#just one fucking moment where i can breathe is all i ask

[davinawritings]

Werewolf neighbor that can’t hold himself back from breeding you once he smells you ovulating.

Warnings: Oral (fem receiving), Major Breeding Kink, Slight Overstimulation, Knotting

Pairing: Male Werewolf x Female Reader ( Reader could be read as human or monster or hybrid)

You had moved into his apartment complex a few weeks ago, and he had tried to keep his distance.

He had only really seen you on that first day when you were guiding the movers to your apartment, which happened to be on the same floor as his. You had given him a shy smile, and he quickly responded with a tense nod before entering his apartment and slamming the door shut, already feeling his cock hardening.

Unfortunately, he could pick up on your smell whenever you were in the hallway due to his heightened senses. It never failed to send his blood rushing to his cock, but he always managed to keep himself locked away in his apartment, rutting into his own hand.

As he hears your door unlock tonight, he waits for the inevitable moment when your delicious scent will hit his senses. Like every other day, it does, but it is much sweeter this time. His cock is almost instantly hard, and a low growl is involuntarily released from his chest.

All of his instincts are screaming at him to breed your fertile pussy, and he groans at the realization that you smell so sweet because you are ovulating. His legs move faster than his brain, and before he knows it, he is in the hallway and pacing towards the elevator where you are calmly waiting.

He grabs you and pulls you over his shoulder, causing you to gasp. “ What are you doing?” you ask. He doesn’t answer and carries you back to his apartment and bedroom. He lays you down on his bed, and you stare at him wide-eyed. He watches as your eyes trail over his tall body stopping on his throbbing cock, hidden only slightly by some gray sweatpants.

He smirks as you lick your lips. He quickly strips you of all your clothes, pulling your legs apart to settle his face between them. You let out a low whine as his breath hits your wet center. “ I’m going to get this pussy nice and ready for my cock, and then I am going to spend hours breeding this beautiful body. Got it? I’m not stopping until I’m sure you are carrying my pups”, he says, his voice rough with lust.

You moan out a simple “please”, your body on fire with need. He licks a stripe up your slit and moans, giving you a grin before burying his head in your pussy and eating you like a god. Every lick has you clawing at the sheets and moaning in pleasure.

He moves to fucking his tongue inside your already dripping cunt, and you cry out at the feeling. His snout rubs your clit as he shakes his head back and forth, and you scream as you cum on his tongue, back arching off the bed.

He crawls up your body and doesn’t wait for your orgasm to end before starting to push his thick cock into your still convulsing cunt. Tears come to your eyes at the stretch and overstimulation, but you just pull him closer, needing to feel him fill you completely.

“Fuck. Your pussy feels so good. So fucking tight around my cock. You can take it. Just a little more”, he tells you. You look down, already feeling so full, and see that there really is still more. You whine, gripping the sheets and bracing yourself for the last few inches of his impossibly large cock, wanting to take all of him.

His clawed hand wraps around your hip, and he gives one last hard shove, pushing the final few inches inside of you. “Such a good girl. Taking all my cock. Fucking perfect”, he says, and your cunt clenches at his praise.

He slowly withdraws his cock, relishing in your soft mewls, before thrusting back in and starting a brutal pace. He nips along your neck and chest as your hands claw at his shoulders and back. He never relents in his thrusts, loving the feeling of your cunt clenching around his cock.

You cry out for him, your own release washing over you multiple times, but his instincts won’t allow him to stop until he has filled your womb with his seed.

He flips you over onto your stomach and enters you from behind, fucking you into the mattress. You moan at the new angle, his tip bullying your g-spot and your clit being repeatedly shoved into his silk sheets.

“I tried to leave you alone, pretty girl. I could fucking smell your sweet cunt each time you left your apartment and every fucking time I had to rut into my own fucking fist”, he says, each word followed by a harsh thrust.

“I tried, baby. I rea- fuck. I really fucking tried, but when you walked out today, I could smell this perfect fucking pussy ovulating. Your body practically screamed that it needed me to breed it. I just couldn’t hold myself back”, he growls out, and you feel his cock start growing at the base.

His knot starts catching on each thrust, expanding quickly with his fast-approaching orgasm. He switches to grinding, his knot no longer allowing him to thrust in and out of you. His cock rubs against your g-spot relentlessly as his hips grind your lower half into the bed harshly, your clit being dragged against the silk sheets over and over.

You scream in ecstasy as you cum once again, cunt clenching around his knot as you milk his cock for his seed. He growls loudly, claws digging into the mattress as his cum begins to fill your pulsing cunt, his knot keeping all of his cum locked inside of you. His short thrusts don’t stop as rope after rope of cum continues to fill you, the pressure and fullness making you whine.

After a few minutes, he finally stops and rolls you to your sides, keeping you pressed firmly to his chest and firmly locked on his knot. He releases a small chuckle when you give a small yawn and snuggle further into his chest. “Go ahead and rest, baby. You have a long night ahead of you once my knot goes down.”

🖤💕❤️❤️💕🖤

[fatherbrat]

LET'S SNEAK, AOT MULTI

sum. various aot boys and how they fuck you while trying to keep your relationship a secret. inspired by lyrics from sneak by leon thomas :p

feat. eren jaeger. jean kirstein. connie springer. armin arlert.

cw. cheating/infidelity, missionary & doggy, face-sitting, a nasty blowjob, praise, riding/cowgirl, creampie, office sex, risky sex, hold the moan, reader has multiple orgasms, some angst if you squint, not proofread...

wc. 2.7k

EREN JAEGER “can i fuck you in the daytime, daytime? even though that pussy isn’t mine.”

Eren’s moral compass is a bit skewed.

But you wouldn’t dare tell him that. He’d only throw it right back in your face, claiming you're worse. You’re the one with a boyfriend after all. He’s single. Technically.

“Where’s the boyfriend?” Eren asks as soon as he crosses the threshold into your home. He doesn’t bother waiting for a response before pulling his shirt off.

You close the front door behind you and sigh. “He’s out of town. Look…” You hesitate, not really wanting to finish your sentence, even though you know it’s long overdue.

Eren turns to look at you, one eyebrow raised. “Don’t tell me you’ve grown a conscience.” He doesn’t sound annoyed, or even surprised. More like…intrigued. Regardless, the words make you wince.

“He wants to take me to meet his parents,” you tell him, avoiding eye contact.

Eren lets out a whistle. There’s a moment of silence, both of you lost in your own thoughts, before you hear the sound of Eren unzipping his pants.

You stare at him. “What are you doing?”

He smirks. “I’m already here. Might as well go out with a bang.”

You don’t bother wasting any time pretending you weren’t hoping he’d say that. You strip, and almost immediately you’re pressed against a wall. Eren kisses you in a way that can only be described as needy, like he’s taking extra and stowing it away for later.

His hands are everywhere, squeezing and caressing and memorizing.

When he lays you down on the sofa, you aren’t expecting him to plant his tongue between your thighs.

“Eren–”

“Shhh,” he whispers, lifting his head to meet your eyes. “This is the last time, right?” He waits for you to nod before continuing. “Let me savor it.”

He makes surprisingly quick work of making you come and kisses you right after so you can taste yourself on his lips. When he fucks you he does it slowly, agonizingly, eyes glued to your face as he watches your lips part when he bottoms out.

Your nails dig into his back. “Eren, don’t tease,” you huff. “Faster.”

He smiles down at you, shaking his head slightly. “You’re so impatient,” he says, clicking his tongue. “What happened to letting me savor it?”

You squirm beneath him. “Fuck savoring. Fuck me.”

Eren doesn’t need to hear you say it twice. He picks up the pace, dropping his forehead against your shoulder as he grabs your waist.

“Gonna miss this pussy,” he breathes against your skin. The way he says it is tender, a stark contrast to the rough way he pounds you. You wonder, just for a second, if he really means that he’s going to miss you.

But Eren can see your mind wandering. He taps your cheek.

“Hey. Pay attention. You haven’t come enough times to start losing your mind already.”

His eyes narrow as he takes in the sourness of your expression, unimpressed by his statement.

He huffs and pulls out. “Turn around.”

“What?”

“Turn around and get on all fours.”

You frown but comply. He rests one hand flat against your back, pushing you down into the perfect arch before he prods your slit with the tip of his cock.

“Gonna make you see stars,” he mutters, before burying himself inside you.

And he does. His rhythm is dizzying, and it has you biting into the couch cushions, groaning with every stroke.

His arm wraps around your hips so he can lay his hand flat on your lower belly. When he travels lower and starts to circle your clit, all the muscles in your core tighten. He doesn’t slow down when you reach your climax. In fact, you think he goes faster.

“Fuck, Erennn,” you whine, dragging out the last consonant of his name as you dig your fingernails into your palm.

“I know, I know. Takin’ me so well. One more.”

You try to remember what he’d always say, something about good girls coming in threes, or maybe third time’s the charm. Something that meant he’d always make you come three times before leaving. It’s hard to think of what it was when you can hear him slamming against your ass.

He draws out the third one in no time, calling you his good girl as you moan into the sofa.

It’s bittersweet when he pulls out, and you wish he would make you come in fives or something. Eren gives you a look that tells you he can tell what you’re thinking.

He presses his lips to your forehead as he pulls his pants on and you can sense the goodbye in it.

“Take care of yourself, mkay? I’ll see you around.”

You watch him leave, wondering if you’ll see him for real.

JEAN KIRSTEIN “know you wanna keep this thing discreet. hear you calling through the streets.”

You’ve molded Jean into the perfect fuck buddy.

He’ll drop everything to come over the minute you text, doesn’t spread your business around, and always makes you come first.

“Right there, right there, fuck.” You grind against his face, throwing your head back as your grip around the headboard tightens. 

Jean hums into your pussy as you orgasm, grazing his teeth against your clit as you ride it out. 

Your body goes limp and he swiftly comes out from underneath you, laying you down on the bed gently as he peppers kisses across your skin.

“I’m gonna grab you some water,” he says, not waiting for a response before leaving your room. 

You watch him go, a small smile sitting on your face. He’s become so attuned to you, always at your beck and call, willing to cater to you in any way you ask. 

It’s the kind of behavior that makes you want to suck his dick. 

So, when he returns from the kitchen holding a glass of ice water, you ask him. 

“Do you wanna throat fuck me?”

Jean freezes, staring at you like you’ve grown a second head. You suppose you have—it’s been nine months since the two of you started fucking and you have yet to go down on him (not that he’s ever complained). Still, you’d be offended at the look he’s giving you if it weren’t for the obvious erection growing in his pants.

You tilt your head to the side, eyeing his crotch before meeting his gaze. “Yes or no?”

“Yes,” he answers quickly, suddenly unfrozen and eager. He places the glass on your dresser, slipping out of his sweatpants and moving towards you. 

Jean watches you roll off the bed and onto the floor, sitting up on your knees and looking at him with an expression that almost makes him dizzy.

Something feverish blazes in his eyes when he stands in front of you, and you have to work to keep the excitement off your face when he tugs down his boxers. 

He strokes his cock idly, watching you look up at him. “You sure?”

This time you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face. “I’m sure.”

He taps his dick on your lips, tentatively, and you open up. He shudders when you run your tongue along the underside of his tip. 

Jean cradles your head in his hands as he pushes himself all the way into your mouth. There’s a shaky inhale from him when he hits the back of your throat. 

“Oh shit,” he breathes. 

You close your lips around him, hollowing out your cheeks, and something in him snaps.

The speed at which he thrusts into your mouth is almost violent, and he moans when you gag, the pads of his fingertips pressing harder into your scalp. He’s already sensitive from being rock hard the whole time you sat on his face, and his sloppy in-and-out, in-and-out motion drags your spit everywhere–your face, his pelvis, even your chest. 

The feeling of him hitting your throat makes your eyes water, and you feel him growing impossibly harder against your tongue when you look up at him with glassy eyes.

He doesn’t last long, not with you looking at him like that. He’s mumbling an apology as he fills your mouth, saying if you weren’t so perfect he would’ve lasted longer. You’re grinning as you swallow down his cum, watching how his eyebrows furrow as he looks at your neck, and he kneels down to kiss you immediately. 

When he pulls away, he’s looking at you with a soft sort of wonder. Admiration almost. A bashful smile pulls at his lips. 

“Can we do that again?”

CONNIE SPRINGER “she like rich niggas, i’m her type. bored at the crib, she tryna pipe.”

conniiieee come over, im bored ;)

Connie smiles to himself when he reads your texts, his dick nearly stirring to life at the implication of your messages.

Despite your agreement to keep your… situation lowkey, he always pulls up to your apartment complex on his motorcycle, practically alerting the masses that he’s about to come upstairs and rock your shit. 

You meet him at your front door, scowling. “Why do you always show up on that loud ass bike? I know you have a car now.”

Connie just smiles, scooting around you to come inside. “You keeping tabs on me, baby?”

You roll your eyes and kick the door shut. “Sasha won’t stop raving about how cool it is.” You do air quotes around the word ‘cool,’ trying to imitate the lilt in Sasha’s voice when she talks about it.

Connie drops his motorcycle helmet on the shoe rack by the door. “It is cool. If you’d stop being so stubborn and take me back I could take you for a ride.”

But there’s really only one kind of ride you’re interested in right now! Which is how you end up straddling him on the couch, pressing kisses into the side of his neck.

Connie’s hands rest loosely on your hips, letting you grind against him as slowly as you want. Your breathing is shaky, sweat coating your skin, a byproduct of the last four orgasms. You lift yourself off him on trembling legs, higher and higher until just the head of Connie’s cock remains inside you. You catch his eyes briefly, and the mirth swimming in them is the only warning you have for what he does next.

His fingers tighten their grip on your hips, tugging you back down on his cock harshly. A strangled sound escapes you, air catching in your throat with the sudden movement.

“Con-”

He kisses you, cutting you off as he bounces you up and down. 

“Last one, mama,” he says against your lips. 

You can feel an ache in your legs from them being bent underneath you for so long, your head is fogged up with leftover pleasure, and there’s a pressure building up deep in your stomach. This is why you keep letting him come over all these months after your breakup. He knows just how to wear you out.

Connie pulls you against him, chest to chest, and wraps his arms around you. He lets you rest your forehead against his as his cock brushes up against your g-spot, forcing moans out of you that can only be described as wanton.

“That’s it, baby. Nobody fucks you like this, huh?”

You shake your head, your nose nudging his. “Just you.”

Connie practically purrs in satisfaction, right before he comes inside you. You melt against him, the pressure in your abdomen releasing as you cry out. Connie’s lips sweep across your jaw, patient and gentle while he waits for you to come down.

When you do, he leans back, eyelids heavy with contentment. You can feel him softening inside you. You already know what he’s about to say just based on the expression he’s wearing, but you wait for him to ask before giving the same response you always do.

“Y’know we could do that all the time if you’d take me back.” He doesn’t sound as heartbroken as he used to, like he’s grown used to this back-and-forth the two of you have going on.

You give him a wry smile, wiping beads from the back of your neck. “We didn’t break up because the sex was bad, Connie.”

