#roach bites for the world....

[ziotithe]

i dont think i could ever be trusted near puppygirls tbh i literally have 2 missing fingernails rn cuz i bite tooo hard and wayy too much. i think i would accidentally kill one if i ever got my hands on it

[lunememes]

🌙 * ― 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃 ( a collection of unhinged and relatable things said on discord. feel free to change wording as needed! do not add to the list. )

❛  you know bullying is my love language and you’re still here so… ❜ ❛  i mean... who am i to say no to that. ❜ ❛  hey, some might be into that. i won’t judge. much. ❜ ❛  we can both be dumb but pretty. ❜ ❛  because you wanna know why? fictional men can't disappoint me like real life men can. ❜ ❛ i need someone that’d end the world for me.  ❜ ❛ can’t be sad with dick / pussy. or nice tits.  ❜ ❛  thinking of how they're all old in this movie like wow i love dilfs and milfs. ❜ ❛  he fucking is like a ROACH, CAN'T EVER GET RID OF HIM. ❜ ❛  [name] do not encourage their antics, I BEG OF YOU. ❜ ❛  don't bully me, i'll cry. ❜ ❛  [name]..... why are you such a people pleaser. ❜ ❛  i am an indecisive bitch okay. ❜ ❛  don't squish his TUMMY! ❜ ❛  fair enough but what did you do dumb bitch? ❜ ❛ i have a flyswatter, i will smack him.  ❜ ❛  oh god yeah, add that motherfucker as well... the hate list grows. ❜ ❛  he gets no peace in any universe. ❜ ❛  if they get hurt, they get hurt. ❜ ❛  no love… there is no love in this house. ❜ ❛  truly, the braincells are not in my head. ❜ ❛ i wanna grab his waist. ❜ ❛  they just… need to fuck the anger out. ❜ ❛  could be worse but i'm judging. ❜ ❛ yes, oil me up baby.  ❜ ❛  don't you shush me. ❜ ❛  how dare you make me NOT distracted. ❜ ❛  i'm sure you've seen each other naked before, this is nothing new. ❜ ❛  suffer. ❜ ❛  i ... fucking THIEF. ❜ ❛  old men are just superior. ❜ ❛  sometimes people just deserve to be stabbed. ❜ ❛  bisexuals don't sit normally. ❜ ❛  i never said i was smart. ❜ ❛  what am i to say about this? want me to kiss your booboos better? ❜ ❛  JOKES ON YOU, I ACTUALLY DO, AHAHAHAHA. ❜ ❛  we both know you have a mask kink. ❜ ❛  kick him six feet under. ❜ ❛  to be fair i only killed those at the gate. ❜ ❛  well sooooorry, can't all be goody-two-shoes like [name]. ❜ ❛  i'm gonna murder you. ❜ ❛  it's because you're OLD. ❜ ❛  we're just ... too nice for our own good. ❜ ❛  and then you got sweaty [name] out here going batshit crazy and killing a whole building of people. ❜ ❛  we are in fact too dumb and yet here we are. ❜ ❛  actually i'm a liar, i'd let a lot of men get it. ❜ ❛  oOP NOT ME SEEING ANOTHER VIDEO/PICTURE AND I THINK HE'S FINGERING HER. ❜ ❛  he's adorable when he isn't being a gremlin and trying to randomly bite me. ❜ ❛  it’s in my contract of existing to bully everyone. ❜ ❛  well clearly you enjoy it since you’re still here. ❜ ❛  feeling a little called out? ❜ ❛  anything can be a dildo if you're brave enough. ❜

[lipglossanon]

Got No Human Grace

◤──•~❉᯽❉~•──◥

Las Plagas!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

it’s finally here 😬

Anon asked: Leon coming back form a mission but he’s still infected knowing its the last of its kind it sort of takes over to breed with the reader

I’m unsure of this one! 😅 I hope it makes sense; I tried something a little different to sort of convey Leon changing. Let me know what you think!! 💜 las plagas!Leon came out more of a soft boi than the intense version I was aiming for 🤔

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, infected Leon, body alterations, biting, marking, scenting, masturbation, dirty talk/thoughts, breeding kink times ten, big dick Leon supremacy, unprotected sex, creampie, monster fucking kink

Kinda looked over so sorry about mistakes lmao

Title from Eyes Without A Face by Bill Idol 😌

◤──•~❉᯽❉~•──◥

Leon ached from head to toe, muscles he didn’t even know existed making his body scream out in pain and exhaustion. He dropped Ashley off at the rendezvous point days ago and he’s just now getting home. After flying nonstop for hours on end, he just wants to take a shower and collapse into bed. 

Unlocking his door, he pauses at the threshold, head cocked and listening. His chest aches, a prickly sting beginning to irritate him before it sweeps from his chest up to his head making his eyes water. He doesn’t hear or sense anything so he slowly relaxes, entering his house and shutting the door. 

A small sound off to the side has him reacting without even thinking. His knife is embedded in the roach, pinning the insect to the base board, feet away from him, before Leon even realizes he has moved.  He shakes his head as he walks over to the dead bug, pulling his knife out with a frown. 

He’s definitely more on edge than he thought, grimacing at the gross slime on his blade. Tossing it down on the rug as he passes the living room (making a mental note to clean it later), he makes his way to the bathroom for a quick shower. 

Taking one of the fastest showers in recorded history, Leon barely tugs on a pair of clean briefs before he’s collapsing into bed and passing the fuck out for sixteen hours of dead-to-the-world sleep. 

He’s dreaming he thinks. He must be. 

He’s sinking 

                    down..

                              down..

                                         down..

Landing on something soft. 

Silky. 

Warm. 

His chest feels likes it’s blooming open. 

Like an exotic flower. 

a Venus fly trap

Silky warmth like a cocoon envelops his thoughts making them cotton soft. He luxuriates in the softness, rubbing himself against it like a cat in heat. He feels his cock stiffen as the softness keeps pressing in all around him. 

His chest cracks open more, heat blooming outward as he pants in the dark, rutting against the soft feeling encompassing his body. God, it feels so good. So nice. He hasn’t felt this comforted in ages. He wants more. 

He’s sinking down again, a soft suction pulling him further into the warm dark silk, wrapping him tighter in its embrace. 

Down

Down

Down

        ..until..

                         settling on the

b o t t o m

 

His chest feels fully cracked open. Heat and want pooling out like tendrils in the breeze. Long, writhing tentacles reaching for Leon. Touching, caressing, stroking. 

He frowns in the dark, the warm slick feeling of a

cracked open head the insides spilling out the lovely red making him excitedthrobbingneedy

a wet tendril curling around his thoughts along with his body coaxing him back into that silky bliss. The tendrils wrap around his cock drawing his attention back to that wanton feeling, still hard and dripping from earlier. 

A sliver of thought seeps into the warm gooey heat of his brain. He needs to cum. Needs it desperately. What he wouldn’t give to bury himself in some warm body, let them work him over til he’s spilling inside, gifting them with his seed, sharing his bloodline so he’s not the last. 

That draws him up short, brain sludgy as the slick tentacles stroke his dick, teasing across his balls. Bloodline? He thinks dizzily, cock weeping precum as he writhes against the slow hand job he’s getting from the tendrils wrapped around him. 

He whines as the motion picks up, making him fuck into the slick tunnel surrounding his dick. He needs to cum so bad. Fill up some pretty girl. Ohhh like that neighbor next door. Leon’s cock kicks and drools more precum thinking of you. 

You’re so pretty and sweet. You don’t know each other that well but Leon’s eager to change that. He’s rocking his hips even faster, picturing your shy smile the last time you ran into him followed by the thought of how pretty your cunt will be when he fucks you. 

With a low groan, he’s cumming all over the slick tentacles as they stroke his cock. His balls draw up as the tendrils milk him for every drop of cum in his body. As soon as it teeters on too much, they slip away leaving Leon to bask in his pleasurable silence. Something snaps into place in his mind and

¡₲ⱠØⱤł₳₴ Ⱡ₳₴ ₱Ⱡ₳₲₳₴!

he 

wakes 

up 

His mind feels slow, disoriented, not even sure where he’s at, as he raises up from his tangled sheets. His boxers are soaked, sticking to his half hard cock as he shifts to sit on the edge of his bed. His lip curls in disgust. He must’ve had a pretty damn good dream to make such a mess. 

An image of you zings in his brain making his cock chub up in his briefs. 

“Fuck,” he hisses out, leaning back on his palms as his dick quickly thickens, pressing obscenely against his underwear. 

He slips the band down to press underneath his balls, cock slapping against his stomach and dripping cum everywhere. 

He lays completely flat against his bed, reaching down to run his fingers across the tip before gently tugging the foreskin down to swipe a thumb over his slit. 

He pants as he tugs on his cock, letting himself relax into the sheets and spreading his thighs. He’s so sensitive that it leaves him groaning loudly as he grips himself tightly to hump his hips into his fist.  

Wonder if you’re home, he thinks sluggishly, hand picking up speed. He’d love to see you today, maybe see if you want to get dinner. Maybe even see if you’d like to come back here and let him take you apart over his sheets. 

He moans and pumps himself harder, precum dripping over his knuckles making it sound wet as he beats off. He thinks of you begging for him, begging to breed your cute pussy, please Leon just give it to me I need it please Leon please need you to cream my pussy til it takes knock me up need you—

He’s growling out a moan as he cums all over his fist and twitching abs. It seems never ending as spurt after hot spurt of jizz spills across his fingers to drip down his balls. Once he’s completely spent, he heaves a sigh trying to regulate his heartbeat. 

He slowly sits up, mindful to not make any more of a mess. Slipping his briefs off, he haphazardly wipes what cum he can on them then tosses them in the hamper. He heads to the bathroom to take another quick shower which ends up being a long one as he jerks off again to thoughts of you. 

As he spills his cum down the drain, he groans in frustration at feeling like a teenager all over again. It’s kind of insane how horny he feels and how it seems to be all centered around you. Maybe he just needs to shoot his shot and see if he can get you in his bed. Worry about semantics later. 

Feeling more settled, he finally finishes his shower and gets dressed. He knows you’re off today since it’s the weekend so he’s just going to bide his time until he can bump into you this afternoon. You always go out for a quick stroll around the block, not that he’s memorized it by now, but you seem to be a creature of habit. 

And Leon is right. As soon as he settles on his porch steps, just starting to enjoy the sunny day, he sees you out of the corner of his eye. You’re heading back to your house from the end of the street so you’ll have to pass by him. 

He watches you under his lashes until you slow your pace down right outside his house. 

“Leon! Hi, did you get back last night!”

He looks up and sees you shuffling your feet next to the pathway up to his front porch. His eyes drift from your tennis shoes up to your bare legs (wrapped around his waist, over his shoulders, thighs pressed—) to your shorts and simple t-shirt, up to your neck (so empty and bare) and finally your face. You’re smiling at him but it’s slowly morphing into concern until he smiles at you in return making you smile even brighter. 

He wants to sink his teeth into you and never let go, wants to pin you down and make you cry on his cock, begging for him to breed your needy pussy, he wants—

“Sorry, I’m a little tired today,” he laughs, standing up to walk toward you. 

“Oh no worries, if I’m bothering you I can—“

“No,” his words rush out, “no bother, I was actually hoping to see you.”

He pauses an arms length in front of you, realizing how much smaller you are compared to him. It sparks another wave of want, knowing he could manhandle you how he wants. 

While distracted, your hand moves up to his jaw but holds just shy of touching him, a question hovering around your eyes that makes him smile at you again. 

“You seem tired,” you drop your hand back down, concern making your brows pinch, “your eyes looked..”

He watches as you search his face again but then rub your neck, a sheepish grin ticking your lips up. 

“Nevermind, must’ve been a trick of the light or a shadow or something,” you sigh and roll your neck, “heck maybe I’m just too tired.”

His eyes catalogue everything about you, his chest feeling tight, 

breed her pretty perfect the perfect mate to fill over and over breed her mate her mark her sink teeth deep spill hot red blood-

making him rub a hand over the center until the ache slips away into nothing. 

“Uh, so I was wondering if you were free tonight?” he grins at you, flirty and sweet, “nothing fancy, I was just going to order out and we could watch a movie?”

