagining his eyes on you.

Those looks would intensify as the tour continued. He’d always somehow find you in the front row, letting his cool and confident gaze rest on you as he played, just long enough to leave you squeezing your thighs together involuntarily. One night, you had been approached by a stagehand, who simply passed you a note with directions to an afterparty, and even though the note had no signature, something deep down told you exactly who it had been from.

That was your first night with Jake, and you had left the next morning with aching legs that felt like jelly. Since then, every night had been fucking cinematic.

Tonight was no exception. It had been damn near impossible to take your eyes off of Jake before you’d even had any opportunity to speak to him, but now, knowing exactly what he was able to do to your body, how fucking incredible he could make you feel… seeing him like that onstage made you positively throb throughout the show, taking all of your energy just to keep your composure.

As the concert winded down, you slipped out of the pit up front, making your way to the backstage entrance. The security guards, who recognized you by now— still an odd feeling — let you in. You headed towards where you now knew the band would be coming down once they left the stage, your heart already pounding with anticipation, heat already beginning to pool between your thighs. You took a deep breath, tugging on the hem of your top, which you had intentionally chosen due to its short length: you loved the way it highlighted the curves of your waist and hips, and hoped Jake would too.

And, as always, once they emerged, it seemed as though everything was happening at once– pulling out earpieces, handing off instruments and passing equipment along – but your eyes were only on Jake, and, you realized with a shudder that wracked your entire body, his were on you.

Once his guitar had been handed off, Jake wasted no time in heading right towards you, grabbing your wrist, and leading you down the hall. He didn’t need to say anything; you knew exactly where he was taking you, and you instantly felt a wave of overwhelming desire wash over your every inch. It was truly absurd how little he had to do to turn you on.

//

He pulled you into his dressing room, and immediately pushed your back up against the closing door. Jake’s large hands pinned your shoulders against it, a soft clicking sound occurring as the door locked automatically. His lips collided sloppily with yours, kissing you with a hunger that sent your head spinning, sparks of heat igniting deep within your core.

When he finally pulled back, grazing your bottom lip with his teeth as he did so, a shiver went down your spine, and it took you far longer than intended to regain composure and open your eyes. When you did, his heavy-lidded dark eyes were on you, pupils blown wide with desire. The dominance behind his expression was enough to cause an involuntary whimper to escape you, the sound of which brought out a smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“So needy today… What a dirty girl,” he said, his tone dripping with authority, making your knees immediately weaken. His eyes never left yours as he continued teasing, knowing by now what it did to you. He leaned in, making sure you got his next few words right in your ear. “You wanna get fucked tonight? Hm?” His voice was low and seductive, leaving one hand on your shoulder to keep you pinned to the wall, while his other one stroked first down your arm, then back up, your skin lighting up under his touch. As his body pressed up against yours, you could feel him, rock-hard and throbbing against your thigh, the sensation almost overwhelming as you found yourself nodding your head as hard as you could, already difficult to find the words.

That wasn’t enough, though, not for Jake. The hand that had been stroking up and down your bare arms moved abruptly to your jaw, holding it firmly in place so his gaze was locked on yours. “I asked you a question, princess.” Your lower lip trembled desperately as Jake tilted his head ever so slightly, his expression and tone just the right amount of patronizing as his hips began to roll at a slow but steady pace against you, breathing out, “You want this cock?”

“Yes, fuck,” you managed, already feeling lightheaded at just his words and close proximity.

“There you go,” he chuckled condescendingly at the sound of you using your words for the first time. He continued to rock up against your thigh, letting the hand on your jaw slide to your throat, but not lingering there too long, not giving you yet what he knew you wanted— just staying long enough to drag his long fingers down the sensitive skin of your neck, as if examining every inch of you. What a fucking tease.

“Jake, please,” you found yourself begging, taking your free hand and gripping the lapel of his black jacket— all he was wearing over his tanned, sweaty torso, which had been making your head spin all night— “I’m so fucking hot for you. So fucking wet for you. I want you so bad, please…”

The sound of your desperation made a low sound somewhere between a chuckle and a growl rumble in Jake’s throat, and if your panties weren’t soaked through already, that alone would have been enough to get you there.

Your begging had satisfied him, for now. Jake finally released his grip, freeing you from your position pinned up against the door, only to lead you over to the white leather couch in the corner of the room. Before having you sit, however, there were two things that needed to be done. First of all, he shrugged his black jacket off from his shoulders, throwing it to the floor behind him, leaving him standing before you in nothing but those sinfully tight pants and that silver necklace that drove you wild. Through your lightheadedness, you could tell how horny he was, too— his pants left almost nothing to the imagination, and the sight of the achingly large bulge straining against the tight black fabric was making your head swim, to say nothing of the heat between your thighs.

That was when he lowered himself just enough that his lips were in line with the top button of your jeans, and you felt all breath leave your body as he looked wickedly up at you. Going slowly enough to make you squirm, but not so slowly that you’d protest, Jake unzipped your bell bottoms. His gaze never left yours as he pulled them down your legs, revealing inch after inch of your skin to him, his tongue flicking out across his own bottom lip hungrily as he watched himself undress you— this gorgeous present, all his to unwrap.

As you had anticipated, your light pink panties were so soaked they had been rendered essentially useless as a means of covering you up, and the feeling of Jake’s eyes devouring the sight of your pussy through them were only making you wetter.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathed out, his eyes glancing up to meet yours for a moment before looking right back down at the burning heat between your legs. After a second or two of him just looking intently— as if committing the sight to memory— he spoke, saying, “Drives me fucking crazy…” as one of his hands found its way to the inside of your calf, stroking slowly up, further and further, “...how fucking wet you get for me, before I’ve even touched you. Goddamn.”

“Jake, please,” you begged again, your voice cracking a bit as you spread your legs to give him easier access to your inner thigh, his long fingers stroking and massaging you only centimeters from where you needed his touch the most. “I need your fingers… I need them… please.”

Your final “please” had such an undertone of neediness, desperation, it must’ve been exactly what Jake had been looking for-– and immediately, your eyes rolled back into your head as his long middle finger began to stroke deliciously up and down your clothed slit. He started at your entrance to gather your wetness through your panties, then slid upwards and flattened his fingertip out, letting the pad of the digit trace tight circles over your throbbing clit. Immediately upon the contact with your sensitive bundle of nerves, you cried out, clapping a hand over your own mouth as you, in a cloud of arousal, watched Jake play with your pussy from his position between your legs, his eyes never leaving yours as he kept up his steady, rhythmic circular motions.

Time seemed to stop for what could have been seconds or minutes as Jake massaged your clit and teased your entrance through your dripping panties, and it was only when your eyes were watering and whimpers were falling from your lips that he pulled his hand back, the loss of contact making you let out an involuntary whine.

But once his fingers hooked around the waistband of your panties, you realized he wasn’t teasing any longer— he was escalating. The thought made you shudder as he tugged the soaked scrap of fabric down your legs, Jake’s face flushed with heat, that gorgeous hair of his falling across his shoulders and sticking to his forehead.

Once your panties were off, he tossed them to the side, standing up and leaving you trembling on the leather couch as his hands moved down to his own waistband, his eyes meeting yours and his tongue once again swiping across his bottom lip hungrily. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him as he moved to pull his pants down— which, at this point, were pornographically tight— and, Jesus Christ, he looked angelic as they came off. His skin was glowing with sweat, and warm light from the dressing room’s lamps was glinting off the silver medallion around his neck. When he took his cock out, you let out yet another involuntary whimper.

Hard and thick, the tip already glistening with his arousal, just the sight of it made your mouth water. He wrapped his hand around his length, beginning to pump it up and down just slightly as he lowered himself onto the couch next to you, watching with blown-out pupils as you pulled your crop top over your head, revealing to Jake that you hadn’t worn a bra underneath it, your tits bouncing free. The realization made him growl under his breath between strokes of his cock, groaning, “Fuck… you do that for me?” Your nod made him groan all over again, rasping out, “Mmmm… you’re such a dirty girl… C’mere.”

The simple command was all you needed, giving into your desire and practically pushing yourself against his slick, toned body. The feeling of his hot skin against yours alone made you moan out loud as Jake’s hands found your hips, pulling you into his lap. Once you were straddling him, you were so close to his cock that you felt entirely lightheaded, knowing that if you rocked forward, your clit would get the most incredible friction rubbing up against his length…

But you didn’t have to do anything yourself. Before you could organize your thoughts, Jake was kissing you again, messy and filthy, his tongue and teeth everywhere, his mouth moving sloppily from your lips to your neck and back again, and suddenly you hadn’t any thoughts left at all beyond Jake, his hands, his body, and the feeling of his cold silver medallion pressing up against the skin of your breasts— grazing your nipple, making you gasp into his mouth, eliciting a dark chuckle form the man beneath you.

One of his hands took yours and guided it to his cock, and when your fingers wrapped around the velvety skin of his length the both of you shuddered in unison. Jake’s mouth immediately dropped open from the pleasure, murmuring another, “Fuck, princess,” his other hand slipping between your legs to start toying with your clit again. It didn’t take long for your legs to start to tremble. You were aching for him to fill you up.

You both worked each other like this for a minute or two, eyes growing more half-lidded and cheeks flushing ever pinker as you built up to the main event. Finally, after what seemed an achingly long time, Jake finally spoke, words coming in between his heavy panting that was making your whole body tremble.

“You want it, baby? You want this cock right now? You want Daddy to fuck you like the cute little slut you are?”

You moaned so desperately you hardly recognized your own voice. He always knew exactly when to bring things up a notch, and how. You were nodding your head before you could even speak, finally finding the words to beg, “Please, Daddy. I need it, I need your cock,” staring at him with lust-blown doe eyes.

Jake let out a true growl this time, and sat back further, spreading his legs wide, his cock thick and hard and waiting, your wetness all over his thigh from where you had been straddling him. When he spoke again, his voice was low and authoritative. “Then sit on this fucking dick.”

The sound that left your lips in response to his words was something beyond desperation. With trembling thighs, you positioned yourself over Jake as he gave his cock another couple strokes, lining himself up at your entrance, and saying lowly, hotly, “Look at me.”

You obliged without even having to think, and with your eyes on each other, taking in every little change in expression, you started lowering yourself onto him. Slowly but surely, you felt every single inch of his hard cock stretching you out, and as you took all of him as deep as possible, you made sure to keep your eyes right on his as your mouth fell open. He loved to see what he was doing to you.