He kisses you then, soft and lingering. “Worth a shot.”

He cleans you up and you let him take a shower and rummage through your drawers for the few pieces of clothing you never returned to him. When he’s leaving, he throws a wink your way, picking up his motorcycle helmet with one hand and unlocking the door with the other.

"Text again soon, alright? Love you."

ARMIN ARLERT “always down for an afternoon delight, but i can never crash and spend the night.”

“We have to stop,” you whisper halfheartedly, tangling your fingers in Armin’s hair as he kisses you.

Armin smiles against your lips. “Why?” he asks, his hands traveling down the length of your pencil skirt. He starts kissing down your neck, mouth going lower and lower until his fingers reach the hem of your skirt.

He pulls your skirt up over your ass, letting it bunch up around your waist. You giggle when he turns you around and gently presses your cheek against the door.

“I’ll get fired if HR finds out,” you say, arching your back as he pulls down your underwear. Your wet cunt feels a rush of cool air when he does, and you gasp when Armin plunges his fingers in. You feel the weight of his chin on your shoulder as he presses his chest against your back.

“But she’s so wet,” he whispers in your ear. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you like that HR could find out.”

You neither confirm nor deny, just humming and wiggling your bare ass in response.

He chuckles, the sound traveling straight down to your core. Armin doesn’t give any warning before he slips himself inside you. He pulls you away from the door after the fact, covering your mouth with one hand and wrapping the other arm around your waist.

The hardest thing (other than Armin) about keeping your lunch “meetings” secret is the fact that neither of you are particularly quiet. Armin muffles your moans with his hand and muffles his own by biting into the junction of your neck and your shoulder. There’s nothing to be done about the sound of his hips slapping against your ass or his cock sliding in and out of your pussy. All the two of you can do is hope nobody comes back from lunch early and walks past the copy room on the fourth floor. 

(But anyways, where’s the fun in it without a little risk.)

You moan into Armin’s hand when he hits a particular spot and he slows. He uses the hand on your face to tug your head back. “So noisy,” he says, lips brushing against your neck as he speaks. “I know you want the whole office to hear, but don’t be so obvious.”

Your walls clench around him and he hisses, picking up the pace once more.

“You like thinking about our coworkers hearing you?” You shake your head, but the way your pussy squeezes him proves you to be a bold-faced liar. 

Armin’s teeth graze your shoulder, his breath hitching as his hips lose their rhythm. 

“Go ahead then,” he whispers against your skin. “Let them hear.” He moves his hand from your mouth and loosely wraps his fingers around your neck instead. 

Another moan threatens to escape you, but you refuse, rolling your lips between your teeth in an attempt to keep quiet. 

Armin bites you then, and you gasp loudly. His thrusts become careless as he frantically chases his own orgasm. He brings his hand back up to your face, this time slipping two fingers between your lips and pressing down on your teeth so you can’t close your mouth. 

You can hear the faint sound of footsteps that signal the end of your lunch break. A door opens, and voices become audible as your coworkers get closer.

Armin smacks your ass, hard, and it’s enough to pull you over the edge. The two of you come together, him sinking his teeth into your skin to suppress his own moans. You bite down on his fingers, but it does little to help. You’re positive the entire office can hear you screaming his name.

(づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ♡

[peachesofteal]

"This can't be happening."

"C'mere." He tries to drag you into his arms, but you dodge him.

"No. I can't... I don't want to be touched right now." Your hands are shaking, prickle of tears starting to burn at the back of your eyes. How can this be happening? "Oh my god, my family. They live-"

"They'll be alright."

"No!" You shriek. He's too nonchalant, unaffected. He doesn't understand. "Look at that red spot. That's where they live, right there. In a state that doesn't view most of them as human beings. The only one who would qualify in their eyes is my father, because he's a man. I left them all behind, in a country that hates them." Your stomach flips. "We're the minority. My sister just had a daughter-" your voice dies as you grapple with the reality. The country you used to call home, the one you watched elect a black man to the presidency not once, but twice, is nowhere to be found. It's dead. Fallen to extremism like so many others.

"Shhh, hey-"

"How could they do this? How could the majority of the country choose this? I don't understand. I mean, I do. The answer is plain as day but fuck..." You go to him now, burying your face in his chest and taking a deep breath. It helps. Here, you're safe, at least in this moment. "I'm sorry, I'm freaking out."

"It's okay," he murmurs, kissing your forehead, "it's normal. You're grieving where you've come from, you're worried and scared for your loved ones. That's okay."

"He's going to start so many wars," you moan, and he chuckles, sweeping his palm over the back of your head and holding you tighter.

"Don't worry about that so much, it's not that simple... and there are a lot of things that happen behind the scenes. Trust me." He holds you tighter, and another wave of despair crests.

"It's never going to end. The states are always going to be lost to this... this bigotry, this extremism. I thought there was change happening but... it's so deeply ingrained... there's no hope for them."

"You have to believe there is, love. Hope is the most powerful thing on this planet. It changes the course of the future all the time. Trust me, I've seen it."

"I just..." You trail off, lump forming in your throat. He rubs your back, squeezing your shoulders before taking a half step back to tilt your face up to his.

"Listen to me sweetheart," he cups your face, thumbs moving back and forth in a soothing rhythm, "these things happen. Governments ebb and flow. In two years, there will be another election, right? For state and local representatives?" You sniffle and nod. "There will be a massive overcorrection. The scales will tip." It relieves the ache in your chest, a little bit, to know that there will at least be another chance to right the ship, somewhat. "Want us to assassinate him for you?" He murmurs, kissing your temple, and you give him a watery smile.

"I think that's asking a little much." He shrugs.

"Wouldn't be the worst thing we've done."

[getmeoutofhell]

HEYY!! i have a req! could you do where like reader dresses up as art for halloween? but like not during the day but when he gets home? like reader is dressed in black and white lingerie? like the top is a white lacy corset and the underwear is black and lacy too?? and when he comes home he just sees the reader and shit goes DOWN! if not its totally okay! make it as long as you want make it as short it doesn’t matter! whatever your heart desires! im sorry if this is also to much to ask for! but ily and take your time or dont do it! whatever youd prefer! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Art the Clown x F! reader smut

summary: reader decides to dress up as art for a surprise, but he had other plans.

warnings: smut!, cussing.

it was 9pm, art should be home soon. you look at yourself in the mirror one last time before walking out yalls shared bedroom. you decided today you wanted to dress like him as a surprise. if we’re being technical, your outfit wasn’t exactly like his. it was a lingerie version. before he got home you had also cleaned up the house (basically cleaning up after him as usual). you and art have been together for some time now, meaning yalls anniversary is coming up soon, so you thought now would be the perfect time.

you hear the door downstairs creak open, indicating art’s finally home. you miss him every second he’s away from you. you bought him a phone, to text him while he’s away, and not even a week later he broke it. you told him not to put his phone in the bad of sharp objects, but of course he has to be stubborn and do everything his way all the time. you watch art as he shuts the door and places his bag on the side before stripping out of his clown shoes. he must be really tired to take off his shoes right as he enters the house, it’s rare for him to do that. he then grabs his air horn and starts to abuse it, it’s his way of letting you know he’s home. “hi baby! i have a surprise for you but you have to close your eyesss.” he immediately complies and covers his eyes with hands as you walk down the stairs. you tell him no peaking before guiding him to the living room couch, having him take a seat on the sofa. you can see him smiling due to how high his cheeks are raised, making you smile at him. he’s so cute when he’s not out killing, but his evil side also attracts you in a way.

“okay are you ready?” you ask, placing your hands over arts. he nods like a small school boy, eager to see what his surprise is. you start to count down from 3. “3…2…1…open!” he opens his eyes before looking you up and down with the biggest grin known to man. he starts to clap his hands and toot his horn and the sight of you. “i’m you, kinda.” he loves it!! that’s good, maybe it’ll make him not so sleepy. when all of sudden, he stops clapping and his face goes blank. you step back slowly, confused on his sudden change of emotions. you know art is a ticking time bomb, one minute he’s happy the next he’s pissed off and you don’t know why. as you were about to ask him what’s wrong, he gets up from the couch standing directly in front of your face. you feel his hot breath against your nose as he looks down at you. in moments like these, you feel your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach. what if he decides to just bash your fucking brains in, not caring about you or anything anymore. not that he cares about anything right now anyway, but still. he places his left hand on your cheek. your eyes never left his face. you take notice in his facial features, noticing his wrinkles around his eyes and his blonde eyelashes, his little black hat that he always wears on his head. he was handsome when he was serious, but also he was deadly.

he out of nowhere suddenly grabs you and throws you over his shoulder, making you let out a scream. “art!! what the fuck!” you’re then taken upstairs to y’all’s shared room, as he throws you on the bed. he takes this chance to guide his hands down to your legs, before spreading them open for him. art has this problem where he randomly gets horny, but i guess you did wear the costume on purpose or whatever…but that’s not important right now. you take a look at arts pants, seeing a boner forming. i guess dressing up as him did work. you can’t help but crack a smirk at that. you’ve been waiting all damn day for this moment, so why not enjoy every bit of it. art then starts kissing you up your neck, you feel him leaving hickeys or at least trying too anyway. you slightly moan feeling his tongue slide over your delicate skin. art takes advantage of this, sliding his hand inside of your panties, immediately attaching his ring and minder finger to your swollen clit. “oh!”

you then put your hands on his back, grabbing the zipper to his costume and unzipping it. “baby, let me take this off of you.” he ignores your request by pressing his fingers against your clit harder. a couple minutes later and you’re on the edge of your first orgasm of the day. “baby, i’m gonna cum please don’t stop.” he looks at you and cracks that certain smile that lets you know he might stop at any given moment. you beg him not to, wanting to let your orgasm ride out. he finally rolls his eyes and let’s you cum all over his fingers. it feels so good, you can’t describe how much pleasure he makes you have. someone so cruel and sick like him has your toes curling and back arching. it’s a blessing and a curse. he slowly removes his hand from your underwear, bringing his fingers to his mouth. he shoves them in, tasting your wetness on his tongue. he acts like you’re some sort of drug, he’s addicted to your pussy, it’s his favorite dessert after a long hard day.

his head somehow was now deep between your legs, licking up your pussy lips. the way his tongue dances on your clit makes you think he needs it. he acts like he does. your head was thrown back into the bed, and it felt so fucking good you couldn’t even moan properly. black and white face paint spread all over your inner thighs, but you didn’t care. all you cared about was cumming all over his face. “fuck!” you started grinding over his wet mouth, feeling your second orgasm approaching by the second. it was getting to much to the point where your legs started to shake like no other. what type of spell does he have on you? how does he know how to make you cum so fucking fast? you know you have no answers to those questions. you moan his name like a chant, as you finally let yourself go for the second time. your body couldn’t take it, you were so sensitive and he knew that.

as you’re trying to calm down from your orgasm, art didn’t even give you the time to before he lined his cock up with your entrance. “baby, i can’t take all of this at once.” once again, he ignored you and slide right in. your eyes had a mind of their own as they rolled in the back of your skull. his dick was so good, he’s fucks you like his life depends on it. he knew exactly where your g spot was and always abused that spot each chance he gets. you loved when he marked you as his, the way his cum filled you to the brim and you watched it drip out of you. “yes baby, give it to me! harder!” you moan his name again as skin on skin could be heard from everywhere, his balls slapping your ass. not to long later you feel art slow down his pace, telling you he’s about to cum. you always want him to cum inside so you bring him closer to you than he was already. arts legs started shaking against you. you’re cumming. it’s uncontrollable at this point, feeling your body go limp under him.

you wonder, does he actually know how much you mean to him. does he feel the same way?

hope this was to your liking!! let me know if you enjoyed :)

[wlfchnlv3r]

I saw requests were open and I’ve literally never sent in a request but you writing is so good I had to

Idk maybe minding x reader if you’re ok with that

Or nerd bang Chan with those glasses bro he looks so good haha

Or virgin reader n Lee know

Whatever one you think would be interesting or feel comfortable writing no pressure you obv don’t have to do any 🫶

Fem reader x gamer!Bangchan

Synopsis: Bangchan is your nerd gamer boyfriend, he is the most lovesick and clingy person you know, especially when he feels frustrated after losing at video games.

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: 🔞, mdni, smut and fluff, pussy eating, vaginal sex, adult language, and bangchan with glasses.

Note: uhm…meow

Bangchan is in your shared bedroom playing video games, but at some point he loses the match and with a frustrated look he lets out a loud sigh, his hand slowly moving up to grip the back of his chair.

He feels annoyed and irritated from his loss since his rank has been dropping lately. A part of him wanted to scream in frustration, his eyes slowly moving over to the bed where he sees you napping peacefully.

Your boyfriend lets out another deep sigh, but his mood beginning to soften as he gazes at your sleeping form.

Standing up from his chair, he quietly approaches the bed, his footsteps soft and careful to not wake you up yet. He sits down on the edge of the bed, his eyes still fixated on you as he studies every feature of your face. A small smile appears on his face as he slowly reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch light and tender.

You move and open your eyes “channie..? Everything’s ok, babe?” You ask rubbing your sleepy eyes.

Bangchan hesitates silently for a moment, contemplating if he should ask you for something. But in the end, his need gets the better of him as he finally decides to open his mouth and speak “Actually..can I ask you for a favor?”, his eyes moving to the ground for a moment before glancing back to you, curious about your response.

“Of course…” you mumble a little.

“I..really need to let my frustration out after losing at that fucking video games...” your boyfriend says, his voice soft and hesitant as he looks down for a moment, his hand slightly clenching. He can slowly feel the annoyance he once felt from his loss slowly creep up. Bangchan slowly looks back into your eyes, almost as if silently asking permission.

You smiles and raises the bed sheets “come here…”.

A soft, shaky breath leaves his lips as he slowly scoots over to you. Pushing the sheets aside, Chan crawls on top of your body, trapping you between his arms on either side of your head "You..you really don’t mind..?”.

You just nods with anticipation.

A shiver runs down his spine at your response, his need and want for you starting to take over his mind. His eyes slowly scan over your face before moving down to your neck.

Your boyfriend slowly leans down, placing a soft kiss on your neck before moving up to your ear, his breath warm against your sensitive skin “I’m gonna let it out…and it’s all your fault…”.

You giggle “my fault, babe? What are you talking about?”.

He lightly bites your ear as he continues to leave kisses along your neck. He lets out a small chuckle, his hot breath sending chills over your skin “Mhm..It’s your fault for looking so damn cute, for looking so damn gorgeous, and for being so damn sweet to me…if you knew what you do to me..”.

You just look at him with a sincere smile.

Chan slowly pulls away from your neck, his eyes locking with yours. He can feel the need inside him quickly intensifying, a hint of possessiveness and desire slowly growing in his eyes “I need you so badly..” he says with a low, almost hoarse voice before softly capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

You kiss him back “you need me, babe? wanna make you feel good”.

A soft hum comes out of your boyfriend mouth, the feeling of you kissing him back and your words sending a wave of pleasure through his body. His hand continues to slowly move down your stomach before it suddenly stops, grabbing the hem of your shirt and slowly starts to pull it up slowly “You have no idea..how badly I need you right now..” he says.

