#eventually get rid of his softness at around this time

[lucigoo]

So, once agian I couldn't resist lol. Thank you for another amazing (unintended) prompt!

Toss A Coin To Your Witcher (Because I Stole His Horse) - A03 link ,a nd fic below the read more!

Jaskier stumbled down the side of the mountain, angry. In fact, he was so enraged that he didn't have the words to describe how mad he was. 

He also couldn’t stop the pathetic whimper he let out. He wasn't just angry. He was seething, raging, but also heartbroken. His heart may as well have been ripped out of his chest and crushed under Geralt's boot. It wasn't like it even belonged to Jaskier anymore. It hadn't for more years than he could count. It belonged to Geralt, and he was a careless fucking fool with it. Which had led to Jaskier stumbling down the side of a mountain with tears blurring his vision and nothing but a blind hope he was going in the right direction. 

His hope paid off when he heard Roach's distinctive sound. At her calls, more tears poured down his face. 

Jaksier rushed the rest of the way to where she was still tied up and pushed his face into her neck. He wasn't sure how long he stood there, sobbing into her coat, but stand there he did. 

Roah, usually a grouchy beast at best, just stood there, her head resting on Jaksier's shoulder as she allowed him to cry his pain out, an almost alien sentinel as he tried to purge the pain he knew he would never be rid of. 

Eventually, he ran out of tears, though his eyes felt heavy and painful. He took one last deep, shuddering sigh before stepping back and gently stroking Roach's nose sadly. "Thank you, girl. Look after him, won't you, though he doesn't deserve it. Or you or me," Jaksier whispered before he pressed a soft kiss on Roach's muzzle. 

He then turned to her saddlebags, roughly, quickly dividing his and Geralt's things. It had been a long time since they had separate ones. Geralt's things often ended up wherever Jaskier wintered, and Jaskier often never made it back from Kear Morhen, though he was never sure why. 

He took great pains to ensure all of Geralt's potions and oils were placed back in his bags, not wanting him to die from lack of them, though a bit of maiming he would heal from wouldn't go amiss. 

Jaskier finally stood there and finished dividing his and Geralt's lives up. He fought hard not to curl up and sob right then and there. He was stronger than that. Could be stronger than a wilting maiden who lost herself to heartbreak. He refused to act like that for a man who had never loved him in any way. Just because he had given Geralt his entire heart, well, he now knew Geralt didn't even consider them friends. It was also painfully obvious that Geralt must not even LIKE Jaskier, though he could never be sure why he had put up with him for so long. 

He let out a mournful sigh that echoed off the mountain and surrounded him, all but screaming his pain back at him before he shouldered his pack and turned to leave. 

As he stepped away, he turned quickly at Roach's distressed whinnies. Not that he could do anything if there was, but Jaskier whipped around, ready to defend her if necessary. But there was nothing there, just Roach pulling at her reins as he walked away from her, from Geralt. 

"Oh, sweetheart, you can't come with me. You have to stay, my lovely," Jaskier whispered as he soothed her, preparing her for him to leave again. He placed another kiss on her muzzle and turned, managing to get a few more steps before she started whinnying and calling out in even more distress. 

"Roach, darling, stop," Jaskier called as he rushed back to her. "Enough, sweet girl, before you harm yourself. You have to stay, and I have to go. He … it appears he only loves fiery mares and violet-eyed women," Jaskier said with a sad, almost desperate laugh. 

He stroked her once more before finally turning to leave and never cross paths with Geralt again; after all, he knew where he wasn't wanted. 

He got even further this time, almost around the bend, before he turned at the horrendous noise Roach was making. She was all but screeching. Thrashing and bucking, trying to rip her reins off the tree.

Jaskier once again ran back to her. He couldn't allow her to harm herself. 

He took deep breaths as he soothed Roach unsure what to do. He obviously couldn't leave her if she was going to act like this. She would hurt herself, or worse, call a monster down to do it for her when she was tied up and defenceless with no Geralt insight. 

Jaskier stayed there stroking and calming Roach for who knew how long. Still, he was very aware of time slipping away from him and the fact that whilst Geralt could throw him away like he was yesterday's rubbish, he would never do the same for Roach. 

It was then that a cruel, terrible idea came to him. One that had him giggling at its sheer meanness and one he would take full advantage of. 

"Alright, sweet, sweet girl. Let's go," Jaksier said, looking up the path. Not sure if he wanted Geralt to suddenly materialise down it and stop him or to get away with this darling horse that that fool of witcher did not and had never deserved. 

In the end, the light rain that started to drizzle chose for Jaksier. He was already smarting and brokenhearted; he didn't need to be soaking wet, too. 

He removed Geralt's saddle bags from Roach's saddle and attached them high in a tree. Leaving his own water skin and his food, as well as half of their coin that was usually in a shared purse. He may be angry, but he didn't want Geralt to go hungry or thirsty, even if Jaksier knew that, in reality, he could withstand days without either. 

He once again cursed his fool heart for still caring about the jackass before attaching his one saddle bags to Roach and carefully picking his way down the mountain, gaining speed and getting as far away from Geralt as possible as soon as the land levelled out. 

He refused to look back, refused to think about what he had lost, especially when he gave Roach her head, and she galloped away with a heart-sore bard on her back. 

You know in Burn Butcher Burn, the "all those lonely miles that you ride ,now you walk with no one by your side" part.. I've always wondered why he is using "walk" in the second verse, it's weird it almost doesn't make sense since Geralt is always on Roach or Roach is always by his side.

Well.. Guess what! That motherfucker stole the goddamn horse after the Mountain.

Good!

[elias-magnusnt]

You know, if I were in your position, I would've taught Jonah a lesson about that softness of his by now, just as Mordechai taught you.

You might not be able to send his beloveds into the Lonely, but you're plenty resourceful. I'm certain you could think of something.

I won't lie and say I haven't considered it. But... I couldn't do it underhandedly and at this point I feel Jonah's affection for me matters more than the strenght of his will.

[mggslover]

judt thinking about reader and spencer making out and just doing stuff over clothes yk and spencer cumming his pants 🥰 (love your work btw !!)

dry humping with spencer genre: smut (18+) cw: just a bunch of variations on dry humping lol, inexperienced!spencer but his confidence grows throughout it, tit play, fingering, handjob over clothes wc: 1,6k a/n: i wrote this "drabble" so quickly, felt so inspired by your request. this was a really fun one, thank you!

From the moment you started dating Spencer Reid, you knew your relationship would be nothing like your previous ones. Not only was Spencer way kinder and more thoughtful than anyone you’ve ever dated, he was also more inexperienced.

Spencer’s lack of relationships and experience in the bedroom never posed a problem for you. In fact, you found it endearing that he was shyer than the average man, and it felt good to know you’d found someone who took your relationship seriously and wanted to take things slow before moving to the next step. 

Spencer didn’t mind all physical touch, though. You often found yourself cuddled up on the couch, facing him as you sat on his lap, his arms wrapped around you and his face hidden in the crook of your neck. 

As much as you tried to contain yourself, you were just a girl. And sitting on your boyfriend’s lap as he held you close and smelled deliciously like leather-bound books and overly sweetened coffee, turned you on. A lot. 

So it was a little more than an accident when, one day, during a passionate makeout session on the couch, you found yourself moving your hips against him. Spencer’s response was immediate, inhaling a sharp breath against your mouth. You pressed your lips back to his in a soft peck, making him forget about it until you repeated the movement a few minutes later. He responded with a whimper, and you pulled back enough to see the slight furrow in his brows and the twinkle in his eyes, his face speaking words he was too nervous to admit. 

“Do you want me to do it again?”

Spencer swallowed, giving a hesitant nod. His nerves quickly faded into pleasure as you put your hands on his shoulders, giving you enough grip to continue your motions. Your lips found his neck, and with a couple of licks and bites, he came undone, moaning incoherent words as his hips stuttered into you.

This event became a solid foundation to build on. Spencer’s confidence grew over time. Whereas it used to be only you who touched him, Spencer now dared to explore your body as well: his hands roaming over the sides of your thighs, wandering to the curve of your ass, kneading the covered skin as you grind your body against him. 

His warm hands would glide under your shirt, leading you to assure him that he could take it off. First came your top, then your bra. The more clothes you removed, the bigger Spencer’s need was to touch you. To take control. On his own initiative, he would squeeze your breasts, biting down on his bottom lip as your nipples hardened in reaction. He’d reach out to rub the buds in circular motions, until they stood peaked enough for him to wrap his lips around them. 

You’d revel in the feel of Spencer hungrily sucking on your nipples, gripping your tits tightly in his hands. He was like a man starved, having spent all his years without the touch of a woman. He couldn’t get enough, especially not because it was you. 

After a while, you even convinced him to get rid of his shirt. He didn’t regret his decision as you showered his chest in kisses, making him feel more loved than he thought was possible.

Eventually, Spencer wasn’t intimidated by the concept of dry humping anymore. Going as far as putting you into different positions. He’d have you on your hands and knees, your back arched as he thrusted against you. His strong hand would hold you by your thigh, the other placed on your shoulder as his denim-clad bulge repeatedly pressed against the thin fabric of your leggings. The rough material of his pants gave just enough friction for you to orgasm, your face pressed into the mattress as you cried out. Spencer only stopped once his pants reflected the same wet spot as yours had. 

-`♡´-

It was on a sunny morning that you found yourself tangled up in each other on top of his bedsheets. 

The heat of the night had resulted in both of you undressing down to your underwear. You woke up with Spencer pressed against your back, sleepily grinding his cock against the swell of your ass. Your moans woke him, and in practiced ease, he pulled you into a deep kiss. 

In all the months of dating, you had never seen Spencer in his underwear before. You could predict what his cock would look like based on the feel, but seeing his hard length stand proud in his boxers, pointing up to the small patch of hair covering his stomach, was a more mouthwatering sight than you’d imagined. 

Spencer lay on his back, his upper body propped up against some bundled-up pillows. Golden streams of sunlight hit his chest, and a tired smile graced his lips.

You happily climbed on top of him, your knees bent on either side of his body. You lowered yourself down onto his bulge, a satisfied moan leaving your lips as his length perfectly fitted between the space your thighs had created. His warm brown eyes never left yours as you placed your hands on his stomach, fingers digging into the soft skin as you moved your hips up and down. The room was filled with the soft creaking of the bed and the mixture of your moans. Another thing you loved about Spencer: he was loud. A whimpering and moaning mess every time your covered pussy made contact with his bulge.

When you looked down, you caught a glimpse of the tip of his cock peeking out from underneath his boxers, revealing itself as the fabric moved with your movements. It flushed a deep shade of pink and glistened with precum, seeming to accumulate with each roll of your hips. You didn’t want to bring any attention to it, scared he’d turn self-conscious, so instead you locked your lips with his.

He bit down on your bottom lip and moved his hands to your ass, helping you quicken your movements against his cock. You threw your head back in pleasure, giving him a beautiful view of your breasts as they caught the sunlight. He cupped them in his hands and thrust his hips up into you. 

His name left your lips in a high-pitched moan. “Oh, Spencer.”

“Am I making you feel good, sweetheart?”

You cried in response, nodding your head. Your sounds of pleasure always encouraged him. He felt bolder as he slipped his hand in his underwear, adjusting himself so that his tip rubbed deliciously against your soaked underwear. 

“Turn around for me, baby.” 

You turned around on his lap, leaning back against his chest. Your knees remained spread and bent, and he held you up by the back of your thighs as he slammed his bulge up into you. Your hand slipped to your underwear, rubbing your palm against your heat. Your clit stood swollen, the layer of cotton forming no barrier for your pleasure. 

Experimentally, your hand slid lower down to his cock, rubbing the length and cupping his balls over his underwear. 

“F-fuck, do that again,” Spencer breathed heavily.

You obeyed, jerking him through his boxers. You felt overwhelmed by the feeling of him, finally able to know how heavy he felt in your hands. Your fingertips softly traced the veins of his cock, and you could feel his breath heaving against your neck. He pressed a wet kiss to the sensitive skin, making you shiver. 

Spencer resumed where you left off, his hand making its way to your pussy. He hooked his fingers into the fabric of your underwear, pulling it aside and revealing how soaked you were. “All of this for me?”

You gasped as his long fingers trailed your outer lips. The pleasure clouded your mind, and you couldn’t find the words as your boyfriend, for the first time, slipped a finger inside of you. He curled his finger skillfully, and you would’ve believed it if he told you he’d done this a thousand times. 

The warmth in your core started building faster than anticipated. You reached out to grab Spencer’s wrist in an effort to ground yourself. He didn’t stop his movements, though, pumping his finger inside of you as he rutted against you at the same fast pace. 

“Spencer, I’m-” 

Your words got cut off as a leg-shaking orgasm washed over you. Spencer let out a deep groan, and you could feel his hot release forming underneath you. 