You duck your head but Leon can see the smile on your face making the  plagasbutterflies in his chest flutter. 

“Sure,” you look back up at him, hands clasped in front of you, “would seven tonight be okay?”

“Perfect,” his smile widens, making his cheeks hurt, “any kinda food you prefer? Any allergies?”

You giggle and touch his arm, “I’m good with whatever and luckily no allergies.“

“Good, that’s good.”

perfect perfect mate good strong genetics breeding  compatible

“I’ll see you tonight then!”

He waves as you walk the half block down to your house and watches as you slip inside your home. Once he can’t see you anymore, he goes back inside and cleans. He needs to look presentable. He grabs his knife from last night and cleans it thoroughly before slipping it into his bedside drawer. Then, he goes over the entire house making sure it’s suitable for a mate date. 

Once that’s finished, he orders pizza. It’s nothing fancy, like promised, just something quick and easy. The doorbell rings just as he finishes changing into something more appealing. He knows you’re on the other side of the door, can sense it; his chest tingles when he pulls open the door and sees you standing there, soft and pretty just for him. 

You smile and hold up a Tupperware box. 

“Thought I’d make cookies,” he takes the box from you, gesturing for you to come inside. 

“Thank you,” he smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners, the warm fluttery feeling in his chest coming back full force. 

“It’s no problem,” you wring your hands, head ducked down shyly, “thank you for inviting me over.”

Leon steps up to gently take your elbow, guiding you into his living room. The pizza sits on the coffee table surrounded by plates and napkins. He has you sit down on the couch, skirt hem rucking up as you shift to get comfortable. 

His eyes catalog everything about you an incessant need to memorize itching inside of him. Setting the cookies down onto the table, he sits next to you, knees nearly touching. 

“I’m glad you came,” his voice is low and quiet. 

A shy smile steals over your face, “I’m glad I did too.”

Your mouth opens then closes before you set your shoulders determinedly and speak, “I’ve been meaning to ask you out for awhile but I’ve just chickened out every time.”

“Really?”

You nod with a grin. Suddenly, a sharp stinging pain lances through his chest. His wince doesn’t go unnoticed and your hand reaches out to rest on his knee. The sting ramps up into a searing burn. 

“Leon, are you okay?”

He tries to nod, but the pain expands out through his chest cavity and rushes up his neck to his head. Standing up quickly, he lurches toward the bathroom. 

“J-just a headache,” he finally gasps out, a pulsing wave of pain filling his mouth so quick that it makes his teeth ache. 

His legs buckle, knees coming down hard onto the floor but he doesn’t even feel it as the molten lava flow of pain races down his arms. 

“Leon?” he hears your fear laced tone as your hand touches his shoulder, “oh my god, Leon—“

He can taste your confusion on his tongue with hints of fear and curiosity as he folds in on himself, trying to push the pain away. A sharp stinging rip stretches across his mouth, a poor facsimile of a jokers grin. Sharp tipped claws replace his hands, black inky skin stretching up from his fingertips to slowly fade back into his regular tan colored skin except for the black veins racing up his arm to disappear under his shirt. 

He senses that you’re now kneeling in front of him, can hear your heart rabbiting in your chest to see him so changed. 

“Leon, should I call someone?”

“No,” he finally gasps, head coming up making you flinch at what you see. 

He knows how scared you are, hates that you’re so afraid of him but it doesn’t stop him from reaching out. You hesitate but take his hand, being mindful to miss the sharp edged claw tips.

“This isn’t what I’d consider first date material,” you try to joke, but tears bead your eye line. 

Warmth blooms in his chest but this time it’s a welcome reprieve compared to the hot overflow of pain that changed him. 

“I’d have to agree, third date for sure,” he tries to smile but his mouth is too wide now, new teeth pressing in making his tongue stumble. 

Your hand squeezes his, heart rate increasing as you really take in his face. 

“Is it bad?” he whispers. 

Your mouth trembles but your eyes are firm, “Not really, kinda looks like Halloween makeup.”

He snorts at that making you laugh softly. 

“How do you feel?”

His brows pinch together.

“It feels like there’s an undercurrent of thought,” he goes to tap his temple but sees the claw out of the corner of his eye so drops his hand back down, “like a second thought process.”

“What’s it thinking?”

Frowning at him, you shuffle closer and his eyes catch the motion of your skirt. Hunger like he’s never had before shoots through his body like an electric current. 

breed her fill her up mark her claim her bite her mate her

He sways toward you, mouth salivating. 

“Leon?”

“I’ll scare you off,” he finally mutters pulling himself together, pressing that other voice away. 

“I think we’re well past that,” you tease, “just tell me.”

His chest flutters, giddiness from letting it sink in that you’re really still here, that you didn’t run. 

perfect mate perfect breeder mark her claim her

“Fuck, okay, I’ll—,” he lets his head slump forward into your neck. 

He feels as you tense under him but slowly relax as he just breathes you in; you tense again when his clawed hands wrap around your waist as he snuffles into your neck harder. 

“Wanna mate you,” he whispers into your skin, being careful to not catch his teeth, “wanna keep you. Breed you again and again. Keep you stuffed with my cock. Perfect, never had someone so lovely before.”

He presses his lips to your pulse, tasting your fear with hints of arousal. 

“Mark your pretty neck, bury myself between your thighs and fuck your pussy,” he rumbles, tongue lapping at your neck, hands tightening around your waist, “need to make you my breeder, mate you permanently.”

He scrapes his newly formed fangs against your skin, “Been so lonely, for so long, never found a mate til now. Gonna keep you all to myself. Never let you go.”

That undercurrent of thought Leon spoke of feels like it’s finally waking up inside of him, parasitically merging with his higher thoughts. The fluttering in his chest that had fallen into the background finally sinks into him, completing its final stage of amalgamation. 

“Mine, all mine,” he promises, both lines of thought syncing together and making his tenor sound strange. 

“Leon,” you whimper, hands shakily reaching up to his hair to tug him away from your neck.

He blinks at you almost sleepily, reminiscent of a feline. Tugging one of your hands from his hair, he presses a kiss to the palm as well as he can with teeth crowding his mouth. 

“My pretty girl,” he coos at you, tugging you closer until you have to straddle his thigh or lose your balance and fall into his chest.

Leon noses along your hairline and chuffs happily, “Perfect, smell so good, want you so bad.”

His nose trails down your jaw, tongue licking your skin, “Can I have you? Please? Need you so much.”

You shiver in his arms and he knows that you’re slowly conceding, can feel your arousal ramping up with his soft touches. 

“My mate is so pretty,” he purrs in your ear, tongue flicking the shell making you gasp quietly, “so pretty and so perfect. Wanna fill you up with my seed, show you how bad I want you.”

“Leon,” you whimper, rocking your hips down on his thigh.

The motion has him trilling in the back of his throat, nosing your jaw to lick across your cheek and lips. 

“Perfect mate to breed,” he rumbles, “keep you pinned on my cock so I can fill that perfect pussy.”

Your hands are tangled in his hair, using it as an anchor so you can rock down on him. He can feel your damp panties and smell how much you like this. 

“Can I?” he’s murmuring in your ear again, “can I fuck your pretty pussy? Please?” he sighs and nuzzles your hair, “need to breed my mate’s perfect little pussy.”

A whispering moan slips past your lips. 

“Yes, Leon.”

◥✥◤

It’s a literal blur from the living room to Leon’s bed. He must’ve picked you up and carried you here, but it seems like between one blink to the next you’re in a new space. 

You don’t really get much of a chance to take in the new setting as Leon crowds into your personal space, blue eyes wide and contemplating. 

“Okay?”

You smile up at this wildly different man, if he’s even still considered one, and stroke his cheek. His eyes droop and he purrs at the motion. 

“I’m okay, Leon. Can I just touch you for now?”

He nods eagerly. You run your fingers from his black clawed hands up the inky black stain, to his toned forearms where it fades back into peach colored skin.  You trace the black veins that travel up his biceps. He stays still, watching you the entire time, eyes never blinking. 

“Can you take your shirt off?” you ask shyly, feeling hot all over at thinking of where this is all headed, clit pulsing with excitement.

Leon quickly takes his shirt off and then without prompting, slips his jeans and boxers off. You bite your lip to stifle the noise that almost escaped. Those inky black veins cover his entire torso before slowly disappearing down his abs to his dick. His thighs are normal but the dark veins picks up near the bend of his knee and you can only assume travel down the length of his legs. 

Your eyes can’t help but focus on his dripping cock. It’s flushed and hard, head peaking through his foreskin, weeping precum down the shaft. He’s so big that it has your walls fluttering already. You’re not sure it’s even going to fit, but you really really want it to. It’s not every day you get fucked by a monster cock.  

“Okay?” 

Leon’s hesitant voice pulls your attention back to his face. Your hands stalled out on his biceps and you squeeze the muscle at the same time as you press your thighs together. 

“Okay,” you smile up at him and he tries to return it, mouth too strange now to truly smile. 

Your pussy throbs seeing those teeth of his. Even his monstrous traits are making you aroused, feeling hot all over from seeing his black claws settle on the bed near your hips—picturing as he grabs onto you with them, scratching you up. 

Shivering, you part your thighs, slick leaking from your cunt. Leon groans and presses his face into your neck. 

“Smell so good,” he mumbles.

“Can you,” you take in a shaky breath, “can you smell how turned on I am?”

“Uh huh,” he whines, tongue swiping across your skin, “taste it too.”

“Oh,” you breathily sigh, hands digging into his shoulders.

You let your eyes fall back to his cock, “Don’t know if you’ll fit, Leon.”

“Can fit,” he pants, humping the air for a split second as the tip drools more precum, “made to fit.”

“Is it?” you tease, running your hands down his arms, “I’ve got a pretty small pussy compared to that.”

He snarls against you neck making your heart race in fearful excitement. 

“Make it fit,” he grunts, dropping his hips down to grind his bare cock against your covered pussy, “pretty mate will take it, breed her deep.”

Whining, you tug Leon close and press a soft kiss against his teeth. 

“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue,” you gasp out and Leon listens, lolling his tongue out past those sharp fangs. 

You slowly lap at it then suck his tongue into your mouth. His eyes narrow in delight and he plunges his tongue deep into your mouth, making you choke.

He pulls away, worry crossing his features, but you tug him back, “Again.”

Moaning, you open your mouth as wide as you can and let Leon fuck his tongue in and out, gagging you when he slips in too far. Your nipples are so hard they hurt and your pussy aches with emptiness. 

You have to push Leon away but he keeps licking your cheek and jaw, the closest thing to a kiss he can give you right now. 

Giggling, you slip off your skirt and panties and when that draws his attention, you take off your blouse and bra dropping it all into the floor. 

Leon’s eyes rake over your body. Feeling a little self conscious, you try to close your legs but Leon shoves his way in between them. 

“So pretty, sweetheart,” he murmurs, tongue lathing across your clavicle, “want to lick you all over.”

Shivering, you relax against the bed, “Okay, Leon.”

“Really?” he groans, tongue dragging across the swell of your breasts, “wanna eat you up.”

Your breath hitches, pussy getting wetter at the thought of Leon biting you with those teeth. 

“You can,” you whisper, eyes watching as he nips at your chest. 

You both moan when he sucks at your nipples, swapping back and forth between each hard bud. He loves to latch onto one, framing it with his teeth as his tongue flicks your nipple over and over and over until you’re squirming; then he gently suckles on it until your hips buck. Moving over to the other nipple, he repeats the process. 

Soon, your nipples are puffy and swollen and Leon still concentrates on them, pinch them gently between his claws until you’re whining. 

“Please, please, please,” you push your hips up until his cock drags along your slit, smearing slick and precum across your pussy lips. 

A shaky exhale, “Want you to breed me, Leon.”

An inhuman sound rumbles in his chest as his sharp claws grab your hips, shoving you down onto the bed with him following after. He drops his weight on you making you moan, legs spread wide around his hips. 

“Mate,” he growls looking down as he starts to press the fat tip of his cock into your dripping hole, “so wet for me, pussy wants it so bad.”