“Just let it out…I want you too” you reassure him.

His breath hitches at your words, the possessive and dominant side of him starting to take full control. BAngchan nods, a hint of a growl in his tone as his eyes darkened with desire “Babe, you have no idea..how badly you’re mine right now…how badly I want to dominate, to claim, to mark you as mine…are you okay with that..?” He asks gently.

You start to blush because of his words, you love when he is like this.

His hands slowly pulling your shirt over and off in one swift motion. Your boyfriend quickly tosses the shirt onto the ground before slowly moving in to kiss and bite your neck once again, leaving small marks as his hand starts to move to the hem of your shorts “Then you’re mine, all mine..no one else can see you like this... this side of you is only for me, understand...?" he asks in a deep, dark voice, his lips still against your neck, as he slowly starts to pull down your shorts. Once they were off, Chan moves in between your legs, his body now on top of you.

You smile a little watching the bulge into his sweatpants “damn baby u are already hard”.

He smiles in response, chuckling at her words. His body was already beginning to react to you, the heat between his legs growing more and more with every second passing by.

Your boyfriend slowly moves his hips forward a little bit, pressing his dick onto yo just a bit more as a small soft moan escaped his lips, "What can I say...I was already hard the moment I saw you".

You just chuckle, he is always been impatient, “yes, babe?”.

He nodded, a small amused smile on his lips as he watched her chuckle. Chan presses a little more into her, a small shiver going through his body. His hands slowly slide up and down her stomach in a gentle caress, his touch light and intimate "Mhm...l couldn't help it. Not when my girl just looked so damn good, even when she laid there trying to take a nap...".

You can’t help but smirk, starting to lower his pants and boxer, his pink tip is already wet with precum; You smile with anticipation and caress his tip, you always loved doing it and seeing his reaction.

A soft moan escapes his lips as soon your hand touches his length. His eyes close for a moment as his body shivered in pleasure.

"F-fuck...don't tease me like that... not when I'm on the edge of just taking you right here right now...".

Your boyfriend takes a moment to gather himself, his eyes opening to look back down at you.

His hand slowly moves down her body, caressing her skin softly "I'm the only one who gets to touch you like this, to mark you, to claim you, to make you mine in every way possible...".

You squirm when he starts to rub your clit.

A wave of pleasure washes over him as he feels how badly you want him just from his touch "Look at you...so needy and desperate just from my touch. This is what I was waiting for, to see you this under me”

“C-chan” you whine.

The sight of you so needy and desperate just for him makes his heart race. His hand continues to rub your swollen clit, his touch purposeful and precise.

“C-chan I want more-“ you whine.

A small chuckle leaves bangchan’s lips at your plea. He leans close to your ear again, his voice low and dark as he spoke against your skin "You know...you're gonna have to be patient, babe.”.

He slowly moves his hand away from your wet pussy, bringing it up to gently caress your face softly as he continues to speak

"I'm gonna take my time with you tonight... make you moan and scream my name so much you'll lose your voice.”.

You laugh a little giving him a quick kiss “my favorite nerd wants to worship me”

Your boyfriend returns the kiss, his lips molding with yours in a perfect fit. The title of "nerd" never got old to him "Babe...you know I'm your nerd, and that I love to worship you".

“You are only mine…” you speak with a soft voice.

"Damn right I'm only yours. No one else's".

Your boyfriend’s lips continuing their path downwards, slowly kissing and tasting everv inch of you.

"I want to taste every part of you, claim you as mine..."

An idea pops to your mind “Mhh I like your plan, what do you think about using those sweet lips of yours in a different way?”

Chan slowly pulls away from your neck, a small smile appearing on his lips a he looks back at you "And what exactly would you like me to use those sweet lips of mine on, eh?“.

“Oh, You know what I want…nerd” you tease him.

"Mhm...so desperate to have my mouth on you... is that what you want?".

“Of course, what you think?” You giggle.

He slowly moves down your body, his lips leaving a trail of small kisses as they go. He gets in between your legs, taking a moment to look up at her and admire the view. Seeing you this desperate and in need of him, just for him, is enough to send a shiver of pleasure through him "You're so damn beautiful like this, babe".

You just smile and fix his glasses “so cute babe”

Your boyfriend lets out a small chuckle, his smile widening a bit more as you suddenly fix his glasses. Only you would do that in such a situation and have him feel not even an ounce of annoyance "You're calling me cute when I’m right in front of your pussy?”

You can’t help but let out a chuckle mocking him “I love when your face is between my legs like this, I’m dead serious”

Bangchan hums in agreement, his face mere inches away from your wet cunt.

You gently tangle your fingers in his hair pulling him closer.

He lets out a soft gasp, your touch, no matter how gentle, is more than enough for him to get even more in the mood.

He slowly moves in, his lips just barely touching your skin as he leaves soft, feather-like kisses and his hands slowly move to your hips, his nails digging into your skin a bit as his lips slowly slide closer to your swollen clit.

Your boyfriend can feel how much your squirming under him, eager in anticipation of what's to come.

You moan lightly pulling him more closer.

He finally gives in, his lips and tongue touching your clit “Mhm...so impatient”.

You whimper loudly “f-fuck chan-“ you curse.

He moans softly against your skin as he finally tastes you, his lips and tongue slowly exploring your cunt, enjoying the way you squirm and whimper under him, all needy for his touch.

"You taste so good, babe...l swear I could spend all day just savoring you like this..."

Chan continues to slowly runs his tongue over her skin, his lips and tongue taking their time to savor every inch of you and, his hold on your hips getting tighter as you pull his hair.

"God, I love it when you get desperate for me like this, babe... you look so damn gorgeous like this, all needy and wanting me so badly..." he praises you more.

You close your eyes “god- channie...” you are lost in pleasure. Far from reality.

He slowly starts to speed up his movements, his lips and tongue moving more quickly over her, trying to taste every inch he can since he can't get enough of you.

You are so drawn in the moment that you don’t want him to stop.

Your boyfriend pulls away for a moment to look up at you, a small satisfied smirk on his lips as he sees the state she's in.

"God, look at you, babe...you're such a whiney mess, cause you need me that badly...".

You nod in agreement still with your eyes close “...c-channie...m close” you admit.

"Mhm, you close, babe? You gonna give me what I want?" Bangchan teases "Mhm, since you are so sweet, I'll let you let come for me”.

After a few moments you can’t take it anymore, your legs start shaking a little and you come undone.

He moans feeling you coming for him, that makes him feel a shiver of pleasure as he slowly moves back up to look at her.

"Mhmm, you're so damn gorgeous when you come, seeing you like that, all shaking and moaning, just for me, it’s so fucking sexy” your boyfriend chuckles softly, his breath still coming out in pants as he gazes down at you.

He's still need to fuck you, to claim you as his even more than before, but right now he wants to watch you all pleased and satisfied after coming.

Despite the orgasm you want more, you want to make him feel good, honestly.

"Mhmm, want more, do you, babe?

You want me to take you once more, make you mine all over again?".

You just nod, with a smirk on your face as you start teasing him “you are such a naughty nerd, you know that, right?”

Chan chuckles softly, the sound low and sultry as he moves even closer to you, his lips hovering only millimeters away from your neck "I’m your naughty nerd, babe. Only yours. No one else can have me like this, just you. No one knows me as well as you do... only you can make me feel this way, get me all feral and desperate for you like this"

You laugh a little “You seem so calm and shy but you are such a-“.

"Oh? I seem calm and shy, do I?

Well, I guess that's only with other people, not with you...you bring out a whole other side of me, a side that's possessive and feral and completely addicted to you" he admits.

You are going insane “I'm also addicted to you, chan”.

Your boyfriend slowly smiles, feeling his heart beat faster in his chest at your words.

The thought of you being just as addict to him as he is to you makes him feel more possessive than ever before.

"Babe, I want to claim you again as mine, over and over again, until our bodies and minds are too exhausted for even me to want more" he speaks in a soft tone.

You just take the chance and mock him “you think you can take me till I'm a leaking with your cum?”.

A low, deep groan leaves Chan’s lips at your mockery as he looks down at you with a smirk “you think I can't? You really think my stamina isn't up to the task of making you a dripping mess by the end, babe?" he groans against your skin, slightly nibbling on it “well, I'll take that challenge..."

You start to rub his tip against you as he groans, the sensation of you touching him making it hard for him to think straight, the need for her growing stronger with every second “can’t take it anymore, I need you”

Your boyfriend press his hard cock on your cunt, sliding into you slowly, feeling a wave of pleasure wash over him, his breath coming out in heavy pants as he tries to keep control of himself "F-fuck...you feel so tight around me, I’m going to fuck you dumb”.

“God- Chan…” you whimper loudly taking him so well.

Bangchan moans slightly at the sound of his name leaving her lips, hearing it when you are together like this is quickly becoming his favorite sound in the world "you feel so amazing, babe, l swear that pulling out from your pretty cunt is the last thing I want to do".

You are fully drawn in to his deep movement that make you arches your back and moan.

His hands grips your hips and his fingers starts to dig into your skin from the pleasure "F-fuck, you don't know what you do to me when you look like that, l can't even think straight when you're so goddamn perfect"

“You- you feel so good inside me, babe” you mumble so cock drunk.

Chan’s mind feels like it's becoming more and more undone as he hears your words and the way you look, feel and sounds are driving him wild.

You kiss him in a sloppy way, trying so hard to compose yourself; You clench your legs around his waist to keep you still.

He groans as you cling to him, holding him closer, the feeling of you wrapping yourself around him makes his body burn with desire, only fueling his heat for you.

“ I’m so-so close channie…” you speak in a whisper.

Your boyfriend hears your words, knowing you are close to your climax, and it only makes his mind more clouded with the need to make you completely come undone beneath him “shit, babe, you're gonna give me what I want?" And before he can finish his sentence you come undone, Your mind fuzzy from the orgasm making impossible for you to say anything.

Feeling and hearing you come is driving him even closer to his own release as he lets out a deep, rough groan.

Your walls tightening on his cock are his breaking point, his body completely going over the edge as he comes, groaning your name like it’s the only word he knows.

"F-fuck, y-you're amazing- god...I swear, you're gonna kill me one day”

After a few minutes of shaking breaths you try to move from under him, but Chan chuckle, grabbing onto your hips to drag you back to him “where are you going, babe? I’m not done with you yet, remember the challenge?”

Taglist: @felixleftchickennugget @kiwininja35 @sweetpickledjins @slmnheart @elqivxstxr @catffeinexo-xx @multistancheck @justwonder113 @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @hello-stranger24 @raptorbait529 @cocofia143 @minniesverse

(Comment to be added to the tag list🎐)

[aricarianis]

CW: explicit depictions of violence and sexual themes.

John Price was the love of your life. Love is a powerful force—capable of building or destroying—and what you shared kept you bound to him for years. But only having his rough hands on your skin for a few months at a time, hearing his gruff voice say sweet nothings over the phone, missing the feel of his beard grazing your neck as his words seeped into you like venom, all wore down the foundations of what a real relationship was supposed to be.

He knew it. He felt the same sick ache in his chest every time he promised to come home soon, both of you aware it was a lie. He’d promised to slow down, to leave the job, to stay by your side, but the marriage you ended up with wasn’t the one you’d signed up for. You didn’t want a husband who vanished for months on end. When he returned, he’d devour you, craving your body like a hard drug. His hands too eager to find your sweet spots, cock too hungry to make you forget that he had lied. He'd push you into constant moments of bliss, tricking, but even his passion couldn’t erase the truth: he’d lie again.

In time, your marriage went where so many do. When he was handed the divorce papers at the base, he still tried to attack the process server. You wanted out, and nothing he did would change it—not refusing to sign, not tearing the papers up, not skipping court. You weren’t his anymore.

Life carried on, with months passing and, as usual, not a word from John. You thought losing the love of your life would be agony enough, but his indifference only added to the torment. Part of you wished you’d never met him; never knowing love would��ve been worth never knowing this pain.

The night before the hearing, you invited your lawyer to your flat to go over last-minute instructions. As the meeting wound down, a low, metallic sound came from the bedroom.

“Did you hear that?” you asked. He shook his head.

The two of you sat in tense silence for a moment, dread prickling at you. Your lawyer offered to check the bedroom, but you dismissed it, assuring him it was probably nothing. The meeting continued until, just before leaving, he asked to use the restroom. You directed him to the en suite, since the guest bathroom had stopped working that morning.

Lost in thought, you noticed several minutes had passed without him returning. Concerned, you called his name. No answer. Yelled. Still no answer. Your chest tightened, dread spreading through you like poison. Gripping the hunting knife John had given you for protection, you made your way to the bedroom.

“You can put that thing down, love. ‘S just me.” The gruff voice sent a shiver down your spine—unmistakable.

You peeked into the dark room, spotting the familiar silhouette against the dim light from the window. “John? H-how did you find me?”

“Why’d I have to find you in the first place?” His tone was cold, anger simmering beneath restraint.

“I needed space,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Single people live alone.”

“You know damn well you aren't single.”

“I’ve been single ever since I married you.”

Your words cut deep. His shoulders slumped as he sighed, hurt etched on his face.

“Where’s my lawyer?” you asked, searching the shadows.

“He’s not our problem anymore.”

“John…” Your breath hitched. “What did you do?”

“Someone’s trying to take you from me, innit? Was it him?”

“Where is he?”

“Think a piece of paper’ll keep me from you?” His voice dripped with rage.

“Why do you care? You love your job more than you love me—”

“Don’t say that.”

“I understand, John, but this wasn’t the marriage I was promised. I’d rather have none of you than pieces,” you said, your voice thick. “At least then I wouldn’t have to lie to myself that I’ll ever have you whole.”

He breathed heavily, brow furrowing as if struggling to comprehend your words.

"Why can't you just admit you've fucked up and leave me alone, huh? You had months to pull this little stunt—it's too late to care now."

John’s expression went blank, unreadable. He lunged, disarming you with practiced ease, gripping you by the hair and throwing you onto the bed. Your back hit something solid, unfamiliar beneath the covers.

He flicked on the light, and before your eyes adjusted, he was above you, pressing the knife to your throat. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his beard scratching your skin, hunger corroding him from within.

Instinctively, you turned to the side, seeking something to help you escape. Instead, you saw your lawyer’s lifeless, bloodshot eyes staring back, ones that had met yours with empathy so many times, reassuring you that everything would be okay. His neck twisted at a grotesque angle, lips slack in a silent scream.

“I’ll hunt you down forever, love,” John whispered, his voice carrying all the rage and obsession you overlooked for years.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, your breathing erratic, heart thundering. He pulled back, holding your gaze with a look that seared into your soul, his mouth twisting into a cruel smile.

“Doesn’t matter what you think,” he murmured, voice dangerously soft. “I will always be the love of your life.”

[jjkarmy091]

Second Best- Jungkook (part 6)

Summary: Being friends with someone who has your heart it’s already hard, let alone when that special someone ends up falling in love with your best friend, the one you think would never make anything to hurt you . Will you be able to ignore it and move on? what will happen when everything gets too much for you to handle?