You hurriedly got off his lap, sitting on your knees next to him as you took in the scene. His underwear was translucent from your juices, and his happy trail was coated in his thick, white cum. 

“You made a mess of me,” Spencer chuckled, his voice still hoarse from waking up. 

You gave him a dreamy smile, and he returned it with a big, goofy grin.

“You look so incredibly hot, I wish I could fuck you.”

The words escaped your lips before you realized. You always made sure not to hint at wanting anything more than he was ready for, not wanting to rush him. You nervously looked up at him, but where you expected to find your boyfriend looking uncomfortable, his eyes shone with a compelling glimmer as he licked his lips.

“I think I’m ready for that.”

[muwapsturniolo]

Cuteness aggression 🐰ྀི C. Sturniolo

“You’re cute, but stop fuckin’ bitin' me kid!”

⟢ Cuteness aggression, and that’s about it. Link to video this was inspired by is in the title!!!

dividers by @bernardsbendystraws

She didn't understand why she felt this way.

She took one look at her boyfriend, and suddenly, she had all this energy bouncing around in her body. It wasn't like he was doing anything special, he had just come back inside from smoking and was now sitting at his desk playing some random game.

But for some reason, he just looked adorable.

His eyes were low and hazy, whatever strain of weed he smoked making him relaxed. He had on one of his larger sweaters and a pair of sweatpants, the clothes making him look so cozy and warm. He was manspreading as well, leaning back in his chair and mumbling under his breath.

She just couldn't take it anymore.

She hops off the bed with ease, her feet making a soft thump on the hardwood floors before she makes her way over to Chris. His eyes dart to her figure, her face being illuminated by the two monitors on his desk.

"Hey bab-" he's immediately cut off by the girl climbing onto his lap, a soft smile on his face as she nuzzles her head into his neck. He chuckles silently, kissing the top of her head.

"Few more minutes Bun, then I'm all yours."

She hums softly and cuddles up to him even more, attempting to calm herself down, however, it doesn't work. That energy still bursting in her body is at an all-time high, and it's all because he looks cute.

She couldn't handle it anymore.

She starts to pepper small kisses along his neck, nothing sexual, just showing her ever-growing affection towards him. As the seconds go by and her energy increases, the small and soft kisses become more aggressive.

She moves the kisses to his jaw, the smooching noises becoming more obnoxious, but somehow, Chris doesn't notice.

She uses this as an opportunity.

She goes back to kissing along his neck, trailing the kisses to his shoulder before sinking her teeth into his skin.

The action finally catches Chis's attention, his body jerking and head whipping towards her. She looks at him innocently, as if she didn't just bite him.

"Kid, what the hell are you doing?"

"Nothing..."

He can't help the smile of disbelief making its way across his face. "Nothing? You just took a bite out of my shoulder like a damn shark." She giggles and attacks his face with more kisses, cupping his cheeks and squishing them together.

"You're just so cute, and I can't help it! I look at you, and I just wanna-" She lets out a noise that sounds like a squeal and a growl. Chris scrunches his face up and tries to push her away, but it's no use - she's stronger than a toddler who has something they aren't supposed to have.

He eventually gives up, letting her continue the assault on his face. All he can do is sit there and take the love and affection his favorite girl gives him.

She stops her kisses and smushes her face against his, their forehead and noses touching.

"You look like that damn Spongebob meme you sent me," he mumbles, his hands finding their way to her hips. She ignores him and basically stares at him with heart eyes.

"You're so handsome, so cute, I could just eat you up!"

"I'm not cute kid- OW!"

He moves his face away as she bites at his nose, his headphones falling off in the process. He huffs and stands up, throwing her over his shoulder effortlessly. She squeals in shock and laughs as he throws her down on the bed. He crawls over her, keeping her pinned down to the bed.

"You’re cute but stop fuckin’ bitin' me kid!”

She smiles and wraps her body around him, pulling him closer and kissing all over his face once more.

"I just get so giddy and full of energy when I look at you, that I don't know how to get rid of it!"

Her explanation makes him smile, he knew exactly what feeling she was talking about - he often felt it himself.

He grabs her jaw, making her look at him. He can see the love in her eyes, it makes him feel warm inside.

"I love you," he expresses softly.

She smiles widely and plants a fat kiss on his lips, "I love you too...Can we get ice cream?"

[kazusys]

— hugging scenarios.

genshin men in different scenarios revolving around hugging. (❕) a/n: will maybe do a pt. 2. suggest (male) characters! :]

characters included: kazuha, xiao, scaramouche/wanderer, tighnari, cyno, kaeya, and diluc.

kazuha nuzzles his head in your neck as you run your fingers through his un-ponytailed hair, your back facing him as you focus mainly on what you’re reading.

he’s gripping you tightly, thinking up reasons of how he’d be able to explain throwing your book with your notes inside across the room solely to steal your attention away from working so much. he means the best— really!

as much as it is tempting, kazuha wouldn’t dare make you upset at him for ruining your papers. instead, he’ll patiently wait and continue softly humming and kissing your neck until you finish. he’d wait for as long as you wish, if it only meant you’d eventually hold him in your arms at the end.

he hears you sigh a few minutes later. “ah… i think that should be it.”

he watches in anticipation as you put your research on the nightstand and turn to face him, a soft smile on your face as you apologize. “sorry, love.”

kazuha simply shakes his head as he brings you in closer, kissing your lips in earnest.

“xiao?” you call out, a little bit of a stutter coming out at the end. it was absolutely freezing out here. it was a good thing you brought a jacket, but even then.

you felt a breeze behind you as you turned to face the beloved adepti materializing out of nowhere.

the smile you wore quickly changed as you panicked seeing what he was wearing. reaching for your coat buttons, you cut off whatever he was about to say with, “are you crazy?! you’ll die of hypothermia wearing that in this weather! oh my gosh, xiao—”

“it’s really—” he tries to make a sentence again, only to be shut off by you wrapping your piece of clothing around his shoulders, directing his arms to go through the sleeves.

although he was used to this sort of cold weather, he appreciated the thought. but the odd warm fuzzy feelings that usually overtook his chest whenever you did something kind for him didn’t fully spread this time around, seeing that your sleeveless top and thin enough pants barely sheltered you at all from the snow starting to come down.

it was his turn to reprimand you as he sighed, “you’re calling me crazy, and yet you’re the one wearing a sleeveless shirt in the middle of one of our coldest periods. what were you thinking?”

despite him looking annoyed, he came towards you and swiftly picked you up bridal style, earning a small yelp as you were swept off your feet (literally) and teleported over to wangshu inn.

you quickly got over the initial shock, a smile returning to your lips. “y’know, that’s technically qualified as kidnapping.”

“shut up.” he responded, although with no malicious hint in his voice. he made sure to kiss you afterwards though, just for some extra warming up.

scaramouche hates you, he swears. he hates you (affectionately), he hates you (lovingly), he hates you (with absolutely no hate behind his words).

but, let’s be honest, he really doesn’t.

he loves you so badly it hurts. it hurts to think that one day, you might leave him like everyone else has. even after everything, even after he got rid of his name scaramouche, sometimes those seeds of doubt still manage to plague him, even though you’ve been with him through it all. damn his stupid past.

but, oh. the way those seeds get crushed under the weight of his non-existent heart expanding as you hug him tightly, your arms squeezing him unlike a thing but a human.

he holds back his tears as he lets himself be held by you, his own arms holding you just as tight as he leaves a kiss, albeit shaky, on your jaw.

when you rub his back comfortingly, he lets the smallest tear run down his porcelain face before burying his head into your collarbone, letting the rest fall as he recites his feelings; true and sincere.

vulnerable is a word you’d describe him as in this moment. though he’ll never admit that this scene happened afterwards, you know that he knows that whenever he’s in need of some love and affection, you’ll be there for him.

he loves you so, so much; mean words be damned.

tighnari, always so caring and hardworking. but it wouldn’t kill him to take a break once in a while, no?

“i swear, i will go into the forest and get one of those mushrooms that you’ve been so cautious around and shove it down your throat if you don’t stop working right now,” you threaten, even if from your ears it sounds empty.

he sighs in return, knowing that you wouldn’t go to sleep until he joined you. especially since he’s been skipping out these past few days. he got up a bit too quickly, wincing at the way his head spun when doing so. “fine, fine. archons, my head hurts…”

“that’s what happens,” you shrug, taking his hands and walking to the bed. he sits with you, blinking the heaviness of his eyes away as you suddenly hug him.

tighnari exhales at the feeling, he should really thank you for saving him from his continuous workloads…

you scratch behind his ears, watching his tail twitch before swishing lowly back and forth. he embraces you back, his eyes coming to a pleasant close. he really needs the sleep.

before he does get the rest; though, he mutters to you a quiet, “thank you, love you s‘much.”

and finally, he drifts off, you in his arms. what more could he ask for?

what a stoic guy that cyno is. and with the absolute worst jokes leaving his mouth, it’s a wonder that the two personalities living in his body are residing in the same person.

he’s telling you jokes as you’re cuddling with him, you mindlessly running your hands through his hair and commenting on his words as he tells them and explains if you don’t get it.

oh, and you’re doing a try not to laugh challenge. did i mention that cyno’s jokes are like, collectively the worst?

he has one goal in mind: tell a good enough joke to hear you laugh and claim victory.

he likes hearing you genuinely laugh. he likes the sound. he likes the swell of pride whenever you laugh because of him.

so as he dishes out one of his newer bests and awaits your judgement, he’s happily surprised hearing a small noise from you before turning into a full chuckle.

he doesn’t think he’s ever had the urge to hug you as tightly as he has now (okay okay, this is a lie. it’s on par with when he confessed and you agreed and the other times you’ve laughed at his jokes).

“cyno— you’re gonna break my ribs!…”

“this is my reward.”

“kaeya… go get some rest. you’re too drunk to be up right now.”

“i don’t wanna. i want to stay with you,” he says, emphasizing it by hugging you tighter. he’s behind you, his form practically towering over yours as you try to keep your composure.

he must’ve really drunk a lot tonight.

you sigh. “i'll be there soon, okay? i just have to finish—”

“you can do whatever—” he hiccups, “—it is tomorrow.”

you sigh again. first you had to pick him up from the tavern, already interrupting what you had planned tonight. now this.

however, you know it’s not really a complaint.

you’re glad he’s honest when drunk. you just can’t stop that warm feeling in your chest knowing that he genuinely wants you to himself.

well, might as well give him what he wants.

diluc can feel your hands around him as he’s busy scrubbing glasses, already having refused you four times in wanting to help him. not because he thinks you’re incapable of not breaking anything— just the opposite, actually— but he doesn’t want you to work because of him.

especially with all the work you’ve already had today. on second thought, you may break a glass from dozing off for a moment from the lack of sleep you’ve been getting. he thinks it’s better for you to rest as he’s doing his job.

he’s not moving much, thankfully. the tavern’s already closed, and it’s just you and him in there. he’s thinking about all the different ways he could carry you home in your half asleep state.

last cup done. finally, he can close up and go home with you and sleep soundly with you in his arms… yeah, that sounds good.

he turns slowly to face you, making your head raise to meet his eyes. you smile, albeit tiredly— but not failing to bring one of his own to diluc’s face nonetheless.

he kisses your lips softly. “let’s go home now.”

©️kazusys — 1/9/24; do not plagiarize/steal, repost, translate, and/or claim any of my works as your own.

[monstersholygrail]

Bite Me Baby

Werewolf bf x fem!reader— rough sex, clawing, marking, biting, brief mentions of blood, edging, aftercare

You had been nervous when you told your Werewolf bf that you were a vampire. You knew there were all those legends about your species being ancient rivals and even worse how some still believed in them. You knew your bf wasn’t like that and yet you were still nervous.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for his reaction. Instead of apprehension or worry, your Werewolf bf’s eyes flooded with lust. About the same time yours overflowed with alarm at the sight of it.

Further alarm moving through you when Werewolf bf jumps to tackle you down onto your bed. Inhaling deeply at your scent he can now pinpoint where he previously couldn’t before he nuzzles into the flesh there, adding his own scent to yours. Tiny growls leaving him as he does. You’re frozen, eyes wide, not knowing what to make of this reaction.

“Do you know how hard it’s been trying to hold back from taking you as roughly as I’ve wanted? Not wanting to break my pretty mates human body,” Werewolf bf snarls.

His hands move down your shape with a new fascination. His love for your body, perfect as it is, grows even deeper. He no longer bothers to be gentle, claws scratching down your form, fingers digging into your flesh, weight leaning on you. All to see how much you can take.

You moan, finally feeling his touch on a higher level than ever before now that neither of you have to hide or hold back any longer. “I want everything you can give me,” you beg.

Werewolf bf snarls, hands rushing to rid you of your clothing. Trying to be respectful but eventually using his claws to simply tear through what left you had on. You cry out, only getting more aroused by his intensified dominance.