You whine as he stretches your pussy around his cock; he’s so big it’s making your eyes water while your cunt spasms and clenches down. 

“Open up for me,” he licks across your neck, “open up that pretty pussy so I can fill her up.”

“Trying,” you mewl, relaxing your muscles so he slips in another few inches. 

“There we go, such a pretty girl,” he purrs and nuzzles your cheek, “wants me to breed her full.”

Moaning, you raise your hips up shoving more of his cock into your too tight hole. A pained hiss comes from your lips but you tighten your legs around his body. 

“Help me, Leon,” you pant, tears shimmering in your eyes, “you’re gonna have to make it fit.”

He groans and it echoes oddly in his chest.

“Make it fit, make it fit this pussy, mate needs my cock to fit,” he’s mumbling to himself. 

He pulls his hips back making you whine which becomes a choked off moan when he bullies his thick cock all the way into your cunt until he’s bottoming out. You feel split in two, pussy fluttering and twitching around his dick. 

Your eyes slip shut, tears slipping free, “God Leon, it’s too much.”

“Perfect fit,” he nips at your neck making you clench on him, “perfect pussy.”

You’re milking his cock and nothing has even happened yet. 

“I can’t,” you whimper, eyes opening to look down at him mouthing across your breasts, “it’s too much.”

“Mmm,” he suckles at a hard nipple making your pussy throb, “feels so good.”

You lay there under his heavy body as he sucks and lathes his tongue across your puffy nipples until you’re squirming, grinding down into his dick. 

“Feel better?” 

Your eyes are hazy when you finally meet his gaze, “Yeah, s’good. You’re just so deep.”

He raises up and you both can see a small bump in your lower belly.

“Perfect pussy,” he strokes a clawed hand over it making you keen high in your throat, “taking me so good.”

Your hands have been tangled in the sheets this whole time, but now come up to grab onto his shoulders.

“You’re gonna ruin my pussy for anyone else,” you whimper eyes watching him pet bulge in your belly. 

Snarling, he pulls his cock halfway out and bullies it back into your cunt making you squeal. 

“My pussy,” he grunts, teeth gnashing, “my mate.”

“Ohh,” a breathy moan slips past your lips as Leon starts fucking harder and harder into your pussy. 

“Say it,” his clawed hands dig into the skin of your hips, piercing the skin and making him even more frenzied. 

“Y-your m-mate,” you finally spit out, slick leaking from your pussy as his claws dig into your hips, “your mate, Leon.”

“That’s right.”

“Fuck,” you gasp out, Leon folding your knees up to your shoulders, “Leon, I can’t.”

“Y’can,” he grits out, mouth feeling full of too many teeth, too many hungry thoughts, “gotta, for me, please.”

You whine but go slack in his arms allowing him to push you further, letting him sink his cock back into your soaked hole. His body feels like it’s on fire, his chest feels so full of liquid heat that he’s surprised it’s not spilling past his lips. 

“Thank you, thank you,” he chants around the fangs now taking up space in his mouth, “so good.”

“Leon,” you mewl, head hanging off of his bed from his thrusting, “m getting dizzy.”

He grabs your hips and without pulling out of your cunt, yanks your body back along the bed. Your eyes finally meet his and he feels your pussy flutter around his cock as fear strikes your features. The black veins have gotten worse around his temples traveling down to his jaw as a single black mass.

“Leon, are you okay?” your hand hesitates at your side but you lift it up to cup his face making him whine and nuzzle your palm. 

“Hot, can’t think,” he stumbles over his words. 

“You look worse..” your voice trails off as your eyes really take in his appearance, “maybe we should stop.”

He snarls and snaps his hips harder into your squelching cunt, a mewling cry escaping your mouth. 

“No,” he bears his teeth at you, so sharp now, no longer his blunted human teeth but something more savage—feral.

Whining, your cunt milks his cock as he grinds his fat tip against the opening to your womb. 

“Leon,” you gasp out as he starts pinching and rubbing your clit softly with those claws as he grinds deep into your clenching heat, “Leon, you’re—.”

Black veins race across his skin and pulse along with his heartbeat; his eyes seem to get the worst of it, making the sea dark color stand out even more almost like they’re glowing. His hands are gripping your hips so tightly they’re bruising. 

“Breed, gotta cum in you,” he finally grits out, drool slipping from his mouth as he still isn’t used to his teeth, “pretty pretty girl. Gonna mate you, mark you. Mine. All mine.”

“Leon,” you whine, hands reaching out to brush his hair away from his face, watching the veins wiggle and squirm under his skin. 

Your pussy clamps down on his dick to hear his husky voice mutter, “Bite you deep, mate you, breed you, all mine.”

Arousal floods your body at the thought of him sinking those needle sharp teeth into your skin, the stinging bite of having him mark you like that. Subconsciously, you’re arching your neck to him, baring the soft unmarked skin for his perusal. 

He growls, fucking you in long slow thrusts, cock stretching you so open it makes your eyes water. You feel as his hands grip you even tighter, nails pricking your skin and making you bleed. 

He scents the air and pants like a dog down at you, drool dripping all over your chest and neck.

“Smell so pretty,” he licks a trail from your jaw down to your clavicle, “wanna taste, w’nna taste, please.” 

You’re nodding before you can think better of it, “Yes, yes, Leon.”

His sharp teeth pierce the junction where you neck and shoulder meet making your eyes roll back in your head, crying out loudly while your pussy gushes slick as you cum around Leon’s dick. 

He growls and fucks you through your orgasm. 

“Never had something so good before,” he’s lapping at the bloody mark on your neck, “god, never felt anything this good ever. So wet, so good, pussy’s so good. Never give you up, never. Kill anyone who touches you. Mine all mine. My mate, my breeder.”

The pain in your neck slowly radiates into syrupy pleasure; it drips down into your body, nipples tightening in pleasure and clit throbbing with want. 

“Leon,” you slur, “what, what..”

“Poison,” he sounds apologetic but his eyes watch you hungrily, “make you feel good, aphrodisiac,” he stumbles over the word like it’s new to his vocabulary. 

Your cunt aches when Leon pulls completely out and you moan loudly when he bottoms out into you again. 

“Full, gotta keep mate nice and full,” his teeth still has flecks of your blood, making your cunt pulse with want again. 

“Leon,” you mewl pitifully, hands cupping his face, “s’too much.”

He blinks and his eyes seem to clear for a second, “Sorry, sorry sweetheart, you’re doing so good for me.”

“Yeah?” you whine. 

“Yeah, wouldn’t want anyone else but you,” he pants, eyes darkening again, “knew you’d be perfect and you are.”

His voice drops, the low timbre giving you goosebumps, “Perfect mate for me. Never need anyone else.”

Everything goes a little fuzzy on the edges, like you’ve had a little too much to drink; your thoughts are cotton soft and candy sweet. 

Leon is smiling at you now, or it looks like a smile, teeth bared at you but with gentle eyes. 

“Leon,” you giggle up at him, endorphins running rampant in your blood, bubbling like fresh champagne in a glass.

“Pretty,” he licks at the mark on your neck, “keep you, breed you over and over and over.”

You rock your hips up and moan, body on fire craving for him to cum inside you. 

“Leon, want it so bad, cum in me please,” you beg up at him, eyes wet with tears.

He bites you again this time on the shoulder and you scream as another orgasm washes over your body. 

“Mate feels so good,” he drools against your neck, licking at the bite.

Your eyes roll back in your head, hips rocking down to press Leon deeper into your cunt somehow. His pelvis grinds against your pudgy clit making your pussy clench repeatedly around his throbbing dick. 

You’re both panting and moaning, rutting against each other like animals. Leon keeps biting at your unmarked skin which has you gushing slick around his cock. 

“Breed me, Leon, need it,” your tongue is swollen and heavy in your mouth. 

You can’t even think past the haze of needy arousal taking over you body. Leon’s sharp claws move up to your ribs, sinking into your skin to draw more blood making you toss your head back with a moan. 

“Mark me up,” you scratch at his shoulders, a poor imitation of his own dangerous nails, “feels good.”

Leon’s snarling again, hips picking up a rough pace as he fucks his weeping cock into your squelching cunt. 

“Yes, yes, that’s it,” your spine arches as his cock drags against your g spot and knocks against your cervix. 

The lizard part of your brain promises you that’s where he belongs, buried deep in your womb. 

Leon watches you with sharp blue eyes, mouth panting as drool drips down onto your chest. He starts a slow, rolling grind to capitalize on rubbing against that spongy spot as well as press against the opening to your cervix. 

“Perfect,” his voice is deep and gravelly making your clit throb, “breed this pussy good and deep.”

“Yes, Leon, please,” you hump down on him, trying to get him to go faster but he doesn’t budge, “need it so bad, breed me. Want your cum.”

He grunts, eyes lit up with excitement as he just watches you get more and more desperate. You feel like you’re going crazy you’re so turned on. 

“Please,” your voice cracks, “it hurts Leon ‘m so empty.”

He finally relents but moves to put you in a mating press, holding your legs up and open, clawed hands pressing against your thighs so he can fuck down into your soaked cunt. 

“Need it, need it, please Leon,” you hiccup a whine, “my pussy’s ruined for anyone else, need you to keep me full.”

He growls and snaps his teeth at you, hips thrusting even rougher into your hole making you moan happily.  

“Mate you,” he grunts, grinding down into your spasming pussy.

“There,” you gasp, eyes crossing as his cock rubs against your g-spot and grinds against your cervix just right. 

Your body’s tightening, orgasm ratcheting up. 

“Gonna fill you up,” he groans.

“Uh huh,” you slur, “fuck, ‘m gonna cum, Leon, fuck!”

Thighs shaking when his pelvis catches your clit, your body locks up as you scream out your climax. He keeps grinding against your cervix and g-spot prolonging the pleasure overloading your body. Your mind is wiped of any thoughts, only the feeling of Leon inside your pussy. 

“Mine,” his hips buck and stutter, “all mine.”

His mouth opens and he sinks his sharp teeth in your neck again as he pumps your cunt full of hot jizz. Eyes rolling back at the dual sensations, another weak orgasm has your pussy clamping down on his cock. He hisses as you milk him over and over while he spills sticky cum deep into your womb, fat tip pressed right against the opening. 

“Leon,” you whimper, hands slipping into his hair to guide him to face you, “kiss please.”

His tongue plunges into your open mouth making you moan as you taste hints of your own blood. Your pussy walls flutter as his cock kicks and throbs, spurting the last of his cum into your cunt. 

He slowly slips his tongue out of your mouth at the same time he eases his dick out of your pussy with a wet suctioning noise. Whimpering, your legs lay against the bed as he quickly moves down the length of your body. 

He grabs your ass and tilts you up. 

“Gotta keep it all inside,” he murmurs, eyes zeroed in on your puffy cunt. 

Your body still pulses with aftershocks, but you slowly realize in your soupy brain that the black veins are slowly disappearing. Leon’s mouth is also reforming itself until he only has sharp incisors left.  The claws are last to change, but his fingertips still have pointier nails that look like they can still slice you open. 

“Leon,” you murmur to grab his attention. 

Humming, he looks up at you. His eyes drop down to the bite marks all across your neck and shoulders and his pupils dilate. Gently, he lets go of your hips to move back up your body. He kisses you heatedly, tongue dipping into your mouth with a groan. 

“God, I want to do it again,” he drags his lips down to the bites and sucks on them; a mewling cry slipping from your mouth. 

He shifts up and kisses you again, nipping your bottom lip until blood fills your kiss. 

“Taste so good,” he whispers into your mouth before sucking on your lip, “pretty little mate.”

You finally pull away, exhaustion making your eyes droop.

“Leon, I can’t, at least not right now,” you stroke his jaw, admiring his flushed face. 

“Sorry,” he turns and kisses your wrist, placing a small bite on the skin, “you’re just driving me crazy right now. You look and smell so good.”

You giggle, still feeling a little loopy from the mind blowing sex, “Well that’s all your fault, mister.”

He sheepishly grins at you, “Yeah. I really am sorry you know.”

You pull him down to kiss his cheek.

“Don’t be. I’ve been kinda hoping we’d fuck,” you boop his nose with a laugh at his scandalous expression. 