Genre: Friends to lovers; angst; body insecurities; bullying; friend betrayel;

Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader

Jungkook woke up around 9:30 am. The first thing he did was check his phone in case he had any notifications from Y/n, but had none. He was seriously getting worried about this lack of response. Had something happened with the person Y/n left with? If that was the case he would never be able to forgive himself. He knew he should have gone after her, he's so stupid. 

He got up, took a quick shower, got dressed, grabbed his keys and left, he couldn’t keep up with this uneasy feeling. Putting his helmet on, he drove to the coffee shop Y/n worked. He knew her shifts very well, and that was the only place he could find her. When he got there, he parked his bike, took a deep breath and got in looking everywhere for her but still no Y/n in sight. 

“Hey there moto boy. What can I get you?” Sana asked. Jungkook looked kinda confused. “I was actually looking for Y/n. Is she on her break?” Sana frowned and looked at him suspiciously. 

“You’re kidding right?” Sana exclamed. “You are always together and talk to each otherall the time when you aren’t. You can’t tell me you didn’t know she took some days off” 

The world fell at Jungkook's feet upon hearing that. Y/n took a few days off and didn't even answered to his texts or deign to call? what the fuck was going on. Jungkook nodded his head, said thank you and left, picking his phone up instantly to call Y/n. “The person you called is not available. Please try again later” 

Fuck. Me

------------ 

Y/n fell in love with that place as soon as she saw it. Everywhere she looked she she felt immense peace and everything seemed so quiet and cozy, everything to make the weight on her shoulders disappear. Upon entering the chalet, they were immediately greeted by a gentleman at the entrance who directed them to the reception.

After checking in and receive the keys, they picked up their luggage and followed the gentlemanto the elevator, who was showing them the way to their "apartment”. Y/n couldn’t believe what her eyes were seeing. Walking in, she’s faced with a very nice living room, with wooden walls and gray furniture. It had shelves with books, among other really cute stuff decorating the place. All very neutral and very light, exactly what she needed. On the coffee table was champagne and a plate with strawberries and chocolate with a small note saying "we hope you enjoy your stay as much as we enjoy your presence. Thanks for choosing us. Have fun" 

From the living room they went to the bedroom to organize their things. When they walked in Y/n was even more astonished. From their bed they had a view of the outside. She always loved snow and being there was filling her heart with so much happiness she wished she could live there forever.

“Where did you find this place and how can you afford it for both of us?!” Y/n exclaimed. Lisa looked at her with a funny look “My dad owns it. A benefit of traveling so much and not seeing his family for so long, not everything can be bad. I used to come here for Christmast and New year. It's crazy during those days and you know me, I love crazy and those were my favourite moments here”

Y/n laughed. Only Lisa could say something like that. 

“So… You know how to ski right?” Lisa asked out of nowhere. “Oh hell no Lisa, no way, not right now, we just got here we should—” Y/n argued back but was soon interrupted by Lisa 

“There's a snow suit in the closet on the right. We have a lot to discover we won't wait until tomorrow. You rest during the night. Come on princess, time is money” Y/n huffed while getting her suit to start putting it on.  How could Lisa have so much energy was something she couldn't understand.

They both got dressed and head out of the chalet. Y/n was amazed by the view, everything was perfect. But it’s not an adventure if something doesn't go right for Y/n. Out of nowhere she lost sight of Lisa, making her panick. She had no idea where she was.

Y/n looked around trying to see her friend but couldn’t identify anyone who would look like her. She started walking around worried about straying too far from where Lisa last saw her. Y/n was so distracted that she didn't even notice anyone coming close to her, ending up colliding with that person, causing her to lose balance and fall. The other person quickly knelt down, stretching out his hand to help her until she heard “Y/n?” 

She looked up, took the stranger's hand and straightened her hair a little, trying to understand where she recognized that voice from, until the stranger took the protective mask off his eyes and saw him.

“Taehyung?”  

Tags: @esposadomd @joonlover1207 @eegyo @furrywonderlandwolf @minghaosimp @differentrunawayperson @nikkinikj @jksusawife @11thenightwemet11 @jk97bam @11thenightwemet11 @cryingoverpixelsetc @bhonbhon @lostinneocity @almostpurplelady @meowforluv

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Poly!plastics x gamer!reader

Oh No, Your Girlfriends

|| poly!plastics x gamer!nonbinary!reader

|| Warnings; swearing, the plastics are upset with reader, Regina argues with reader, short drabble

|| Summary; when reader spends the weekend playing video games, the plastics show up to their house.

Requests open!