He only waited a moment, giving you enough time to grab onto his shoulders for leverage, but not enough time to catch your breath, before his hands found your hips. His fingernails dug into your skin, something sexy, dangerous, and dark in his eyes that you instantly recognized. Oh. There would be no working slowly into things tonight. Tonight, Jake was entirely in control.

Roughly, quickly, he lifted you by the hips, before pushing you right back down onto his cock, making you cry out in ecstasy. It was only a moment before he lifted you right back up again, then shoving you back down onto him, giving you no rest from the sudden and overwhelming pleasure. His sense of timing, perfected from years of playing guitar, was more obvious than ever as he started to build up a rhythm that was dizzying in its relentless repetition. The way he was filling you up felt so fucking good, and it only intensified when Jake began to fuck up into you while pressing you down onto him, getting deeper and deeper with every thrust. You couldn’t hold back anymore, starting to moan out his name as he fucked you.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Jake groaned out, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead onto his chest, “Such a good girl… taking my cock so fucking well. Goddamn. So fuckin’ filthy.”

“Fuck, fuck, thank you, Daddy,” you were moaning, broken sounds falling nonstop from your lips as Jake slammed his cock into you, but when your eyes threatened to roll back into your head, he once again took your jaw in his large hand, forcing your gaze to stay on his.

“I told you to keep your fucking eyes on me when I fuck you.”

You whimpered, biting your lip, Jake’s relentless pounding hitting you right where it felt the best, the angle at which he was fucking you giving him perfect access to your sweet spot.

“I’m sorry, Daddy, fuck, fuck, don’t stop!” you begged, the combination of his cock filling you up and that low, sexy voice of his right in your ear completely emptying your mind of any other thoughts besides how fucking good he was making you feel.

Jake was speeding up now, and it was getting harder and harder for you to keep your eyes on him with the pleasure building so intensely within you. You knew you were close, and his labored gasps and breathless growls made it clear that he wasn’t far behind.

“Fuck, baby… that perfect pussy… she’s gripping me so fuckin’ tight,” he was groaning against you, and you were nodding desperately and moaning out obscenities, tears forming in your eyes from the unyielding ecstasy. One of your arms was still around his shoulders, while the other had a white-knuckled grip on his silver necklace as you rolled your hips in time with his thrusts.

He must’ve been able to tell you were close by the way your thighs began to shake, the way your moans turned into desperate, tiny whimpers, because you didn’t even have to say a word before Jake sucked his pointer and middle fingers into his mouth, getting them nice and slick before lowering them to trace tight circles onto your clit.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It was all so much; so deliciously overstimulating— Jake’s cock deep in your pussy, his fingers working your clit just right, his dark eyes looking at you so intently that even the act of him simply watching you as you fell apart felt so fantastically filthy and sinful.

“Does my little slut wanna cum?” Jake growled through gritted teeth, still thrusting up into you as he managed one of those patronizing smirks that drove you wild, “Not yet. Not until I say so.”

You let out a desperate whine, whimpering weakly, “Jake— fuck, please, Daddy.” Every word took all of your focus and energy to stammer out, with Jake surrounding what felt like every inch of your body, from his cock pumping in and out of you, to his fingers on your clit, and the heat of his skin against yours.

“Be a good girl now,” he continued between grunts, fucking you deep and hard, his lust-blown eyes never once leaving yours, “I’m gonna count down. Then… and only then… you cum on my fucking cock.”

You managed to make the only sound you could— a whimper that sounded so pathetic and slutty you hardly recognized your own voice. Trying to find words now would be hopeless. It was all so much. It felt so fucking good. Tears began to spill from your eyes as Jake’s thick cock slammed against your g-spot over and over again, in perfect time with his calloused fingers relentlessly circling your clit.

He chuckled condescendingly. You could tell— he knew you were too fucked out to answer him.

“Here we go, princess… five…”

You were trembling, moments away from the edge, utilizing every bit of energy you had left to hold off the orgasm that threatened to overtake you any second.

“Four… three…”

You could barely breathe. Every sensation, every feeling, was layered on top of one other. The pressure on your clit. Jake’s eyes, watching you unravel. The feeling of his cock swelling inside of you as he pounded into your cunt. His other hand still gripping your hip for leverage, surely leaving bruises in the shape of his fingerprints.

“Two…”

He leaned right in, giving you a look so fucking intense and hungry that you felt yourself go lightheaded, that heat building, building… so close, so fucking close… he just had to say…

“One. Cum for me. Fucking cum.”

The moment the command left his lips, it was all over. The white-hot coil within you snapped, and your body was overtaken with bliss, shaking uncontrollably as you clenched down onto him, the feeling of your release all around him making Jake groan out a pornographic, “Oh, fuck.”

He kept up his pace as he fucked you and worked your clit through your orgasm, repeatedly biting his lower lip in concentration as he groaned out, “That’s it, baby, give it to me, soak my fucking cock.” The pleasure was dizzying, damn near overwhelming, and through your haze it was impossible to tell for just how long he helped prolong your climax while chasing his own.

With a delicious moan and a string of obscenities, Jake pulled out of your cunt just in time, thrusting into his hand and covering your stomach in his cum. Even through your post-orgasmic haze, the sight of him cumming all over you was so incredibly filthy you found yourself whimpering all over again, watching him through glazed-over eyes as he rode out his high.

When you both finally collapsed onto each other, panting, covered in sweat and cum, Jake groaned out a breathless, “Holy fuck,” before taking his hand and running it through your hair. There was a tenderness in his gaze and a softness in his tone as he asked, “Are you okay, baby?”

You nodded, slowly but surely coming back down to Earth. When you managed a dazed grin, he chuckled a little, smirking affectionately. He leaned in to press a kiss to your lips— this one far more gentle, but no less passionate. When Jake pulled back, he breathed out, “That was so fucking hot, baby… goddamn. You’re something else.”

You felt a blush creep up in your cheeks as he stroked your hair, then your back, his tender touches grounding you as you caught your breath against his chest. It was only after a good long while, once the stickiness on your stomachs became too much to bear, that he helped you to your feet, your thighs already feeling a familiar ache, knees still wobbling a bit. By now, you had found your words, and you thanked him, giggling shyly despite yourself.

He wrapped a plush towel around you, cleaning you up as best as he could, grabbing another towel for himself. It was after this, though, that he spoke.

“Come back to the hotel with me tonight.”

His words took you by surprise. Yes, you’d been to his hotel rooms before— but generally, you’d head there in order to fuck, not after it already had taken place. He must’ve been able to read your expression, because he continued, “I wanna take care of you, baby. It’s the least I can do… there’s a jacuzzi, we can get a nice bath going for you… and there’s a king-sized bed…”

And… you were blushing again. Of course.

You chewed on your bottom lip with nervous excitement, your heart already starting to beat faster. “Jake… that sounds perfect.” He smiled at you, looking utterly radiant, and you felt butterflies in your stomach all over again as he put his arm around you. “C’mon, gorgeous… let’s get you some of my clothes to put on. I’ve got a sweatshirt in here somewhere…”

As you melted into his touch, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. The night was only just beginning.

••••••••••••••••••••

A/N: thank you so so much for reading!! i would absolutely love to hear your thoughts either in the notes or through tumblr DMs. my ask box is always open for filthy thoughts, and i’m always looking for more gvf friends to discuss with 🥰 i’m also starting a taglist for any new fics i post, so be sure to let me know if you want to be added! XO, li

[ghostieeez]

꒰ა Curiosity Killed the Kitty ໒꒱

✧.* Hey Girly Series: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

✧.* Content: Ghostface x fem!reader, 18+ minors DNI, fluff, smut, stalking, obsessive behavior, cuddling, kissing, soft!Ghostface, praise kink, body worship, hickeys, biting, blood kink, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism

✧.*‎ Summary: You beg Ghostface to take you on one of his hunts and things get interesting when he finally says yes.

✧.*‎ Word Count: 5.8k | AO3 Link | Divider Cred

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ - ʙᴏᴅʏ ᴡᴏʀꜱʜɪᴘ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴜᴛᴜᴀʟ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴜʀʙᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴʏʙᴏᴅʏ? 👀 ʟᴏʟ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀ ꜱᴏꜰᴛ!ɢʜᴏꜱᴛɪᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ꜰᴇᴇʟꜱ ʀʟʟʏ ʙᴀᴅ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ꜱᴛᴀʙʙɪɴɢ ᴜ <33 ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ᴘᴏᴏᴋɪᴇꜱ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴍᴀᴋᴇꜱ ᴜᴘ ꜰᴏʀ ɪᴛ ;) ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴇᴀɢᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʜᴇʜᴇ ꜱᴏ ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ɪꜰ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ'ꜱ ᴛʏᴘᴏꜱ

You had been moping in bed all day long.

Dark, gray clouds stretched across the sky, and judging by the smell of rain in the air, it was about to start pouring any second. Just a small sliver of the sun peeked out from behind the clouds and sent dim light shining down throughout the streets.

It was just as gloomy outside as you felt inside; not only were you trapped at home, forced to get rest for your healing leg wound, but earlier that day you and Ghostface had actually gotten into a little argument.

A few weeks had passed since that night in the woods, when you confessed your feelings to him. Things had been good between the two of you... at least up until now. You rolled over onto your side and stared out the window, thinking about the fight.

It only happened a few hours prior, when the two of you were on the phone. Daily phone calls had become a new thing between you, and you loved it. You’d chat about anything and everything you could think of. You’d talk about your favorites, from colors to animals. You talked about childhood memories and movies and music. You’d even asked him questions about killing; What was your first kill like? How many people have you killed? Do you remember them all?

It didn��t matter what the topic was, you really enjoyed talking to him, especially the times when you answered the phone and realized he wasn't using the voice modulator.

When he called earlier, you answered giddily with a wide smile on your face, “Hiii!”

“Hey doll, ya miss me?” He said, his natural voice sounding enticing as ever.

You both chatted like usual, catching up, asking about each other's day, all the typical things you talked about. Everything was good until you decided to bring up something that had been on your mind recently.

“Hey I wanted to ask you a question...”

“Hmm?” He responded, interest piqued. “I’m listening.”

“Well you’ve told me so much about your past kills, which has been really cool to hear about, but... hearing is one thing, and seeing is another, so... What if you brought me with you one time? Y’know, on one of your hunts? Then I could see it in person-”

He cut you off, “Absolutely not.”

“What? Why not?!”

He chuckled at your reaction, “Sweets, I can hear you pouting through the phone.”