“I just meant—“

“I know,” you cut him off with a smile, “and as insane as that was, definitely the best I’ve ever had.”

You gently touch the first bite with your hand and feel a zing of pleasure all the way down to your pussy. 

“A girl could get addicted to this,” you murmur, running your other hand through his hair. 

He nuzzles into your neck, dropping kisses all over the marks. Sighing, you let him kiss your neck until you feel his teeth scraping the skin. 

“No more of that,” he whines at you, “m tired, Leon. Need to sleep.”

Placing one last kiss on the first bite mark, he drops down beside you and tugs you into his chest. You sigh and snuggle into him. He runs his fingernails down your back making you shiver, body going lax in his hold. 

As you drift off to sleep you hear him whisper into your hair, “All mine.”

[yan-lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Aaa back to my origins, I missed writing for Chrollo, he is such an interesting character with some many layers to peel off. Got inspired to write this after doing a lesson for my course where me and my group were discussing about the meaning of life and, y'know, philosophical questions like this would get Chrollo debating for hours just so he could understand his darling opinions.

The room was dimly lit, the only light source was a flickering candle on a worn-out table - the room Chrollo rented this time left to be desired, quaint, old. Shadows danced along the cracked walls, creating an atmosphere that was both claustrophobic and eerie. And you were almost certain that you saw a roach running somewhere. You hated here.

Most of all, you hated him.

Chrollo's dark eyes bore into yours, the intensity of his gaze sending even more chills down your spine. The air as always was thick with tension, one could not have a simple conversation with someone like him im peace.

He leaned forward, his shadows swallowing the light as he let his book rest on the table before turning to look at you again. You could almost see the gears turning on his head. Chrollo was calm and composed but there was something deeply unsettling about him — an aura of danger that lingered just beneath the surface.

Maybe it was his eyes. His very beautiful, mesmerizing eyes that were so similar to two black holes devouring and tainting anything they fell upon. He rested his chin on his hand, the faintest hint of a smile playing on his lips as he observed you, as he searched through your soul for something only he knew about.

"Entertain me, dear," Chrollo began, his voice smooth, almost gentle, yet laced with a sinister undertone, drumming his fingers against his leg, "What do you think is the meaning of life?"

The question hung in the air, heavy and loaded. You hesitated, knowing that your answer could shape the course of this conversation. He liked doing that; giving you something to think about to mold you into who he thinks you should be. Chrollo was unpredictable, his mind a labyrinth of thoughts and intentions that were impossible to decipher, yet you were learning how to read his mannerisms.

If he could read you like an open book, then you should learn and do the same to him. Two can play this game.

He was a man who could kill without remorse, who was used to steal and take without feeling nothing for the victims, even then here he was, asking you to ponder something as profound as the meaning of life. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying not to curse him; the man who took you from your old life.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "I think the meaning of life is… To find s purpose. To create something that gives our existence meaning, whether it's love, art, or even just surviving the challenges we face. Don't you think?"

Chrollo's smile widened, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Purpose, you say? Interesting." He leaned back, crossing his arms as he considered your words. "But what if your purpose is tied to destruction, to chaos because the world failed you? Can that be considered a valid purpose?"

The question sent a shiver down your spine. You knew what he was getting at. Chrollo's life was one of bloodshed and mayhem, his purpose seemingly intertwined with the suffering of others. The thought of justifying such a life made your stomach churn, but you couldn't afford to show weakness.

Sometimes, you mused, Chrollo must think of you like a butterfly strapped to his table while he dissected you.

Or that's how you felt.

"Purpose is subjective," You replied carefully, your voice steady despite the unease creeping through you. "Some might find meaning in creation, others in destruction. But I believe it ultimately comes down to how we perceive our actions and the impact they have on the world around us."

Chrollo's eyes narrowed, the intensity of his gaze becoming almost unbearable. "And what about you?" He asked, his voice soft but deadly serious. "What is your purpose? What meaning do you find in your life?"

The room seemed to close in around you, the air growing colder, more oppressive. You could feel the weight of Chrollo's expectations pressing down on you, as if he was daring you to give the wrong answer. Your mind raced, searching for the right words, the right response that would satisfy him.

"My purpose..." You began, letting your eyes fall to your folded hands. You didn't have one, not anymore at least, he stole that and any chance that you could find it. "My purpose is to live. To experience everything life has to offer, the good and the bad. To find my own path, whatever that may be."

My purpose is to survive you, to kill you. But not yet, dear. You concluded mentally, imitating his tone.

Chrollo studied you in silence, his expression unreadable. The tension in the room was almost suffocating, the silence stretching out until it felt like it would never end. Then, slowly, he nodded, as if accepting your answer — though you couldn't tell if he was satisfied or merely amused.

"An admirable sentiment," He said finally, though his tone was laced with a special kind of amusement. "But remember, the path you choose may not always be under your control, life has a way of steering us in directions we never expected. I'm certain you're quite familiar with this."

Chrollo was a man who thrived on control, on manipulating the lives of others to suit his own ends. It annoyed you greatly that he liked to pour salt over the wound, teasing you about your current predicament.

This time you didn't look away. You held his gaze, refusing to let him see the fear that threatened to consume you. If you were going to survive him, you needed to be strong, to show him that you weren't just another victim.

"I suppose that's true," You replied, forcing a small smile. "But I also believe we have the power to shape our own future, to defy and erase certain aspects of it."

Chrollo's eyes gleamed with a dark amusement, and for a moment, you thought you saw something dangerous flicker in his expression. "Perhaps," He nodded, his voice low and almost mocking. "But remember, in the end, the meaning of life may be nothing more than what we make of it… Or what someone else makes it for us."

The conversation ended with those words, the tension in the room slowly dissipating but leaving behind an unsettling feeling that lingered in your chest. Chrollo rose from his seat, his movements graceful and deliberate. He gave you one last, lingering look before turning to leave, his presence as haunting as ever.

"I'll buy us something to eat, behave yourself in the meantime."

As the door closed behind him, you were left alone with your thoughts, the candle's flame flickering weakly in the darkness. The meaning of life, what did it matter in a world where someone like Chrollo Lucilfer existed, where lives were manipulated and discarded without a second thought?

You couldn't shake the feeling that, in his own twisted way, Chrollo had found his meaning right here and now.

And if he did, if he found his meaning, you didn't want to know what it was.

[ceilidho]

prompt: post-apocalypse ghost/reader fic where ghost and the rest of his team come across the feral, blood-soaked reader who stabs first and asks questions later. (on ao3 here)

-

The world ends on a Monday.

Abysmal timing; they’re on leave by chance, the whole lot of them. Soap and Gaz are playing cards in the barracks when they get the call. Price is still in his office when a phone in the corner of the room that never rings suddenly does (he stares at it for a time before picking it up). Ghost is someplace, no one knows for sure; what they do know is that when he does finally answer their calls, he’s out of breath and there’s a thread of panic in his voice that makes the blood in Soap’s veins run cold. 

He’s never heard him sound like that. He never will again.

The virus rages across the country, hopping borders like they melt away into the ether. Country after country toppelling to this unnamed virus that demolishes society so completely that there was never a chance for the military to contain it. That chance evaporates before even the faintest spark of hope is lit. 

Soap is used to killing, but what he never gets used to is the sight of those things that take human shape. Calling them zombies is easy at first, but even that name comes with a sense of distance; it evokes things seen in films and tv shows, not the real flesh-and-blood of it all, not sitting in a caravan speeding down the motorway with bodies torn apart and scattered across the road. He learns to bite his teeth and hold his bile down at the sight of one of those creatures hunched over the masticated remains of a person. 

Then suddenly it’s seven months later. The core unit of them make their way across the continent, taking back roads where they’re less likely to encounter the hoards of infected. They’ve had too many close calls for them to take chances anymore—even armed to the gills and strapped in body armor (the remnants of the military efforts that collapsed within days), Gaz’s shoulder pad has crumpled beneath too sharp teeth and Roach has had his legs swept out from under him, his throat nearly exposed, nearly torn open.

Ghost’s hands are still wet with gore from taking that infected apart. If any of them make it, it will likely be him.

A part of Soap worries about Ghost. Even he feels the tender edges of his own humanity bristle at the day-in and day-out struggle that is now a luxury rather than a hardship. Just being able to survive is a miracle. Ghost just goes dark. From the little Soap knows of Ghost (which is still more than most; he’s confident enough to say that of their group, he’s the one that Ghost shows himself to the most), he knows that Ghost has already endured enough suffering for an army. Never mind a single man. 

There’s a flatness behind his eyes these days and it scares Soap, just a bit. He no longer looks like a person behind a mask but rather the sun-baked skull itself. 

His worry only fades when they come across the girl.

She’s a feral little thing, half-starved and out of her mind. They see her slip in and out of abandoned houses when they make their way through a small village in the French countryside (or what Soap thinks is France), hair matted with sweat and blood. 

It’s Ghost that pauses, Ghost that makes them stop and detours long enough to creep up on her, holding a big hand to her mouth when she howls and tries to tear his whole arm off. It takes over an hour to calm her down long enough to reassure her that they mean her no harm. She tries to take off no less than six times.

Soap has never seen Ghost look smitten, but there’s no other word for it. 

When Price tentatively suggests leaving the girl behind—not a terrible suggestion after she tries to stab Ghost—the look Ghost levels him with brooks no further arguments. They’re keeping the girl. 

She’s his problem, as far as Soap and the rest of them are concerned. No name, unless it’s Soap yelling “Girl” or “Hey, you!” when she does something stupid like actively seeking out infected to kill. Ghost chuckles all deep baritone when he sees her hack away at an infected man’s neck. It’s enough to make a man hurl. Love in a time of zombies. 

He hears them murmuring to each other sometimes, late at night when the team is holed up in a house or a barn they’ve commandeered. Doors always reinforced, someone standing guard on the roof. The low rasp of Ghost’s voice, almost susurrous, almost intimate. Her voice like a chittering wolf. 

Hovering between sleep and wakefulness, Soap doesn’t look away from the wall in front of him. He knows if he does, if he turns over from where he’s supposed to be sleeping, he’ll see Ghost hovering over the girl roughly half his size, her face blocked only by the way his arms frame either side of her head. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to stomach the sight of his friend’s hips bucking into the girl.

He hears him mutter something like, “You needed to be found. I needed to find you.” and then it’s enough. He lets his brain shut off. 

If it keeps Ghost sane and with them, so be it. 

[theprettynosferatu]

“I hate you so much”, she said. “I fucking despise you. You are the worst kind of person to ever blight this world and if I could, I would stomp you like the roach you are”. Her words were most certainly strong; however, they were somewhat undermined by her smile, by the sensual, almost dance-like movements of her body as she removed her top.

“I am well aware”, he said, reclining on the sofa.

“You have no idea. You fucking ruined my life, you piece of shit” she said before biting her lips in a perfect picture of lust. 

“And yet here you are. Again”

“You know damn well why I’m here, you monster”

He did. That was part of the charm of the whole affair. 

Her hatred for him had been long held, and nurtured lovingly for nearly a decade. In college, she took an instant dislike for his jokes and remarks, which she felt, rightly, to be sexist and dumb. As they matured politically, they found themselves staring at each other from opposite ends of the spectrum. As they entered professional life, her intelligence and skill propelled her well above him, a sin he could never overlook. It was an animosity as strong as true love, as enduring as the sun. And yet she looked at him with the tender eyes of a willing lover as she went to her knees.

It was true. She hated him. But she hated herself more. Or, more precisely, she hated how much her body adored him, how deeply it needed him. His… Every inch of her skin tingled in anticipation, and she realized how seductively she moved even despite her hardest efforts to stop it. It wasn’t her, she tried to remind herself. It was that damn… thing. Her breath came in short, panting bursts. Her eyes fixed on the bulge in his pants. She desperately wanted to blame some sort of mind control, of hypnosis, of strange, sci-fi implant in her brain for how pathetic she was being, and how delicious her pussy felt, eager with anticipation. Sadly, she knew better. She knew what would happen the second she saw his cock. Hell, she could almost smell it and it made her drool. And there was no magic behind it, no esoteric mystery driving her actions.