Started; November 5th

Finished; November 5th

~~~

Games were basically your life. You didn't like leaving your room for much, obviously you were forced to for school. And occasionally your girlfriends would drag you out. But more often than not, if people couldn't find you the first place anyone would check would be your room. You could always be found playing some type of game. You didn't really replay games too often, normally when you beat all the levels you would leave it be after that. Though there were your few comfort games you couldn't stop playing. Such as Minecraft, Sims and Call Of Duty. Your holy trinity of games.

It was the weekend, well into Sunday evening and you'd yet to leave your room. Your girlfriends had been blowing up your phone but with your headset on you hardly noticed. You were playing Minecraft, because you wanted a more easy flowing game. Plus, you really wanted to keep adding onto your one world. Trying to see how many builds you could possibly get on it. It was starting to get pretty full. At the moment, you were building a really massive library. Filled with stained glass windows and other intricate designs when the door to your room flew open. Completely startling you to the point of screaming.

You took your headset off, chest heaving as you tried to collect yourself. It was just your girls. Oh no, your girlfriends. Who you had completely neglected all week. Regina looked furious, Gretchen nervous and Karen just happy to see you. Karen bounced over and settled herself in your lap, sitting with you on your gaming chair as she gave you a kiss. You kissed back, though you couldn't help feeling nervous. Especially with Regina's eyes on you.

"Oooo!! Minecraft!" Karen bounced a bit in excitement, making your breath hitch as she watched your screen. "Can I play?" She asked, you sighed but nodded and handed her the controller. Her smile brightened and she went over to her section of the world; continuing off of whatever pink creation she was making the last time she played. With Karen happily distracted, you looked to Regina. Who was tapping her nails against her arms in impatience.

"Y/N.." She started, you already knew where this was headed. You'd ignored them all weekend, having been utterly sucked into your game.

"I know, I know-" You murmured, resting a hand to Karen's hip almost subconsciously. Giving it soft rubs on the skin just under her shirt, trying to settle your own nerves with the repetitive motion.

"Do you? Because this is the second weekend in a row now where you've pulled this shit." Regina huffed, you grimaced at that. She was right. You seriously had a bad habit of losing yourself to the world when you played your games.

"I'll make it up to all of you. Promise." You replied quickly, trying to pour as much emotion out as you could. So she could know that you meant it.

Gretchen silently looked at Regina, too nervous to say anything herself about it. When Regina took charge over something, especially while pissed off, it was usually best to leave her be. Not try to step over her in any way.

Regina rolled her eyes at that and walked over to you, hands gripping the arm rest as her eyes stared down into yours. You felt small under her gaze. "You have a lot of fucking begging to do."

You nodded and she smirked; tonight would certainly be fun.

[mikimakiboo]

Time Travelers AU - Meat

Heeeeere we go again ( @ancha-aus come here friend )

Taking a break in posting art to post a fic lmao

First

Prev

Next

A new morning began, and Dust woke up with Killer's face right in front oh his, which resulted in the Roman getting punched in the nose as a reflex from Dust, who let out a higher pitched scream than he would have wanted to admit. Dust heard Killer yelp and bring his hands to his face, backing down.

- What the fuck are you doing in my room ?!

He yelled at the Roman whining on his floor, sitting up straight on his bed and pulling the covers to hide his body, which was more of a reflex than anything as he wasn't naked but in pajamas.

- Audivi te gementes... !

Killer tried to explain, but the door flung open before he could finish, and Cross entered, panicked, and, judging by his tilted helmet, woken up by Dust's scream.

- Avez-vos uns problesme ?!

Dust only recognized the word "problem".

- I've got a problem yeah, he's watching me sleep !

- Tu gementes !

Killer tried again, but Cross had already grabbed his arm to pull him out of the room despite Killer's attempt to resist.

Dust looked at them leave, letting go of his covers. What was Killer doing in his room ? What was he trying to say ? Dust doubted the Roman just came to watch him sleep, unless he was that creepy.

He sighed, getting up as he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep now, and put on his clothes before exiting his room. Killer was unhappily sitting by Cross's feet who was still holding his arm to prevent him from going anywhere.

- You can let him go, it's okay.

He sighed, gesturing at Killer. Cross looked at him for a moment before reluctantly letting go of his arm. Once freed Killer went straight to his corner, sitting down with his back turned, pouting. Dust would have to talk to him, but for now he had to open the bay window for Horror before he broke it by trying to open it himself, which reminded him that he had to go pick up the dictionary at the bookstore.

He let Horror in and let the window opened to bring some fresh air inside, he noticed that Nightmare was still asleep on the couch when he turned back around, he was laying on his stomach with his face burried in a pillow and one arm hanging from the couch. That couldn't be a comfortable position, how could he even breath like that ? ... Was he still breathing ? Dust stared at him for a few seconds before reaching out to press two fingers against his throat, he almost sighed in relief when he felt a pulse

- Opna.

Dust stood straight again when Horror talked from the kitchen.

- Huh ?

He really needed that dictionary.

- Opna.

Horror repeated, pointing at the fridge.

- You, uh.. want me to open the fridge ? You're hungry ?

Dust tried to guess, going to open the fridge to let Horror have a look inside. The Viking looked at the few items in the fridge, not touching anything, with a frown on his face. Was it not what he wanted ?

- You're not hung..

- Slátr.

He interrupted Dust. Cross looked at him.

- Slátr, er ?

He asked again, looking at Dust.

- I need my phone...

Dust finally answered, going in his room to grab his phone before coming back, turning the translator on for Horror to repeat once again what he said.

- Er slátr ?

"Where meat". He wanted to know where the meat was ? Dust didn't have meat, it was too expensive, he only bought some when it was on sale and he didn't find any last time he went shopping, so no, no meat. Dust shook his head, searching the word money at the same time.

- No slátr, no, uh.. penningr.. ?

His accent was awful. Horror frowned, but didn't answer, simply nodding and turning away from the fridge. Dust looked at him, thinking that he must have understood and closed the fridge door, going to the bathroom to wash himself rapidly. Horror wasn't inside anymore when he got out, but he didn't pay much attention to it, the bay window was opened after all, he was sureley in the garden.

Dust put on his shoes and went to the door, already on the Google Translate page to ask Cross to let him go out, but to his surprise it wasn't needed as Cross avoided his gaze and moved to the side to let him pass. Weird. Dust might need to adress that too when he came back.

The bookstore was a little farther than the grocery store, and Dust didn't want to waste time by waiting for the bus so decided to walk, not wanting to leave them all alone for too long without any distraction.

When Dust came back he saw Killer talking, or rather complaining, to Nightmare, who looked like he just woke up and really didn't want to have a conversation. He put the dictionary on the table before looking at these two, opening Google once again, feeling that he would need it. Killer stared at him, still very much unhappy judging by his frown, then he looked at Nightmare who sighed before speaking.

- Vous faisiez un cauchemar, il voulait s'assurer que le reste de votre nuit se passât bien.

Dust waited for the translation to appear, and, oh, he was having a nightmare and Killer wanted to make sure he slept well for the rest of the night, that was... actually quite thoughtful... he kinda felt bad about hitting him, kinda, because watching him sleep this close to his face was still a weird thing to do.

- Oh, uh.. thank you then.. ? Merci.. ?

- Gratis.

Nightmare simply said to Killer, who seemed to untense a little, but he still seemed to wait for more.

- And sorry for hitting you, I'm.. désolé, pour, uh.. frapper ?

He tried, but thankfully Nightmare understood.

- Ipse suus paenitet te malum facere.

Killer seemed satisfied, looking up to smile at Dust, before sitting next to Nightmare on the couch. Nightmare didn't look happy with that but decided against complaining, not wanting to argue right after waking up.

Dust grabbed the dictionary again, going to the garden to show it to Horror, only to not find Horror in the garden. Was he in the bathroom ? He went back inside, noting that Cross seemed more nervous than when he left earlier. Dust looked at him for a second, noticing the sweat drop and Cross's increasing nervousness the longer he stared at him.

- Cross where is Horror ?

Cross didn't answer, avoiding his gaze.

- Cross.

Just as Dust was about to ask again, the door opened, making both Cross and Dust flinch, and Horror entered, holding his axe with blood on the blade as well as on his hands and a few drops on his face, he had a carcass on his shoulder that he was holding in place with his free hand.

- Slátr.

Dust froze. Horror was outside, and he came back with an unidentified corpse, in plain daylight. He came back with a corpse ! Where did he find that corpse !? Was the corpse alive when he found it !? Of course it was, there was blood on his axe ! Who did he kill ? Did he kill someone ?! Someone's pet ?! It seemed too big to be a pet. Was it a human !? Dust really hoped he didn't kill a human, even if he did dislike them pretty much. Was he racist ? There were nice humans, some of his colleagues were humans and they were nice... now wasn't the time to think about his moral code, Horror just came back with a corpse and-

Meat. Yeah Dust could see it was meat. Wait, did Horror went to hunt for him because he told him he didn't have money for meat ? Well it was kind of him but he didn't have to, like, he really didn't have to.

Dust was speechless, what was he supposed to say ? What should one say when your roommate who came from another time period came back with a fresh corpse on his shoulder ? Google would probably tell him to call the cops, but Dust obviously wouldn't do that.

Horror frowned when Dust didn't talk, wasn't he happy ? He said he didn't have meat, so he went out and brought him some, didn't that please him ? Or was he just in shock ? Was it the first time he had meat in his life and that was why he didn't know what to say ? Well, in that case, he would need to cook it perfectly to make sure Dust's first time eating meat would be a great experience !

Horror pushed the door to close it, walking past Dust to go put his axe down against the wall, next to the couch on which Nightmare and Killer were sitting. Killer had a wide smile on his face, seeming very excited about the meat he just brought back, as for Nightmare... it was hard to say. He had glanced at the axe when Horror put it down, and was now staring at him, his gaze planted in his eyesockets, his hand was firmly gripped on his cape, his breathing louder, but appart from that he didn't seem scared, he seemed more... mesmerized ? It was strange, and Horror decided not to think about it for now, he had meat to cook.

And to cook meat, he needed a fire, which meant he had to go in the backyard and collect some branches and leaves, anything that could catch fire.

Dust quickly ran to the backyard once he came back to his senses, looking at the big piece of meat on the outside table and at Horror who was visibly preparing material to make a fire. He wanted to say something, ask him where the meat came from, but his stomach growled at that moment, making Horror look up at him. And he smiled. A knowing smile. He knew he couldn't afford meat, and he knew he was hungry, so he went out and brought back meat. Maybe Dust didn't really want to know where the meat came from.

- I'll go grab a lighter.

He finally said, going back inside to take one of his many lighters, he quite smoking because the cigarettes were too expensive, so now he just had an army of lighters all scattered in his appartment.

He just sat behind Horror while he cooked above the fire. As unseasoned as the meat was, it smelled delicious, so much that he could have cried if he wasn't holding it back, not wanting to worry the Viking.

They all ate outside, and a few tears did come out as Dust bit into the hot ribs. It was just so good, to finally have meat in his plate, fresh meat that wouldn't expire in two days because it was on sale.

That, and not eating alone, even if the group was weird, he felt good, sitting outside with them, the warmth of the fire behind him, listening to them trying to understand each other and laugh at the poor pronunciation of the others when they weren't doing better themselves...

Yeah, Dust felt good, for the first time in ages, he didn't feel so lonely anymore...

[apricot-blossomss]

hihi!! may i please request an apollo x reader where he pleads for them to take them back after a minor argument, and apollo, in the heat of the moment and feeling petty, breaks up with reader

☛ apollo broke up with you over a stupid argument and begs you to take him back

☛ sfw, angsty, fluffy ending; tw: self deprecating thoughts; thank you for 100 followers!

He messed up. Badly.

His hand shook over the paper but he couldn't think of another verse. Or rather: there were so many swirling around in his mind, expressing regret, loathing himself, worshipping you and asking for forgiveness, that he couldn't find one to write down. With a frustrated groan, he buried his head in his hands.

"Lord Apollo?"

"Hm?" He said, begrudgingly looking up from his miserable laments and at the Muse Clio. She, as well as her sisters, had free access to the god's sacred gardens, though he would have preferred solitude right now. And he could not bear her pitiful looks, even though it was Clio's standard expression.

"I was sent by your high father," she said and came closer to the bench were the god had sprawled out all the heartbreak and breakup songs he had written in the last forty-eight hours.

"Sit," he said without putting away his pen. Instead, he started writing, but even though his words would have brought the highest poets to shame over the mediocrity of their verses, it still didn't feel enough for you. If he wanted to get you back, he'd have to do it properly, with the most masterful piece he had ever written.

Clio sat down on the small part of the bench that wasn't covered in music and lyric sheets, letting her eyes scan over them. Jeez. Whoever you were, you had to have done quite the number on the god. When she looked at him, he was feverishly scribbling on a fresh paper, looking like a madman. "Your father," she began carefully. "urges you to leave these gardens to tend to your godly duties."

"Tell him to shove his urges up his ass," Apollo grumbled and earned a skeptical look. "Come on. I'm sure you'll find a nice way of expressing the same sentiment."

"I have another message, from your sister," she added and he grimaced, a bitter feeling at the back of his throat. "Tell her I won't have her mockery." The muse fell silent, sad, worried eyes tracing his features.

"You can leave now," the god said in a monotone voice and without another word, Clio was gone. As so often in the last fort-eight hours, Apollo felt the tears sting in his eyes once more and leaned back to drape an arm over his face. But the darkness only brought the image of the fight back.

How could he have been so stupid, so hurtful and petty? It was an argument about a fucking a/c unit. It hadn't even been an argument initially. Just harmless banter, until he had overstepped and said something hurtful. And when you snapped back, he had felt hurt and lashed out. Stupid. He was so stupid. The whole thing started spiraling out of control until he had shouted back the fateful words.

"If you can't take a joke, maybe we're not right for each other"

The guilt ate him up from the inside. The image of your widened, teary eyes was burned into his brain, he saw it every time he closed his eyes, and every time he did, his heart squeezed so painfully that he wished someone would take mercy on him and shoot him with his own arrow. And no ink in the world would draw the pain out. Only one thing could- you.

You scrubbed aggressively at your kitchen sink, even though it really was not to blame for your current situation. "Stupid," you muttered to yourself as you forcefully scoured at a stain at the side of the sink. But it wouldn't wash away a bit. "Fucking thing," you muttered, scrubbing even harder. Finally, you gave up and took a deep breath through your nose. "Fucking shit"

Your doorbell rang and you ignored it. Like the last two days, you would self isolate and obsessively clean your house- that was how you coped with having the most stupid, petty idiot of a god as a boyfriend- now ex-boyfriend. The thought stung. And even more so, because as much as you would like to pretend it was, this wasn't all on him. The bell rung again, and you sighed, throwing your towel in the sink and opening the door with a little more vigor the necessary.

"Can I help y-" The words died on your tongue. Cool, silver eyes had you forgetting how to articulate a single word as the woman in front of you looked you up and down. She was gorgeous, in a wild way. Dark hair braided and of truly majestic posture, in a flowing dress and a bow over her shoulder. You felt your whole being shiver at the sheer might of her presence- something you only felt with Apollo, only that it felt much warmer and exciting with him. Your mouth knew before your brain registered her appearance. "Lady Artemis"

"You," she said, and the tone of her voice had you stiffen up, as if she had shouted. Her scrutinizing stare had you sweat and you dug your fingers into the palms of your hands nervously. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Th-thank you," you stammered, too panicked to think of anything else to say. Was she here to take revenge on you? Apollo would never allow that, that you were sure of. But who knew whether they cooperated?

"Your appearance doesn't live up to your reputation," she said coldly, but it didn't sound like an insult. The goddess studied your expression and sighed, a hint of exhaustion in her tone. "It must be something else about you then. Something that warrants this level of drama."

"I was hardly the one who started it," you bit back and regretted the words the second they left your mouth. Biting down on your tongue, you winced at your stupidity. "Please forgive me, that was out of line." Great. Insulting her brother in front of Artemis was surely the best move.

"He thinks the same." You looked up at her and were surprised to find her smiling a very slim smile. "You should see him, he's an absolute mess, drowning in his guilt."

"Oh," you said, without a hint of worry or remorse. Instead, you felt a sense of relief. He cared. He felt guilty. He was drowning in his misery. Artemis lifted her brow at your neutral expression and you shrugged. "It's nice to be appreciated."

"You are appreciated, alright," the goddess said under her breath as she remembered the tortured sappy breakup songs her brother had been bothering everyone with. Sickeningly enough, he was really good at those, so everyone was getting depressed. Even though Artemis tended to spend her time away from Olympus, she herself could feel the effects of this misery. And she was sure many gods would breathe a sigh of relief once the whole mess was settled.

"Look," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose as if she was having a migraine, which of course wasn't possible for gods. "Can you just take him back, mortal? He's awfully broken up and making everyone miserable."

"I'm not asking him to take me back," you said stubbornly. You may have had your part in the argument, but he was the one who ended things and your pride didn't allow for you to crawl back to him. "If he wants me back, he can tell me himself, I'm very sorry."

There was a short but noticeable silence. Then: "I understand." The goddess smiled. You were starting to live up to her expectations. "But he's just as stubborn as you and he won't get his ass down here until he has crafted 'the perfect song' to ask for your forgiveness." The thought did make your insides flutter. "How about a deal? I'll take you to my temple and make him fix this on the spot."

Not daring to refuse the proposal, you nodded and her hand got a hold of your upper arm. "Close your eyes" Instinctively, you followed her instructions. Even though you felt nothing, not even a hush of air, when you opened your eyes, you were in the most magnificent hall you had ever seen. Marble all around, with a high, open ceiling and trees invading it through the windows. A mix of ancient monument and forest.

When you turned around to ask the goddess whether this was Olympus, she was gone. You were alone, as small as an ant between the towering walls. They were so monumental it was almost claustrophobic- or rather, the opposite. Just as terrifying. The space made you feel tiny and insignificant and with those feelings came an unexpected dread:

What if he didn't want you back?

Why would he? He was a god, he could have his pick of hundreds of millions of people, people that were prettier than you, smarter than you, more exciting than you. It was like the walls were threatening to crumble, your breathing picked up and you tried to breathe through your mouth slowly, but not getting enough air only accelerated your sudden panic. What if he came in here and told you to go, that he didn't need you, didn't want you? That you couldn't even take a joke and you shouldn't be with one another? The scrutinizing look in her eyes as Artemis had looked you up and down was burned into your memory. Your appearance doesn't live up to your reputation.

He wrote you songs, you tried to remind yourself. He was being petty, that why he broke things off. Artemis says he regrets it, she said he wants you back. But you couldn't believe it- not really, no matter how often you tried to tell it to yourself. He wants you. But why would he? He loves you. Why you? There was no clock in the temple, of course, but it had been some time already . Would he even show up?

The tall stone doors were opened with such force they met the walls in a loud bang. Flinching hard, you shot around and saw him standing there, in between the doors that were creaking in protest of being handled with such force. You met his eyes and in that moment you knew you had already forgiven him. If a gods eyes could be bloodshot, his were. His usually effortlessly perfect hair was disheveled and his hands covered in ink. They hung powerlessly at his sides, as if they didn't know what else but the door to use their strength on. He looked like shit, and you felt love swell in your chest.

But you couldn't let him know. Pressing your hands to your hips, you lifted your chin. "I knew you'd come back" Liar "I just wouldn't have thought it would be this quickly," you said, sounding much more self assured than you had ever been in your life, much less now.

The god walked towards you, as if he were dream walking, raising a hand like he was about to caress your cheeks but slumped down in front of you instead, kneeling before you on the marble floor. "I am a fool."

"Yes," you said, nodding and gulping down the burning in the corners of your eyes. Because you couldn't stand the self loathing in his features, you studied a blooming cherry tree that was waving through one of the tall windows. When you felt hands on your hips, your own hands shot down but when they met his, your fingers curled around his and he let out a long breath.

"I am such a stupid, stupid moron," he emphasized and you finally managed to look down at him. The genuine regret in his eyes took your breath right out of your lungs. "Please... my love..." His hands closed around your smaller ones and he brought them to his face to put his head in his hands. You let him. "Please, forgive me. I was so stupid, please, take me back. Love?"

"Hm?"

"I'm so so sorry"

Not trusting your voice, you started caressing his cheeks and he sighed into your ministrations, kissing the palm of your hand softly. Teary eyes shone up at you and you looked back. Just when you opened your mouth to formulate an answer, he tightened his hold on you, while simultaneously reaching behind himself to grab a stack of scribbled-on paper out of nowhere and pushing it into your hands. "I tried to make the perfect one for you, but I failed. I'm sorry, my love."

As you read through the words, your heart started beating loudly in your chest. In disbelief, you read them through as the god still clung to your body. "Are these ... about me?" you whispered as your eyes skimmed over words of adoration and love, of appreciation and utter devotion, of little things you did that you had never noticed, or you had thought mundane- but he hadn't.

"Yes," he breathed. He didn't make a sound when he rose to his feet, though still hunched over in shame. His warm hands massaged your waist as they were carefully scanning your expression for your reaction. "Do you like them?" You had to like them, or he would lock himself in tarterus and throw away the key.