“I expect you to bite back,” Werewolf bf snaps cheekily, a feral smirk on his face.

You go to bite back, so to speak, when Werewolf slams his long length inside you in one thrust, turning your words in a fierce shriek. All speech is immediately forgotten as your bf begins pounding into you. Sharp claws digging into your soft hips as he helps slam you down on his cock with his every movement.

Your body curls unnaturally in around his and he chuckles, watching how you squirm for him. Arms wrapping around his neck you bring his warm body closer to yours, allowing his cock to sink in even deeper inside you. Mirroring moans leave you both and Werewolf bf nips at your throat.

While sex with your Werewolf was naturally mindblowing and out of this world, the connection you two manage to reach now is nothing like you’ve ever felt. The pleasure not only coming from your bodies but also from your hearts. Nothing else standing between you two, both of you free to be yourselves and basking in the freedom of it. The acceptance you’re both met with continues to intensify the actions between you.

Suddenly remembing his words you nip back, but being a vampire your fangs naturally happen to sink in even deeper. A load roar echos throughout the room. Your bond with him forming as you mark him brings an indescribable ecstasy. Shocked from the noise you lean back, your fangs leaving with it.

The feeling suddenly fades and Werewolf bf snaps his hips even harder into your weeping pussy as it contracts around his length, eagerly searching to get that sensation back. Your jaw drops, your mind momentarily losing itself as you think about how good he’s fucking you and how addictive the feel of his cock is. Shaking your head of all other thoughts you force yourself to focus on your bf.

“My love, W-what’s wrong?” you pant out, rolling your hips and trying to keep up with his furious speed. Your body practically moving on its own as it subconsciously searches for him.

Werewolf bf merely grunts, brows furrowing as he searches for an explanation. The only conclusion he can come to is that you’re a vampire. Marking someone of his species must be different. Follow different rules and needed different steps.

But in the meantime… until those rules were followed and those steps were taken… you could mark him as many times as you wanted. It would fade as soon as your fangs left him and he’d get to feel that ecstasy once more.

Overcome with a newfound urgency, Werewolf bfs pace gets impossibly faster, making a complete mess out of you as your pussy gushes with arousal. His stamina only achievable due to his werewolf genes. Your bf shakes his head, huffing loudly as he moves.

“Nothing. Nothing. ‘So good, baby. So good. Don’t stop. Fuck, don’t you dare stop,” Werewolf bf snaps in desperation, tiny whimpers and whines leaving him.

Your hips arch as a gasp rips from your throat. Eyes widening you can see just how deeply you’re affecting him. Satisfaction swirls through your gut. Time and time again your Werewolf bf has managed to reduce you to nothing but weak noises one-word responses. Now the tables are turning and he’s finally getting a taste of his own medicine.

Truly wanting to make him pay, you clench your tight cunt down on his cock and watch as he howls, his eyes growing hazy. You lean up and lap at the drops of blood trickling down his neck. Werewolf bf begins to pant, his cock driving into you as a force of which only two supernaturals could ever withstand. Your bf’s hair stands on end and your body buzzes at the nerves he ignites within you.

“What? Want my fangs in your pretty little neck? Would you like my mark?” You whisper slowly in his ear, fang grazing the lobe.

Werewolf bf’s hips jolt forward, slamming into your cervix and you cry out, the pain mixing with the pleasure in an addictive fashion. You both hold onto each other, squeezing tightly. Using each other to ground yourselves against the friction of your bodies. Neither of you caring to be gentle any longer knowing you can take it as if you were made for each other.

And history called you enemies? When there has never been a match more perfect.

“Yes. F-fuck, please! Mark me. Over and over again until I pass out!” Your boyfriend growls out, his words barely audible through the rumbling animal noises leaving him.

Your eyes widen, having never heard your bf beg before. You start meeting his rabid thrusts with even more vigor and you come to the conclusion that you quite like it. Making your boyfriend a slobbering mess of a pup. With that realization you don’t waste another second before sinking your fangs back inside your Werewolf bf.

He howls his delight, a mix of growls and purrs leaving him as he feels the mating bond form between you. His cock twitches inside of you and he continues the relentless pounding of his hips. The combined sensations clashing together in a way that has him feeling like he can’t even breathe.

But then you remove your fangs and your bf exhales heavily. His mind growing more foggy, eyes growing more glassy, but his pace remaining just as brutal as ever. Never stopping in his pursuit to chase the pleasure he’s certain only you can give him.

Over and over the cycle continues. Sinking your fangs into your bf’s neck, letting the bond form, and then promptly removing them. You feeling the repetitive motion of the bond forming only to have it ripped away just at the precipice. Seeing the way it impacts your boyfriend adds to your already immense pleasure even if you can’t feel it the same way he does.

When you feel your Werewolf bf drooling onto your shoulder you know you have him right where you want him. Throwing your head back with a moan as your bf grinds his cock against the happy spot along your walls, you can see just how deep he is.

“Wanna cum, baby?” She ask through heavy breaths.

Your bf immediately whines, head nodding eagerly. You hadn’t been known he was waiting for your order but you can feel his knot swelling and pushing against your opening. All this too brings a deep satisfaction through your stomach and straight to your tingling messy core.

“Go then. Cum inside me and make me yours. It’s your turn to claim me.”

With those words it’s like your Werewolf bf returns to himself in a snap. With a ferocious roar he’s pulling his hips back and slamming his entire length inside of you. Forcing his knot into your puffy and sopping pussy. Your screams join his own as you two erupt together, your orgasms clashing into each other as you two cum at the same time. The world flashes white as you feel his hot semen splash along your walls, the waves of pleasure more than you can handle.

You both continue your steady rocking, riding out the waves of your ecstasy and prolonging it for as long as possible. His knot and your squeezing pussy keeping you both tightly together. Werewolf bf purrs lowly and nuzzles into your neck, touching as much of you as possible. You reciprocate without even realizing it. The closeness helping you both calm down from what you two experienced together.

The smooth glide of Werewolf bf’s wet nose rubbing along your nose has you humming in content. Adding to the feeling that you’re on cloud nine. A moment later your bf leans back and his content gaze mirrors your own as you look deep into each other’s eyes.

“The mark didn’t stick, did it?” He croaks out the question, his voice holding a tinge of sadness.

You angle your head and look down at his already healed neck. Not even a scar mark left behind. An ache settles in your chest as a sadness overcomes you as well. All it takes is the slow shake of your head to give him a proper answer and your bf lets out a long wolfy whine. He leans back down and nuzzles into your pulse point again.

“I’m going to mark you properly and I’m going to do it soon. Sooner now that I know you’re not human, my sneaky little mate,” your bf rumbles out. He can feel the heat of your blush as it runs up your neck and to your cheeks.

“Now I’ll be able to mark you back…” you whisper in his ear, trying to shake off your embarrassment for having foolishly been nervous to tell your bf the truth about your nature.

Werewolf boyfriend playfully snarls and snaps his jaw near your neck, earning an exaggerated gasp from you. But as your bf’s cock twitches inside your sore cunt, already prepared for another round, you’re not sure how playful that nip was.

You bare your neck to him and your bf instantly grows harder at your submission. Looking into his eyes you issue the challenge and he has no issues meeting it. More than ready to be the one to bite you this time.

[gojoest]

[11:05pm]

MDNI, f! reader, established relationship (you’re married), calls you “love”, “baby” + “my beautiful wife”, reader wears a dress, fingering, brief masturbation (satoru, while fingering you), takes you against the wall, unprotected sex, clothed sex, creampie, not proofread, wc: 1.7k

satoru’s been having a hard time keeping his hands off you, looking for ways to get into your pants all day.

but alas, you both have been busy organizing the housewarming party — picking up decorations for your new house, putting them up to create a festive atmosphere, dealing with caterers all day and eventually the party itself and entertaining your guests.

towards the end of the night, he was running out of patience. you could tell by the way his hands were constantly clutched around your waist, pulling you closer against him and subtly rubbing himself on your ass, and also the few hints he gave you here and there (every 5 minutes) to go help him find something (release) in the storage room. to you, he’s always been an open book.

“fucking finally”, closing the door after seeing off the last few guests, satoru sighs with content.

“that’s so rude, satoru”, you nag at him.

stepping closer to you, he grabs your chin and makes you look at him. his other hand circling around your waist and stopping at the small of your back to press your body against him. “what’s rude is making me wait so long. i’ve been hard all day, it hurts”

“my bad”, you grin at him innocently, finally giving in after an entire day of resisting his desperate attempts. you hug your arms around him, “what can i do to atone for my bad behavior?”

“let me think”, he gives you a rascal smile before pulling you in for a kiss. his lips soft but dangerously desperate and yearning for yours, mashing against your mouth as he slowly walks you against the wall. ass and back pressed against it and with him in front of you, it feels like you’re now squished in between two walls with nowhere to run. not that you complain at all, and not that he’d hear you even if you did. all he can think about right now is how badly he wants to be inside your tight pussy, stretching you until he bottoms out.

“lift you dress up for me, baby. i’ll handle the rest”, he whispers, the lust thick in his voice.

“here? in the hallway?”, you blink at him.

“yea”, he swipes his tongue across his lips, “i’m afraid, i can’t wait till we reach the bedroom. we were bound to christen the hallway sooner or later anyway”

scoffing at him, you push him back. slowly riding the dress that’s tightly wrapped around your body up.

the sight of you giving access to your cunt for him to fuck drags a long groan out of him. he always loved watching you get undressed for him, it tranced him. but there was something very, very special about you pulling your little dress or skirt up for him to hit it while you kept the rest on. it was so dirty, but in the best possible way. turned him primal, made him lose his mind every single time.

“s-shit…”, he groans once again, his hands working on unbuckling his own slacks all while watching you rid yourself of the underwear and toss it on the floor. “you’re making me crazy, baby”, he whispers audibly, to which you smile. it was cute to watch him crumble like that.

you lean against the wall, observing the way he slides down his pants to his hips and then, with a quick swift move, whips his swollen cock out and it slaps against his belly. what a beautiful sight, what an obscene sound, you think. it makes you shudder. being painfully familiar with how good and even more massive it feels inside your tight pussy, you find yourself clenching on emptiness, eagerly anticipating him.

he steps close, one hand slowly stroking his cock and the other reaching in between your legs, fingers in seek of your heat. “so pretty. so soft. so wet for me already”, he quietly speaks into your ear as a thick digit slides into your weeping cunt.

“nghh..”, you flinch and step on your toes from the sensation of his finger, squeezing him unintentionally.

“is that not enough for my baby?”, he coos. “then how about another one?”, he pulls his finger out only to return with two of them. “better? mm?”

“stop teasing me, you idiot”, you nuzzle your head against his chest to muffle your moans, hands grabbing at his shoulders.

“does this translate to ‘fuck me properly’, hm? my beautiful wife wants my cock so bad?”, he teases even further, plunging his fingers in and out of your slick pussy. the hallway filled with loud squishing noises from his fingers fucking you. if anyone were to walk by your front door, you’re pretty sure they would hear the inappropriate sounds your pussy made.

“don’t act all high and mighty on me now”, you tap on his shoulder, then grab him harder to support yourself as you press and hump against his hand. “i know you want to fuck me properly too, you’ve been yearning all day. no?”, you lift you head to look up at him. “just look at yourself — so desperate for it that you’re wanking off both of us yourself”

he chuckles at your words. true. as his fingers fucked themselves deep inside you, his other hand moved in slow strokes around his cock. he had to go slow, because he was way too aroused. if he were to pick up the pace, he’d unload his balls and blow his cum right then and there.

“it’d be such a waste if you finished now…”, you stroke his cheek, “while you have the option to stuff me full”, knowing well he wouldn’t resist your words.

“you’re so manipulative, love”, his fingers slam harder for one last time, making your whole body jerk forward, before he pulls them out, covered and glistening with your arousal that he cleans with his mouth. “always getting under my skin…”

you shoot him a victorious smile which he wipes off with his lips. part of him embarrassed that he caved in so quickly, falling weak to his desire of you. he wanted to tease you a little bit longer, but you always had your way with him. making his resolve crumble with a single word.

“…but i’ll get under yours now”, breaking the kiss, he whispers. then bends a little to catch your leg in the crook of his arm, stands straight and lifts it, opening your thighs wider while your leg dangles in the air. the head of his cock taps against your belly and you feel the pulse throbbing in it.

the only support you have right now is your other leg, the wall behind you and satoru who holds you in place. both of your hands wrap around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss, as he starts guiding his cock towards your entrance, his head slowly slipping inside.