Part of you wanted to laugh because he was right, but instead, you persisted, “Please?”

He hesitated, “Where’s this coming from all of a sudden?”

“I guess I would say I’m just really curious... After all, killing is a big part of who you are, and I like getting to know you better. All aspects of you. Not just the superficial things.”

“I see,” was all he said.

“So what do you think? Will you let me come with?”

“I really don’t think it’s a good idea, doll,” he answered.

“I pinky promise I’ll be on my best behavior, I’ll listen to everything you say, I’ll do everything you tell me to. I won’t leave any evidence, I’ll-”

“I already told you no,” he sighed.

“And you still haven’t said why,” you pouted even harder. “You don’t trust me, do you?”

“It’s not like that-”

“After everything we’ve been through? You’ve stalked me, broken into my house, stabbed me–multiple times might I add! You’ve literally left your DNA inside of me, but did I go to the police and turn you in?” You waited for a response but he remained quiet, so you kept going. “You know everything about me. You know where I live, where I work, you know my daily schedule. Meanwhile, I don’t even know what your face looks like. I don’t even know your name.”

A few moments of silence passed.

He finally spoke, “Listen... I...”

But at that point, you didn’t want to listen. Your mood had already turned sour, and honestly, you just wanted to lay down for a while.

“Sorry but I gotta go, my head has really been hurting today so I’m just gonna get some rest. Forget I even brought it up. Talk to you later,” your tone was curt, but it wasn’t exactly like you were trying to hide your hurt feelings.

“Don’t-” he started to say but you were already hanging up.

Ever since then, you’d been tossing and turning in bed, staring out the window waiting for it to rain, and reliving the conversation over and over again inside your head. Your phone vibrated and you saw a text from Ghostface. It wasn’t the first one he had sent, though. You read through the stack of notifications on your screen, all from him.

10:44 Call me back, let’s talk about this.

10:47 Missed call from Ghostie 🖤

10:49 Don’t be like this. Talk to me.

10:54 Missed call from Ghostie 🖤

10:54 Why are you shutting me out?

11:23 Just let me explain. Please.

11:28 I have to get back to work soon. Talk to you when I can.

1:25 Heard this song and thought of you. View attachment.

3:01 Don’t forget to take your antibiotics.

Next was the most recent one.

4:56 You still upset with me, angel?

Your fingers started typing a response, only to backspace and erase it all.

Yes you were upset, but it was complicated. Ghostface’s lack of trust did hurt your feelings, but it was more than just that. You were also upset at yourself. You had known from the start that he’d be distant and secretive, that he’d keep you at arms length, afraid of you getting too close. If I knew from the start, why does it still hurt so bad? You thought.

A new text popped up.

4:58 You know I can see you typing, right?

You only had a second to read it before-

Incoming call from Ghostie 🖤

You answered it, voice quiet, “Hey.”

“Hey,” he said, and breathed a sigh of relief. “Glad you picked up. I missed hearing your voice.” You couldn’t help the blush that crept across your cheeks.

“What’s up, why’d you call?” You asked, trying to act nonchalant.

He said your name, his tone stern, but not harsh. “Do not ‘what’s up’ me. You’ve been ignoring me alllll dayyy.”

“It has not been all day!” You said, scoffing.

“So you do admit you’ve been ignoring me, though?”

Well, he got you there. “I... Maybe a little. ‘M sorry, it’s just- it’s...” You trailed it off, at a loss for words. It’s not like putting feelings into words was ever an easy thing.

Luckily, he spoke instead, “Listen, I’m almost off work. I have some things I need to attend to, but in a couple hours I’ll be free. Let me stop by and we can talk more in person.”

“Okay,” you agreed. “See you soon, then.” With that, you hung up. You rolled onto your back and tossed your phone to the side. Your eyes felt heavy and it wasn’t long before your lids fell shut and you were drifting to sleep.

-

When you woke, you heard the pitter patter of rain drizzling against your window. You blinked your eyes a few times, groggily, and realized your room was almost pitch black. You felt a hand rubbing gently at your shoulder, which must’ve been what woke you up.

“Ghostface?” You whispered. You could barely see him. His black robes blended seamlessly with the dark room. You could see his mask through the darkness, faintly. His hand left your shoulder and moved to pull at the string of your lamp. Light filled the room and illuminated his form crouched next to your bed. His hand was back on your shoulder, rubbing in circles. “Hey. Sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep for so long.”

“Don’t apologize, you should be getting your rest,” he said. You scooted over and made room for him. “Thanks doll, but I’m a little wet from the rain.”

“I don’t care,” you grabbed his arm and tugged it. “I just wanna be close to you.” 

He let you pull him up onto the bed and he laid beside you. You turned towards him and buried your face in his chest. His arm wrapped around you snugly and your bodies fit together in a way that felt so perfect.

“You’re always so cute when you’re sleepy and needy like this.”

It actually wasn’t the first time he’d told you that. He had been coming over a lot more frequently to check on you and clean your bandages, after all. Oftentimes he’d come when you were asleep, and well... he wasn’t necessarily wrong. You did have a habit of clinging to him whenever you woke.

“So warm,” you sighed happily and leaned your body against him.

“So, you ready to talk about our little fight from earlier?”

You bit your lip nervously. “Guess so.”

“Well first I just wanted to say that I can see where you’re coming from about me not trusting you. I know it seems that way, but it’s not true. I do trust you, things are just-” he paused. “Things are just complicated sometimes. I have to be really careful. That’s the nature of doing what I do. I won’t keep everything secret forever but... just promise you’ll be patient with me, okay?”

You nodded, “Okay, I promise.”

“Good,” you could practically hear the smile beneath his mask. “Now that we’ve got that cleared up, can I explain why I actually said no?” You answered with another nod. “Well for starters, it’s dangerous, and the last thing I want is you getting hurt... again.”

“Hey,” you said and leaned back so you could tilt your gaze up at him. “You don’t need to sound so guilty. I already told you my leg is fine.”

“Is it?” He pulled your blanket to the side, revealing your lower half to him. You had on a comfy pair of pajama shorts so your legs were on display. His gloved hand trailed the side of your thigh, his touch so light, then rubbed his thumb just below your bandages. “Looks like we gotta change these soon.”

You groaned. “Ugh, can we do it later? I’m too comfy right now.”

“Fine,” he said with a laugh. Then, “Back to what I was saying. Imagine if our victim fought back and did something horrible to you?” You noticed how he said our victim and you're not sure why but your heart started to beat faster. Our?

“Well then you’d protect me, wouldn’t you? My big, strong Ghostface,” you teased.

“Shut up,” he said, but he was smiling again, you could hear it. “I’m being serious here!”

“So am I! I’d feel safe being with you. You’d look out for me, right?”

“Of course I would, but you never know what could happen, doll. Like I said, it’s dangerous.”

“Okay, noted,” you replied. You knew he was right, plus it was really endearing how concerned he was for your well-being.

“And I’m sure you’re already aware, but it’s also really risky. Any trace of evidence could get both our asses caught. Imagine your face plastered across the front pages and every news channel raving about how they caught Ghostface’s accomplice. They’d throw you in jail just like that,” he snapped his fingers. “Life as you know it would be over in a second.”

“Then I’d just run away with you before they could catch me.”

He chuckled. “Good idea, but it’s easier said than done. You know how many times I’ve had to get a new name to live by? Shit’s exhausting.” 

“Really?” You replied, intrigued. You wondered if he would ever tell you his real name. “Sounds like it would suck.” 

“Yeah, it does. Listen...” he said, then your name was falling off his tongue, so satisfyingly. “I’m telling you all this because I want you to know the risks if you did ever come with me on a hunt.”

“I understand,” you said. “So when you said no, you were just looking out for me. I appreciate it.” His hand moved to caress your cheek. It was his silent way of saying you’re welcome.

You never expected that he could be such a softy, but him stabbing your leg had brought out a whole other side of him. He’d been so sweet the entire time you were healing so it was obvious he felt bad about what he did to you. And now this, how he was being all protective of you. Your tummy felt so bubbly and happy.

“So after some thought, let me answer your question again. Yes I would let you come with me, but it is a big decision. Plus, I was thinking maybe we should start small anyway. Starting right off the bat with a kill would be a lot for your first time.”

“Yeah...” You agreed. To be honest, you didn’t know if you were ready to watch someone die just yet. The thought sounded terrifying.

He continued, “How would you feel if we started off with just a night of stalking? I could teach you all the ropes and show you how the pros get it done.” His voice was dripping with the usual cockiness. 

“Pro? Pretty arrogant, aren’t you?” You asked playfully.

“What can I say, babe. I’m good at what I do.”

Right as you were about to reply, a yawn came from your mouth instead. “Mmm, I’m tired,” you said and pulled the blanket back over yourself.

“Hey! We still need to change your bandages,” he gripped the edge of the blanket, ready to pull it away again, until you looked up at him. He froze in place, too entranced by your soft doe eyes staring at him through fluttering lashes. You nuzzled your face against the soft blanket and hummed contently. You looked so adorable all cozied up in bed. “Fine, I guess we can change them later. It is pretty late so I should get going and let you rest up.”

“Okay,” you said.

“Tomorrow night, I’ll be stalking my next victim. You wanna tag along?” You nodded eagerly. “Okay, good. I’ll tell you more details in the morning but for now, just get some sleep.”

He turned the lamp back off and the room was full of darkness once again. You could barely see the outline of him reaching up and taking his mask off. He leaned down towards you, his face hovered right in front of yours and his breath fanned across your skin.

Before you knew it, he was closing the distance and his lips were pressed against yours. You closed your eyes out of habit and kissed him back. It didn’t last very long but it still had shivers cascading throughout your body.

After he pulled away, he placed a light kiss to your temple. You were glad it was dark because he definitely would’ve teased you for how much you were blushing. You just couldn’t help it, though. The kiss felt so gentle and intimate, and way different than the treatment you were used to from him. You really liked both sides of him.

“G’night, princess,” he said. “Sleep tight.”

“Night, Ghostface,” was all your tired self could muster.

He left the room and shut the door behind him, leaving only you and the peaceful sound of rain against your window. You yawned one more time before you splayed out across the bed and closed your eyes. Soon, you were dozing off and sleeping soundly through the night.

-

It was finally time.

Ghostface had already given you all the details earlier in the morning, including the victim’s address and a spot nearby where the two of you would meet up first. Now, it was late in the evening, and it was time to get going.