It was chemistry. She knew it as well as he did. She knew exactly how he had turned her into… this. She knew why her body loved it. She knew it wasn’t love. She realized, consciously, she was simply… fiending. Addicted. A victim of chemical dependency and his fucked up expolitation of her situation.

He always loved this part. When her eyes retained some defiance, her absolute hatred of him was on full display, her disgust with her own actions hidden behind a teasing smile, a bite of her lips. Her body was performing because it had learned exactly what he liked, how to get the drug it needed from him quickly… and the woman behind that body was trapped between her need and her true feelings. It was a delicious mix, especially because they both knew he could destroy her with a simple act, and there was nothing she could do about it. He could tell she was almost shaking, resisting the urge to rip off his pants- an urge he had trained her to resist simply by denying her what she craved most when she gave into it. 

Cum. His cum. 

She couldn’t help but blame herself. She had done the research, seeking to understand addiction in order to help people, analyzing how the brain reacted to different patterns of rewards and even chemicals… only for him to use all that and turn it against her. And she knew in one second all of it wouldn’t matter to her one bit.

He smiled. She was beautiful, no doubt about it- her jet-black hair, her big, dark eyes, her generous figure… but that wasn’t what attracted him the most. No, it was the way her brain shut off completely as soon as she saw the object of her obsession. That split second when she tried to fight it, when she hated herself for failing, and then…

It only took a single look, and her brain was flooded. Cock. His cock. His beautiful, perfect, delicious cock… Her mouth watered, her body started shaking as the last of her self-control gave way to the animalistic, primal need to…

Perfect. So perfect. The taste. The way she could feel the blood flowing through its veins. It’s strong, conquering hardness. Why would she ever fight against this? Why would she ever think of anything but feeling it in her mouth, taking it deep inside her throat, licking it adoringly? It grew and grew in her mind, pushing everything else away. Her job. Her dignity. Her family. Those things seemed so trivial, so miniscule next to the sensation this cock gave her, as if it made every inch of her skin as sensitive as her clit, her mind a raging inferno and yet perfectly calm: it made sense to worship. It made sense to love this cock. It was just… her place.

Every now and then she fought back. “I hate you”, she would say before moaning and taking him in her mouth, using her tongue to pry moans of pleasure from him, which in turn made her shiver. His pleasure was her pleasure, because his pleasure was a herald of the reward to come. “I hate you so much”, spoken with the loving tenderness of a schoolgirl declaring her love to her first crush. 

For a moment she thought of her husband, her daughter. She hated the way this cock made her feel. Hated that she loved it so much more than her family. Hated them for not letting her live in constant worship of the big, perfect cock. Hated herself for thinking it. Hated how good it felt to think about it. Hated how her pussy soaked her panties without it being touched.

“I hate you so much…” she didn’t mean it. Not anymore, not at that moment. But she knew he loved to hear her say it. Loved the power his cock had over her. And she needed to make him cum. Needed to taste it. Needed to swallow it. “You ruined me… you made me into a cock-addicted whore… your whore…”

He was close. She could feel it. Her entire body tensed up, ready to give in completely. “I hate that I love you…”

It happened. Her mind went blank as she swallowed every drop, convulsing in an orgasm that was more than just an orgasm: it was the fulfillment of her purpose, it was heaven and an embrace and complete, perfect peace. It was happiness. It was true love.

He watched her smile on the ground. This made it all worth it: the experiments, injecting himself to make his cum the most addictive substance on Earth… the most powerful of drugs. She was in complete ecstasy. Sure, it would last maybe an hour and she’d go back to hating him. But that wouldn’t last long. Sooner rather than later her body would need him again. She would shake. She would be unable to think of anything else. 

Yes, she would hate him. But addiction was stronger than hate. 

Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu

[inexplicifics]

#7 - geralt/eskel

#11 - Broken Lock verse milena/lambert/aiden

#14 - Jaskier/Geralt

If any of those tickle your fancy, cheers!

Geralt feels the tension drain from his shoulders as he rounds the last bend and Kaer Morhen finally looms into view. It may be cold and bleak and full of terrible memories, but it’s still home as long as old Vesemir keeps the fire burning, as long as his brothers return each winter to drink and share stories and keep company together through the coldest months.

As long as Eskel makes it back, it’s home.

And thank fuck, when he leads Roach into the stable it’s to find Scorpion already in a stall, looking sleek and well-groomed, which is a damn good sign. Geralt untacks Roach and brushes her down and puts a blanket on her and makes sure her stall has water and oats and hay, and leaves her to get reacquainted with Scorpion and the handful of other horses - Lambert’s nameless gelding, Frank’s sturdy mare Easy, Gardis’s high-strung Jitters and Vesemir’s nondescript Stomper, and the ancient donkey which everyone just calls Bitey for good and valid reasons.

Geralt pats each of them on the nose as he leaves the stable, of course, even Bitey. Dodging the donkey’s teeth is good practice, after all.

Snow is starting to blow across the courtyard as he crosses it, and he hunches his shoulders and tucks his nose into his scarf as the bitter wind bites through his clothes and armor like they aren’t even there. Sometimes he thinks it gets colder here every winter.

The door is heavy, but it’s set into an alcove so the wind doesn’t blow it out of Geralt’s hands. He trudges up the stairs to the room he and Eskel share, setting his bags down near the door and hanging his coat on a hook and taking a moment to bury his face in Eskel’s cloak and breathe in deeply. No perfumer in the world would make a scent that’s mostly leather and blood and bitter potions ingredients and a strange sharp topnote that is probably pure Chaos, but Geralt thinks it’s the second finest scent in the world.

And then he makes his way back down the stairs, down past the main level to the kitchen-basement, and slips in through the half-open door to what may actually be the witcher version of heaven, or at least Geralt’s heaven:

A warm, well-lit room with a steaming pot of stew on the back of the fire and the scent of fresh-baked bread filling the air, and Eskel, his shirtsleeves rolled up to bare brawny forearms and his collar open almost to his navel, wielding an oven peel as skilfully as he does his sword. He pulls the last loaf out of the oven and sets it on the counter to cool, then hangs the peel on its hook and turns to Geralt, smiling the crooked perfect smile that Geralt dreams of when the Path is hard.

“Wolf,” he says softly, and opens his arms.

Geralt stumbles forward into the offered embrace, tucking his nose against Eskel’s neck and smelling fresh bread and clean sweat and sharp Chaos - Eskel home, Eskel safe, Eskel uninjured and relaxed, which is the actual finest scent in all the world.

“‘Skel,” he mumbles, and Eskel chuckles, closing his arms even tighter until Geralt can feel his back creak. He squeezes just as hard.

He’s not sure how long they stand there, clinging to each other, but at last Geralt sighs and lifts his head and Eskel’s scarred lips meet his in a kiss that starts soft and ends deep and hungry, and then because neither of them wants the lecture from Vesemir about appropriate places to fuck (which do not include the kitchen), they settle at the long battered table and Eskel breaks open a loaf of fresh bread and they eat warm bread dripping with butter and honey, shoulders pressed against each other, and Geralt thinks the whole long slogging year upon the Path was worth it for this moment right here.

(Or HERE on AO3!)

[im-the-reader-of-which-you-speak]

Oral Fixation

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Reader

Summary: You want a kiss. Doesn't matter how, doesn't matter who. Lucky for you, your best friend is there to help.

Word count: ~600

Notes: Fluff. Friends to Friends-That-Kiss. Reader is implied to not smoke. Eddie calls the reader "Princess" and "Sugar." Unaddressed fire hazards.

Your eyes focus on the swirls of smoke hanging above Eddie's bed, drifting from his mouth. A frustrated groan erupts from deep within your chest.

"What's eating you?" Eddie spins towards the source of the noise, eager to irritate you further.

"I want a kiss."

"Alright then," he grins. He makes a show out of puckering his lips and making kissy noises as leans down towards you.

"Eddie no!" Quickly dodging, you push him off. He yanks you back down to him, you two collapse into a mess of giggles.

"Oh am I not good enough for a kiss?"

"Nope. Not as long as you keep smoking these things." You flick the blunt out of his hand. You're freed from his grip as he scrambles to retrieve it from his bedsheets.

"Oh c'mon, you don't love my herbal aroma? Prude." Blunt safely back between his soft lips, he inhales. You make an exaggerated wretch and he rolls his eyes "So who do you want a kiss from then?"

"I dunno. My lips are just like... hungry. I just want it to stop so I can get on with my day and think about something productive."

"An oral fixation." He laughs at you before taking another hit of his blunt, finishing it off and throwing the roach somewhere to be forgotten. "So your waiting for your prince to come and save you? Mr. Right with pearly white teeth and minty fresh breath?"

"God Eds, it's not like I want a relationship right now. I just want a kiss. I guess I don't care who."

"Well I got two lips right here, sugar. Ripe for the taking if any princess who wants them."

At this point you were considering it. Your lips are screaming for attention. That's all you could think about. Burning up inside for any mouth-to-mouth contact. Just a quick little kiss could save you. Just quick eensy weensy little smooch. And what's a peck or two between friends? It's not like you're having sex.

"Hmm" you hum. He had gotten up to change the music. He's in his own world now, biting his lips as he chooses the next record to play. It would just be... scratching an itch. He scratches your back, and you'll scratch his when the time comes. That's what friends do, they help each other.

"Maybe I'll have to take you up on that offer" You announce as he drops the needle. You can hear Pour Some Sugar on Me is what he decided on. "Oh?"

And it'd be quick. Over in an instant. As if you two have never done anything at all.

"Yeah. I need it real bad. Worried it'll kill me if I go one more second without my lips mashed against the closest man."

"Well we can't have that, can we?" He comes to sit right next to you, thigh to thigh. Getting right in your face. You can smell the Mary Jane on his breath. He's looking you right in the eyes, holding an almost... hungry stare. The tingle that was once focused solely on your lips has suddenly engulfed your whole body.

"You serious?" Eddie mutters. Your response is only a tremble.

"Yeah"

In the blink of an eye you two were attached at the lip. It's real, it's too real. But your head is in the clouds, everything is so hazy it still feels like a dream. What must have been only a few seconds feels like a life time. His arms wrap arounds you, soothing the heat in the rest of your body. Your sense of time comes back to you when his lips leave your's. Your body simmers down as the distance grows between you.

You're not sure. Maybe you'll have to try again, for good measure.

"Did that do the trick?" He asks, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🌈 Queer Books Coming Out in August 2024 🌈

🌈 Good afternoon, my bookish bats! Here are a FEW of the stunning, diverse queer books you can add to your TBR before the year is over. Happy reading!

[ Text list below ⤵ ]

❓What was the last queer book you read?