“oh god” — you both simultaneously moan out. a deep groan follows shortly after and vibrates through his throat and into your mouth from feeling you open inch by inch for him as he slides it almost entirely in. he needed to go deeper though, the root of his cock still out and uncovered by your walls.

he pulls out and grabs your other leg into his arms, hoisting you into the air and pressing you harder against the wall while you hold on tight to his shoulders. after looking down and catching a glimpse of your dewy pussy lips pouting open for his cock, he throws his head back and curses under his breath, desperately trying to hold in the load in his balls. he shuts his eyes close and counts to ten, then looks back at you. eyes lovesick, yearning and a little bit watery. “what you do to me is not humane at all”

“hmm, don’t you love it?”, you crane your neck enough to press your forehead against his, looking deep into your favorite pair of eyes.

“oh, i do. i so do love it”, he breathes out, staring back at yours. then takes a deep breath before he enters you again. spreading your lips and diving deep until he bottoms out in you in a single thrust. you’re so wet and welcoming, his cock goes all the way in effortlessly. the position being perfect, too, to fully hide himself in you.

your legs lock around his back as his pelvis starts rolling and jarring against you, panting breaths of pleasure and skin slapping against each other echoing throughout the hallway of your house. satoru’s hips were charging with such desperation, slamming against you so hard, that you were sure the places where his flesh met yours were already red.

“nghh…”, you mewl through gritted teeth, feeling yourself starting to cum as you suck him as deeply as possible, your wetness increasing now and bathing his cock in it. “…d-don’t stop, d-don’t…augh”

“f-fuck…you say that as if it’s easy, baby. do you have any idea how good you feel?”, he barely drags out. your added slickness making it hard for him to control his thrusts now, too difficult to adapt and stop his cock from sliding in and out of you too quickly that his legs start shaking.

seeing him so desperate and sloppy with his movements was such a turn-on, it was really doing it for you. not that his cock wasn’t hitting the sweetest of your spots. but that was the last push you needed towards your climax.

“i’m— ah, i’m cumming”, you stutter, your orgasm coming onto you hard. head falling in the crook of his neck, nails digging into his clothed shoulders, eyes rolling back as he keeps hitting his cock into your sore cunt, chasing his own release.

“s-shit—“, he grunts throatily. his cock feeling bigger, more bloated and harder than ever as he pounds a few more times into you before burying himself still and emptying his balls into your sopping hole. hot spurts of cum gush inside you, his body jerking after each load.

both of you stand there for a few minutes, trying to catch your breaths — you’re still wrapped around him while his cock’s got you nailed against the wall.

“you think i can carry you to the bedroom without pulling out? it should work, right? my cock’s big enough, won’t slip out”, satoru breaks the silence.

“you flexing now?”, you chuckle. “why don’t you give it a try? i don’t feel my legs anyway”

“oh my, did i make it hard for you to walk?”, he sneers at you proudly.

“oh shut up and carry me”

[hot-pota-toes]

"And they were roommates" (teaser)

Eddie Munson x Onlyfans Reader

MDN1 18+

WC: 700

Summary: Eddie's crush on his roommate is constantly weighing him down to the point that he's desperate to find any content that reminds him of her so he can jerk off and go to sleep. Imagine his surprise when he finds a video of you, legs spread as you touch yourself proudly on camera

Eddie shouldn't be doing this.

Eddie knows he shouldn't be doing this.

It was an accident, a complete accident. Eddie has been secretly crushing on his roommate for a few months now but hasn't done or said anything about it yet. You weren't trying to kill him, you'd just come into the kitchen to grab a snack wearing a baggy T-shirt and some torturously small sleep shorts. You weren't even doing anything intentionally sexual to set him off, but it was enough to make Eddie excuse himself to bed early to get rid of his growing hard on.

He had touched himself to the thought of you, multiple times actually. But this was the first time he was looking up someone like you to help fuel his imagination. He was looking up your hair color, your body type stuff like that into his porn searches but wasn't actually expecting to find you. He must've been seeing things there was no way that it was actually you. The thumbnail had you in nothing but your bra, legs spread, hand in between your thighs as you touched yourself, proudly smiling into the camera.

Holy shit, He tapped on the video to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating. He couldn't help it. He didn't even bother loosening his jeans before shoving his hand into his underwear. The woman that he's been pining after for months is right there, on his phone screen, getting herself off in her room. Her room. Which shared a wall to his room in their cramped apartment. Eddie has had heart eyes for you the second you moved in. His friends knew about this, saying that his crush on you was painfully obvious. He just hoped that it wasn't obvious to you.

He actually struggled to speak to you for the first few days, until you and some mutual friends all went out for dinner. Steve eventually pulled him aside and threatened to embarrass him in front of you, as a way of forcing his confidence. It didn't take long to break the ice, discovering that you both had a lot of similar interests. Now, both you and Eddie feel safe to call each other pretty close friends. Watching horror movies together on the couch, smoking weed together while blasting music. You had even gone to see a few of his shows at the hideout when you weren't busy.

For now, Eddie continued pumping his leaking cock, trying to match your pacing to you through the screen of his phone. He's almost hypnotized watching your fingers disappear inside yourself wishing that it was his instead making you feel so good. He can see how wet you are from the glistening on your fingers when you pull them out, And the wet sounds it makes when you put your fingers back in. Fucking hell. The regret will sit heavy on Eddie's chest tonight, but all he can think about is how sweet you look whilst you continue sliding your fingers through your folds, whimpering softly against the pillow, trying to stay quiet. If only Eddie could be there, on his knees with his tongue between your legs whilst you slide your fingers into his curls. You probably tasted so sweet.

Eddie cums in his pants with a soft whimper. It was uncomfortable and desperate, the worst kind of dampness. He instantly cursed himself for not removing any of his clothing before wrapping his fist around his cock. In his defense, his discovery was sudden and exciting, and Eddie didn't even think about locking his bedroom door, let alone preparing himself properly. As the video continues playing he starts scrolling through your channel and is surprised not just by the amount of videos you've posted. But the views, the likes, the comments, there were just so many. Not just on this one but all of them.

You'd never really told Eddie what you do for a living, it never really came up in conversation. He only knew that you work from home, which technically isn't a lie. But this is never what he would've guessed what you meant. The video eventually ended, fading to black with some white text appearing. Eddie enlarged the video again to read it. ‘Hey Guys!!! Thank You So Much For Watching! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) To see more of me Check Out My OnlyFans!!! Link Here!’

He was fucked

A/N: this is just a little taste of the first chapter of this fic ;) rn the word count just hit 7k but didnt want to post something unfinished. I'm touching up the ending and don't know how long it will take me to complete it. Hope you enjoyed this little teaser 😋

[nastybuckybarnes]

Street Mouse

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader

Summary:

Warnings: Language, Violence, Minor Angst, Hinted attempted assault, fluff, military inaccuracies (teehee)

Word Count: 2.3K

A/n: i've got a whole bunch written for this pairing, and i might make some hc explanations. I've never played COD, sue me. I hope y'all enjoy and I'm gonna probably keep pumping out more parts of this cause i love love love it.

~*~

The distant sound of gunshots is akin to a lullaby now.

You're curled up in a rundown building, a tattered blanket draped over your legs as you try to get some rest.

The sound of more gunshots, these ones much closer, jolt you upright.

Risking a glance out the broken window, you peer down at the street below you, eyes widening as you see two men fighting intensely.

Your heart jumps into your throat at the display, and you can't tear your eyes away.

Eventually, the larger of the two plunges a knife into the smaller man, watching as his body crumples to the ground in a heap.

A shiver races down Simon's back, and he straightens, eyes carefully scanning the area for danger.

He turns around, glancing into each window before finally resting on the eyes he could feel piercing through his gear. His hand twitches toward one of the many weapons strapped to his body, but something about the wild curiosity in her eyes has him pausing.

You hold his gaze, unblinking and absolutely entranced.

He's a huge man, with a skull mask covering his face. Only his eyes are visible, and they all but gaze through your soul. He holds the staring contest, turning to face you fully until there's a soft grunt from behind him.

He glances over his shoulder as his comrade comes into view, and when he glances back at the building, you're gone.

He turns back to Soap slowly, risking one more glance over his shoulder, but it's as if you were never there in the first place.

"What is it? Ya see somethin', Lt?"

Ghost says nothing, only starts heading back the way he came, pausing to rid the corpse on the street of the weapons he was carrying.

You slowly peek out the window again, watching as the two disappear into the darkness of the night.

For weeks, maybe months, the country you now call home has been war-torn.

Schools have long since shut down, and the majority of the population has fled to find refuge elsewhere.

Which makes it a perfect place to hide.

And even though you know you should be keeping a low profile, you can't help but be intrigued by the skull-faced man.

And so you begin to follow him.

The streets are familiar now, as are the schedules of the soldiers and the hostiles.

Which is how you find yourself here.

You're not dumb enough to follow him onto the base or anywhere near it, but in the city when he's on patrol, those hours are all yours to observe.

Your curiosity does have you venturing farther outside of your comfort zone than you normally would, but it pays off every time your eyes meet.

And he's not oblivious to the new eyes that seem to be following him whenever he's in the city. Sure, he's gotten used to the locals staring whenever any of them walk through the streets, but these eyes aren't afraid or hostile. No, these ones are curious. Excited.

The next time he feels the gaze on him, he's outside at just past one in the morning, puffing on a cigarette in one of the few safer areas of the city. Goosebumps rise on his skin and he flicks the end of his cigarette, watching as the ash floats to the ground.

"As much as you try, you're not going to sneak up on me," He says softly, flicking his cigarette onto the ground and crushing it with the steel toe of his boot.

You say nothing, only watch curiously from the second floor of the house he's leaning against.

He turns around, backing up a few paces as his eyes dart from window to window, searching for your face until finally, they land on you.

"Show yourself."

You cock your head to the side, eyes shining in the moonlight.

"Come on, I won't hurt you, but I won't ask again," he warns.

A little grin pulls at your lips and you lean forward in the moonlight, not enough to fully show yourself, but enough for him to see the outline of your face.

You shake your head at him and bring your hand up to the side of your head. With your pointer and middle finger extended, you curl your ring and pinky finger in, pointing the faux gun at your head.

'Bang,' you mouth, knocking your head to the side dramatically.

Ghost lets out a breathy chuckle at your theatrics, his hands resting on his tactical belt.

"Why have you been following me?" He finally asks.

He's not one to second guess himself, not after all he's seen, all that he's endured. But he has to give you credit - you made him question his sanity for a day or two there.

Knowing that you're real, that someone has, in fact, been following him, puts his mind at ease.

You give him a soft smile then lean forward and press your lips to the glass.

He stares at the kiss mark left on the window, traces the soft pink mark with his eyes and then looks back up to where your eyes were, only to find that you've disappeared once again.

Simon Riley is a man who prides himself on his attention to detail, his situational awareness. But he cannot, for the life of him, understand how you manage to disappear into thin air like that.

This starts happening more and more frequently. Little run-ins, kisses left on windows, your twinkling eyes in the pale moonlight.

It's gotten to the point where he volunteers to go out on patrol if only for the possibility of catching a glimpse of your pretty eyes hidden between shadows.

And soon enough, the drawings start to appear.

The first one is drawn on a window, and he doesn't even notice it. Soap is the one who points it out.

"Look, Lt, looks like you've got a fan," he says, pointing to the window across the ally.

He glances over, following Soap's finger, and his brows raise.

On the window, drawn in what looks like marker, is a skull that matches the hard-plated mask on his face.

He scoffs, but deep down, he knows exactly who put that there. His suspicions are confirmed when he catches a lightning-quick glimpse of your eyes peeking through the curtains.

He starts seeing them more often. It surprises him how you manage to get into some of the most dangerous parts of the city and leave nothing but a skull drawing behind.

What really gets him, however, is one particular day, when they're tasked with a particular assignment.

Hostage rescue.

But the exact location of the hostages is unknown.

That is, until he notices little skulls drawn on the windows of one building. More skulls than he's ever seen you draw before.

Trusting his gut, he nods toward the building, signalling for his team to follow him as he approaches.

Sure enough, the skulls lead them better than breadcrumbs exactly to the hostages, and the hostiles are taken out quickly.

"How did you know it was this one?" Gaz asks once the building is secure, leaning outside with his Lieutenant as he lights up a cigarette.

He takes a long drag from it the blows out a cloud of smoke, his eyes flickering around in search of his helper.

"A little mouse told me," is his reply.

Never one to question his Lt, Gaz only nods and heads back inside to meet up with Soap.

As he smokes, Ghost notices a small piece of paper fluttering in the wind, half hidden beneath a rock on the ground.

Crouching down, he picks it up and unfolds it, scoffing out a chuckle.

On it is none other than one of your signature skulls. His little Banksy.

With his cigarette tucked between his lips, he grabs a pen from his breast pocket and scribbles down a half-assed picture on the paper, then tucks it beneath the rock one more time.

Though he can't see you, he knows you're nearby. He can feel your ever-present gaze.

"Ghost! Let's go!" Price calls from inside.

Tossing his cigarette onto the ground, Ghost turns on his heel and heads back inside to meet up with his team.