"I-" you stammered, voice hoarse. All your doubts, all your anxiety of being good enough... as you read through the words, they slowly erased them bit by bit. Your fingers were shaking so hard the paper trembled in your hands and you could feel the tears well up in your eyes. "Love?" He sounded worried, and you had to make yourself look up from the beautiful words to smile at him. "Yes, I like them. They're beautiful."

Thank god. "I'll make it all up to you, I swear," he said gravely, taking your face into his hands. "I will compose and sing operas to your magnificence, I will grant you every wish, I will never make you cry again, I promise"

"You just did," you laughed through your tears and pressed the stack of paper to your chest. "Can I uh- can I keep them?"

"Of course, silly. They are yours," he hummed, looking into your eyes with a look in his eyes you couldn't quite place. Maybe longing. Desperation. "Please, my love, take me back and I shall never make you suffer again."

"Alright," you said, smiling up at him and wiping away the saltine wetness on your cheeks. "And- I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that, you didn't mean it like that and I was just being stupid and overthinking and- I'm sorry."

Vehemently, Apollo shook his head and shushed down your apologies. "No no no, love, this was on me, just on me. I hurt you, I made you cry and I ... I can't get that out of my head." His voice sounded strained.

"Apollo?" Now, it was his eyes threatening to overflow with tears. "Why did you come back?" He looked at you as if you had just said the most bewildering thing ever. "I mean... you could have just left me. But you didn't." A small, bitter laugh escaped you. "I lied, you know? I didn't know if you would come back, I thought you might just not care that much."

"How could you ever think that?" he asked, as if he really couldn't believe it, and you laughed. "Because I hate myself?" It was meant to be a joke, but your puffy eyes and sniffs didn't do a lot of convincing on that end, you feared. The pained look in his eyes almost made you cry again, not even for your sake, but for his, because how could someone look this tortured and not break apart.

"You are the most amazing woman- the most amazing person- I have ever had the privilege of loving," he confesses. "I love you."

The genuinity in his words took your breath away, and you didn't get a chance to get it back because his lips crashed onto yours in a heated, desperate attempt to convince you of his words. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you kissed him back feverishly as relief flooded your whole body and you started relaxing in his arms. He could feel you slumping against him and chuckled into your heated kiss, angling your head just right for him to deepen the kiss, holding you securely and dipping you down. You giggled, fully entrusting him with yourself, and he smiled through the kiss.

"You are divine," he groaned, placing kiss after kiss on your swollen lips and you laughed lightly before the way of it was swallowed by his loving ministrations. "Says the literal god."

"APOLLO!"

Flinching, you broke away from the kiss just enough to see a very pissed off Artemis standing in the doors of her temple and glaring at her brother who frowned right back. "You're interrupting, sister."

"You are in my temple! How dare you do this in my temple you little shit?" When she whipped her head around to you, you buried your fingers in Apollo's tunic, already seeing your life flashing before your eyes, but against all expectations, she gave you a genuine smile. "If you don't want to take him back, I might still have a spot for you under my followers, you could join my huntresses, dear."

"That is a very gracious offer, but I fear I have to decline it, I'm sorry," you apologized and she tutted, though she didn't seem resentful.

"Ha!" Apollo grinned and she smacked him. He let her, grinning boyishly and hositing you up into his arms. You didn't protest, you were too dazzled by his unbelievably bright smile that had your heart explode into a thousand bubbles that popped all over your stomach, tingling. "Love, how do you feel about getting out of here?"

Waving at Artemis, you couldn't help your own smile. "Bye! And thank you, my lady!" She gave you a small smile and exchanged a look with Apollo that was more firm. Smiling at her, he glanced down at you and tightened his hold. "I know."

"Go!" his sister told him, shoving his shoulder, and in the flash of a second, you were surrounded by trees and flowers and sweet smells. A garden. Unmistakably divine, because no mortal place could be of such beauty.

Apollo set you down on a golden bench and sat down himself, pulling you into his warm arms. A long sigh left your mouth as you smiled at him, at his beauty, his smile, his shiny eyes. It felt so intimate, the way he was smiling back and pressed a kiss to your temple, huffing out a warm breath against your skin that was slowly warmed up by the sun. "Where are we?" you finally asked.

"My gardens," he answered, caressing your face with trails of sweet kisses. "Do you like them?" You nodded, admiring the colors as he was worshipping your face with his lips.

"Do you want to have them?"

"What?" you laughed, turning to look at him and fully convinced that he must be making a joke. But the expression on his face was undoubtedly honest. "N-no thanks," you mumbled and rested your hand on his shoulder. Your fingers interlaced with his.

"Do you know what Artemis told me before she happened to mention you were waiting for me at her temple?" Shaking your head, you started playing with his fingers when his captured your ring finger and his lips ghosted over your ear in a way that had you shiver in spite of the warmth of his sunny gardens. "She told me if I wanted you back forever, and if I loved you as much as I said, I should just put a ring on it."

"What?" you laughed instinctively, because you had built a wall around the topic for the both of you. What you had with Apollo wasn't permanent- it couldn't be, because you weren't permanent. What was he even talking about?

"I mean it," he said, so earnestly that the laughter died on your tongue. He brought your hand up to his lips and pressed his lips to your knuckles, your ring finger. "I would drag myself through eternal suffering for a life you. If you preferred a mortal life, I'd leave Olympus for you. I would kill anyone who hurt you, anyone ever made you feel small. I'd do everything for you, and I don't want to regret anything more."

Breathlessly, you searched his features for deception. "Apollo... you had thousands of lovers before me. Why me?"

He looked thoughtful and absentmindedly drew circles on your thigh. "You're right. I have loved plenty, and I have loved deeply every time. But even though it was genuine, it was never long, and that always worked for me, in some way." You felt the caress of his adoring eyes on you as you stared at your hands, trying to process his words. "It wouldn't work with you, never. And I would never be okay with it. I want you forever- or at least for as long as possible, as long as you want to."

There was a downside to dating Apollo, and it was the fact that your stammered confession and your attempts at wooing him with loving words crippled pathetically next to his flawless love poetry, his sure words and articulation. You really didn't know how to possibly give him an answer, other than leaning up and kissing him, as gently as the summer breeze, and thinking: if you could have this forever, what more could you need?

When you broke the sweet little kiss, you couldn't suppress a giggle and he raised an eyebrow at you. "It's just..." you grimaced. "I can't believe we broke up over an a/c unit."

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

[armandsfangs]

Vamp Daniel teaching a class on vampires- mostly just their history and powers without giving away too much information to the cattle. Armand attends it, having a great time seeing his fledgling be so confident and out there in front of the humans. He laughs heartily at Daniel's humor and after the humans have gone for the night, they fuck right on the desk.

A big jar labeled "ashes of problem humans" is on the shelves and it contains the remains of their victims.

"Excuse me, Professor Molloy."

Daniel looks up from his desk into the biggest, roundest, most doe-like eyes he's ever seen. His brain short circuits for an embarrassing moment as he takes in the desi man's beauty. And his plunging v-neck. Jesus Fucking Christ, he can practically see the pulse of the man's carotid artery traveling from his toned chest to his tender looking neck.

"Yes? What is it, Arm- uh, Rashid?" Daniel asks, his mouth suddenly very dry as he makes a valiant effort to keep his gaze above throat level.

Armand leans forward, and if Daniel wasn't aware of his cleavage before he certainly is now.

"I was wondering," says Armand, his doe eyes wide and innocent, "if you could clarify some parts of your lecture for me. Specifically where you talk about how vampires use their powers to lure in their prey."

Daniel clears his throat and stands up. "Sure, sure, no problem. Let me just close the door so we don't disturb anyone else."

He walks over to the door, every step painfully slow as he restrains his vampiric speed, before shutting it with a click. It locks behind his back. Armand is still looking at him, now leaning back against the desk, his denim clad legs stretched out for miles before him.

"It's all very simple," says Daniel, not bothering to hide how he stalks toward his 'student', his hungry gaze pinned on his target, "The vampire's greatest power is seduction. It's how he makes his prey do whatever he wants; his prey will willingly isolate themselves, bare their necks, even beg to be drained."

Armand doesn't move a muscle as Daniel crowds into his personal space, planting his hands on the desk on either side of him. Dark eyelashes flutter like the wings of a caged bird. Borrowed warmth radiates from his body, tantalizingly close.

Behind Daniel's lips, glistening fangs emerge.

"Do you expect me to beg, Professor?" Armand breathes. A smirk plays on the edge of his lips.

Daniel swallows. His voice comes out rough. "I know you will." He trails a sharp fingernail down the deep divot of Armand's chest.

Armand's smirk becomes a sigh as he arches into the touch. He hooks his fingers into Daniel's belt loops and tugs him closer, delicate lips parted invitingly. "Please, Professor?" His whisper dances across Daniel's cheek and the last of Daniel's tenuous control snaps like a violin string.

Daniel's mouth crashes into his with all the force of a hurricane unleashed, teeth clicking against teeth, as Daniel lifts him onto the desk, sending pens and papers scattering to the floor. Armand's tongue roves over the sharp point of Daniel's fang and the sweet tang of blood spills over, clouding his senses with mine-maker-more. He licks greedily into Armand’s mouth, unable to stop the whine that escapes when the wound closes much too quickly. 

A shiny trail of saliva connects them as they pull apart. Daniel's teeth hone in on Armand's neck, cleaving through muscle and sinew to sink deep into his carotid. Blood, sweet ambrosia, hits his tongue and he moans, low and wanton.

Armand gasps with each harsh pull of his blood, his hands curling into fists in Daniel's grey curls, and his hips twitching in short, erratic thrusts. The hot flush drains from Armand's cheeks as the colour is restored in Daniel's pallid face, and they reach a simmering equilibrium.

"Fuck me," Armand demands, breathless.

Daniel pushes him down on the desk one-handed and drags Armand's pants down with the other, nails scraping against his plush thighs. He licks his lips as his eyes rove over each inch of dark skin revealed. "With pleasure."

---

This was a learning experience in the sense that I learned I don't know how to write teacher/student roleplay 🤷 and I realised AFTERWARDS that Anon didn't even ask for that so rip to me I guess. I hope someone likes it??

[serve-cunt]

28 or 34 for Lando and Oscar? If it compels you 🦭

feeling for each other in the dark!! compelling...

lando/oscar scene under the cut..

“Oscar.” 

Oscar answered quietly, “I’m here.” They hadn’t been told to stay quiet, but it felt strange to talk at a normal volume. 

“This is fucking— stupid.” 

Oscar didn’t answer. He felt the same. But what could they do? 

“Can you, like, say something? So I know you’re still here.” 

Oscar smiled. “Where would I go?” he asked. “Even if we weren’t locked in, I couldn’t find the door. I can’t see anything.” 

There was a moment of silence, and when Lando spoke again there was a hint of panic in his voice. “We’re locked in?” 

Oscar backtracked hastily. “Er, probably not. I just mean—if we weren’t contractually locked in.” 

Another moment of silence, but when Lando spoke again he sounded a little calmer. “Mate, I never signed any contract that said they could Pavlov’s Dog me.”

Oscar frowned, then laughed. “You’re thinking of the cat. Schrodinger’s.”

“Whatever. How long d’you think we’ll be in here?” 

“Dunno.” 

There was a shifting noise, like Lando was moving around. Oscar put out a wary hand to stop them from colliding. Faintly, he could hear the sound of the Las Vegas grandstands—a roar of applause, dulled by the layers of plastic and plywood between it and his own ears. He hoped the roar meant the first pair of drivers had been revealed: Valtteri and Zhou, released from their own black box. 

“Downside to being first in the constructor standings,” Oscar mused. “They’ll open our box last.” 

“Wish you’d driven a little slower, mate.” 

“Likewise.” 

“Likewise,” Lando mimicked. Oscar glared in his general direction. 

For a few moments they were quiet, listening to the crowd. Somebody was on a mic, shouting over the noise, but Oscar couldn't quite make out the words. Then Lando said, timidly: “Can you, er. Can you—like—move a little closer.” 

Oscar hesitated, then took a small step to the side. “You alright?” 

“Yep,” Lando said, but his voice was strained. “You think they gave us enough oxygen?” 

“I don’t think the boxes are airtight.”

“Yeah, well, I just feel like I can’t breathe? A little?”

Oscar turned, and took another small step. He could feel Lando close by, the warmth of him. They were wearing identical team kit, and it really wasn’t enough; the desert night was freezing, and nobody had thought to put a space heater in the boxes. Or maybe that was a fire hazard. 

“Are you claustrophobic?” 

“No,” Lando said. “I just don't trust Las Vegas to pull this fucked up magic trick off without killing somebody in the process.”

“You can breathe,” Oscar said. “If I can breathe, you can breathe.” 

“Maybe you’re taking up all the oxygen, though,” Lando said. Oscar realized how close they were standing: he could feel the puff of air from Lando’s plosives. “Maybe they didn’t calculate right for two people.” 

There was a second roar, a little louder this time. Williams. Alex and Franco were probably waving to the crowd, blinking in the glare of the Las Vegas neon. Oscar didn’t like how much time there had been between the two waves of applause. They weren’t opening the boxes very quickly, then. 

He tried to think of something to say to get Lando’s mind off the oxygen situation. “Is Martin here this weekend?”

“Stop trying to distract me,” Lando snapped.

Oscar, chagrined, went silent. They stood still for a few moments. Oscar wondered if the rabbitty thump he could hear, very very faintly, was Lando’s heartbeat. 

“Yeah,” Lando said, finally. “He's here. And Max and P, too.” 

“Nice,” Oscar said, relieved. “What are you doing after the race?”

“Dunno,” Lando said. He drew a shallow breath. “Club or something. Maybe just leave.”

“Cool.” There was a thump on the box, which rattled it. Lando drew in another breath, this one quick and sharp. Nothing else happened, or rocked the box, but Lando’s breathing was still fast and shallow. 

Oscar made an executive decision: he reached out blindly for where he assumed Lando’s arm would be. 

Lando yelped.

“Sorry! Sorry, it's me. Obviously.”

“I know that,” Lando snapped. “Just wasn't— expecting it.” He didn't pull away. “What is it?”

“Just making sure we don't bump into each other,” Oscar lied. He ran his hand down Lando’s arm, found his wrist. He wrapped a hand around it, finding Lando’s pulse point. 

“What are you doing?” Lando asked. He sounded wary, nervous.

“Sorry, just— stay still, yeah?” Lando’s pulse was fast, and getting faster. “I’m just making sure I know where you are. I don't want to ram my head into yours if I move.”

“Right.” Lando didn't seem terribly convinced. 

“I know what Lewis had for lunch,” Oscar said. 

“What?” Lando asked, after a long moment. 

“He had a big bowl of coleslaw. With beans on the side. I guess it was the vegan option.”

“Oh.. kay?”

“So,” Oscar said, and waited for Lando to think about it. “George is trapped in a box with him. For at least fifteen minutes.”

It took Lando a few seconds. Then he cackled. “Oh, nasty.”

“Right.” 

“God, poor George.”

“Do you think he’ll say anything?”

“George?” Lando scoffed. “He’ll probably apologize. ‘Oh, sorry Lewis, I’m sure that was me…’”

Oscar grinned. He could feel Lando’s pulse slowing under his thumb. “If you're worried about anybody not surviving this, it should be George. He's being fumigated.” 

Lando cackled again, louder. “Do you think the Grand Prix has insurance for accidentally gassing a driver?” 

“They will after tonight.” 

“Ah, George. Well, he had a good run.” 

“RIP,” Oscar said, solemnly. “Died the way he lived.” 

“Usually it was Alex though…”

By then they were both laughing, and Lando’s pulse had steadied. When they quieted, he still hadn’t pulled away. A third cheer went up finally: this one was probably for Yuki and Liam, third from the bottom in the constructor’s standings. Oscar hoped Liam was enjoying these moments while he had the chance. 

After a moment Oscar shivered, the cold seeping in through his flimsy windbreaker. Lando moved a little closer. “Thanks,” he said. 

“For what?” 

“Just—being the calm one, I guess.” 

Oscar smiled. His own pulse had picked up, rather than slowed. Lando’s wrist was warm in his hand. “No problem.”

[cigarettessmokeandberries]

Fixer Upper Part Two (Melissa Schemmenti x reader)

The coffee machine is fixed and Gregory has won educator of the year! But, Melissa has to write his congratulations speech on top of her double classes. Only one solution...

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

The following day, the news found its way into Abbott- in honor of Gregory’s educator of the year award. Unlucky for Melissa, they chose her to present the award, adding more stress onto the older woman. She’s already stuck with two classes for the year.

After hearing of Melissa’s bad luck, Y/n set to work coming up with a speech about Gregory, but given his own inability to compliment his self and Melissa’s idea of re-gifting, she has her work set out for her.

A few moments after sitting down at her desk, Jacob rushes up to her, slightly out of breath.

“Y/n, Melissa is acting very strange around me and I am worried she might try to attack me.” Jacob says looking around as if she could be around any corner.

“Jacob, what?” Y/n questions with a worried smiled. Jacob moves around the desk and leans onto it before answering

“Ever since this morning she’s been giving me approving looks here and there and I am worried she is buttering me up so it will take me by surprise when she attacks.” Jacob whispers out. Y/n has to hold in a laugh looking at his worried face, knowing now what he is talking about.

“Jacob, if i tell you this you have to promise to keep it to yourself.” Jacob’s face drops from fear to a small frown as he leans in

“I won’t tell a soul.” He promises. Y/n knows better than to believe him but hopefully he will only tell Janine. If not, maybe she is slightly fucked.

As Jacob leans into listen, Y/n tells him about her run to Melissa’s favorite coffee shop yesterday and the note she left on her car with a forged signature. Jacob’s face breaks out into a giddy smile as she finishes her sentence.

“Oh my god, you are crushing hard.” Jacob gushes as he crosses his arms, leaning back on the desk. Y/n slaps his arm.

“Shut up. There is nothing wrong with being nice to someone.” She replies.

“I think you exceed being nice burning up your fingers on a coffee machine for Melissa.” Jacob jokes, backing off from the desk.

“I did that for everyone!” Y/n mumbles to him.

“Yeah? What’re you working on now?” Jacob questions as he goes to look at the speech Y/n is currently working on. She quickly turns it over before sending a glare Jacobs way.

“I kinda wish Melissa was gonna beat you up now.” Jacob raises his hands in surrender before walking out of the office.

Y/n lets out a sigh before flipping the paper back over and scanning her work. She didn’t have a crush on Melissa, she’s pretty sure she’s too far deep for that. Plus, she is grown woman, and grown woman don’t have crushes (she definitely has a crush on Melissa).

---

---

---

Lunch time arrives at Abbott and Melissa finds her seat next to Barbara and starts grading some of her classes work, needing to take this time in order to be able to finish both classes in a timely manner. As the teachers fill in to the breakroom, Jacob walks up to Melissa and she raises an eyebrow in his direction.

“You’re welcome, Melissa.” He says giddily before taking his seat. Melissa sighs before nodding her head toward him. Jacob’ll take what he can get, and that is all he will get. Melissa turns back to her phone, taking a break from the mountain she has left, before she turns back towards Jacob, having noticed Y/n’s absence for the second day in a row.

“Hey, Hill, where’s the other one of ya’?” Melissa asks, looking toward the empty seat beside Janine, who also looks up at the question. Jacob pauses for a moment “uh-” he starts but gets cut off from the door opening. Jacob lets out a breath of relief seeing Y/n walk in as he turns back to his conversation with Janine.

“You weren’t here yesterday and you were late today, what are ya up to?” Melissa raises her eyebrow up at her, suspicious.

“I just forgot my lunch in my car,” Y/n lifts up her lunch bag and takes her seat. Melissa stares a little longer before Jacob butts in.

“You never worry about anyone else who’s late.” Jacob whines, slightly offended. Melissa levels him with a glare before Janine pipes up as well.

“Seems like you like Y/n.” Janine jokes smiling. Her smile fading when Melissa moves her glare towards her.

“I just noticed it, pipsqueak.” Melissa tuts, taking a glance at Y/n who’s smiling down at her lunch. Melissa gives Janine and Jacob one more Schemmenti glare, returning to her phone once again. Barbara barely catches a small smile.

---

---

---

“-cause you can’t choose when people acknowledge you. This is your moment.” After searching the school for Melissa, running short on time to get the speech to her, Y/n overhears Melissa’s encouragement to Gregory in his classroom. The cameras outside the room zoom into Y/n waiting outside the door and then back to Melissa and Gregory’s conversation. As they continue their conversation, Y/n recalls all the times Melissa has gone without acknowledgement, and although everyone does, it just doesn’t seem right that a woman who does so much for the students and school doesn’t get the acknowledgement she deserves.

Y/n is brought out of her thoughts as Gregory makes his way out of the classroom, Melissa following behind.

“Hey, Melissa,” Y/n shouts, catching up in pace with her and handing her the speech. Melissa looks at the paper suspiciously for a moment before turning her gaze to the younger woman.

“What’s this?” Melissa starts to look over the paper. eyebrows scrunching in confusion.

“I know you were struggling to write the speech, so I thought I would help you out a little and write a small one. You already have so much to deal with, with two classes, and I just thought I would be able to take some of that stress away. I’m sorry if I-” Y/n’s rambling is cut off by Melissa’s hand on her shoulder.

“Hun, I can handle it. You don’t need to worry ‘bout me. But,” Melissa looks around and seeing the halls empty continues “Thank you. I appreciate it. This whole thing has been a shitshow.” Melissa jokes, smirking at the younger woman.

“Yeah, no problem. Only took a few minutes.” Y/n brushes off the praise, even though it did take going through Gregory’s work file (which Ava had yet to update) and a short snoop session through his desk to find something to fill the lines.

“Thanks, hun.” Melissa lifts the paper up with a smile and a nod before starting to walk toward the gym.

“Melissa,” Y/n calls out before she can get too far.

“Huh?” Melissa turns back and raises an eyebrow for Y/n to finish.

“I just-,” Y/n cuts herself off, trying to find the words, before taking a breath and meeting Melissa’s eyes, “I notice you, Melissa. You’re a great teacher and I- You deserve a lot more acknowledgement, that’s all. But, for whatever its worth, I notice you.” Y/n bites her lip, waiting only a moment for a reply, before fleeing down the hall.

Melissa watches Y/n down the hall, a realization kicking in as she turns into the gym.

*She’s never told Jacob about her favorite coffee shop*

[riotwritesthings]

An Agony We Deserve (Throwing Off Sparks)

WinterIron - M, 4.8k, WIP - reluctant soulmates, thriller/horror?, Bed sharing, accidental cuddling, guilt, flashbacks

There are legends. Soulmate bonds have started and ended wars, they used to reshape the world without any warning. People would change in an instant, abandon and betray everything, become completely unrecognizable, but those are just legends- It can’t be- But they are.

That's right we made it to chapter 2! can you believe it. anywhere here you go plz enjoy

Chapter 1