[ Release dates may have changed. ]

❤️ Failure to Comply - Sarah Cavar 🧡 I Spit On Your Celluloid - Heidi Honeycutt 💛 You're Embarrassing Yourself - Desiree Akhavan 💚 Death of the Hero - Briona Johnson 💙 Between Dragons and Their Wrath - Devin Madson 💜 The Crimson Crown - Heather Walter ❤️ Sacrificial Animals - Kailee Pedersen 🧡 Oath of Fire - K. Arsenault Rivera 💛 The Palace of Eros - Caro De Robertis 💙 This Ravenous Fate - Hayley Dennings 💜 Mistress of Lies - K.M. Enright 🌈 Wolf Bite - T.J. Nichols

❤️ In the Valley, A Shadow - Samantha Tano 🧡 Follow My Lead - Adrian J. Smith 💛 The Last Woman I Kissed - Venetia Di Pierro 💚 Full Shift - Jennifer Dugan & Kristen Seaton 💙 Hers for the Weekend - Helena Greer 💜 Come Out, Come Out - Natalie C. Parker ❤️ Rules for Ghosting - Shelly Jay Shore 🧡 How to Leave the House - Nathan Newman 💛 Plot Twist - Carmen Sereno 💙 On the Far Side of a Crescendo - Kalyn Hazel 💜 Tiny Oblivions and Mutual Self Destructions - Maxwell I. Gold 🌈 Daylan and the River of Secrets - Edd Tello

❤️ The Italy Letters - Vi Khi Nao 🧡 The Gender Binary Is a Big Lie - Lee Wind 💚 The House Where Death Lives - Alex Brown 💙 Ash's Cabin - Jen Wang 💜 The Avian Hourglass - Lindsey Drager ❤️ The Heart Wants - Krystina Rivers 🧡 A Grand Love - Janna Barkin 💛 You Can't Go Home Again - Jeanette Bears 💜 Libertad - Bessie Flores Zaldivar 🌈 Her Golden Coast - Anat Deracine

❤️ Mighty Millie Novak - Elizabeth Holden 💛 Rise and Divine - Lana Harper 💚 Dying for You - L Flowers 💙 I'll Have What He's Having - Adib Khorram 💜 Changing Her Tune - Amanda Kabak ❤️ Monogamy? In this Economy? - Laura Boyle 🧡 The Rainbow Age of Television - Sayna Maci Warner 💛 Medusa of the Roses - Navid Sinaki 💙 Confounding Oaths - Alexis Hall 💜 Idol Lives - K.T. Salvo 🌈 Brother's Keeper - Quinn Cameron

❤️ Key Lime Sky - Al Hess 🧡 Crushing It - Erin Becker 💛 The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou 💚 Not for the Faint of Heart - Lex Croucher 💙 Tasting Temptation - JJ Arias 💜 Ami - S. Jae-Jones ❤️ You're the Problem, It's You - Emma R. Alban 🧡 Cubs & Campfires - Dylan Drakes 💛 The Dark We Know - Wen-yi Lee 💙 Practical Rules for Cursed Witches - Kayla Cottingham 💜 Riyati Rebirth - Kalani Shimizu 🌈 The Brujos of Borderland High - Gume Laurel III

❤️ A Bánh Mì for Two - Trinity Nguyen 🧡 Dance of the Starlit Sea - Kiana Krystle 💛 Scattered Snows, to the North - Carl Phillips 💚 Beyond a World Apart - Caitlin Myers 💙 Don't Let It Break Your Heart - Maggie Horne 💜 Nothing Heals Me Like You Do - Harper Bliss ❤️ How It All Ends - Emma Hunsinger 🧡 How Do I Sexy? - Mx. Nillin Lore 💛 The Palace of Eros - Caro De Robertis 💙 Prince of the Palisades - Julian Winters 💜 Better Left Buried - Mary E. Roach 🌈 Back to Back - Jo Fletcher

❤️ DITCHLAPSE / [REALLY AFRAID] - Tommy Wyatt 🧡 The Love Archives: Bonus Scenes & Excerpts for Palestine - Various 💛 Guardian: Zhen Hun - Ying Priest 💚 The Sunforge - Sascha Stronach 💙 Queering Reproductive Justice - Candace Bond-Theriault 💜 Gender Explained - Diane Ehrensaft & Michelle Jurkiewicz ❤️ The Unlikely Pair - Jax Calder 🧡 In Universes - Emet North 💛 We Love the Nightlife - Rachel Koller Croft 💙 Lessons from Cruising - Martin Goodman 💜 Wild Ginger in the Rhubarb - Eule Grey 🌈 Not My Circus - Delicia Niami

❤️ Asunder - Kerstin Hall 🧡 The Phoenix Keeper - S.A. MacLean 💛 Encounters with James Baldwin - Various 💚 Verity's Game - Jennifer Giacalone 💙 Hunt Me! I Crave the Chase - Fae Quin 💜 The Audacity Omnibus - Carmen Loup ❤️ Haunted to Death - Frank Anthony Polito 🧡 Blood Orange - Paige Grunewald 💛 The Bad Things We Did - Chris Archeske 💙 Dark Restraint - Katee Robert 💜 Worth the Wait - Kenna White 🌈 The Maid and the Crocodile - Jordan Ifueko

❤️ Loving Corrections - Adrienne Maree Brown 🧡 The Last Witch in Edinburgh - Marielle Thompson 💛 The Duchess of Kokora - Nikhil Prabala 💚 The Scales of Seduction - Rien Gray 💙 Survival Is a Promise - Alexis Pauline Gumbs 💜 Loka - S.B. Divya ❤️ The Every Body Book of Consent - Rachel E Simon 🧡 Southern Lights - Liz Arncliffe 💛 Then Things Went Dark - Bea Fitzgerald 💙 Death at Morning House - Maureen Johnson 💜 The Last Doorbell - William Parker 🌈 The Pairing - Casey McQuiston

[changenameno]

My Own (Chapter 10)

Summary:

Geralt finds himself once more on the path, gloomily looking at what lies ahead.
And you? You had no one, no home and certainly no coin. Well that’d be something you had in common. No coin. You two are surely off to a great start…


Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Fem. Nymph Reader

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, Geralt feeling guilty, teasing, pet names, oral sex (fem. receiving), size kink, breeding kink, biting, rough sex, p in v, brattyness, possessiveness, happy & fluffy ending

 Wordcount: 4.2K

 

A/N: Can’t believe this is the last chapter. Hope you’ll like it��As always any mistake is my own. Appreciate every reblog and comment. Thank you and most importantly enjoy ;) ❤️✨

!The Witcher characters and world are not mine!

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

(In case you’ve missed CHAPTER 9)

 

CHAPTER 10

You had to walk, because riding on Roach would hurt worse than going by foot. So you and Geralt trudged side by side through the forest.

 

Again, you were the first to speak up, after an hour of silence, “You know that it wasn’t your fault, right?”

 

 

Geralt turned to watch you for a moment, trying to guess, why or how you could possibly know, he felt guilty. But you gave nothing away, so he simply assumed it had to do with your nature, being a nymph and all.

Though in truth, he just wasn’t as mysterious as he thought. You had seen how his jaw kept working, tightening every few steps, so you assumed he was tense, and the only explanation you could come up with was, that he must have something on his mind, so you’d guessed. Apparently quite accurately, going by his astonished expression.

After a while he finally answered,” It was my fault, if I had been quicker with my sword. None of that,” he gestured to your injured side, “would have happened.”

 

 

Thinking about his words, you waited a bit before replying,” You know what wouldn’t have happened also?”

 

“Hmm, what?”

 

“That werewolf, actually no, that man, would have died. He never would have been able to return home to his wife, to his two children. And now he won’t have to ever turn again. So technically speaking, you not only saved his life but any future being from getting mauled or killed by a werewolf, as well.”

 

 

Geralt couldn’t believe what he was experiencing, never before had someone so quickly been able to change his mind, though he had one last but,” Alright I get what you mean and I agree to some extent. But you were the one saving future victims from getting in harm’s way with your charm and neckless and all.

 

You only hummed and nodded.

 

 

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

 

It took you longer than you had anticipated to reach the waterfall. It was already late afternoon, when your eyes landed on the lake.

 

 

The body of water sparkled invitingly, surface gently rippling from the constant stream of the waterfall.

 

Your feet automatically lead you closer, then you exclaimed, “So beautiful!”

 

 

While Geralt had to agree the scenery was stunning, he found it had nothing on you. As you stood there, carefully removing your shoes to feel the water on your bare feet, he thought you looked more beautiful than anything or anyone he’d ever seen. The comparison to a flower, filling his mind again. Though a feisty one…

 

 

Feeling the cooling water on your skin was heaven, you just knew it would do wonders for the wound and all the other aches still deeply ingrained in your muscle memory. But you also knew, to have the full effect you had to be completely submerged in the water.

Turning back around, you found Geralt already looking at you, “I…I have to get in. Could you…could you turn around?”

 

 

His eyes crinkled in mirth as he answered, while stepping closer, “I could.”

Though he didn’t show the slightest inclination of doing so, he only continued to come closer.

 

 

When he came to a halt not even an arms length between you, he whispered, “Or…I could join you.”

 

Before you could gasp, he had gently pulled you against him, hand resting on your nape, pressing his lips to yours, this kiss for once uninterrupted. His soft, deep moan into your mouth had butterflies dancing in your belly, heat rapidly began to pool between your thighs.

 

 

You pushed against his shoulder, breaking the kiss, “Gotta do something first.”

 

And with that, you kneeled down. Not giving two shits about your clothes getting wet in the process. His sharp eyes rested upon you as you closed yours, beginning the complicated spell.

 

 

Your hands looked like they were dancing through the water, more ripples forming on the surface, as you began to utter your incantation. His gaze transfixed when the water started climbing, snaking up your thighs, like a vine, until your dark blouse lifted slightly so it could continue upwards.

 

 

The cool water was a relief against your burning wound, you sighed when you felt it prickling across your skin. Once you had spoken the last few words of your spell a white light shone from beneath the fabric of your blouse. Then the water-vine dropped and the only rippling of water was on the other side, where the waterfall met the lake. Finally all your pain was gone.

 

Upon opening your eyes, you were surprised to find Geralt kneeling in front of you. He reached out, carefully lifting your blouse, making a content noise in the back of his throat when he saw your skin unmarred once more. He let one of his rough fingers gently glide over your ribs, making sure the wound was really gone.

 

 

You smiled cheekily at him, taking his wrist, to pull it, and the fabric further up. He got the notion and gently removed your blouse all the way.

 

 

Groaning when he could now see your erect nipples standing at attention.

“Oh fuck, look at you.”

 

You coyly bit your lip, teasing him, “Actually I’d like you to do more than just looking…”

 

 

He growled, “Little brat all the way, huh?”

 

Though he didn’t wait for another cheeky answer, he pulled you onto his lap. Your thighs having to part, to accommodate him in-between them, whimpering when you felt his bulge press against you.

 

 

He grinned meanly, nibbling on your earlobe while grunting,” That’s right, you’ll take…Every. Last. Inch.” Each word underlined by a tender bite to your neck.

 

 

It made you squeal in delight, picturing how he’d fill and pound into you, in any and every possible way.

 

The only warning you got, “Hold on tight,” before he effortlessly stood up with you in his arms. What surprised you even more was, that he sat you down again, so that you had to stand on your own feet.

 

He couldn’t stop his hand from reaching out, he let his thumb tease across your nipple, tweaking it for good measure, which earned him the most wonderful mewl from you.

His smirk grew even more predatory as he commanded, “Undress.”

 

You complied immediately.

 

Standing now naked in front of him, even though he was still completely dressed, made you feel vulnerable, but in the best of ways.

The black fabric of his breeches pulled taunt over the enormous tent that had formed.

But you deemed it unfair, that he still had all his clothes on, so you didn’t let his eyes roam about your bared body for long. Gracefully you spun around, quickly wading deeper into the water, despite its coolness, until you couldn’t stand anymore.

 

 

Geralt watched you retreat into the lake, every one of your steps making your ass bounce deliciously. But he growled frustratingly, because now he was unable to reach you. Though he had every intention to remedy that, and quickly.

 

 

You laughed a little when his angry growl reached your ears, swimming a bit further into the lake. When there was a loud splash, your head whipped around. But the witcher was gone, only a heap of his clothes left on shore. He had dived into the water and now you couldn’t see him anymore.

 

You turned this way and that, but couldn’t spot him, so you called out, “Ah come on, you’ve had your fun. Where are you?”

 

Suddenly big arms hugged you close, wet lips against your sensitive ear-shell, “I’m here, you little minx.”

 

His warm body pressed into your back, making a shiver run up your spine. “And I have every intention on staying here,” whispering the last part, “for as long as you permit me to.”

 

 

This time, he felt your shiver and easily turned onto his back, swimming closer towards shore with just one arm, until his feet could touch the lake’s ground and he could stand.

 

 

Only now could you feel his stiffness poking into your lower back, filling you with the lewdest thoughts. His arm squished your breasts harder, therefore pressing you further into his broad chest. You tilted your head back, placing your lips against his jawline and nibbling lightly, causing him to growl again. Certain you had just felt his member twitch.

 

“Careful there. I will bite back.”

 

You couldn’t stop behaving like a brat apparently, as you mocked,” Hmm. Oh no, wouldn’t want the big, bad wolf to come out, now would we?”

 

 

That earned you an even tighter grip around your torso and a hand at your throat, squeezing once in warning.

 

“Won’t be able to hold back, if you continue to antagonising me.”

Though that only fuelled the desire, spreading through your body. Cunt clenching uncontrollably around nothing.