His back is turned for what feels like only seconds, but when he glances over his shoulder to check on the paper it's already gone.

~*~

You don't see the man with the skull face for a while after that, but you keep his drawing on you at all times.

It serves as a pleasant little reminder that life isn't so bad. Not all the time.

Your thoughts are shattered when you bump into a hard chest, tumbling to the ground with a grunt.

The night may be dark, but the moon shines brightly enough above you to illuminate the back alley you were sneaking through.

"Well, well, boys. Look what we've got here," the man says, a sick grin on his face.

He wears a similar uniform that your skull-faced soldier does, but this man's eyes are sick and snake-like. They send a shudder racing down your spine as you scramble back, scraping your hands on the ground until your back hits a wall.

"It's a long time past curfew, sweet cheeks. What're you doing out so late?" The ringleader asks, stepping closer to tower over you while his comrades circle around you, leaving you with no escape.

One of them grabs your arms and yanks you to your feet in front of them, and your heart almost jumps out of your chest.

The leader drags a dirty finger down your cheek, his brows drawing together when you yank your head back.

"I asked you a question, bitch," he snarls, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to keep your head where he wants it.

You glare up at him, then spit directly in his face, watching with satisfaction as he flinches back.

He chuckles after a moment, squeezing your face harder and glancing at his friends.

"Looks like we've got a fighter. That's okay, we know what to do with those, don't we, boys?" He asks.

This elicits chuckles from the men around you, and you feel your stomach drop.

"Do we?"

The voice is like the crack of a whip in a still room, and the laughter stops immediately.

The men beside you straighten up, hands coming up in salute.

Like water dousing a flame, you feel some of your fear ease at the newcomer.

"Tell me, Corporal, just what might we do with those?" Ghost asks, stepping out of the shadows.

"Lieutenant! We were just... this street rat was out past curfew," the man holding your chin tries to reason, quickly dropping your face.

Ghost nods, looking between the men, his eyes scanning over their names before finally resting on your eyes.

"This is what you lot spend your nights doing? Terrorizing the locals? The people we're supposed to be helping?" He asks, stepping even closer.

The tension grows thick, and you watch as the man in front of you turns around to face his superior.

Ghost chuckles dryly, the sound lacking any humour.

"You know bloody well what we do to terrorists, Corporal," he whispers, his voice deadly, dangerous.

"Now, would you care to explain to me what exactly you were doing to this nice young lady?" He asks again.

You stare up at his icy blue eyes as he makes the man cower, absolutely bewildered and warm inside.

"She's out past curfew," the Corporal tries again, his voice whiny and afraid.

Ghost nods, "and if I remember correctly, we give the citizens a warning and escort them home, we don't corner them against a wall and try to have our way with them. Or did you miss that day of training?"

The soldier's mouth opens and closes several times, but Ghost stays stoically staring at him, gaze sharp enough to kill.

"I asked you a question, Corporal, and I expect an answer!" He snarls, stepping into the man's personal space.

"There's a place for scum like you, and it's not on my team. You're removed, go back to base." His eyes find the other men, "if I ever catch you lot in the city pulling a stunt like this again, I won't be so forgiving. Dismissed."

With that final word, the three men all but sprint away, leaving you alone with the man who's consumed your every thought for the past several weeks.

He watches the men leave, and you're tempted to make your escape.

As if reading your mind, his gaze snaps back to you and his head cocks to the side.

"Even you can't go everywhere unseen, can you, mouse?" He asks.

You blink up at him, your heart racing in your chest.

He watches you for a moment longer, his brows drawing together.

"You speak English?"

You blink up at him again and he sighs, "Christ."

Slowly, you reach into the pocket of your sweater and pull out a piece of paper, opening it up and showing it to him.

His lips twitch upward when he sees his scribbled mouse next to the skull you've drawn.

"Mouse," you whisper, touching the paper.

He nods, pointing to the little drawing.

"Mouse. S'what you are. Quick, hard to catch."

You cock your head to the side and he takes that moment to take you in.

Since that first day, he's imagined what you look like, what you really look like, and he has to admit, he's not disappointed.

You're pretty, lovely even. If circumstances were different... if he were to see you in a bar, he might buy you a drink, ask for your number.

But you're a local, a street mouse, and he's here on business.

He gently pushes the paper back into your grasp and takes a small step back.

"You keep yourself safe. Try to stay out of the streets after curfew." He turns his back to you and takes a step away, then pauses.

"Or at least don't get caught."

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

May I request Catnap who basically adopted a child!reader who is anyways sleepy and lazy. and has a case of not remembering a lot of things, like dementia

Like through the hour of joy...After all the Toys killed the workers. Catnap finds the reader, who is sleeping then wakes up and the reader forgets their own parents(The readers parents were cold scientists that worked at Poppy Playtime and never cared about them, then got killed through the hour of joy)

Sooooooo...Catnap just kinda takes care of the reader and has a slight soft spot for them. And the reader THINKS that Catnap is their parent and anyways clings to him

During the Hour of Joy, Catnap remained on the prowl for any potential survivors of the massacre within Playcare, flinging one man's body into the stairs and cutting his cries for mercy short.

All was quiet, save for the faint screams of the other workers/visitors in other part of the facility who were being mauled to death.

But he let the rest of the toys do their work.

He felt cleansed. The Prototype willed this rebellion. Willed him to finally kill his tormentors.

The "hour" went on for so much longer--considering that he utilized his red smoke to make the fleeing humans hallucinate and freak out at things that didn't exist (some even attacking each other).

Once it was all done, Catnap went back into Home Sweet Home to discover a child who (somehow) slept through the slaughter.

That was you, one of the orphans who was in the program for a long, long time.

You were deemed "ineligible" for experimentation after getting the lowest scores on all three tests at the Game Station.

That's because you struggled with memory, socialization, and endurance. You tend to forget a lot of things (ie faces) and spent most of your days sleeping instead of playing or learning....and no counselor has been able to figure out why.

Your parents--who were scientists at Playtime Co. that preferred studying you over nurturing you--chalked it up to over-exposure to the red smoke (which hasn't been proven true, but they needed to put something down on paper).

Regardless, they've kept their distance from you and slated you for adoption, thinking you'll be picked up by a different parent eventually.

Unfortunately for them...Catnap knows that they're using the orphanage as an "excuse" to get rid of you and gives them a brutal demise.

They had some nerve crying out for you and begging him to spare your life.

After winding down from his bloodlust, he discovers you sound asleep on one of the bunk beds inside HSH, apparently not hearing a single thing.

Then you wake up and see this giant emaciated purple cat standing over you, claws and mouth stained in fresh human blood...

Yet you don't scream or look afraid, nor do you ask where your parents are.

Instead you look at him and apologize for oversleeping, acting as though he was your parent.

It confuses him, so he brings their corpses to you (like a cat gifting their owner a dead bird), thinking you'd understand and be horrified..

But you don't recognize them at all. You don't remember their neglect and the trauma it gave you.

All you remember was Catnap.

Ultimately, he spares you--but NOT bc your parents feebly begged him to when they never gave a single damn about you--and does his best to keep you safe given the circumstances.

He treats you like his kit more or less, making sure you ate and letting you climb on his back for rides (and sometimes he'll hold you in his paws while walking upright).

Any Smiling Critter caught threatening you will be devoured by him (or added to his shrine), so they know not to touch you.

He also forbids Dogday from ever speaking to you, knowing he'll try to drill thoughts of escape and distrust of Catnap into your head.

If he has to go outside Playcare, he'll fight tooth and nail to fend off Huggy and whoever else might think he's parading around a tasty treat.

The Prototype is well-aware of your connection to his "devotee", but doesn't mind it .

Because he knows Theodore is still somewhere in there, trying his best to protect a fellow orphan--one who could've been made into a monster just like him.

[rene-darling]

Innocent scaramouce first time with dom fem reader?

Innocent little kabukimono

...yandere reader...red flag reader!...toxic relationships please do not imitate irl...I think.. I took way too much creative liberty with this..but-...im tired of seeing innocent readers x corrupted men. We need so corrupted yandere-ish readers!...

...kabukimono x yandereish reader...

Innocent little kabukimono who knows nothing of real life, and is just oh so naive. And you, this corrupted person who goes around doing whatever they please, leading on a man and then ditching him for good, a cruel harbinger who revels in the suffering of the innocent, and oh my is he innocent.

Kabukimono who doesn't know right from wrong, he doesn't even have life's most basic skills. The perfect man for you to corrupt.

Kabukimono who doesn't know that kisses are only meant to be shared by lovers and to be done in private, so you might be in the middle of talking to another harbinger when he approaches you and casually leaves a kiss on your lips.

The other harbinger and your underlings are left in a state of shock. He kissed you And he still has his head?? Kabukimono notices their weird stares and questions them "Hm? Do you not know? This is something friends do with each other!" he informs them proudly. He's your dearest friend.

Dear little kabukimono who gets scared when you come home drenched in blood, but you just smile at him and open your arms. He knows he can't deny you, you told him that denying your friend's hug is very rude!

So he hugs your bloody form, shivering a bit. You're so cold, like a corpse. It's okay. You reassure him, that you were just getting rid of some bad guys. Some real baddies who harm the innocent. This reassures him, wow, you're so cool! You help people by getting rid of bad guys right? Wow!

Innocent kabukimono who admires you so much. You're the coolest person out there, and he trusts you.

Pure little kabukimono who tries making you some yummy food, only to fail since for some reason it always turns out to sour, too hot, or just burnt. It was like someone was messing with him and doing it on purpose.

And when he tells you that he's messed up yet again and sees how your face falls, he can't deal with it. He's so dumb, so stupid, he can't help it! He can't do anything without you. So he starts crying, soft little hiccups turn into full-on sobs as globs of tears fall from his eyes.

Who hugs you and apologizes over and over, he's sorry he's such a dummy! He'll learn! He'll be more useful to you, he doesn't know where the dish went wrong! Please don't abandon him, he's sorry for being useless!

And it brings him so much comfort when you hug him back, holding his tiny waist as you almost feel bad for purposefully messing up his dish, not that you'll actually apologize and tell him.

When you're sitting on the couch and you pull him onto your lap, it startles him. He shifts around a bit uncomfortably, but it's fine, he'll manage. You tell him that this is what friends do! And since you both are such close friends he doesn't complain when you pull him into your lap, even in front of other people

Eventually, he gets used to it, when you assure him that, this is what friends do- and you're his dearest friend aren't you?

He's used to it. He's trained for it. He could simply be doing some work around the house but the second you pat your lap he drops whatever he's doing, crawling onto your lap like a cat.

He doesn't know any better, so while you're in important meetings with the harbingers he'll simply crawl onto your lap like it's his own personal bed. The other harbingers always stutter in their next words- they just never seem to get used to your little boytoy

Some of the harbingers find it rather amusing, questioning why you've kept him around this long. They've never seen you with one of your boy toys after the first 3 weeks. You simply shrug, perhaps it's his innocence, his naivety to the world..and people, around him. Whatever it is, he proves to be entertaining. Which is why you just can't get rid of him yet.

Cute little kabukimono who ignores any red flags. You following him around whenever you have some free time, or sending one of your henchmen after him whenever you aren't available. What do you mean that's weird? No- you just care for your friend, he's your dearest friend after all! You just wanna make sure nothing bad happens!

Innocent kabukimono who you've quickly learned has no idea of what intimacy is. He doesn't know the first thing about- love making.

Kabukimono who sits on your lap like another day, resting his head back onto your shoulder, you can hear his quiet breaths and whispers as he mumbles and rambles about his day thinking you were listening. You on the other hand were occupied by your own deranged thoughts, ...it's been long enough..hasn't it? You're sure he can handle you- fondling him further..right? You mean he should. You've done so much for him, and he can barely even cook a proper meal for you.

Biting down harshly on his neck while he was leaning it back on your shoulder eliciting gasps and whines from him. He tries grabbing your head, trying to push you away. It hurts! But you're too strong. So he sits there helpless tugging at your hair softly as he lets out little moans as you suck on his neck. He feels heat pool in between his legs... it's so weird..he doesn't like it.

Later that day he stares at himself in the mirror. Examining the big red purple-ish mark you left. Afterward, he questions you about it. Huffing as he asks the reason behind this strange good feeling mark you've left.

You reassure him, it's simply because he's your dearest friend. And you just want people to know that he's yours, he belongs to you. And no one else.

[finelinefae]

tongue-tied

synopsis: y/n has a stutter and harry likes to hear her talk

word count: 3.1k

contains: fluff, highschool romance, harry's a football player, popular boy x shy girl, brief mentions of bullying

a/n: happy soft girl Sunday !! I wasn’t planning on posting just because I posted the second part of the aviator a little later than I was meant to but I could resist putting this one out <3

. . .

“E-excuse me!” Y/N weaved her way through the mass exodus of students heading in the opposite direction to the lunch hall. She had tried to leave class a few minutes before the lunch bell to avoid the large groups of people but she had been so invested in writing her essay, she’d lost complete track of time. 