You even had the perfect attire for the occasion; the copycat Ghostface outfit you had bought to prank your ex Eddy with all those months ago. You shuddered at the thought of him. It had been so long since he even crossed your mind. Gross.

Once you arrived, you were surprised to see that it was an abandoned and decrepit old house on the very end of the street. You could see why Ghostface had picked it as your meeting spot, though. Any sane person would stay far away from a creepy ass place like this, especially so late at night.

You approached the house, still walking with a slight limp. You headed towards the back door just like Ghostface told you to do. Once you rounded the corner of the house you saw a wooden staircase leading up to the door. You climbed the steps, wincing at every loud creak they made. You reached out and twisted the knob. “It’ll be unlocked,” he had said.

You pushed it open, ducked under a cobweb hanging in the doorframe, and went in. It was somehow even creepier on the inside. Everything was falling apart and covered in dust. There wasn't much light to begin with, but wearing your Ghostface mask made it even worse.

You made your way through the house. “Ghostface?” You whispered. “Where are you?”

Suddenly he was popping out from behind and yelling “Boo!”

You let out a small shriek. “Ugh, you dick!” You said and smacked his shoulder playfully. “Don’t scare me like that! I’m already on edge.”

“Sorry doll, just had to,” he cooed, then looked you up and down. “But I have to say, I was not expecting the outfit. It brings back fond memories though.”

“Yeah, it does.” You blushed beneath the mask as you thought of that night. It was the first time you had met him, and you were so scared yet so turned on when he ate you out and fucked you in Eddy’s backyard.

He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him, distracting you from the past and bringing you back to the present. He lowered his head down and touched the forehead of his mask to yours.

“You ready?” He asked.

“Yes,” you answered, adrenaline buzzing.

“You nervous?”

You let out a quiet laugh. “Yes.”

“Don’t be.” He put a hand on the back of your neck and squeezed gently–his way of saying I’m here. “We’re only stalking tonight, remember? We’re just gonna lay low and observe.”

“Got it.”

“How’s your leg feeling?” His hand that was on your hip slid down to your thigh and stopped right above your wound. He rubbed his fingers against you, lightly.

You pulled away from his forehead and looked up at him. “I keep telling you it’s fine. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I know, I know. I just...” he trailed off.

“You just what?”

“Just gotta make sure your slow ass can keep up with me,” he teased. You had a feeling that wasn’t what he was originally going to say, but you didn’t press the subject. “C’mon, let’s do this!”

He led you out the door and in the direction of the victim’s house, which he said was just a couple streets away. On the walk there, he gave you some much needed tips on how to move through your surroundings more quietly. You practiced his techniques even though you knew you’d never quite master them like him. He really was an expert at moving stealthily. You two ducked behind cars and moved strategically between houses and fences. You made sure to stay out of sight from any possible onlookers.

Finally, you arrived. You crept around the back and snuck in through the gate as quiet as could be. 

“We could hide behind those bushes?” You suggested, pointing to some overgrown shrubs near the edge of the fence.

He nodded, so you both made your way over. It seemed to be a good spot; you could still see in through the victim’s window, but you also weren’t too close. It was inconspicuous enough and apparently Ghostface agreed.

“Nice suggestion, doll.”

“Now what?” You whispered in return.

“Now we watch,” he said.

So, you did. You looked into the window, hoping for something exciting, anything really. Yet all you saw was the victim in his living room watching TV. It was a man, maybe mid-forties, sitting on the couch and snacking on popcorn. As uneventful as it was, you kept watching him.

After what seemed like hours, you asked, “How long have we been doing this? And is it always this boring?”

He laughed. “It’s only been 10 minutes... but, yeah. You get used to it. Maybe we should get a closer look?”

Before you could respond he had already grabbed your hand and started leading you through the backyard until you were standing right next to the window. You had to admit, your heart was racing like crazy. You were so close to the victim–just right outside his house! What if he caught you? What if he called the police? What if-

Ghostface must’ve sensed your tension. “We should be fine, I don’t think he’ll hear us. Notice how loud the movie is?” You listened closely for a second and realized he was right. You could hear it playing even from outside the house.

Slowly, you leaned over and peeked in the window. Ghostface moved and stood behind you. He brought his mask next to your ear and said, “You’ve been doing such a good job tonight.”

“Pffft,” you scoffed. “I don’t know about that.” He moved his body even closer to yours until you felt a bulge pressing against your rear. “What’re you-”

“I mean it, babe. You're a natural. And seeing you in this outfit again–damn. I didn’t appreciate it enough the first time I saw you in it.” He rubbed himself against you in the slowest, softest motions. You couldn’t help the breath that caught in your throat. He put his hands on your hips and gently pulled you back against him, then continued, “You look fucking good.”

The praise had a warm blush spreading across your cheeks. “Ghostface...” You whined.

“Hm? What’s wrong?” He said, feigning innocence. “You keep watching our guy, kay? Don’t take your eyes off him.”

“O-okay,” you said, but his touch already had your legs trembling in excitement. Would you even be able to stay focused?

His hands stayed on your hips as he got down to the ground and knelt behind you. He started kneading your flesh, at times it was soft, other times he increased the pressure.

“Mm, feels good,” you said.

His hands moved to cup your ass next. “Looks good, too. Goddd you drive me so crazy,” he groaned. “Pull your robe up.”

You did as he said.

You grabbed the black material, hoisted it up, and pulled it over your waist. You bent over slightly and poked your ass out, flaunting the black, lacey thong you had on.

“Like this?" You asked, breathless from the anticipation alone.

“You dirty little girl,” he said and slipped his finger underneath the waistband of your thong. He pulled the material back, before releasing it and letting it slap against your skin. You twitched at the sensation. “Were you planning this?”

“Me? No way!” Now it was your turn to feign innocence.

His hands left you for a moment and you wondered why, until they were back, but this time with no gloves on. Just his skin on yours. He traced his fingers against the curve of your ass. His touch was light as a feather and you felt goosebumps starting to form.

“You have such a perfect body,” he praised, and the lack of filter on his voice made you realize he had also taken his mask off.

“Thank you,” your voice was quiet, almost shy. You felt him press a kiss to your hip, then a small nibble, which had you yelping.

“I mean it,” he said. “I could touch you for hours, just watching you wriggle and squirm.” He nibbled you again, a little harder that time. He kept going, heading in a line across your ass, each time getting more and more rough. “Plus the sounds you make–don’t even get me started.”

“W-what about them?” You asked.

“They’re so addicting.” To prove his point, he took your flesh into his mouth and sucked, leaving a bright red hickey on your ass.

“Aahh,” you moaned, making sure you weren’t being too loud. After all, you were right outside the window of your victim, who luckily was still glued to the television screen.

“Mmm, see what I mean? I love how you react to my touch. Always so sensitive, aren’t you? It’s so hot.” He moved his lips to your other cheek and left a couple more hickeys, which elicited even more needy sounds to come from you. It was like electricity was bubbling on the surface of your skin every time you felt his lips on you.

While he went at it, his fingers moved down to your legs, tickling you as they slid against the back of your thighs. Your eyes lolled as he began to massage them tenderly.

“I've always had a thing for your thighs. I couldn’t stop thinking about it the first time I ate you out.” His thumbs swiped along the crease of your ass and the pressure felt so amazing. “I love watching them twitch when you cum, too. And I love how they look when they’re covered in hickeys and bruises,” he moaned. Just as he said it, he put his mouth over your thigh and sucked your skin between his teeth, leaving yet another mark on you. His way of saying mine.

You really felt like you were going feral. His words, his touch, the thrill of being caught; all of it had scorching heat pooling between your legs.

He noticed it too, “Baby, you’re soaking.” To emphasize his statement, his hand slid between your legs and his fingers made contact with your cloth-covered clit for the first time of the night. He rubbed his fingers back and forth, so agonizingly slow and gentle. You instantly felt hazy with lust and you couldn’t help but jolt at his touch. Your body was just too caught up in the pleasure of everything. “So wet, just from this?” He teased.

“Can’t help it,” you whined. “You feel so good.”

His fingers brushed your clit one more time before they found their way back to your thighs, as did his mouth, which continued to kiss, nip, and nibble all over. The more time went on, the sloppier his mouth became.

Eventually, he was placing open mouthed kisses all across your lower half. His saliva was dripping down your body as he opened wide and sank his teeth into you. The action left deep teeth marks on you and caused small droplets of blood to slowly seep from your skin.

“M-more, please,” you whimpered. You realized that this was the absolute roughest he had been with you out of the entire past month. The whole time your leg had been healing, he’d been extra careful with you. Not that you disliked his soft side, but damn, you really missed seeing his aggressive side. You added, “Want it harder, ahh- need it so bad.”

He obliged the request and bit down hard on your thigh. You instantly felt blood trickling from it, which he collected on his tongue and licked up greedily. You hadn’t even noticed how your legs were rubbing together, trying to relieve the pent up frustration and dying for his attention to be back on your clit any second now.

He groaned, voice deep and hoarse, “Fuck, you look so beautiful like this. My pretty little baby.” His tongue twirled along your skin and gathered more blood on the tip of it. His hands gripped your ass tightly and squeezed.

“W-wait!” You said. “The movie just ended.” You both froze. You watched closely, waiting to see what he’d do next, then he stood from the couch and went over to a desk in the corner of the room. He pulled out some files from the drawer. “It looks like he’s doing some work at his desk now.”

“That means we’ve got to be more quiet now, doll. Think you can manage?”

Could you? You weren’t totally sure. With Ghostface’s hypnotic touch you knew it’d be hard to keep your voice down. “Maybe?”

“I’ve got an idea, then.”

“Hm?”

He stood from his knees and positioned himself directly behind you, just like before, only this time, he lifted his robes and undid his pants. Next thing you knew, you felt his hardened cock rubbing against your ass, so warm and so big. He hooked his fingers into the straps of your thong and pulled it down your legs until it was fully off of you.

His lips were next to your ear again and he whispered, “I want to watch you touch yourself. C’mon, princess, be a good girl for me and let me see you come undone.”

You bit your lip and did as he said. You put your fingers on your clit and realized just how neglected it had felt this whole time. He had only touched it momentarily so now that your full attention was on it, you were left gasping in ecstasy. You started rubbing in small circular motions. Meanwhile, Ghostface looked down over your shoulder and watched your fingers work.

“Just like that, baby. That’s right. Touch that pretty pussy for me,” he said, voice low, before he wrapped his hand around his cock and started pumping in tandem with you. The slick noises it made was downright mesmerizing.