 

 

With his hand around your throat, you could only breathe back,” I don’t want you to hold back. Want. Every. Last. Inch.”

 

 

In your position you couldn’t see his face contort into a hungry grimace, but you felt the growl rip from his lips as it reverberated inside his chest and therefore against your back.

 

 

“Can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

 

And with that he started walking to shore, the minute the grassy ground was close enough, he unceremoniously dropped you. You were about to complain, but he roughly manhandled you into his desired position. Taking your breath away, when he ripped your thighs apart to create enough space for him to kneel there.

 

He glowered down at you, tilting his head slightly, as his eyes slowly began roaming your body. Stopping at your tits to admire the soft flesh of your breasts, before continuing to move downwards.

 

 

You began panting, as you were now able to see his wild expression, full of hunger and desire as he stared at your dripping pussy. A little overwhelmed by his heated glare, you unconsciously tried to close your legs, but his steel like grip prevented you from doing so.

 

 

Suddenly his intense eyes snapped back up to your face, shaking his head, “None of that, little pup. That right there, “he nodded to your pulsing centre, “is mine. MINE. Do you understand?!”

 

Pathetically aroused by his possessiveness and the pet name, you whimpered and nodded.

 

 

Geralt knew exactly what his words did to you, smirking evilly when he continued, “Oh will you look at that, I thought you hated being called pup.”

And as if on cue, your treacherous cunt started clenching.

 

“And yet, here’s your little pussy, completely drenched for me when I call you pup.”

 

 

When only another whimper escaped your mouth, Geralt chuckled darkly, “That’s right. My little puppy, aren’t you?”

 

 

He didn’t wait for your answer, not that you would have been able to reply anyhow, before he sunk down further. Hot ragged breath against your most intimate place, big hands digging into your soft thighs, holding you open for him.

 

 

When his nose pressed into your clit, your back bowed of the ground and he grinned up at you, clearly enjoying teasing you mercilessly.

 

As Geralt gazed at your scrunched up face, pleasure written all over your features, his grip tightened even more. He needed to taste you and now. So he dove in, tongue slithering through your wet folds like a serpent.

 

He managed to have you mewling for him in seconds, hips trying to ride his face because his slow pace was driving you absolutely insane.

 

“Ge-geralt…”

 

His name moaned from your lips, sounded like the finest tune in his ears. Without removing his face from your centre, he replied, “Yes, pup? Tell me what it is you need.”

 

 

You wished you could, but with every swipe of his fat tongue, he erased all your thoughts and with that, the hope to formulate a decent sentence.

 

You could feel his groans against your core, when a long finger suddenly started to push inside, “Fuck, you’re so tight, might actually not fit.”

 

 

“Ah mhmm.”

 

 

His finger was now all the way inside, knuckles brushing against your hole, “What was that? Fucked the thoughts right out of you, with just one finger, huh?”

 

 

You would have slapped him, if he didn’t make you feel this amazing, so instead you reached down, pulling his still wet hair and therefore face harder against your pussy.

He more than complied, as he started to eat out your cunt with vigor, enjoying the slightly painful pull on his scalp and every sweet moan from your lips. He was quickly able to add another finger, beginning to spread you in preparation for a much larger intrusion. His own cock was raging painfully, and he had to stop himself from humping the grass like a pitiful virgin wanting to get his dick wet for the first time. Your whimpers drove him to the brink of insanity, but he knew he had to make you come at least once before you could take him. Impatient he doubled his efforts, two fingers pistoling in and out, while he circled your clit with his tongue.

 

 

“Ah… there right there…soo close,” you nearly screamed, when Geralt hit your g-spot every time he plunged his fingers inside.

 

 

It didn’t take long for him to get you off, growling when he felt your imminent orgasm. He couldn’t spread his fingers any longer as your cunt bore so tightly down around them. With a last clever bite to your little nub, you were flung over the edge, so suddenly all you could feel was total ecstasy flooding your body.

 

“Yes that’s it come for me. Come on my fingers, just like that.”

 

 

You hummed quietly once your breath had calmed down enough, both hands reaching down trying to pull the witcher up by his shoulders. Reluctantly he finally let your poor cunt rest, pulling his fingers and tongue away, to crawl up, completely covering your body with his. Elbows supporting his weight so he wouldn’t crush you beneath him.

 

 

Even though he just made you come so hard you were seeing stars, your pussy felt terribly empty, wanting something to fill the space again. His wild eyes rested on your face, searching for something, and finding it when you smiled at him wickedly.

 

“There’s my wild, little pup.”

 

Your hands were still resting on his shoulders, pulling him down into a sensual kiss. Though it quickly grew more heated, teeth clashing and loud groaning, every bit the wild animal you had just witnessed between your legs.

 

 

Then it slipped out, without your mind’s consent, “Need you… need you to breed me…”

 

 

Geralt stopped all motion, staring down at your equally surprised face. Though he recovered a lot quicker than you did, “Say that again.”

 

 

When you only continued to stare at him wide eyed, still a little shocked by your own words, he glared at you.

 

 

Without warning, he jumped up, taking you with him. You swiftly wrapped your arms and legs around his body for more stability, as he snarled directly into your ear, “Say. That. Again!”

 

 

Only when he bit down where your neck met your shoulder, were you finally able to pull free of the stupor you had been in, “Fuck. Please, Geralt breed me. Need…need.”

 

He bit you again, this time harder, making you shriek, when he roared, “What do you need?!”

 

 

“Need your…your cock to breed me. Please! Ger-alt!”

 

 

His sharp teeth sunk into your skin, not letting go. Then you felt it, the wide tip of his cock dividing your lower lips. You hadn’t had time to really look at his cock before, but you didn’t have to, to know he was every bit as thick as he had said.

 

 

Having your warm, wet folds spread around his tip felt heavenly already. One hand squeezing your ass, easily holding you above his heavy cock. Geralt’s other hand gripping his base, positioning himself perfectly beneath your hole.

 

 

Removing his teeth from your shoulder made you hiss with anticipation. Excitement cursing through you. He let the hand at your arse wonder upwards, settling on your upper back, so he could lean you back a little bit and look at your face. After all, he wanted to see every micro expression when he’d enter you for the first time.

 

 

And just like that, be began pushing his tip in, both of you moaning when it wholly popped inside. The head was already so wide you had to try to relax, knowing there was much more to come.

 

 

His hips twitched involuntary, pushing more of his length inside, making you yelp. “There, there pup. You can take it.”

 

 

Your walls were strangling him, he had difficulty breathing, especially combined with the bruising grip you had on his shoulders and the little noises escaping the back of your throat.

 

 

He kept on pulling you down, on his cock inch by inch, eyes fixed on your scrunched up face, so he could see when to stop in case it’d be too much for you.

 

 

It was right on the edge of too painful, as your cunt was spread wide open to accommodate his insane girth. After moments of taking deep breaths, Geralt began placing small kisses on your face, succeeding in relaxing you and making you sink lower still.

 

 

“Halfway there, just a little bit more.”

 

 

That made your eyes fly open, “Halfway?!”

 

 

His smug chuckle, did nothing to sooth you as you stammered, “Can’t…no that’s too much. Doesn’t fit…”

 

 

He had the audacity to taunt you, with your earlier words no less, “Thought, you’d take every last inch of me? Bit more off than you can chew, pup?”

 

 

There it was again, that damned pet name, making your cunt pulse and him chuckle more as he felt every little movement around his stupidly, big cock.

 

 

You hissed, “Well that was before…”

 

 

“Before what?”

 

 

God did you hate him right now. Him and his smug grin.

“Before…before I knew how big you w…,” interrupting yourself with a loud whine.

 

 

Geralt amused by your bratty remarks, had tilted his hips, knowingly pushing against your special spot and shutting you right up.

His plan was to make you relax, else you really wouldn’t be able to take him, so he sneaked one hand down between your bodies and pressed the heel of his palm into your clit. Your reaction was instant, lips forming a big o, though no sound left them, too stunned by the electric current strumming through your body at the touch.

 

 

“Think I really have to fuck the brattiness out of you, hmm?”

 

 

You keen lowly, feeling how you were sinking down on his shaft, this time without pain despite his massive length spearing you open. You threw your head back, as the final inch passed through your hole, filling you up so much you were sure he reached past your navel.

 

 

He rumbled darkly, “See, told you, I’d fit…fuck, there you go.”

 

 

Emboldened by his words, you carefully circled your hips against his, testing the waters. You were sure, he must be splitting you down the middle. But because his palm was still pressed against you, the little pain you actually felt, soon made room for bliss.

 

 

Geralt’s mouth roamed your throat, biting here and there, waiting, growing increasingly impatient. Your walls enclosed him so tightly he wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to move.

 

 

Finally you had eased up on your death grip a little. And your next words ended the sweet hell of his immobility, “Please, Geralt mo-move.”

 

It was barely there, so caught up in your own bliss you weren’t able to raise your voice above a whisper. But it had instantly broken the spell the witcher had been under, making him roar when he lifted you up, only to let you fall back down onto his cock.

 

 

He didn’t ease you into it, an insane pace from the start. And every single fall, was met by such a powerful thrust upwards, you were sure you’d be incapable of walking, come morning.

 

 

Your channel squeezed him tighter with every harsh pound inside your cunt, walls fluttering around him.

“Ah fu-uck Geralt,” you cried out after an especially brutal thrust.

 

 

“Yeah, feel good? That what you wanted, pup?!”

 

You could only screech in respond as he repeatedly stole your breath away, when he bottomed out with every forceful shove into your quivering pussy.

 

 

Not knowing how he did it, but not complaining either, he ever increased his pace, fat cock bullying your cervix mercilessly. You were losing yourself completely in pleasure, moan after moan spilling out, followed by equally loud growls from him.

Each drop and motion against him, made a loud squelching sound, that would have you hiding your face away in embarrassment, if you still had the capacity to be ashamed. But Geralt had truly fucked out any decent thought, no longer caring if anyone would hear your loud cries.

 

 

The witcher drilled into you without abandon, cursing as he felt himself growing closer to the finish line, though he knew you weren’t far behind.

 

“Yeah, ready to be filled? Gonna come so deep inside, you’ll drip my cum for days!”

 

 

His filthy words, tipped you right over, whole body spasming in his hold as you came. The sound you made so pathetic and purely animal, Geralt’s own orgasm was ripped from him. His pace did not slow for another few pumps, until you’d truly milked him to completion. You felt his hot cum adding to the pressure inside your belly.

 

Still buried deep inside, he panted, “Fuck pup. Took it so well. Did so good f’r me.” Nuzzling your neck lovingly and breathing in your scent, now more mouth-watering than before.

 

 

You let your fingers card through his white hair, enjoying the closeness.

 

 

Once you both were ready, Geralt pulled out, making his spent dribble down your legs. Slowly he set you down, until you managed to stand on your own. When you walked into the water to clean yourself, you heard him laughing behind you. You turned around, eyebrow raised in accusation, “What are you laughing at?!”

 

 

He grinned, when he answered, “You’re wobbling around like a new born fawn.”

 

 

Your glare intensified as you grumbled back, “And whose fault is that?!!”

 

He swiftly joined you in the water, pressing his chest against your back like, before he replied lowly, “Mine.”

Though he didn’t sound apologetic, if you didn’t know any better he actually sounded quite proud of himself.

 

 

Then he helped you clean, gentle hands roving up and down your body, even softly kneading your muscles until you were pliant in his hold. He led you back outside and with a lazy wave of your hand you were both dried off.

The both of you quickly getting dressed, as the chill of the evening had begun to catch up to you.

 

 

Geralt watched your breasts vanish under your blouse, and when you caught him staring, you teased, “See something you like?”

 

 

As a serious expression overtook his face, you grew nervous, thinking maybe you had teased him too much and he had grown tired of your banter.

 

 

Though the opposite was the case. He unhurriedly approached, pulling you down with him, until you sat comfortably astride his thighs.

 

“Actually no, I didn’t see something I like,” he paused, gazing into your fearful eyes, though a faint smile was growing on his lips, “I saw something…I love.”

 

 

You gaped at him, shocked by his admission and at the same time beyond happy he felt that way.

 

 

“I meant it earlier, you know?” You stared at him quizzically.