~~~

Chapter 2: if I think things through

Stark is pretending to sleep.

It’s been an hour since he’d stood up from the floor, declared himself “Too exhausted and not nearly caffeinated enough for this shit,” then collapsed face-down on the single mattress. He hasn’t moved a muscle since.

But Bucky knows he hasn’t slept.

Just like he knows that Stark is hungry, and that his head is pounding. That he’s uncomfortable in his suit and shoes but too stubborn to take them off. That it’s only intense focus keeping his breathing slow and steady as he fakes sleep.

He has no doubt that Stark knows the same things about him.

And Stark has to know that Bucky has been staring at him on and off for the past hour, but he hasn’t reacted. Bucky isn’t sure if it’s more stubbornness, or if he’s still in denial.

Bucky doesn’t know how the other man can deny it, he’d realized from the first instant-

From the contradiction of Hydra’s ice-cold conditioning and the warmth of Stark’s eyes. The hollow echo of his orders interrupted with the thundering of Stark’s heartbeat ringing in his ears. The usually steady, mechanical beat of his own pulse jumping to meet it while everything else fell away.

Straight away, he’d known.

He’s starting to get twitchy. He’s painfully aware of every second ticking by and the fact that he’s- they’re being hunted.

Its so weird, thinking in terms of they- He’s not alone, but it’s-

Bucky’s breath hitches and he forces it to steady again.

After decades of shit, what’s one more thing he doesn’t have a choice in?

He shoves his fingers through his hair and tells himself he’s not chasing the feeling of Stark’s hands grabbing him, grounding him. He can still feel the warmth of Stark’s skin against his palm.

Tension is building in Bucky’s chest, aching and nearly burning. He’s too aware of the irregular buzz of the bare bulb above his head, but he doesn’t trust himself to get up and turn it off. Not when every other thought he has is about crossing the room and-

At least with Hydra, he knew where his orders were coming from. Now the impulses come from nowhere, from him but not him, and he can’t decide which is worse.

Bucky shifts on the couch again, and the squeak of the springs is once again painfully loud in the small shack.

Stark still doesn’t react, and Bucky can tell that he’s doing it pointedly.

He can’t take it anymore.

Bucky clears his throat, but his voice still comes out hoarse as he says, “Stark-”

“Tony,” the man cuts him off without lifting his face from the bed, the words muffled. “You might as fucking well call me Tony, at this point.”

It catches Bucky off guard, and he forgets what he was going to ask. “Kinda hard to tell if you’re talkin’ to me or th’ mattress, honestly,” he says instead.

Stark rolls onto his back with an angry flail of limbs. He lifts his head enough to glare, and for an instant Bucky is right back in that first moment, everything falling away in the face of even a hint of warmth.

He- Stark- Tony-

Even thinking the name sends a shiver down Bucky’s spine, has his breath catching again, and the man is still glaring at him.

“Why aren’t you sleepin’?” Bucky demands, annoyance in his voice that he doesn’t actually feel.

He wants to be annoyed.

Frustration and annoyance are easy, familiar, and at least Bucky knows they come from him.

All he really feels though is exhausted. His eyes ache and his head is throbbing. It feels like his entire body has been replaced with heavy metals and he can’t even think about moving unless its to-

“Maybe,” Stark says sharply, pulling him from his drifting thoughts, “I can’t seem to fall asleep because someone is staring at me.”

Bucky blinks slowly, still staring at him.

Stark’s warm brown eyes are bloodshot as he squints against the light. His shoulders are slowly falling away from their curled, defense position, like he just can’t hold them up anymore. With a sigh he scrubs one hand over his face and then pushes it up into his hair. Bucky wishes he had the man’s hands in his hair instead, wishes he could run his fingers through-

“No defense?” Stark asks with a weak smirk that just as quickly falls away.

It takes Bucky a little too long to answer. Shaking off the hazy numbness of being activated is always a slow process, and he doesn’t really have a defense.

“Not much else t’ look at,” he finally replies, and doesn’t add that he’s barely been able to tear his eyes away.

“Excellent comeback,” Stark scoffs. He runs his fingers through his hair again and the strands of silver scattered throughout it catch in the light. When he looks up at Bucky again- warm- there’s a determined set to his jaw. “Get over here,” he says shortly.

Bucky blinks slowly again. "What?

“I know you heard me,” Stark snaps, and Bucky tries not to get distracted by the fact that he’s started shrugging off his jacket with clumsy motions. “We are both useless right now,” he says, “we need some fucking sleep, and that’s only going to happen if-”

Stark huffs, throwing his jacket carelessly into a corner. Then he starts working on his tie.

Bucky is hyper aware of the silk falling away, the exposed hollow of Stark’s throat as he undoes the top couple buttons of his fitted shirt. There’s a shine of sweat on his skin that Bucky can practically taste, and if he sunk his teeth into that spot-

His line of thought comes to a screeching halt. He didn’t- Bucky doesn’t even know where that came from- He hasn’t thought about anything like-

It’s been decades since he’s wanted anyone like that, like this, and it throws him off balance almost as badly at that first moment he met Stark.

And he does know where the thought came from. It’s the same reason he’s here, The inexplicable connection that had him fighting beside Stark instead of killing him, following the man away from the rooftop that he’d been ordered to. It’s worming its way deeper into his mind and he barely even recognizes it happening. It’s so different than the cold grip of the conditioning, so much more subtle. He may not even know all the ways it’s affecting him, and how the hell is he supposed to resist that-

Through the ringing in his ears Bucky slowly becomes aware that Stark is still talking, stumbling over his words in what could be nerves or exhaustion. Maybe both.

“We- if we’re really- I just- I don’t think I can sleep unless-”

“What?” Bucky asks again when Stark trails off. His voice comes out rough, and he realizes that he hasn’t been breathing. He’s not sure if it’s actually working to hide his returning panic.

Stark huffs again and there’s a flush rising in his cheeks that could be anger. Bucky doesn’t think it is.

“I’m- I can’t sleep with you sar far away,” Stark bites out, glaring at the wall over Bucky’s shoulder. “So would you just- please get over here and shut up?”

Bucky is on his feet before he even realizes he’s moving. He doesn’t know if he could stop himself if he wanted to, and he doesn’t want to.

The thought that he’s the reason Stark can’t sleep, that he can do something about it-

It’s like a pull in Bucky’s chest that he doesn’t want to fight. He’s crossed the couple steps to stand beside the single mattress before it even occurs to him to try, that the pull isn’t coming from him, and he finally hesitates.

“What, you want me to sit on the floor?” He demands and considers just going back to the couch. The idea makes his chest twist.

Stark is still glaring at the wall. He grinds his teeth for a second before he slowly starts curling his legs in and clearing a little square of space at the foot of the bed.

“Oh good, like a dog,” Bucky says with a snort even as he lowers himself to the corner of the mattress. The end of the bed frame sags a little more under his weight, and as he carefully shifts to lean his back against the wall he asks, “D’you want me to read you a story, too?”

“Dogs don’t read, you’re mixing metaphors,” Stark huffs as he drops his head down onto the flat pillow, eyes falling closed. “And again, shut up.”

Bucky hums noncommittally.

Part of him wants to keep antagonizing the man, and he’s not sure why. Maybe because its easy. He’s not second guessing everything before he says it, wondering what he should say, what he would have said, before.

When it comes to Stark, he doesn’t think through anything. He moves and speaks before he realizes he’s doing it and it’s easy but it’s-

It’s not real.

So Bucky keeps his mouth shut, even when Stark mutters “fucking K9 Poppins over here” under his breath. It looks like the man is already halfway to actually falling asleep and Bucky has to tear his gaze away from the line of his jaw.

There really isn’t anything else to look at in the tiny farmhouse, and Bucky’s eyelids get heavy as he feels all the tension that had been building inside him fading away.

Stark was right, being over here makes a huge difference. They’re still being hunted, Bucky still has no idea what he’s- what they’re going to do next, but suddenly he’s finding it difficult to care.

He can feel the warmth coming off of Stark’s legs where they’re curled up near his hip. The way the bed shifts slightly as Stark takes slow, even breaths. It’s hard to think about anything else.

Bucky’s eyes drift back to the other man, watching the rise and fall of his chest. His shirt has fallen open a little more and Bucky can barely see the curve of his collarbone.

Stark kicks one leg out, knocking his shin against the side of Bucky’s thigh.

“Starin’ again,” he accuses, his voice slurred. He doesn’t pull his leg away.

With a snort Bucky looks away again, tipping his head back against the wall. His fingers itch to curl around Stark’s ankle, feel the warmth of his skin directly, so he crosses his arms instead.