Honestly, everything felt exhilarating. Here you were, the two of you touching yourselves in some random dude’s backyard, with the looming risk of getting caught at any second. It felt so wrong and dirty, which somehow made it all the more fun. Adrenaline ran through your veins and it felt like your heart might thump out of your chest any second. Your hand faltered as you got distracted listening to Ghostface’s ragged breathing.

“Hey,” his free hand grabbed your chin forcefully, and snapped you back to reality. “I didn’t say to stop, did I?”

“Sorry,” you whined, and your fingers resumed their motions. His hand moved off your chin and went under your hood to grab a fistful of your hair. Quiet moans and mewls fell from your lips.

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned into your ear. “Lemme hear those delicious sounds.”

“We're supposed to stay quiet,” you reminded him.

“Fuck it, I don’t care if we get caught. I need to hear you.” His words had you dripping wet and smiling widely, but you knew he didn’t really mean that. No matter what, you could not get caught. You could tell his pace increased as the loud sounds of his flesh slapping grew faster and more frantic. “Please,” he added.

God, hearing that word come from him always turned you so weak.

You yanked off your mask and now with nothing to muffle your voice, the air was suddenly filled with desperate, needy whines coming from you. Your fingers moved with newfound energy and worked fervently against your clit, matching his rhythm, as you chased release. You were so close.

His hand covered your eyes and he turned your face towards him. You felt his lips on yours. The taste of your blood was still fresh on his tongue and you could feel your orgasm building so wonderfully. Any second now and you’d be sent over the edge.

He swiped his tongue along yours as he let out his own desperate moans directly into your mouth. All it took was a few more strokes of his dick and Ghostface was releasing hot spurts of cum onto your ass. He bit down on your bottom lip as he came, and that was the final push you needed to reach complete bliss.

Your body quaked, legs shook, and breath quivered as you felt your orgasm crash over you. While your fingers started to slow, Ghostface pulled away from your lips and uncovered your face. You could hear him letting out quiet whimpers and praise from behind you.

“That was amazing,” he whispered. “Fuckkk.”

He took hold of your wrist and brought your fingers to his mouth. His tongue darted out and lapped at your juices. You wished so badly that you could turn and watch him suck and slurp you clean because you knew the sight would be fucking hot. Instead, your head hung low as you tried to catch your breath.

Next thing you knew, the outdoor light flickered on and you heard the back door opening.

“Hey!” A voice shouted.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck–

Both of you scrambled to put your masks back on and were moving as fast as you could to grab your thong and his gloves off the ground and get the hell out of there. It didn’t matter how weak your legs felt, how much cum and blood was dripping down them, or even how winded you were at the moment; that all disappeared as your adrenaline kicked in and had you fleeing the scene with impressive speed.

“That’s right, you better run!” He called after you. “And stay the hell out of my yard!”

You and Ghostface kept running until you were a few streets away. Once you felt safe enough, you slowed down and took in deep breaths of air. Your lungs felt like they were on fire.

“Holy shit, that was scary,” you said.

“More like exciting,” he replied, and you couldn’t argue there. “So what do you think of your very first time stalking someone?”

Your mind flashed back to everything that had just happened and you smiled cheekily, “Gotta say, I can’t wait to do it again sometime.”

“Glad we’re on the same page then,” he said, his tone smug as ever. He grabbed your hand and started tugging you along with him. “Now let’s get you home and into bed.”

Yet to you, it felt like the night had barely begun. The last thing you wanted was to go to bed. You were thinking of a million more ways to jump his bones, then you realized, you could always just try asking?

“What if we continue what we started once we get to my house? We’ll be on the comfy bed, with no need to worry about being loud, just you and me-”

“Fuck yes,” he replied eagerly, not even needing a reason to be convinced. “I thought you would never ask.”

Looks like your fun for the night was only just getting started.

[lullaebies]

No clue if your still taking asks for Aegon III and Jaehaera but what about one where they were secretly courting (Aegon giving Jaehaera gifts like jewels, books she likes and maybe telling her a few stories or singing songs?) they do a similar thing to Daemon and Rhaenyra in the brothel (maybe they’re in a tavern or something?). Maybe Aegon II or Daemon catch them, regardless of how they are caught both are confront and Aegon III ends up asking Aegon II for Jaehaera’s hand in marriage then and there?

Maybe Aegon II’s like: “You ruined my daughter who else will wed her now?”

Meanwhile Aegon III: “Wed her to me. I’ll take her as she is”

Maybe it causes and uproar with the Blacks and Greens both protesting against it while Alicent, Daemon and Rhaenyra hear this conversation and are like “oh no…” cause this has happened before and the chances of it happening again are so unlikely. And maybe they’re confronted like when Aemond lost his eye and everyone yells at each other?

(Also it would be funny if both the Greens and the Blacks were to absorbed in their bickering they didn’t even notice Jaehaera and Aegon III’s feelings for each other? And it isn’t until this happened that they realize how deep this runs and maybe they all overreact to this?)

A/N: I will note here before I start that I actually wrote a very similar request to this already over here. Not sure if you were aware of it but bringing it forward for any case, you may enjoy this one too. That being said, you provided a different dialogue route, so I'll still do this req too. What I linked is from Jaehaera's POV - this will be from Aegon III's POV.

—

“Unhand my son,” his mother yells at his uncle. “At this very moment!” 

Although sobered by now, Aegon still feels as if the world moves too fast to comprehend. One moment he is in a tavern with Jaehaera, playing with the earrings he himself had bought  her a moon prior and tasting the ale she drank from her very own lips, and in another, he is grabbed, tossed and dragged back here. 

Aegon the Elder has a vice grip on his collar. The man is no towering figure, he is in fact smaller than him, but he had the very hold of death when he had caught them in the tavern’s booth. He tasted the blood in his mouth still from several punches. Tomorrow, his eyes would not be the only thing purple about him.

His uncle releases a dismissive sight. It is only when his father steps forward, clutching Dark Sister’s grip, that anything changes. Prince Aemond stands tall with his brother, and Ser Criston Cole goes to charge against his father, but before any fight can take place, Aegon the Elder throws him to the floor. 

He hears Jaehaera squeaking, held aside by her mother and twin brother. The peasant garb she had worn to the city hasn’t dimmed her beauty even a smidge. Her usually pin-straight hair is a mess, and his only comfort at this moment is remembering how his fingers felt running through it. Her lips are still flushed and bruised from kisses, vibrant red because of him, for him. 

His fingers twitch towards her on the floor, while his brothers surround him.If he had the strength to push them all away, he would. Let me be where I want to be.

“You dare batter a prince? In what world do you think it will go unpunished?!” His mother is still raging. 

“This very one, half-sister,” Aegon the Elder yells back, sounding nearby beastly. “I’d sharply question him, but I saw for myself. He touched my daughter.”

Queen Alicent, still in shock, soon blocks his view of Jaehaera. “How long has this been going on for? Tell me now, Jaehaera,” she begins her questioning. His Haera looks the most vulnerable fawn as all eyes in the room land on her, fiddling with one of her fallen earrings. “Tell me so we can fix this.”

She sniffles hard, teary eyes glancing at him in concern. “A little more than..” she stutters. Queen Alicent presses her shoulders. “A little more than a year.”

Before Aegon could even comprehend the confession, Aegon the Elder comes forward once more, swinging his leg and kicking him straight in the face. “You fucking rat!” 

“Father!” Jaehaera lets out a wail. While Aegon groans in pain, head slammed against the floor once more, it seems as if an all out war is brewing in the room. Kingsguards rush to the middle of the room, while his brothers are ready to jump his uncles. Even Jaehaerys comes to push Joffrey away from reaching his father.

Aegon the Elder, as his mother and father introduced him, had been a sullen slob with only hatred within his very core. But his Uncle stands over him and looks at him with fire that implies anything but hatred, at least when it comes to his daughter.

“More than a year... You think my daughter is a common whore for you to flaunt and kiss at taverns? You think she’s a plaything for you to call upon whenever?” he hisses at him. “You ruined her. You have been ruining her! Your mother may have never taught you consequences, but they exist, in this world. Who would wed her now?”

There are many answers to that question. Normally, in their family, it would be one of her brothers, but Jaehaera has noted she and her close family all dislike that idea. Lords that see an opportunity, perhaps; Jaehaera is the only granddaughter of the King, with a dragon to boot. Anyone with eyes, is another thought, as he remembers her round pouts, and long lashes that bat curiously whenever he speaks.

Yet the truth is, there has been only one answer.

“Wed her to me,” he pants out, the blood from his nose dribbling aside. His voice is unwavering, ever clear in the quieting room. “I will have her. I want her.”

She is mine, as much as her father hates to admit it. She is meant to be mine.

The atmosphere shifts in the room. Jaehaera is frozen in place, teary eyes begging. His brothers and mother all turn to gasping stones, but it is his father that has his eyes completely changed. He moves away from Ser Criston Cole, staring at him.

“You will have her?” Aegon the Elder nearly spits out. “Little prick. You will have her when I fade to ash.”

“That is it,” Queen Alicent then says, pushing her son away from him. “Prince Aegon will meet a maester before we all turn to speak mindlessly. I must see Jaehaera to her own maester as well.” The woman sighs.

To check if I took her, is implicit in her words. I should have. Should have wedded and bedded her before any of them could take her away. Jaehaera’s mother and brother take her away, while Prince Aemond and Ser Criston Cole both convince his uncle to step away from him. 

“After we know…” Queen Alicent grimaces. “We will speak of this more, Princess Rhaenyra.”

“We shall,” his mother says. “Do trust this will not be forgotten, Queen Alicent.”

Aegon is helped onto his legs by his brothers. Talk of concussions, responsibilities, and temporary madness all come his way from all fronts as they walk the Red Keep’s hallways. At the end, it is his father that takes him to the maester’s door. His father keeps a stern face. Aegon knows his father does not like that side of this family, he knows he hates them more than anything. However, he keeps his pride about him. 

“I don’t regret it,” Aegon says when they are by the guest room assigned to him. “She is meant to be mine. I will ask it again.”

“You will not,” Daemon answers him, cutthroat. His father’s hand reaches to squeeze on his upper arm, hard.

Aegon gulps. There is something sinister about his father’s gaze.

“Ask, that is. You said all that needed to be said, and I know it will be true,” Daemon tells him. “You will have her. One way… or the other.”

His father turns on his heel, and leaves him be. Jaehaera is there at the back of his mind, sweet lips and violet eyes, with her beauty marks and her gentle voice comparing to the calm of moonlight, but the bride price may be costlier than just the blood dripping down his face.