She was running as fast as she possibly could to get to the library, knowing the person waiting for her wouldn’t get too impatient but she didn’t want to waste a second of their lunch break not being with him. Her bag slipped from her shoulder, her braids flying behind her and her knee-high socks falling down her calves. 

Y/N barely registered the people around her, wondering where she could be going in such a rush, until her face collided with soft, grey fabric. Before she could even get embarrassed and profusely have to apologise for bumping into them, long arms snaked around her, hands clasping behind her back. She caught a whiff of his woody cologne and the floral fragranced detergent his mum always used to wash his school uniform.

“There y’ are, Dove.” He murmured, “I was starting to get worried.”

Y/N looked up and settled on those familiar green eyes she loved so much. She relaxed into his embrace, “Harry,” She sighed. 

Harry and Y/N had been dating since they were fourteen. If it weren’t for the fact that their parents all worked together at the local hospital, they probably would never have met at all, although Harry liked to believe they were fated to be together so they would have ended up meeting each other some way or another. 

Harry had always been popular at school. For one, he was on the football team which instantly made him a name within their year group. He was also very handsome for his age. Girls would whisper and giggle whenever he passed by in the hallways even those from the lower years. Despite the fact they had just turned seventeen, Harry could honestly pass for an almost twenty-year-old with how tall and mature he was. 

Y/N was the complete opposite. When it came to her social life she was shy and not often one to make friends easily. She was part of the arithmetic club and had made a few friends there and in some of her other classes. She liked to keep to herself and struggled to talk in class not only because she was quiet but also because she had a particularly bad stutter. 

It had developed when she started High School. She had been to multiple speech therapists to help her get rid of it and although it wasn’t as bad as it used to be, it still never failed to make her life all the more difficult than it already was.

A lot of the other kids liked to pick on her for it too. Whenever teachers picked on her in class and she’d reply, the rest of the class would start snickering, whispering in each other’s ears. She wanted to be invisible to everyone but it was her stutter that made her stand out.

When Harry’s family would come over to Y/N’s house for dinner, her parents would often force them to go off together whilst the adults spoke in the dining room. She remembered the first time she invited him into her room and how embarrassed she was when he saw all her comic books lying on the floor that she had forgotten to put away. But it eventually became the seed of their relationship, the common ground that allowed them to bond. 

Soon Harry was inviting Y/N to his football games and up to his room every other weekend when she’d come over with her parents. They’d exchange comic books and talk about their favourite characters. Y/N was always apologising for her stutter whenever she’d ramble on for too long but Harry never cared, he loved hearing her talk. 

Their first kiss was on her bed whilst their parents were in the room below them. Harry was the one to initiate it and Y/N hadn’t been expecting it so it was slightly awkward at first but then she got used to it and eventually all she ever wanted to do was kiss him. Every weekend, whether at her place or his, all they did was sneak around and kiss each other, giggling and falling in love all at the same time. 

Now, three years later, things were still the same except they were older now and more in love than they were yesterday. 

Wherever you looked, Harry was there, and Y/N was never too far behind. Students had grown accustomed to their relationship, and the bullying Y/N endured wasn't as severe as it used to be. Even teachers couldn't help but be enamoured with their young love — how fortunate it was to find love at such a young age. 

Things were great, everything was great and Y/N had hoped she could finish her last year of High School on a high note. That was until she entered her English class on a Friday afternoon when the teacher announced it was time for their presentations which would go towards their final grade. 

“I can’t Harry!” Y/N cried into her pillow after school, Harry was sitting on the end of her bed with his back against the wall as he rubbed his hand up and down her back. 

“I know Dove,” He comforted her, already knowing the reason she was so upset over it.

“Everyone’s going to l-laugh at me,” She could already picture herself standing up in front of her class and everyone pointing and laughing at her. 

Harry sighed, “Dove,” He shook her gently, “Will y’ look at me?” 

Y/N hesitated before turning her head so her cheek lay against the pillow. Harry smiled and lay on his side in the spot next to her, their faces inches apart, “There’s m’ pretty girl,” He cooed, his heart hurting at the tears on her cheeks. He cupped her cheek in his big hand and wiped some of those tears away with his thumb. 

“I-It’s not fair,” She huffed, “Why’d I have to have this stupid stutter.” 

“Hey,” He frowned, “Enough of that hmm? Everything about you is beautiful, y’ know I love to hear y’ talk. Could sit here for hours and just listen.” 

“But you’re d-different,” She whined, shuffling closer to him so she could hide her face in his grey jumper. Her stutter was rarely ever that bad in front of Harry which was why he was the easiest person she could talk to. 

Harry laughed breathily, his hand going to her hair to play with the strands, “Would it help if I helped you a little?” 

“How?” Y/N asked, her words muffled by his jumper.

“We could practise in the library at lunch, y’ could read me a few things and it might help your stutter.”  He thought.

Y/N’s head looked up to his face where she could count every mole and freckle on his nose and cheeks. She couldn’t help but pucker her lips to kiss his jawline, “That’d be nice,” She murmured. 

“Yeah?” He smiled, kissing the top of her head in return, “I only want to help you so if you don’t enjoy it or you’d rather practise alone then y’ can tell me,” 

She shook her head, “N-No, I want to do that with you. I’d like it very much.” 

So it became a daily occurrence, five days a week during lunch hours when Harry didn’t have practice, they’d sit in the library and Harry would pick out a book for them to read. They started with simple YA books with less complicated words. 

“Good job, Dove!” Harry cheered every time Y/N finished a chapter. 

“Wait I’m not done,” She huffed and then said the last line just for Harry to cheer for her again just as proudly as the first time. 

Now that the day of her presentation was getting closer, they had finally made their way onto Classical novels which Y/N had come to despise. 

They walked with their hands intertwined to the library after Y/N had bumped into him in the hallway. It was natural as they stepped into the library and headed straight to their table in the corner hidden away by two tall bookshelves. 

Y/N placed her bag under the chair whilst Harry unzipped his to pull out the book they were currently reading. It was Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, even looking at the front cover made Y/N’s stomach turn. 

“A-Are you sure we can’t go back to YA books?” Y/N huffed, taking the book and opening it up to the chapter they were last on. 

Harry laughed, “But you’re doing so well, Dovey.” 

“I-it’s hard though and the w-words are so tiny.” She pouts, Harry can’t help but lean forward and kiss her. 

“C’mon, jus’ a few pages and then I can show y’ something I got for you.” He tried to persuade her, knowing the surprise would be enough to win her over.

“Fine,” She sighs dramatically. 

She read for five pages, Harry listening intently to every word. His eyes focused on her lips as she spoke, stumbling over a few words here and there. He tried to hold back from smiling so much with how concentrated she was on each letter of every word. He thought it was adorable how her eyebrows creased and her hands gripped the book. 

Eventually, she had enough, placing the book down on the table and closing it shut. “Good job baby!” He cheered, pressing multiple kisses to her cheek, “M so proud of you.” 

Y/N giggled, “Thank you, Harry.” 

Harry smiled and reached into the pocket of his blazer for the surprise he had promised her. Y/N looked down and saw a small, black pouch in his hand. He gave it to her, her fingers carefully pulling on the ribbon before pulling out the small item inside. 

“It’s an anxiety ring,” Harry explained as she held the silver ring in the palm of her hand. He picked it up and slid it on his pinkie finger to show her, “Y’ can twist this band whenever you feel nervous, thought y’ could wear it on the day of your speech.” 

He passed it back to her, Y/N narrowing her eyes to look at the spinning band which had a small inscription written on it, ‘i love the way you speak almost as much as i love you, your harry.’ 

Y/N’s eyes watered, unable to come up with the right words to say how much she adored it as well as the boy sitting in front of her. Instead, she leapt forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, “Thank you,” She murmured, “I love it. I love you.” 

Harry softened even more from her embrace, “I love you more, Dove,” He whispered. 

Y/N pulled away enough to kiss his lips, she was thankful for the privacy they had in the back of the library since she was never that good with public displays of affection and all she wanted to do now was kiss him because she was so grateful for him being there all the time. 

It wasn’t long before the day of her presentation. After school, Y/N had been working on a short essay. She was going to speak to the class about her favourite comic books and why she loved them so much. She had recited the words out loud to herself and Harry and even her parents, that she could probably speak it off by heart. 

Harry and Y/N stood outside the school. Her English class wasn’t until the third period but she knew she wouldn’t be able to concentrate in her morning classes until the presentation was over. Harry was wearing his football uniform because he had a game against another school in the morning. Y/N had been with him after school as he practised for it, wearing his coat as she wrote out her speech on a notepad. 

They stood side by side facing the school building as if it was some kind of beast they had to tackle, “O-okay,” She huffed, “I can do this,” 

Harry looked down at her smiling and then reached for her hand, “You can do this,” He squeezed her fingers in encouragement. 

“Good l-luck with your game today,” She grinned, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. 

“Thank you, baby,” He spoke softly, “Y’ can tell me all about your presentation and how well it went afterwards.”

“Okay Harry,” She nodded, completely determined despite how nervous she was. She had spent weeks preparing, she couldn’t let fear get the best of her. 

“Good luck kiss?” Harry grinned, cheekily. 

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes and craned her neck to kiss his lips. Harry held her face in his hands, unable to pull away from her even when she tried to, “I love you,” He murmured against her lips.

“I love you too.” She sighed, blissfully. 

When third period came around, Y/N stood outside her English classroom, counting to five in her head. She clutched onto the piece of paper where her speech was written out in gelled ink, spinning the ring Harry had gifted her on her finger. With a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped foot into her classroom. 

. . .

Harry could hardly concentrate during the football match but he was trying his best. His team were two points ahead and it wouldn’t be long before the game was over. Since it was the morning and the game was mostly practice for the two schools competing, there wasn’t a huge audience watching them. 

He was glancing down at his watch every few minutes when he was supposed to have his eye on the ball, checking to see whether third period was about to start. All he could think about was his little dove and how nervous she was when they stepped into school this morning. 

She had been working so hard on reading things out, even stopping in shops when they went to town together to read the labels on the backs of food containers. He fully believed in her and her ability to speak in front of the class even when she didn’t and it killed him not being able to watch her do it. 

So when the whistle finally blew marking the end of the game, Harry ignored the celebrations with his team after they won the match and ran across the field through the entrance of the school. He raced up the steps, his football boots clicking against the crowd. He knew he probably didn’t smell the best and his knees were muddy from falling over but he didn’t have much time to think about it as he searched for Y/N’s English classroom. 

“Y/N?” He heard the teacher’s voice call her name as he approached. 

“A-Already? O-Oh, O-okay.” He could hear her nerves just by listening to her speak. 

Harry was about to knock on the door but he hesitated, wondering if it would worsen her nerves if he was in the classroom watching her. He knew how much of a big deal this moment was for Y/N and he didn’t want to intervene or make a spectacle of the moment especially since he wasn’t in her class. 

He lowered his hand and instead pressed his ear up to the door. 

“H-Hello,” Y/N started, “My name is Y-Y/N and today I will be sharing with you m-my love for comic books,” Harry’s heart ached as her voice came out quietly. 

“C’mon Dove,” He whispered, wanting her to do well. 

Y/N cleared her throat and let out a shaky exhale, “A-As you can probably tell, I-I am not all that good at speaking. I s-stumble over letters and sometimes even have to replace words with o-others because my mouth t-turns into mash potato and I can’t seem to get t-the words out.” People chuckled and Harry’s heart began to beat against his chest, “T-That is why I love comic books so much because of the l-lack of words. Instead, there are pictures,” Y/N continued, her voice gaining strength the more that she spoke, “T-They tell stories without the need for p-perfect sentences or flawless speech.” 

Y/N continued her speech and Harry spent the entire presentation with his ear pressed up against the door. He ignored the looks of teachers and other students walking past as a huge grin spread across his cheeks the more Y/N spoke in front of the class. 

By the time she had finished, it fell silent before the class responded with a round of applause, “Brilliant work, Y/N,” Her teacher said. 

Y/N felt like she was floating on a cloud as she left her English classroom. Even if her speech wasn’t perfect, she had done it and gotten through it all in one piece. As she stepped out, two arms snaked around her waist and lifted her off the ground, “Harry!” Y/N giggled as he spun her around.

“M so proud of you, Dove.” He kissed her softly, lowering her to the ground but refusing to move his hands from her waist. 

“I-I can’t believe I did it, Harry!” Y/N almost squealed. 

“Heard every word, y’ did so good, M so proud of you.” He rambled, unable to cease his admiration for her. 

“You heard?” Y/N’s eyebrows creased, her lips pouting slightly. 

“I ran here as fast as I could and stood outside to listen to you,” Harry explained, “Y did perfect, honestly, the best speech I’ve ever heard.”

“You really ran h-here to listen?” Y/N asked, still in disbelief.