His eyelids are getting heavier and heavier. Maybe he just needs to rest his eyes for a second.

~~~

Bucky wakes up with his face pressed against soft fabric and the feeling of fingers gently running through his hair.

For several long seconds, he doesn’t remember where he is or why.

For a moment all he knows is peace, and comfort. He’s so warm.

Someone is carefully working on a tangle in his hair, and his pillow is moving gently with someone’s even breath.

It all feels so right.

But as he continues to wake up, Bucky slowly remembers why.

Stark-

Tony.

Bucky has hazy memories of dry lectures about soulbonds throughout history and the debates surrounding them. He doesn’t remember if he really believed any of it, at the time, but he definitely never expected to find himself with a soulmate of his own.

Fingers pull a little harder at his hair, like Tony can tell he’s awake, and Bucky reluctantly cracks his eyes open.

The sun is creeping through the countless cracks in the walls, but it’s not as overwhelmingly bright as the light had seemed when they were driving out of Germany. The sound of the wind through the overgrown plants outside isn’t as deafening, and Bucky feels like he can finally think.

Everything feels more- settled. Even if it’s settled into a different place.

It probably has a lot to do with the fact that he toppled over in his sleep. His head is resting on Tony’s stomach, and at some point Tony threw his legs over Bucky’s so he could stretch out on his back. Tony’s fingers are working at the same spot in his hair.

Bucky drags in a deep, shaking breath. He still doesn’t know what they’re supposed to do next.

Tony tugs a little harder at his hair, and his voice is sleep-rough as he asks, “Have you ever heard of the Gordian Knot?”

“Do not go Alexander The Great on my hair,” Bucky grumbles back.

Tony’s stomach jumps beneath his head as the man makes a noise that sounds an awful lot like a repressed laugh. It’s a pretty drastic change from the angry denial and snapping Tony was doing earlier, and Bucky wonders if it’s just because he’s slept.

He knows he’ll have to actually face Tony at some point, so Bucky props himself up just enough that he can turn his head without actually lifting it. It makes something in his chest pull painfully tight to see a pained wince on Tony’s face.

“You need to shave,” Tony says flatly, the muscles of his stomach twitching beneath Bucky’s stubbled chin.

Bucky hums. Then he presses his chin down a little harder, making Tony jerk with a yelp.

"This is an expensive shirt, do not sandpaper it,” Tony protests and yanks at the stands of Bucky’s hair still caught between his fingers.

It sends a shiver through Bucky that he doesn’t know how to- doesn’t want to deal with right now. So he props himself up a little more and does his best to ignore the sense of loss that hits him when Tony finally releases his hair.

Tony stares at him for a second, considering, and then says, “Not that I’m not a catch, total s-soulmate lottery here-”

Something about the words strikes Bucky as- off, but before he can figure out why Tony is continuing.

“-But why aren’t you more upset about this?” Tony asks, his eyes searching Bucky’s face. A weak attempt at a smirk pulls at his lips as he adds, “Or were you just waiting until I was finished with the full-scale freakout? Very polite of you.”

“Figured you wouldn’ want to share that either.”

“Quick learner,” Tony says with approval, his smile getting a little more real.

Tony watches him as Bucky considers how to actually answer the question, considers why he hasn’t reached the same levels of panic and denial that Tony did. It’s not a hard question to answer, and he figures there’s not much point in lying.

“Kinda used to not being in control, at this point,” Bucky admits slowly, dropping his gaze. He gets caught up staring at the hollow of Tony’s throat again.

He can see it when Tony swallows hard.

“Fuck,” Tony finally says, his chest hitching. "That’s- you should be more upset. This whole thing is- it’s kind of really fucked up." When Bucky’s eyes flick back up to him, Tony grins a little and adds, “No offense. I’m sure you’re a ‘swell fella’ or whatever, when you’re not in murder mode.”

It startles a rough huff of laughter out of Bucky.

He’s the assassin turned fugitive who can barely be trusted with his own mind. He’s pretty sure the most fucked up part is that Tony got stuck with him of all people as a soulmate.

And Tony has no idea just how fucked up their situation is. He doesn’t know what-

Bucky’s stomach rolls and twists as it comes rushing back to him. The sound of Howard’s choked final breath- the feeling of Maria’s throat under his-

Both of them- He killed them. He remembers the snow falling around him, not feeling the cold of it. The crunch of it beneath his boots-

The tacky feeling of blood-

He doesn’t know what his expression is doing as the waves of memory crash over him, but Tony has been watching all of it with eyes that suddenly seem much more alert.

Tony is opening his mouth, eyebrows pulled together in what might be concern, and all the fake peace that Bucky woke up with is crashing down around him.

His blood is running cold, breath catching in his throat, and he- What if Tony asks-

They’re way too close for Bucky to try and claim nothing is wrong, in every possible way. Tony can feel his breathing picking up. Tony can probably feel the complicated mess of emotions trying to choke him.

The guilt is overwhelming. It’s filling his lungs, crawling up his throat.

“Are you-” Tony starts, slow and careful.

Bucky’s entire body freezes, like he’s finally feeling the cold of that night. He wants to look away from those clever eyes, too warm, but he can’t.

What if Tony already knows-

But what Tony asks is, “Are you taking your turn with the panic attack?”

“No,” Bucky croaks out even though he probably is. Panic is the least of his problems.

What kind of fucked up universal powers would do this? Would forceTony to be here like this, with him?

“No, I- I’m-” he stutters. He has to find some way out of this situation before- before Tony reads the truth all over his face- “I- bathr-room-”

“Sure, I also hyperventilate when I need to pee,” Tony says dryly. But at least he starts pulling his legs up, untangling them from Bucky’s.

Bucky sits up too quickly. The shift of his weight causes the bedframe to creak beneath him, and then two of the feet give out.

The end of the bed hits the ground and Bucky has to quickly adjust his weight to remain upright as he slips to the floor.

Tony isn’t as quick.

He slides down the mattress in a flail of limbs and lands practically in Bucky’s lap. His elbow collides with the side of Bucky’s head, but then his arm wraps around Bucky’s shoulders and they’re-

They’re pressed together from hip to chest and he can feel Tony’s startled huff of breath ruffling his hair. When Bucky can’t help but look up at him, Tony is so close.

His eyes are still so warm.

At least Bucky isn’t hyperventilating anymore. He’s not breathing at all.

Tony’s eyelashes are so long. His calloused fingers catch at the shoulder of Bucky's shirt and then grip tightly.

When Tony takes a shaking inhale his chest presses more firmly against Bucky's, warm skin and metal hidden beneath his shirt.

What else was Bucky doing, before he found his arms around Tony’s waist in an attempt to steady him? What else could possibly be important?

He can’t remember now.

Nothing is more important.

All that matters is the fan of Tony’s breath across his lips, and if he gets just a little closer-

The steady thump of Tony’s heartbeat jumps a little, obvious when they're pressed so close together.

It’s nowhere near the frantic racing of Bucky’s pulse, still struggling against all the guilt pulling his chest tight-

Reality comes crashing down on him again, snapping him out of his daze.

Bucky jerks back, away from Tony and the inexplicable urge to get closer.

He shouldn’t- he should be getting far away from Tony, none of this is real-

After what he did-

The back of Bucky’s head collides with the wall, stopping him in place before he can get very far.

Luckily Tony seems to have woken up from the haze as well, and he lurches away in the opposite direction. Even if it doesn’t feel lucky, even if it feels like the loss of contact is tearing something open in his chest-

No, it’s not real-

Tony slides himself haltingly across the uneven floor, putting a couple of feet between them. He’s still staring at Bucky with wide eyes.

Bucky scrambles to his feet and starts backing towards the door. He needs-

He just needs a second, needs to breathe. He doesn't need to be wondering what Tony's lips would feel like against his, what they would taste like-

Most of all, he needs to figure out how to handle the fact that his soulmate is Tony Stark, after what he did to Tony’s family.

And Tony doesn’t know.

It takes all of Bucky’s effort to tear his gaze away, to force himself to ignore the tearing, burning feeling in his chest as he turns and reaches for the doorknob.

“Be back,” he promises as he pulls the door open with a loud creak.

He’s talking to Tony, but he’s also talking to the yawning pit that’s opening wider in his chest with every step he takes. He will be back, even the thought of leaving- of leaving Tony-

He just needs a second to himself, needs to fight down the guilty panic before it comes spilling out of him.

“Don’t tell me it’s an outhouse situation here,” Tony calls after him. His voice is shaking despite his obvious attempts not to let it. Like he’s also struggling to breathe through the growing distance.

The thud of the door shutting between them makes Bucky waver on his feet.

He only makes it a couple of steps away from the shack before his knees give out. He slumps to the ground as the memories overwhelm him.

Snow. Blood. The smell of gunpowder and burnt rubber.

The unfamiliar sound of his own name, spoken by a man he should have recognized.

Howard and Maria are two names on a long list of lives Bucky has taken, but now he has to look their son in the eye and-

And Tony will find out. Bucky can’t avoid the truth when he can’t avoid Tony, when Tony is already under his skin and they-

They’re soulmates. Whatever that ends up meaning.

Bucky has to- has to tell him. Or he won’t be able to look at Tony without the guilt trying to choke him, and he- he wants to look into those warm eyes.

He has to tell Tony. And then- and then Tony can decide. And fuck, maybe it’ll make Tony hate him enough to overpower this bond that neither of them chose.

Even if the thought of- if Tony leaves, if Bucky doesn’t know where he is, within arm’s reach-

A pained noise tears its way out of Bucky’s chest as he curls in tighter around himself. His face feels wet and every breath wheezes out of his lungs.

He can still smell blood.

Bucky wants to go back inside and wrap himself around Tony again, let the rest of the world fade away, but- that’s not real.

And when he goes back inside, he has to tell Tony. He has to ruin the tiny sliver of peace that he has, and even if it is fake-

He doesn’t want to lose it.

But he might. He has to.

By the time Bucky’s breathing returns to something approaching normal the sun has climbed higher in the sky. He slowly becomes aware of the hard ground beneath his knees, the wind stirring his hair. His hands are shaking where they’re fisted in the dirt.

The warmth of the sun on his back is nothing compared to the warmth of waking up with Tony’s legs thrown over his-

Bucky sucks in a shuddering breath and begins slowly pushing himself to his feet.

Even with the conversation that’s coming, the confession, every step he takes back towards the farmhouse is a relief. He can feel the distance between him and Tony closing in the loosening of the knot in his chest, the irrational steadying of his pulse.

He pauses at the door, wipping at the tears still covering his cheeks. Time to possibly destroy their bond before it can even really take hold.

Why is he disappointed by that thought? Bucky has to remind himself that he should want freedom- He does want it-

As soon as he steps back into the shack Tony’s head jerks up to look at him, a complicated mix of emotions on his face. Bucky can identify relief and what might be concern, but the rest of it is a mystery he wishes he could solve.

Tony quickly drops his gaze again, apparently returning to glaring at the old landline mounted on the wall. The tension strung through his entire body is obvious, his hands shaking until he clenches them together.

They fall into a silence that hangs heavily, filling the air with what Bucky can’t bring himself to say. He needs to, he knows that, but he can’t force the words out. Tony’s next breath shakes slightly on the inhale, like maybe he knows that he’s waiting for something.

Or maybe Bucky is projecting. It’s impossible to know, and he’s pretty sure that would have bothered him more even yesterday.

Bucky opens his mouth, but what comes out is, “Pretty sure th’ phone doesn’ work.”

His voice is raggged, thick with emotion, and Tony’s gaze flicks back up to him again.

“I fixed it,” Tony says dismissively. He slumps back further into the couch, crossing his arms tightly across his chest.

“By glarin’ at it?” Bucky can’t help asking as he shuffles a little further into the room.

Tony huffs and his lips pull up slightly at the corners, like he’s trying not to smile.

“While you were definitely not panicking,” Tony says, finally looking up at him again, “I’ve been thinking about how completely fucked we probably are.”

Right. They’re still being hunted.

All of the different people looking for them had been all he could think about last night. And between waking up to Tony’s warmth and the realization of what he’d taken from Tony, he’d managed to completely forget.

Tony is watching him closely, no doubt taking note of Bucky’s surprise despite his best attempt to hide it. Bucky is sure that he’s going to ask, and he’s trying to prepare himself to just say it-

“So I glared at the phone until it started working again,” Tony says instead, returning to doing just that, “and surprisingly, it even still has service.”

Bucky immediately misses the weight of his warm eyes, no matter how heavy.

“We- I need to figure out what’s happening,” Tony continues, uncrossing his arms and flexing his hands, “who our biggest concern is, what they’re saying- I need to call Rhodey, he’ll know, but-”

When Tony trails off to scrub at his face Bucky can’t help drifting closer, his heart twisting in his chest.

“But?” Bucky prompts. He stops moving when something occurs to him, and he reluctantly asks, “Do- should I go so you can-”

“No!” Tony says quickly, half-rising from the couch with the force of his answer. His eyes go wide and he sits back down, mouth working for a second before he drops his gaze and grumbles, "Don’t- don’t leave the room again. For a bit."

Bucky doesn’t let himself sigh in relief and takes a couple of steps closer. Tony is still grinding his teeth, like he has something else to say, and Bucky waits.

He doesn’t think about the things he needs to say.

"I don’t know what to say," Tony gets out in a rush of air, dropping his head back against the couch and closing his eyes. "I don’t- how the fuck am I going to explain this? How do I- even start to explain what- what it’s like?"

Bucky doesn’t know how to help. He can barely make out all the things the bond is doing, all the ways it’s already affected him, he can’t explain any of it to himself, much less anyone else.

“Blame th’ contagious Hydra brainworms?” He suggests weakly, trying for a grin, and Tony’s weak huff of laughter is gratifying.

“Somehow, I think that might be even worse,” Tony says dryly. He pushes himself to his feet and waves a hand at Bucky, saying, “Go- go sit somewhere and pretend you’re not listening. I’m going to call him and I’ll- I’ll figure out what to say.”

He can tell how nervous Tony is to make the call, but Bucky doesn't actually know him well enough to know exactly why. Tony could be worried about how 'Rhodey' will react, or how bad their situation will turn out to be, or any number of other things.

Bucky wants to though, wants to know everything about Tony, more than anyone else. Even if it's not real, even if he doesn't deserve it-

Tony swerves on his way to the phone, bumping their shoulders together casually before stepping away. He firmly doesn't look at Bucky while he does it, but there's a hint of color in his cheeks.

The brief contact sends a bolt of- of something through Bucky that makes his breath catch, makes his steps falter on his way to the other side of the shack. It’s comfort and familiarity and a hundred other things he doesn’t want to look into right now.

He tries to remind himself that it’s not real, but it’s getting harder to care.

[avastyetwats]

"Well, M did talk about how brilliant a man Charles Vane was, so I'm not surprised this was a set up." The news didn't shock nor worry him, he was still calm and even appeared bored about it. He simply shrugged it off. "Yet he seemed quite interested in me, still. It was nice sharing personal details about myself with someone for once." It was quite remarkable how calm Flint was about all of this, how he didn't seem worried about any of it and like the setup wasn't that big of a deal, really. "Shame he's helping a man like Lowe. I quite liked the guy. I can see why M had a crush on him." He swears he could hear M groaning through the headpiece and a loud 'no, he didn't!' from Stede in the back.

He quirked a brow at Jack's comment, however, about how dumb they were if they didn't know where the bioweapon was. How the hell were they supposed to know that? But when his agent struck Jack, Flint shot him a glare. "Back the fuck up." He growled at the agent who look displeased at being scolded for what he did when they'd just be insulted. "If you let a little insult like that get under your skin, then yeah, you are a bit fucking dumb." Flint scoffed before returning his attention to Jack. "Gonna be honest, she does scare me a little, but I don't think she'll be getting free anytime soon. And if the agents that are with her are as sensitive as this one here," he nodded to the agent that had hit Jack. "I can't promise her own visage will remain intact." He took a deep breath. "Anywho, back to the bioweapon." He folded his arms across his chest before talking about Charles, his brows furrowing at what he heard Jack mutter under his breath. "What?" He asked, wondering if he heard that right. "The fuck did you say?" Did he say Charles was trying to stop it?

The other agent grabbed Jack by the hair and yanked his head back for him to look up at Flint. That earned the agent a strange, uncertain look from Flint and then he looked back at the other Agent who looked like he was ready to hit Jack again if he said something else he didn't like. Flint suddenly felt uneasy and like something was off... "Give us the room." He told the two agents who then shot him a look. "He isn't going to talk with the two of you hitting him every fucking second, so get the fuck out and let us talk!" He ordered and the two men stood there for a moment, looking back and forth between each other.

"We were assigned to help interrogate--"

"I don't give a fuck. Your methods are not working. You can stand outside the door and listen, but you're ruining our chances of getting any decent information from him." His jaw clenched and his lip twitched. "Get. The. Fuck. Out." And with that, the man released Jack's hair, though not gently, and left the room. He could hear M asking what the fuck he was doing just as the door behind him closed and then he reached up to shut off the ear piece before looking back at Jack. "Is this office sound proof?"

Oh he should be very afraid of Anne Bonny. Jack had the brains but she was the muscle. It didn’t mean he didn’t struggle against the men that had him though, and Anne was furious. Her nose was dripping with blood, and it took four men to subdue her. She snarled. “ Don’t you touch him! Jack, just do as he says! “ She spit blood out onto one of the agent’s shoes.

Jack grumbled. “ I told Chaz we should’ve stocked more boys. Men like you like them. — ow!! “ He was thrown down into the chair in his main office, and any sound of him hurting sent Anne to her feet, scuffling again. But the criminal laughed, his bloodied face coated in a shit eating grin. “ He was right too. You came right into our little rouse. “

[links-hella-fine-booty]

I have way too many emotions to process and everything bothers me