[notafunkiller]

What if I am too much?

Summary: When Sam's girlfriend calls you clingy, you decide to give Bucky some space. What you don’t know is that he doesn’t want any space. None at all.

Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: 18+, angst, teasing, language, pet names, spanking, daddy kink, metal arm kink, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 2.2K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I want to thank @marvelouslizzie for her help!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

“Oh, you’re alone?”

You turn your head in the direction of the voice and smile politely. You don’t recognize this woman, but she looks at you like she does.

“Uh, yes. Hello!”

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

You instantly blush, ashamed, and search for Bucky’s face in the crowd. Nowhere to be found. Damn it!

“No, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she says before coming next to you. “I’m Misty.” Brunette, tall and beautiful.

“Where did we meet?”

“Sam’s birthday, but I’m not surprised you don’t remember me. You were too busy clinging to Bucky’s side all night.” She sounds serious, and you freeze, having no idea where this came from. She simply laughs, grabbing your arm with some kind of bionic cold hand for a second before letting it go.

It’s not like Bucky’s. It’s more... robotic.

“Clinging?” You ask confused.

“Yeah, you know, always sitting with him, holding his arm, following him around.”

You puff, already annoyed by this random woman. “Following him around? I’m not a dog!”

“Didn’t say you are a dog, honey. Just pointing out the obvious.”

You try to hold your tongue, pushing aside the impulse to start a fight. This is a night about Bucky. Not you or your discomfort. And she is his ex-co-worker-friend’s girlfriend. Your anger can wait.

“Alright, but how does my clinging affect you, though?”

“Oh, don’t take it so personally! I just meant to be friendly. It’s a girl’s advice. Live a little, being insecure is not gonna save your relationship.”

A piece of advice no one asked for. A take you never even considered. You’re not insecure and you’re definitely not keeping Bucky to your side all the time. You don’t… He is free to do whatever the hell he wants.

“Thank you.”

She has the audacity to laugh. “Don’t be so defensive, honey! Gonna get a cocktail, want some?”

You shake your head, feeling a hole in your stomach after she leaves you alone, and you basically run to the bathroom, trying to calm down. What if she is right, though? What if Sam heard or saw something? Maybe Bucky is extra grumpy or unhappy. Maybe he even complained…

You never thought sitting with Bucky is a sign of clinginess. You thought it’d help... he is not the most comfortable person at events. He gets stared at a lot, he hates small talk, and you really like being close to him. Gosh, you are clingy!

The rest of the night passes like a blur. When you come back, Bucky’s waiting for you, and despite your instinct to wrap your arm around his back and let him hold you, you keep a little distance, giving Sam and his nosy girlfriend a fake smile, while Bucky keeps staring at you strangely.

You even manage to avoid touching him all week somehow, except for a few kisses now and then. Your period came, and as he tried to hold you, you had to fight tears while telling him not to. You’re sick and tired and you miss him, but you want to give him some space. You’ve been suffocating him for so long... You make sure to cry only when he’s out because he might hear you even in the shower. He has super hearing after all.

You thought it would become easier every day, but quite the opposite. Every time you’re close to giving up, you remember Sam’s comment that he made a week after you met him about how Bucky always likes his space and what Misty told you, so you fight against your wish.

Until Sunday afternoon.

You’re in bed, scrolling down on Instagram as Bucky comes out of the shower. You try not to stare at him, but how can you not? He looks absolutely incredible.

What you don’t expect is him trying to get on top of you to tickle you with a huge smile on his face. He’s so adorable.

“B-Bucky, stop!” You laugh as his hands get under your T-shirt. He loves making you laugh no matter how he does it. “N-no.”

“Oh, I will,” he says playfully.

But what he failed to tell you is that stopping means sneaking his head under your T-shirt, which starts to rip a little because of the stretch, and resting it on your boobs.

“Bucky!”

He puffs, annoyed. “Why the fuck are you wearing a bra in the house, bubba?”

“Cause it’s a bra?” You ask back sarcastically, but you know this is weird. You always complain about needing to wear it outside. But inside? It’s even worse.

“Unacceptable.” He quickly rips your bra in half, not bothering to unhook it, and you feel his beard on your breast all of a sudden, making you shiver. Fuck, you really miss this.

“B-Bucky, come on, your hair is a little wet!”

“Bubba, please...”

“Bucky! Why did you do that?” He immediately takes his head out of your T-shirt, and you almost cry. He looks do lost and scared.

“Baby, do you not want me anymore?”

“What the fuck?” You groan. This is the last thing you wanted him to think. All you tried to do was to make him happy and feel less pressured.

“You don’t let me touch you. You don’t want to cuddle with me. You don’t wake me up with kisses. You don’t get on top of me You don’t hug me! What did I do?”

Your heart aches for both of you. “Wasn’t that better?”

“Better for who?” He cries. “This was the worst week of my life since Hydra.”

“Unfortunately, that cannot be true, Bucky.” You sigh, getting closer to him. “I thought you like space...”

“I do, but not with my fucking baby!”

You melt at his words, truth be told. He said it so passionately, but you’re so confused.

“I thought I was being too clingy, touching you too much, you know?”

“What? Where did this come from?”

You close your eyes. How are you supposed to answer this without sounding like a petty bitch?

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it does!” You feel his hands grabbing your face so you can look at him. “It means I did something wrong.”

You frown, upset that he thinks that. He’s been nothing but kind, understanding, and loving to you, and you hate how he feels like he failed you or something.

“Sam’s girlfriend told me I am clingy... always with you, never leaving you alone to breathe basically. And it reminded me of Sam saying how much you love your space, and I just...” You try not to cry, you really do, but you cannot hold back the tears this time, which Bucky immediately reaches to wipe with his flesh fingers.

“Jesus, baby! I don’t give a goddamn shit about what they say, you aren’t allowed to listen to anyone! Just let me touch you.”

You immediately wrap your arms around his neck, and Bucky lifts you a bit so you can sit on his lap. You can hear his heartbeat, and you find that so peaceful.

“I thought you’re gonna break up with me, honey.” He whispers in your ear. “I was terrified when you didn’t let me cuddle with you.”

“I’m so fucking sorry, baby.” You don’t know what else to say. You hurt both of you for days just because you let some woman get inside your head, but you had good intentions. “I just didn’t want to be a burden.”

“I should be the one saying that, not you, bubba.” He leaves a kiss on your shoulder. “God, I missed you so much, it feels surreal to touch you.”

“I love you, I’m sorry.”

“Promise to never do this shit ever again!”

“I’ll try,” you murmur. “I didn’t realize you want me to touch you so much.”

Bucky lifts your head. “You know I have to punish you for that, right?”

“Punish me?” You ask surprised.

“Yeah, for believing some stranger over your man. For pulling away and giving me a heart attack. And for depriving yourself of my cuddling skills.”

You giggle. “What if I let you suck my nipples for a whole week anytime you wanted?”

“I already do that!” Bucky lifts your T-shirt as he speaks, and you gasp.

“You do not!”

“Yes, I do. Remember when I came home from the last mission and I made you come by-” He lowers his head and licks your right breast, avoiding your nipple.

“Fuck you, tease!”

“I am the tease?!” He snorts, continuing to lick.

“You’re always the tease. Now kiss me and gimmie your cock.”

“I won’t give you anything until I punish you.”

“Jamie!” You scream when he turns you around, ripping off your shorts in half, along with your underwear before placing you on his thighs. “What the fuck?”

“What the fuck to you for keeping yourself away from me.” You feel him caressing your ass for a few seconds before slapping your right cheek with his flesh hand. You squirm, gripping into his hip.

“F-fuck!”

“Count.”

You groan. “Jamie...” He spanks you again but harder, and this time you moan. “T-two.”

“Nope, we start over.”

“O-one.”

“Good girl!”

The third and fourth aren’t as hard as you want and you find yourself wiggling your ass in the air.

“Harder.”

“Harder?” He snorts, amused, and before he can bring his flesh hand in the air, you grab his metal arm.

“Please, daddy, use this one!”

Daddy? It didn’t take too long for you to get back in the mood.

“Can’t use it, baby, I’m sorry.”

“No!” You cry. “I need it, pleaseee. I’ll ride your face as many times as you w-want.”

Bucky still doesn’t agree. “Baby, it would hurt.”

“Let it hurt!”

You want it to hurt because this pain is not unbearable, quite the opposite. It pushes you over the edge faster.

He sighs and listens to you, bringing his metal hand to your ass, but you barely even feel it when he slaps. You groan, upset.

“I said slap! Do you want me to hover?”

“I can fucking hurt you.”

“I told you to hurt me!” You beg. “Please, honey! Please, please, please.”

He does it again, not hard enough for you, but you count anyway. Again and again.

“Jesus, you’re making my thighs so wet. You’re such a little whore for me.”

“I’m your whore. Always, daddy, please!”

Bucky’s moan comes somehow from the back of his throat, and the last spanks are perfect. He gently caresses your ass, cooling it off with his metal hand, and you smile. “You’re so dirty sometimes, but also such a good girl taking your punishment perfectly.”

“I am sorry,” you whisper.

“For what exactly?”

You pout, grabbing his face. “For all of it. But you’re you, Bucky. You’re the greatest guy in the world, I just didn’t want to be annoying.”

“You were annoying when you didn’t let me even hug you.”

You know that, but sometimes you can’t help but do dumb things, thinking about him. “I wanted you to be happy.”

“Well, I wasn’t happy, obviously. And neither were you, bubba. Promise me you’ll talk to me first next time.”

“I was just stupid…”

“No.” You feel his thumb all over your lips. “You were worried. I love you and I really need your touch, okay?”

“I noticed,” you laugh.

“Good, now feed me my boobs, and then I wanna see you riding my face as you negotiated.”

You fake sigh and grab your boob. “Open up.”

*

You’re not sure how to react when Bucky drags you straight to Sam and his girlfriend as soon as you get inside the museum.

“Hey, Buck-”

“Who do you think you are?”

Misty gasps while Sam and you freeze.

“Wow, wow, wow, man. Hold on a sec, what is going on?”

“What is going on, Samuel?” Bucky asks rhetorically through his teeth. “Ask your little girlfriend where she got her audacity from to tell my girl she is clingy. That she basically spends too much time with me. Who the fuck gave her the permission to even speak to her? So she either apologizes and keeps her mouth shut, or we’ll have a big problem.” Bucky turns his head to look at Misty. “From one metal arm to another. Wanna try me?”