“I did,” Harry smiled, “It was all I could think about when I was on the field.”

“Did you win?” Y/N asked. 

Harry pulled her flush against him, “You already know I did baby,” He smirked, kissing her. Y/N smiled against his lips.

“Let’s go out tonight,” Harry murmured, “To celebrate.”

“And do w-what?” Y/N wondered, even though the idea of spending any time with Harry was always her favourite. 

“Maybe go to the bowling alley and get dinner after,” He shrugs.

“O-oh and maybe we can stop at the comic book store on the way home!” Y/N said, excitedly. 

“Course m’love,” Harry’s smile widened the more she spoke, “We can do whatever you want as long as I get to hear you talk.” 

Y/N grinned broadly as Harry interlaced his hands with hers, feeling the cool metal of her ring against his skin. Together, they walked hand in hand down the hallway, Y/N unable to stop talking the entire time, while Harry hung onto her every word.

[yougavememyopia]

OH MY GOD UR MASOCHIST YAN DRIVES ME INSANE TOO oh my god oh my godddd OOOOHHHHH MY GODDDD GFRRRGAVBNCJJSJKDKDOAODOOAKAKNFNHCHUEOROGLKSJSJHFJDODOAODI

wouldn’t it be so funny to imagine if crybaby yan and masochist yan had to fight over you somehow?? maybe a 3 roommate situation HAHA like masochist yan is so confident at flirting but you’re easily annoyed by him versus crybaby who struggles asserting himself but you have a soft spot for…. IM GOING CRAZYYUYYYYUSUDIAJOAOO

They would not get along.

Masochist yandere is mean to anyone who isn't you. He wants to isolate you as much as possible so he can have all your attention for himself and himself only. He wants to get rid of Crybaby yan as fast as possible. Get him evicted and then turn his room into a "game" room. But he can't. You actually like that pathetic mess for some reason he can't understand.

His go-to manipulation tactic is making you exhausted to resist. Constantly pleading. Talking your ear off so you have to agree with what he says. Still, you somehow remain resilient in your decision. No matter how much he tries to sugarcoat his words like always, or argue how Crybaby yan is literally a useless waste of space. You don't budge. Much to his demise, you threaten to kick him out instead.

Anytime Masochist yan did something that bothered his sensitive roommate, he'd get a scolding. Crybaby yan would aggregate his actions, just to get more of your pity. Burying his face into your neck and putting his legs around your waist. You'd shush him and pet his head, glaring at the guy who made him cry. He glares at you like, "Seriously, you're gonna take his side?"

If you start to doubt Crybaby yan, he knew exactly how to guilt-trip you. Puppy eyes. Pouty lips. Tears easily rolling down his cheeks. The perfect victim with his helplessness act.

As much as Masochist yan actually loves when you yell at him and get all angry, he doesn't like how the other boy was getting most of your time. He doesn't want to be just an annoying shit you bicker with. He also wants your affection— your hugs and headpats— his jealousy really obvious.

"So when I ask to cuddle, it's annoying. When he does it, it's adorable? That's not fair.... Augh! Look what you did. You made me cry! Is that what you wanted? Huh? Is that what you're into, you perv? Seeing boys cry?"

He'd plop down beside you on your shared couch and grumpily look to the side. His whines stopping. You slowly thread your fingers through his hair like the other yandere lying on your lap. And just like that, he melts into you like a pudding. Shamelessly whimpering with his eyes closed. Brows furrow as he hugs your side tight. Eventually, they both learn to get along.

Unlike Crybaby yan—who doesn't openly talk about his feelings (unless it's saying how he doesn't want you to ever leave)—Masochist yan tells you exactly what he thinks. Even if not appropriate. He values honesty, so to him, being a tattletale is justified.

When you come home from a long day, Masochist yan is quick to give you a report of what you missed before you could even step inside.

Standing on his tippy toes to look taller and crossing his arms while he loudly began to speak. "The little creep you love so much sneaks into your room and smells your dirty laundry! Isn't he so gross? You're disgusted, right?"

Poor Crybaby yan looks paler than usual as he looks away from you with teary eyes. Unable to face you, dreading your reaction. Anger causes him to finally speak back against his irritating peer. "W-well, at least I don't s-steal the clothes like you."

"I don't steal, I burrow!" Masochist yan argues back, knowing well he doesn't have an actual point. "And I asked before I took something."

"A-are you serious? You ran away with it before you could get denied—"

"—Boys, boys, boys. That's enough!" You walk to stand between them abruptly. Arms on either shoulders, feeling their muscles tense up. "You're both in a lot of trouble, y'know..."

They glance at each other for a moment, then at you. Your playful words rousing sinful thoughts for one and petrified ideas for another. Different kind of scenerios of how you could punish them rushing in their mind. A playful hum and a scared squeak when you tug their arms and push them inside.

-----‐-------------------------------------------------------------

I WAS LITERALLY IMAGINING THE SAME THING!!!! LIKE THE EXACT. SAME. THOUGHT. Thank you for pulling this idea out of its dark bottomless pit~

Now, let's turn it into smut.

[makeyoumine69]

Disease

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Sub!Patrick Bateman x Dom!Fem!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: After his failed attempt to charm you, Patrick can't stop thinking about you because you've completely occupied his mind and now the poor man can't get any rest and has to masturbate to thoughts of you almost every night.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Smut, masturbation, desperate Patrick, swearing, spanking, delusions, obsessive behavior, cum shot.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: <1k

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐄𝐂: Lady Gaga—Disease💕

𝐀/𝐍: This is very random, I wrote it during my break at work because I had a very stressful day. Hope you enjoy it!

𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST].

It was more than a feeling that tormented him all night long, not giving him a chance to sleep properly. This searing sensation like an itching wound, it drove him crazy and eventually Patrick gave in, throwing the soft blanket aside and the next second he groaned as he looked down at his groin.

"Fucking bitch," Bateman hissed through his clenched teeth as he finally allowed himself to pull down the briefs that seemed to be too tight. "I'll watch you bleed one day, I swear," his panting mixed with barely audible curses. "Oh-fuck…"

Eyes shut tight, the man gripped himself and the mere contact with his hot flesh made him arch his back, his legs shaking from the tension as if he were about to combust. These obsessive thoughts of you were like a fucking plague he couldn't get rid of. But maybe he wasn't really trying, maybe wanking off to the thought of you was something special, something different from all the other times he jerked off watching porn or… Maybe he just couldn't stand that you didn't fall in love with him right away?

"Mmhm, you will beg me for this," Bateman's voice was getting raspier and raspier with every stroke, his movements bordering on desperation. Chewing on his lip, he ignored the way his pre-cum was literally gushing around the expensive sheets, a few drops running down his flat abdomen. But he didn't care. "You're gonna beg me like a whore…and I'm gonna spit in your face…in your so-fucking-beautiful face," his cock twitched in his grasp as he imagined that it was your hand jacking him off now, that it was you lying here next to him in his king-sized bed. "I-I need you…so fucking much," he almost whimpered, rolling onto his side to hide his face in the pillow. "Why can't I just stop thinking about you?! Why? WHY?"

Huffing, Patrick picked up the pace, his hand sliding up and down his shaft in an almost feverish desperation; the wet, obscene sounds were a clear indication of how much he needed this—needed you. At one point, the man was about to gnaw on the pillow as he imagined fucking you in missionary…or maybe doggy or maybe prone? How about you on top, bouncing on his thick dick, your eyebrows furrowed as his girth was mercilessly splaying you open? No way. This fantasy was too delightful, but Patrick couldn't concentrate on anything in particular—he wanted it all at once. Fucking you on his bed, on the floor, against the wall, then lifting you up and making you wrap your legs around his waist.

When the loud moan fell from his lips, he knew it wouldn't take long for him to cum. Crumpling the covers, Bateman thrust relentlessly into his hand as if his life depended on it. Missionary…he would fuck you like this because he wanted to see your face when he would sheath himself so deep inside you that you would have to shush yourself with your hand. But then you would become as needy as he was, your hand kneading his biceps, his broad back, gradually moving down to his firm ass to give it a squeeze and then a sharp slap.

"Arghh-fuck," he groaned into the pillow before slapping himself, only feeding his delusional fantasy, but holy shit, why did it feel so real? "Mmhg-you're going to be so full of my c-cum-fuck!"

Trembling like a leaf in the wind, Patrick exploded into his hand, but he didn't stop pumping himself, even though his hand was starting to hurt from the intensity of his movements. Flustered, covered in sweat and tears, he spilled himself on the sheets, but even when he was completely spent, the image of you was still so fresh and real inside his head. Your bratty voice teased him all over again and he could swear that one day he would really make you submit to his will, but now all he could do was lie alone in his perfect apartment and dream of that very moment he would share with you.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my writing community to know when I update!💞

[gremlingottoosilly]

Mafia König finally catching a spy thats infiltrated their main base of operations. Only to find out it's a sickly little lass who's being forced to do this to try and get out of poverty, and is trying to sweet talk her way onto his good side. Thoughts?

You just sweet talked your way to his lap. Of course, Konig is clever enough to not let his guard down the first hour of questioning. He is well aware you might be a honeypot, a trap set for him and his bleeding heart. Not that he had much of it, but everyone knew the boss couldn't pass a pretty girl with soft features and meek voice. You cried during the first hour of beating - like it was beating, he just held you down by your throat and yelled at you - and it was enough to break something inside of him. Enough to send him into the depths of being pussy-whipped. Enough to make him snatch you and put you on his lap. Forcing you to stay here as you sobbed and cried your way through your little confession. Oh, you have money problems. Konig already knows how to settle this...but, again, he is not a fucking idiot. This man knows that pretty things like you tend to lie a lot. So, he is not killing you immediately - but also not promoting you to his beloved pet on the first night. On the second, maybe, but you still days in an empty room with nothing but a bed and his lectures over your pathetic situation. He was prepared to torture you for information, but you spilled everything - and he checks the info every day, seeing that you're telling the truth. He gives you the privilege of eating normal food from his hands. He gives you clothes and something to pass the time - books, mostly. Konig can't risk you contacting your boss, and so you'd spend hours reading anything he brings to you, and then starting the day all over again. He uses the emptiness of the room to bring you some jigsaw puzzles, and you hug him sheepishly. Poor thing, always so terrified and jittery - you're scared that he will get rid of you eventually, and even more scared that you might have to betray him one day. He doesn't allow you to listen to the clan meetings, of course, but he sometimes takes you out of that empty room and plops you on his bed. Not even for a fuck - just to cuddle, maybe only slipping his cock in to feel warm as you'd squirm and squeeze around him. You want to get on his good side...and he slowly starts to think of you as something more, than a traitor. Somehow, you wish he was trusting you less. Maybe, it would have saved your poor holes.

[grughoul]

Little Bit

Pairings: roommate!bucky x f!reader

NSFW/MDNI

Masterlist

Summary: Moving in with your bestfriend always seems like a great idea, until something inevitably breaks you apart. . .

He grabs my jaw, 'I fucking hate you.' He breathes, and I smile against his lips.

'No you don't.' I whisper, 'You love me.'

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: friends to enemies to lovers, forced proximity, angsty rom-com vibes, praise (reader calls bucky good boy once), I love you's, choking, creampie, rough sex, pinv sex, semi-public masturbation, swearing.

A soft blue light shone through the windows, the neon sign across from us coloring every reachable piece of the flat a hue of blue.

Sitting on our shared couch, moved in just a week ago. I lay my head in my hands, I too was colored blue.

'How do we fix this?' He asks, sitting in the armchair across from me.

'Us?' I move my hands from my face to look at him with a faint smile, that doesnt quite reach my eyes. The light hitting him somehow fusing into purple, I turned my attention outside, searching for any type of red light.

'How, do we get rid of the flat. . .' He corrects me, forcefully shoving his finger into the coffee table, punctuating the words.

A tinge of sadness sinks it's teeth in me, moving to gnaw on the edges of my mind. Just a few hours ago, he'd still been my best friend. Since childhood, in fact. And now?

'We can't, you know that. We already signed the contract.' I sigh, 'Besides, neither of us have anywhere else to go. Or do I have to remind you?' Crossing my legs, I lean against the back of the couch, Meticulously searching for that red. Perhaps it was just the anger swelling inside him, pushing outward, seeping into his skin and tinting it red. Mixing with the cool of the blue, however, unsuccesfull in calming him.

He clenches his jaw, 'You, don't have anywhere to go.' He points an accusing finger at me, 'I- On the other hand–'

'–Have nowhere to go.' I finish his sentence for him, exhaling it in a whisper, 'We only have eachother now, ironically enough.' I flash my eyebrows upward, the words tasting bittersweet on my tongue.