“You did what? What the hell?”

Misty frowns, staring at you. “You went to complain to him for giving you a friendly, harmless advice?”

Bucky instantly grabs her metal arm wrist before you can answer.

“You got three seconds to beg for her forgiveness before I snap your hand in half. And I am not bluffing.”

Sam doesn’t even try to get between them, simply watching, and Misty immediately gets teary.

“I’m... sorry.”

Bucky shakes his head, squeezing her wrist. Holy shit! You haven’t seen him like this in ages. “Didn’t hear you.”

“I am sorry. I should have minded my own business!”

“Yes, you should’ve,” you say without regret. “But I forgive you.”

Bucky lets go with a grunt before nodding to Sam and bringing his hand to your hips, leading you toward the exit.

As soon as you are outside, you don’t even care if someone can hear you as you speak. “Fuck, I wanna suck your cock so badly!”

Bucky laughs. “I see. In the car… is that okay for you?”

You get on your tiptoes to kiss him. “Perfect.”

[ladymochimochi]

✦♡✦ Need To Know - Part Two ✦♡✦

Katakuri x Fem!Reader [AO3 Link] Part One Description: Katakuri's fantasies become reality. Tags: Clothed sex, Face sitting, oral sex (F!Receiving), Multiple orgasms, Dirty talk, Desk sex, Size difference (Reader is slightly sized up to better fit Kata), Come shot, Facial, Come swallowing, 18+ MDNI Words: 3.6k ₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

It truly was getting to be too much. You could not get the sound of him saying your name that way out of your head. So desperate, so needy. It made your stomach flip and your blood run hot. Ever since that day, it was like you were stuck in a haze - floating through your daily routine around Katakuri’s estate, his moans on repeat inside your head. It had definitely spiced up your private time in your bed chambers at night as well. 

The only issue is that you would never bring this up to him. How were you supposed to go up to your huge and intimidating boss – who you also had a crush on - and casually tell him, “Hey, by the way, I was totally listening in on the other side of the door the other day. It was really hot. Should we...?”.  

Yeah. Not happening. 

So, you had kept your head down and worked diligently while trying to avoid bumping into Katakuri. But that could only last so long and you felt your face go pale when you were told it was your duty this week to clean up his office. 

Not only could you potentially see him in there, it was also the scene of where it all happened. How were you supposed to do your job and not want to die the whole time? 

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Fortunately, luck had been on your side and when you had entered his office after knocking, it was evident Katakuri was out at the moment. You quickly got to work, wanting to get your chores done in here before he could return. His office was quite large but not much was in it. Just a large desk and chair and a chaise lounge with a low table, along with a rug, some decor and bookcases. The chaise lounge you always figured was just a part of the decor since there was no way Katakuri actually used it. 

Just as you were wrapping up, you heard the door open behind you and you froze. Of course, your luck could only last so long. You heard Katakuri say your name like he wasn’t expecting to see you and hearing your name from his lips again sent a shiver down your spine. Gathering your courage to face him long enough to get out of here, you quickly turned and grabbed your bucket of cleaning supplies. 

“I just finished, my lord,” you told him. “I’ll be out of here in a moment.” With a small bow, you attempted to leave but he shut the door behind him before you could even cross the room. Panic flooded your senses and you could only watch as he strode up to you. Certain bloodlines within you made it so you weren’t tiny next to him, but you still only came up to about his abdomen. You shyly looked up at him to see him looking down at you and his gaze made it feel like he was analyzing you.  

“M-My lord?” You stammered out, unsure of what to do.  

“I feel like I haven’t seen you around that much these past few days.” Katakuri told you and you felt a lump form in your throat. You swallowed it down and looked away from him. 

“Oh... W-Well, you know, I’ve been so busy cleaning all over the place. So... So many rooms, you know?” You rambled out, your face going the color of crimson. It was a stupid excuse but you couldn’t just tell him the truth outright. You had been avoiding him but you never expected him to notice. He was an important and busy man and you were just a maid that worked for him. It was clear from the other day that he was attracted to you but the fact that he noticed your absence from his presence made your heart flutter. 

His stare only continued and he made no reply to your excuse. It was evident he was not buying it at all and your odd behavior only piqued his interest even more. You began to fidget, hoping he would just let you go and die from shame in your bed chambers. His eyes drifted down to where you were white-knuckling your cleaning bucket and after a second, he visibly stiffened. 

“...You overheard, didn’t you?” His question was so quiet but you heard it all the same. A knot formed in your stomach and you felt tears prick at the back of your eyes. You could have tried to play dumb and say you didn’t know what he meant but you knew it was pointless and also cowardly. Words bubbled up your throat and you couldn’t stop yourself from speaking out. 

“I’m so sorry, my lord. I truly didn’t mean to but...” You started to confess but you trailed off, not knowing how to excuse your spying on him. Not able to face him anymore, you turned your back to him, still death gripping your bucket. You knew it was rude to do, especially to your boss but your heart just couldn’t take it. “It was wrong of me.” You whispered. 

“No.”  His reply stunned you. “It was wrong of me to do that and then put you in this position.” You turned slightly back to him and while you couldn’t see half of his face due to his signature scarf, you could see the tips of his ears were a dusty pink. The sight made your heart beat faster and it was something you wanted to burn into your brain. You turned away again, staring at his desk. This whole situation was awkward for the both of you but here you were and this needed to be taken care of.  

It was time to be honest. 

“It’s alright... I actually didn’t mind at all.” You said, your face burning hot. He stepped closer and you could feel the heat of his body right behind you. 

“Is that so?” He rumbled out, right by your ear. It sent a shiver down your spine and you finally dropped your bucket. Him being so close was making your head spin.  

“Yes. It was...” You trailed off, feeling too shy to say it aloud. But he wasn’t going to let you off like that. 

“Tell me.” He ordered as he stood back up to his full height and put his hands on your shoulders. You lost your breath at having him finally touch you. Your heart was beating so fast you felt like it may just burst from your chest. Was this really happening? Where was this even going? If it was going where you thought it was, you weren’t going to say no.  

“It was really hot. Hearing you say my name like that, knowing what you were doing on the other side of that door.” You whispered, your skin burning. He didn’t immediately reply and the silence was killing you. 

“What were you thinking about?” You breathlessly asked him and he gripped you tighter. You needed to know. What had been going through his head while he stroked himself to the thought of you? 

A beat of silence passed before he replied. 

“How about I show you?” 

You stared up at him over your shoulder with wide eyes and slowly nodded your head, your mouth now gone dry. With that he turned you around and lifted you up, hitching your legs around his waist. You let out a small, startled noise and clung to his broad shoulders. You didn’t expect him to move so quickly after how slow the two of you were going just a moment ago.  

He brought you over to the chaise lounge and sat down on the edge of it. You were now straddling him and could feel his arousal press into you. It was quite large and it made you swallow while wondering how you were going to take it – if this even went that far. 

His large hands moved to your waist to hold you in place and - to your surprise - he laid back onto the large rectangular cushion.  

“Wh-What are you doing?” You asked him startled. Katakuri was the man who never laid on his back and here he was now laying beneath you. Not that you minded really. Having this huge man now pinned under you made heat coil in your lower stomach. 

His eyes roamed over your body and his hands moved down your waist to your ass, pulling your short dress up to bunch around your hips. He then grabbed your ass roughly and you gasped.  

“I’m going to let you in on a secret.” He said as he kneaded your ass. His movement caused your hips to start rocking, grinding your core against his cock still confined to his pants and you panted lightly. “I do lay on my back from time to time. Especially when I’m about to have my hot maid ride my face.”  

His words stunned you to silence and you could only stare down at him wide eyed, mouth slightly agape. You were most definitely wet at this point and you could feel your pussy throb at how seductive he was being. 

“Now, I’m going to need these off.” He said as stopped kneading your ass and he snapped your panties against the skin of your hip. It jolted you out of your stupor. Biting your lip, you continued to grind yourself down on his arousal. You didn’t want to have to get off of him for even a second.  

“Rip them.” You told him like a soft command and his eyes widened, pupils dilating and he let out a growl as he promptly ripped both sides of your panties. You lifted your hips enough to get the ruined cloth out from under you and he tossed them across the room. 

“Close your eyes.” He rasped to you and while the sudden command left you confused, you did as he said. “Don’t open them until I tell you to.”  

“Yes, my lord.” You whispered in response, darkness the only thing you could now see. Not being able to see what he was going to do to you next added another level of heat to the situation and you could feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest. Then you felt his strong hands on your hips and he was lifting you again. A small gasp left you as he brought you up and set you back again. You felt the soft fabric of his scarf on your thighs and you put two and two together that he had you hovering over his face. Knowing your bare pussy was right in front in his face made you feel so light headed, you were worried you may pass out. 

There was a small sound of fabric shifting and then you felt it. His large, hot tongue licked up your slit and you threw your head back as you let out a loud cry. One of your hands went backwards to brace yourself on his broad chest while the other fumbled to find his hair and you gripped it tightly, earning a grunt from the man below you. His fingers dug into your thighs and then he went to work on you like a man starved. 

You moaned loudly as his tongue lapped at your clit. It was an extreme pleasure you had never felt before and you gripped his hair tighter. Katakuri let out raspy groan in response and flicked his tongue faster. You cried out again and began to move your hips. As you rocked your hips in time with his licking, you could have sworn you felt...fangs? Your mind was in such of a sex haze though that it quickly left your thoughts.  

You could feel your orgasm building quickly and you quietly begged him for more. He started to switch between licking and sucking on your clit and it wasn’t long before your orgasm ripped through you. You let out a high-pitched moan and squeezed your eyes shut, trying not to snap them open. You rode out your orgasm on his face while he kept licking and sucking.  

Once you were able to catch your breath, you started to shift away from him. But he only gripped your thighs tighter. 

“I’m not done yet.” He growled beneath you and you were about to question him when his tongue plunged into your hole. You screamed out at the hot, wet intrusion. Your hand on his chest pressed down harder and you dug your nails into his flesh. You wished you could open your eyes and watch him go to town on you but you didn’t dare disobey him. His tongue repeatedly went in and out of you and you could nothing but moan, pinned down to his face.  

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.” You gasped over and over, another orgasm coming quickly. “It’s so good.” You groaned out, now having found your voice. Katakuri moaned in response and went even faster in and out of you. Your thighs began to shake and you pressed yourself down onto his face harder.  

“Yes, yes, yes!” You squealed out as you rode out your second orgasm. Once this one passed, you let out a harsh breath and doubled over, still keeping your eyes closed.  

You lifted yourself from his face and this time he let you. His own haggard breathing could be heard and it made your walls clench. It reminded you of him jerking off and you hoped you could hear more of his noises. 

With your eyes still shut, he lifted you again and put you back on his lap. His erection felt even harder than before and you bit your lip. There was shuffle of fabric again and you waited for his next order. 

“You can open your eyes now.” He told you and you slowly did so, getting adjusted to the lights again. You looked down at him and drank in the sight of him.  

His hair disheveled, large chest heaving, half covered face flushed red, eyes absolutely hungry. You could come again just looking at him. It must’ve shown on your face because he swiftly sat up, wrapped your legs around him and stood once more. This time he took you over to his desk and set you down on your feet. But your legs were still shaking and you had to grab him before you collapsed to the floor. 

“I got you.” He said as he held you up. “You doing okay?” He asked you gently and you nodded back. “We can stop if you need to.” He said but you shook your head. 

“No, I’m good to keep going. Please don’t stop.” You told him softly, looking up at him. His gaze over his scarf turned hungry again and then he turned you around, placing a hand on your back. His large hand on your back slowly pressed you down so that your front was pressed down against the top of his large desk. The hand still there gently rubbed your back as it slowly made its way down to your ass.  

He pushed your dress up so that you were exposed to him and he turned his hand to slip two fingers into your wet cunt. The sudden intrusion made you cry out as you rocked your hips back to ride his fingers. He large fingers dipped in and out of you at a brutal pace. It stretched you out good and you knew this was in prep for his large cock.  

After everything he had done to you, it wasn't long before you reached yet another orgasm. You were a stuttering mess of oh yes and please as your third orgasm ripped through you. Your breath was ragged as you rode your high. 

“Please...” You started to beg. “I need your cock, my l-lord.” You couldn’t even catch your breath but your body needed him and needed him now. You could feel yourself dripping wet and your thighs slick. 

He removed his fingers from you and you heard the clink of his belt coming undone. Your mind was fully hazy again with lust and all that was on your mind was his cock. You wiggled your ass at him, excited at the prospect of getting fucked. His hand came down and smacked against one of your cheeks causing you to cry out. 

“Stay still.” He ordered huskily and your eyes rolled back.  

“Yes... Yes, my lord.” You panted, the side of your face pressed against his desk. Then you felt the head of his cock as he notched it at your entrance. One of his hands gripped your hip as he slowly directed his cock into you.  

You moaned loudly at the stretch; he was much bigger than you ever expected but you were determined to take it all. His thumb rubbed circles onto your hip as he entered you inch by inch.  

“You’re doing so good.” He gently said to you and you clenched around him, whimpering in reply. Soon he was seated fully within you and you were breathing rapidly at being so full. Once you were fully used to the stretch, you gave him the go ahead to start moving.  

He started out slow, pumping into you with control. Your body was slowly giving into the pleasure, every thrust feeling better and better. You started to mewl and moan and he went faster, fingers digging into your hip. 

“You’re so big.” You said breathlessly. “It’s so fucking good, yes, fuck me.” You pleaded to him, starting to see stars across your vision. 

The hand that had been leading his cock into you slammed down onto his desk next to your head and you gasped. 

You felt his large frame press onto your back as he bent over to be on top of you and your walls clenched ever tighter around him. He started to drill into you and you could barely catch your breath. To be taken in such of a feral fashion made your eyes roll back into your head. 

“This... is what I was stroking my cock to the other day.” He seductively said down to you, his thrusts unrelenting. “You crying out for my cock while I fuck you like this, after I ate my fill of your sweet pussy.” 

His words alone were about to send you into another orgasm. You cried out again and dug your nails into the wood of his desk. At this point, words were beyond you and you were just a crying, mewling mess. The hand on your hip suddenly moved and he brought it between your body and his desk so he could play with your clit. You started to scream out, your legs shaking violently. It was too much, way too much. The feel of his fingers moving against your clit, the harsh thrusts of his huge cock inside you, the press of his body against you. 

Your vision blacked out for a second and yet another orgasm crashed into you at rapid speed. He picked up his pace, fucking you faster and faster through your orgasm. You were screaming so loud you were sure the whole estate – maybe even the whole island – could hear you but you didn’t care at all. Never in your life had you been fucked like this and you were going to enjoy every second of it. 

You were slowing your rapid breathing down when you realized you had been drooling on his desk. As you were going to lift your head, Katakuri grabbed your waist and brought you up himself so the two of you were standing against the desk.  

“There’s one more thing to this fantasy.” He rumbled out to you, slightly out of breath himself. You couldn’t fathom what else he had in store for you but you were willing to go along with anything at this point. “On your knees, mouth open, tongue out.” He ordered and slipped his cock out of you.  

His words made your whole body shiver and your pussy throb yet again. He stepped away from you and it didn’t take much effort for you to get onto the floor. Your body basically thanked you for doing so. You faced him on your knees and this was the first time you actually got to see his cock. 

Your brain short-circuited as you tried to process how the hell that had fit inside of you.  

What brought you out of your thoughts was his hand stroking his huge cock and you remembered he was waiting. Looking up at him, you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue just like he told you to. He groaned and pumped his fist faster.  

This was really what he fantasized about? Holy shit.  

You placed your hands on the floor in-between your spread knees and hefted your chest up, cleavage on display and stuck your ass out, wanting to give him the best view. His face, still half hidden by his scarf, flushed at you doing this and his eyes had a look of desperation in them. His fist went faster and faster until he let out a guttural moan and his cum shot out onto you. 

You closed your eyes as most of it landed on your tongue but some ended up on your cheek and even the top of your breasts. Slowly opening your eyes, you made eye contact with him and then drew your tongue back into your mouth and visibly swallowed.  

“Fuck.”  

It was all Katakuri could mutter after seeing such a display. You tilted your head to the side while still looking up at him, smiling softly but with wicked look in your eye. 

“Was it everything you wanted, my lord?” 

[ivorydragoness44]

Van Helsing x Reader: Up To The Task

Word Count: tba

Warnings/Notes: mentions of an injury (not graphic), snarky banter. Gender neutral reader.

Summary: The Reader finds an injured Van Helsing. But does he want help?

The night was cold, more so when a eerily gentle breeze brushed across your exposed skin. You adjusted the scarf around your neck. The temperature usually did not bother you, but there was just something particularly odd that night.

As you walked along the cobbled streets, you scarcely passed by anyone. It was late. Why would anyone be wandering around at such an hour? But you were.

Heavy labored breathing caught your attention. Whoever it was sounded tired as you approached a gap between two buildings. You slowed your pace to one of caution.

There on the ground sat a man, leaning against the sturdy wall. His head was reclined, as if looking up to the sky in a time of need. But when he heard your shoe make contact with a particularly loud spot on the ground, he noticed you.

Looking over his shoulder, you could just make out the face under the rim of his hat. The most wanted man in all of Europe. What were the odds? Though, as the situation may be, hopefully the odds were in your favor.

His eyes shifted over, catching yours. "You never saw me." Giving you a stern once over as you stepped between the buildings, he huffed to himself.

Initially, you were not going to engage, but something told you otherwise. "You're hard to miss, Mister Van Helsing." Not moving for a moment, you watched him. Analyzing. However, he made no move toward you. It went against everything you had ever heard about the man. But then again, what was the word of other people? People who had only witnessed him at a distance or not at all.

Stepping around him, you looked for the source of his visible discomfort. You followed up the length of his arm. At his shoulder, you noticed the wound. Cut through his coat and sweater, it was a nasty little gash by the redness soaked into the ripped fabric. His gloved hand pressed against it. "You're hurt."

He gave a dry laugh. "I've had worse." Smile faltering with a quiet snarl of pain.

"I'm sure you have."

Inching closer to him, you knelt down to his level. You reached out, but he made no move to stop you. Not even a glance, until he was within their reach. You moved aside his dark hair. The wavy locks distracting you momentarily. "For a terrible wanted man, you have such kitten soft hair."

Thick brows knitting together, he frowned at you. "And what do you think you're doing?"

"Helping an injured person," you said. You stilled your hand to try to get a better look at his injury. "Who...or...what caused this?"

A weak smile pulled up the corner of his mouth. "Heh...I think it's best if you didn't know."

You nodded. "Fair enough. But for now, I'm going to at least tend to those wounds. Let someone help you for a change, Mister Van Helsing."

"That would be a change... Wouldn't it?"

With his strange excuse for consent, you continued. Pushing his coat off, you tried your best to be gentle. At least he helped with meagerly shaking his arm out of the sleeve. You needed better access to reach and look at his shoulder.

Slowly, you pinched at the soft fabric. Managing to lift it out of the way, you finally got a better view of his injury. With scarce moonlight and street lamps to aid you, you peeked underneath at his skin. "It doesn't look to bad."

"It sure feels like it." He grumbled, trying to get a look at it for himself.

"I thought you said you'd had worse?." You eyed him with playful skepticism.

"That was before you touched it."

"My apologies." You said, releasing the material from the grasp.

He sucked in a breath and gave a smile. "I don't think anyone's ever apologied to me. Not that they had any reason to."

Your brows furrowed at his words. "Never?"

"No," he replied quietly.

"Hmm, well, there's always a first time for everything." Straightening up, you uncoiled your scarf from around your neck.

"I guess that's true." He eyed you then with soft confusion. "What are you--?"

Grabbing ahold of his arm, you pulled it away from his body. "Small injury or not, we can't have you with an open wound in this night air." Gingerly, you wrapped your scarf around his shoulder. Only a small muffled groan or two was kept restrained from him as you did so.

"There," you said, tucking the fabric into itself. "Now, being that it was your shoulder, I can safely assume that you can stand. Unless there's another wound that you have failed to mention."

Though he pursed his lips together, his brown eyes held no harshness. Without a word, grounded his boots and pushed himself up from the wall, taking his coat with him.

As you stood as well, you took into account his confident stature. It must have been like second nature to him. But what could have ever happened to make him as such a man?

"Satisfied?" He asked, his features becoming strikingly more playful despite his ordeal.

You gave a small smile. Fearing him did not seem possible, but there was one thing you did not think to be worried about before. The fear of being captivated by him.

"Come, Mister Van Helsing," you beckoned as you stepped around him. "Your wound needs to be cleaned and dressed."

"You're going to trust a stranger into your home?"

"You trusted a stranger to check your injury," you countered.

"Touché."