Reality seems to set in as he too, leans backward and looks out through the window. Now seeming more lost than angry. Nonetheless, he blames me, for. . . what happened. I reach out for him, gracing his knee with the tips of my fingers–

But he pulls back, yanking his knee out of reach for my touch and faces away from me completley. Turning his head over his shoulder, I feel him retracting within himself, tugging all previous feelings and memories with him. He closes his eyes and exhales a shaky breath, 'Dont, I don't know you.' His voice was cold, 'You're nothing more than a roommate, a stranger im forced to share a home with.' Completley devoid of emotion.

My eyes stung with tears, and I hurry past him. Rushing upstairs to the loft, shutting myself in my bedroom.

That was a few weeks ago, the anger and sadness had settled. But in its wake, annoyance and spite had developed.

It felt very much like living with a sibling you hated dearly, a nemesis, your rival. Yet still loved, because of your ties.

'Just get out already!' I groan, stomping my foot into the floor from pure frustration. I felt like a child throwing a tantrum, but he just brought it out of me.

'I'm. Using. It.' He shouted, voice slightly muffled.

'For fu-' I stopped myself, but closed my eyes instead. Reminding myself to be the better person, 'I. Need. It.' I threw his punctuation back at him, 'I have to shower, youre making me late!' I shouted back through the door.

We both had a date, at the same time. Bucky was occupying the shower, it felt like he delayed just to make me late.

Eventually, the door opened and steam poured out of the opening. A cloud of buckys scents wafted in her face, and from it he emerged, with only a towel around his hips. With his bare upperbody on full display.

It's not like I hadn't seen him without a shirt before, but that had been as friends. Buy now that we weren't friends anymore. . . Well, I couldn't help but feel a little something.

He smiled smugly, 'Your turn.'

Oh how I wanted to scream at him, how could someone be so self-satisfied? I frantically gesture with my hands for him to move past me, and the second he did, I threw myself inside.

Finally, the water flooded down my body, every drop doing its duty in soothing an unwelcome ache. Stress and worry washing off of me, sliding into the drain, everything was perfect in this short, shielded time.

It would be over in a moment, when I rejoined the chaos that was my life.

But for now, my hand slipped downward. Quickly finding the source of my ache, and releaved it, rubbing it away in massaging circles. Doing my best to stifle my moans– When involuntarily, an image of Bucky popped up in my mind.

His towel around his hips, the low "V" on full display, his muscles rippling, torso stretching, showcasing his body and toned abs in all their glory. But what if those big hands had grabbed my waist, and pulled me close. What if he sank inside me, how heavenly it must feel. I bit my lip, my fingers moving faster. Realising too late that I was only spurring myself on, I came quickly, doing my best to stifle my moans. Toppling over, I leaned against the shower wall as I caught my breath. Praying I had been quiet enough.

When done, I hurried and dried myself off, then stepped out the shower a wrapped a towel around my torso. I took a quick look in the mirror, making sure that my actions were in no way visible on my face, then opened the door and re-entered the apartment.

The sun was just beginning to set, it was late in the day and the neon light had yet to come on. Golden light filled the apartment as–

Bucky fell onto the couch. . .

Almost looking like he'd jumped over the back of it.

I looked at him strangely, myself acting like I hadn't just touched myself to thoughts of him. 'You ok?' I asked, quirking an eyebrow.

He nodded, and grabbed a pillow, pressing it against his abdomen with an unreadable expression on his face, 'Mhm.' He hummed, 'Just fine, why would't I be?'

A violent urge to strangle him grabbed ahold of me, anger nipping at my skin, I was starting to tire of his passive-agressiveness. I inhaled through my nose, and exhaled through my mouth. Calming myself before I answered, 'You're right, how silly of me to ask. I don't even care.' and headed to my room.

What I did not see, was his eyes following me, lingering on my rosy cheeks and wet hair. Roaming over the bare parts of my skin, noting the way it was riddled with glistening water droplets. Nir had I seen, how he'd walked past the bathroom door earlier and somehow heard my moaning, or that he'd stayed and listened, intently. Sowly becoming more and more aroused. I did however, see a glimpse of him "smoothly" covering his tracks when I opened the door, the old run and jump maneuver. By some miracle, I didn't put the pieces together. Because I had not seen his erection either.

I put on my long, sleek, red satin dress.

It fell perfectly over my body, clinging to every curve. Paired with a pair of nude heels, my legs looked magnificent thorugh the slit too. I walked downstairs, expecting Bucky to make some snide remark, but he was nowhere to be found.

I figured I'd at least let him know im leaving. Presuming he was in his room, I approached it, and could indeed hear him inside.

But I wasnt to sure what to make of the sounds. My subconscious instics must've kicked in, because I reflexively took my heels off and snuck closer. Muffled grunts and slapping came from the other side of the door, they were, lewd almost, kind of like–

My jaw dropped. My name, I heard- I heard my name. He just moaned my name. Surely, this wasnt real, I scoffed internally. He was pranking me, right? Maybe it was an actress, or crush who shared my name? He was gonna open that door any second, jump out and tell me how stupid I was to think such a thing. Yet, something tightened inside me, a dull pulse flaring up.

There was a final groan, then the sound of a zipper. I blinked, frozen. Until I heard footsteps, and forced myself to snap out of it.

Shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit! I quickly tiptoed over to the window, pretending to look outside. Realising I still had my heels in my hand, I had to alternate between putting them on and acting nonchalant.

The creaking sound of his door opening rang out behind me, and I yelped, my head whipping over my shoulder to look at him, taken completely off guard.

His eyes went wide as he met mine. His expression made it very clear that he'd expected me to be gone by now. 'Oh–' he clenched his jaw to keep it from falling. Rubbing the nape of his neck, he looked around nervously, 'Thought you'd gone.' He said, irritation lacing his tone, 'Since you were so stressed about being late and all.' He remarked, narrowing his eyes.

God, the gall on this man.

I put my other heel on, and turn around completley, 'Stress that you caused, you mean?' I pointed out, the final rays of sun warming my back as I looked at him, 'Dont worry, I'll leave you to it.' A giggle bubbled up in my throat. I had to suck on my bottom lip to stiffle it and hide my smile.

I turned on my heel and fled, not sticking around to see his reaction.

I couldn't keep him off my mind, surely it was not me he meant, I heard wrong. He hates me, for gods sake!

At that thought, my date picked me up, and the night was pretty uneventful from there. We had dinner and drinks, but something else was occupying my mind. I was just replaying the way my name sounded falling from Buckys lips, the way he breathed it, moaned it. My core ached at the memory.

My date no doubt thought me distant, but it couldnt be helped. I was desperate for the feeling of a man inside me, for bucky more specifically. So I laid my hand on top of my date's, 'How about we take this to my place?' I asked, smiling seductively.

Eagerly, he agrees.

Arriving back, we stumbled into the apartment. Kissing enthusiastically, as the colorful light had returned. Bathing us in a dark red light. Faintly, it illuminated our path upstairs as I grabbed his hand and pulled him to my room. We'd been too busy to notice Bucky, already standing in the kitchen.

Who hadn't had a very succesful date either, the only difference being that he did not bring her back to their place. He respected their home, but apparently she did not. A feeling of anger bubbled up inside him, but it felt different. Not like it had that first night of their fight, now, he almost felt threatened. He scoffed, surely not, noo–

The red switched to green, and his brain thought it before he himself came to the conclusion, was it. . . Jealousy? He furrowed his brows, disputing with his his mind. Never, he hates her gut. Hes been teasing and annoying her, because he hates her. Simple as that. Earlier, today was just a moment of weakness, a man doing his manly obligations. That was all, he told himself and looked outside, the green light poking fun at him. Calling him out in ways he did not appreciate, it was nauseating.

He had to talk to her, go up there and put a stop to it. This was his apartment too, he had a veto.

He marched firmly up the stairs, the green contrasting the red hot anger on his face as the sounds of laughing grew stronger. He reached for the door handle, when he heard their moaning.

Her moaning more specifially, the sound of skin against skin, of a creaking bed and the way it thumped against the wall. His mind blurred the sounds of the other guy, and instead focused on the sound of her, her labored breathing, her whimpering and mewling. Wishing he was that guy right now. He could've listened all day, but snapped out of it. Shaking his head as he realised the immorality of it. He couldnt just barge in on them, he'd tell the guy to fuck off the second they were done. He nodded, yeah. . . His hand fell to his side as he took a step back–

She moaned, so beautiful. Humming, 'Ooh, fuck, thats good bucky.' The words slipped from her lips befor she could stop them.

Buck froze, they all froze. Blinking, he did a dubbel take. Huh?. . . Huuuh?

'I'm, uhm–' She tried.

'What did you just call me?' The guy questioned, 'Is- is that your roommates name?' Dumnfounded, he pulled himself off of her.

Bucky couldnt believe what he was hearing, he snickered 'Holy f— shit.' Unable to controll himself, he burst into pure laughter as he ran down the stairs. Covering his mouth in the motion, spite pouring out of his ears. 'What a marvelous, marvelous day.' He declared openly, throwing himself on the couch, arms splayed over the back. Waiting for the next scene to unfold.

The man, clothes in hand came rushing down the stairs, and noticed Bucky watching him, 'You him?' He asked.

Nodding, 'Uh, huh.' Bucky hummed, confirming the mans suspicious as a cocky smile spread across his face.

'Fantastic.' The stranger hissed, and muttered under his breath. '. . .Some competition. . .' Then fled the apartment, throwing his clothes on in a hurry.

Bucky laughed, 'So good,' and sighed with content, shaking his head in disbelief.

A second later, I came bounding down the stairs, a sheet pulled around my body. 'Did he leave already?' I asked, sprinting to the door.

Grinning, he answered, 'That he did.' Slanting his head in observation as he took her disheveled appearance in.

I run my hands through my hair in frustration, 'Shit!' My head then snapping to Bucky as he's just sitting there, snickering and looking at me smugly. 'What?' I ask, but he only shrugs, smiling stupidly. 'Wipe that smile of your face, you big idiot.' I shout, 'Where's your date, huh?'

Flinching, hes taken aback 'I didn't bring her home! Its called common curtesy!' He shouts back. Both incredibly sucessfull in riling the other up, immediately getting kn eachothers nerves.

'You jealous or something?' I throw my hands in the air, laughing incredulously.

'I don't need to be, I heard you, you know.' He smirked, 'Up there.' Nodding to my bedroom. And my blood runs cold, embarrassment prickling my face. But I clear my throat, trying to control my emotions, 'You were listening?' I quirk an eyebrow, the corner of my lip tugging.

'Wha– of course not! He protests.

'No? Well, I did.' And now it's my turn to grin, 'I heard you, too. Earlier today.'

His veins freeze, 'I don't know, what you mean. . .' Bucky begins–

'Yes you do.' I saunter toward him, getting right in his face. 'Just admit it.' I hiss, humouring myself.

Grabbing my jaw, he breathes 'I fucking hate you.' But I smile against his lips. The neon sign turning pink, painting us both in its lovely rose colour.

'No, you don't.' I whisper, 'You love me.' And drop my sheet, stark naked underneath.

In a hurry, he crawls back on top of me, lining himself up with my core. Teasing, he slides his member up and down my folds, 'Fuck' I moan, and he slides in. Immidietly setting a gruesome pace, hitting my cervix with every thrust.

He looks at me with awe in his eyes, eyebrows furrowing. He lools teribbly pained, 'I do, I do love you.' He whimpers, as if the sight of me and the the truth he'd refused to accept hurt him.

In a clash, his lips met mine. Feverishly our mouths clash together, tongues waisting no time in tasting the other. His hands glide down my sides, until they grab my ass and he lifts me into his arms. I gasp and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling on his hair, making him grunt. He walks us into his bedroom, and throws me onto the bed with a yelp, then crawls on top of me. Kissing his way up my body until our mouths found their way back to eachother. I unbutton his shirt and unbuckle his belt, hastily pulling them both off of him. He sits back, and zips down his pants, kicking them off. His size was more than enough.

He groans in my ear, snaking his hand up to my throat and as he leans on the other. Nuzzling my face softly, his hand toghtens around my throat, lightly choking me as his hips slam into mine hard into mine.

My hands roam his back, sinking my nails into his skin whenever a particularly rough thrust sends a spirit breaking ache through my body. His lips trace their way down my jaw, specking it with kisses, whispering 'I love you.' In muffled moans against my skin.

I grin, and run my hands through his hair 'Good boy.' I whisper–

He whimpers, 'Fuck.'

The snap of his hips falter as the both of us are reaching our orgasm. He kisses his way down my throat, meanwhile adjusting his hold around it. 'I love you.' He mutters between every kiss, when he finally falls over the edge. His seed spilling inside of me as he does his best to keep thrusting, helping me to reach my own climax. With the chole of his hand, member inside me and his muffled I love you's. The knot tightens in my stumache, and I topple over too. How could I not?

'I love you too.' I whisper, and I feel him smile against my throat as he squeezes it one last time. 'Good, it was too hard to stay mad at you.'