 

“I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me, pup. I love you.”

 

 

You couldn’t help yourself, so overcome by emotion you took his face in your hands, pressing a kiss to his lips, before beaming up at his crinkling amber eyes.

 

“Hmm that could be a long while though. Because I’m not going to let you go, master witcher.”

 

He chuckled, hugging you closer to his warm body, “Well you’d better. I don’t intend to let you go either. As I said, you are mine.”

 

 

Geralt let himself fall backwards, until he lay on his back, with you sprawled over his torso like a weighted blanket, ready to fall asleep when you piped up again,” Geralt?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“You know this goes both ways, right?”

 

“What does?”

 

Holding your breath, before letting the words tumble out, “I love you, too. And you belong to me, just as much as I to you.”

 

After a beat of silence, he shifted so he could see you face, “Of course. I’m yours and you are mine.” To your chagrin, he added, “My own, little puppy.”

 

You huffed indignantly, hitting him on the shoulder, “Hush. Look at you, not even needing Jaskier to ruin the romantic moment, apparently you are plenty capable yourself.”

 

His belly rumbled with laughter, his happiness so contagious you had to join in, giggling alongside his deep chuckles.

 

 

“Sorry, my love. I promise solemnly to get better.” His eyes still twinkled with mirth.

 

You simply ignored his amusement, too content with just lying here, so you snuggled closer into his chest for more warmth.

 

He lifted one of your arms, pulling you up, so your head lay just below his jaw. Then he placed a kiss on your palm, mumbling, “I love you. Sleep well, my little pup.”

 

You breathed back, “Love you too. Good ‘ight.”

 

 

Geralt had never felt this content and happy before. Certain, sleep would come easy tonight, and every night thereafter, as long as you’d be safely tucked away in his arms. Knowing that, he finally began to relax.

He listened to your slow, rhythmic heartbeat, until he was lulled to sleep himself. Though no dream of his could be better than the reality of knowing, you loved him too.

THE END

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

Taglist:

If you’re interested in being on my taglist, please let me know! And if you want to be taken off (my taglist), feel free to tell me!❤️✨

[skrifores]

I have seen the point being made that you don’t have to be in a romantic relationship for some behaviour to constitute domestic violence. I’m seeing this said with regards to Our Flag Means Death and what some people perceive as domestic abuse on Ed’s part - that him not being romantically involved with Izzy shouldn’t mean behaviour between can’t be considered domestic abuse.

It is an excellent point that in many places, the definition of domestic abuse isn’t restricted to intimate partners! It is often widened to consider any violence, coercion and emotional harm taking place within a home environment. Under this definition, children can be victims of domestic abuse by their parents, it can occur between siblings, even roommates - especially with a live-in landlord situation. And of course, the Revenge as well as being a workplace is ultimately where the characters live.

I think it’s very clear that the show is a workplace comedy about pirates, but if you want to apply the definition of violence, coercion and emotional harm within a home environment to your reading to the show, that can be done.

Of course, I would be surprised if you genuinely view it that way and still made it as far as even watching Season 2, given the way what you consider to be domestic abuse in this fictional setting happens so very often with little to no moral consequence, and is often intended to be taken as a joke.

I mean. In the very first episode, the crew talk about killing Stede, and begin to plan for this, including lighting him on fire.

Jim threatens Lucius and actually physically locks him in a small wooden box in the second episode for what seems to be quite a long time.

I think in 4, Izzy pulls on Fang’s beard and it really upsets him. He also talks pretty openly about the intention to kill the Revenge crew, though I’ll let that go at this stage since he doesn’t really live there so much as being there for the purpose of murdering them and stealing their stuff. Still, poor Fang, that looked like it hurt.

While we’re on Izzy, he does also actively try to kill Stede by stabbing him, and he then he goes and does the olde worlde equivalent of calling the cops on him on the intention of having him executed, which seems pretty fucked up on the ‘violence’ part of our DA definition but also hits pretty hard on coercive control since he’s doing this to get Ed to behave differently.

He does prevent the Navy from executing Ed, which is nice, but he does point out that he regrets this, which, ouch, emotional harm. If we’re doing real world definitions, “I should’ve let the cops I called on you murder you” is the sort of thing that would make me feel pretty fucked up. And we all know what it means when someone tells you to watch your step.

But it’s not all about Izzy! (It’s really not, guys, there’s a whole TV show here!) Buttons bites Lucius - who ends up needing the whole finger gone! And he’s a visual artist!

Even my darling man Roach tries to eat the Swede, and I’ve gotta say, I don’t think they were on that island long enough to justify murder.

And who could forget Mary?? Wonderfully written character, love her, but, she does with malice aforethought attempt to kill her spouse in his sleep with a skewer. She was right to do it, in my opinion, but y’know, even without broadening the definition beyond partner relationships, murder of your spouse is pretty classic domestic abuse.

So, y’know, the point I’m getting at really is that if your definition of domestic abuse is violence and control wherein the perpetrator and victim share a significant aspect of their lives like living space - that’s a fine definition in real life. It is the one I use, in real life. But if you apply it to Our Flag Means Death, I really don’t understand how you stomached watching the first season or why you came back for more.

And if you only apply this definition with regards to Ed’s behaviour, but not the rest of the characters, I do wonder why that might be.

[horsegirlhob]

Library patrons: Wow, look at that normal regular guy shelving books. I bet working at the library is a super chill time it must be nice for someone with such a relaxed temperament

Me: Don't bite the books you're not allowed to chew on the books no matter how good you know it would feel you cannot chomp down as hard as possible on Criminal Law by Kent Roach it would get you fired probably do not put that book in your mouth I know you want to gnaw on the books more than anything in the world but you can't it is forbidden don't do it nonononononomnomnomnomnomnom

[sakuralovespossums]

Sawyer Family x Child Sister Reader

Authors Note: I know I’ve been super late on my requests due to finals and vacation, but I will try to get them out before August 😅 in the meantime, plz enjoy this

I wrote this with Shapey from Moral Orel in mind

You’re the youngest of the Sawyer family. Not by blood but you were taken in by them. Maybe you just happened to wander on their property and they took a liking to you. Or they decided to keep you after killing your family. Who knows. You’re too little to remember anyways

They named you Pepper cuz it sounds cute

You’re often left at home while the boys go do their own thing. You’re not allowed outside much. The outside world is dangerous, they say. You still sneak out a lot which worries poor Bubba

He can be overprotective but you love him a lot because he tends to you like a mother and gives the warmest hugs

You scream and bite anyone who tries to pry you off him

The house is littered with sharp weapons and bones, so Bubba panics at seeing you run around holding a knife like it’s a toy

Dayton usually doesn’t heed you much and simply pats your head as he leaves for work. At dinner, he tells you to eat all your food or your not leaving the table

Sometimes he’ll tell you interesting stories from his youth or about the family. Your a Sawyer so you gotta know all this

He can be short tempered though and will yell at you if you bother him too much or break something (which is often)

People often think he’s your grandpa, which really annoys him. It’s bad enough they already think he’s his brothers’ dad

Nubbins is weird but funny. He’s always showing you all kinds of pictures he’s taken and random stuff he’s gathered from raiding past victims (keychains, rings, toothbrushes, etc). He even made a few trinkets for you, like a tooth necklace or box of painted nails

He calls you funny names like “lil critter” or “rat” cuz you run around a lot. Dayton gets mad though and beats him for calling you that

Grandpa doesn’t say or do anything, which you find really boring as a hyperactive kid. Sometimes you’ll lay next to him and draw in your notebook as he just sits in his wheelchair, still as a corpse

By the time you meet Choptop, your a bit older

Since Nubbins calls you “rat”, it’s only fitting he calls you “roach”

Sometimes he’ll show you pictures he took while in Vietnam and crack some jokes but doesn’t often talk about it

You really like his 70s hippie stuff and decorated your own room with some of them. He introduces you to a lot of cool artists and bands popular at that time, even giving you some of his old albums

Daytons a pretty traditionalist kind of guy, so he’ll start telling you to dress/behave more like a proper lady and that the boys need to be better role models

[roachsideblog]

Goretober Day 12: Overworked

Thanks @nonsenseafterdark for the prompt list!

Day 11 here on my nsfw blog @sideroachblog (NO MINORS)

Words: 598

Pairings: None specifically, GhostRoach if you want! Or SoapRoach at the very end.

TWs: low blood sugar, fainting, needles/injections

Summary: A substitute Lieutenant overworks the team and Roach's body can't take it.

~~~

Roach stumbled off the track. His legs shook, body weak, sweaty, and ravenous, mood abysmally cranky. A familiar feeling, but definitely worse than usual. Unfortunately, Lieutenant Riley was out for an appointment, and the platoon leader that took them over skipped lunch hour to squeeze in vehicle maintenance before afternoon training. Dinner was hours away.

“You good, Sanderson?” Lieutenant Johnson asked.

“Fine,” he replied, voice weaker than expected.

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

Roach’s heartbeat wasn’t slowing and his hands shook, too. The world spun and his eyelids drooped.

Sensing something wrong, the man lunged forward just as he collapsed, managing to cushion his head from hitting the asphalt.

Roach woke propped up on a bench. Two medics flanked him, one checking his pulse while the other pricked his finger and collected a drop of blood into a glucose meter. Johnson filled his blurry vision.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty! Glad you came back to us,” one of the medics smiled.

The other said, “Thank god, our next step was to take your temperature. I see enough assholes in the shower room—the less I have to see on the clock, the better.”

The first exclaimed, “Holy fuck, that’s low!”

Roach barely registered what they said, nor when they rushed into action. His brain processed the sharp pain in his thigh—an epipen? He groaned as it shot liquid into his muscle. His consciousness began fading again. Did it not work?

The second time his eyes opened he still felt awful, but better at least.

Ghost’s voice greeted him. “How low was it?”

“Forty milligrams per deciliter. Fifty-five is considered dangerously low. We gave him a shot of Glucagon. That should wake him up soon. We’ll wait another five, check his blood sugar again, then give another dose if needed.”

Roach groaned. One of the medics sat him up straight, popped a bendy straw into some apple juice, and shoved the drink in his hands. He sucked it down before she even instructed him. The empty box was ripped away and replaced with a full one.

Ghost’s hand rested on his shoulder. “MacTavish is getting you a sandwich,” he said, rage poorly concealed in his voice. “You’ll feel better soon.”

The first medic turned to the stand-in Lieutenant. “Now that he’s alive, I get to scold you. Do not make me do this ever again. Take care of your sergeants so they aren’t dropping like flies.”

“Hey, the other ones are fine! He was fine until the end.”

“No the hell he wasn’t. Low blood sugar doesn’t just creep up to the point where you faint out of nowhere. Forty is potentially life threatening.”

“Right, right, my bloody apologies. I’ll give the toddlers a snack break next time, Christ.”

The medic said, “Damn right, you will.”

Soap rocketed into view from the left and slid to a stop on the asphalt in front of them, losing traction and slipping onto his ass, chest heaving. He saved the sandwich though, holding up a paper wrapper for Roach to snatch.

“Thanks, Soap," Ghost said. "Go get yourself some water.”

“Aye, Sir. How ye feelin,’ Roach?”

He shook his head through a massive bite of sandwich—peanut butter and jelly.

Ghost growled, “Lieutenant Johnson, meet me in my office in twenty minutes. They may be done chewing you out, but you’ve not been spit out yet.”

“And what are you saying, Riley? We’re equals, you know.”

“I’m gonna rip you a new one. If you won’t hear it from me, I’ll get Price in there with me. You’ll be lucky if you can sit by next week.”

[robiinurheart33]

Soap being jealous of roach? (TW for slight panic attack(?), intrusive thoughts and gore) - angst no comfort

Everyone knows how hard soap feels. He loves with his whole being; he loves with shoulder pats, confident and casual small talk, tiny gestures that mean the world to the people around him.

What everyone probably does not know is that soap feels hard for every single emotion. Anger is simple enough to see: steadfast disobedience at clear orders, growling at choices he doesn’t agree with, bubbling up in his throat to explode sometimes in the form of a punch.

Empathy is one of the things soap chooses to push down at times - it’s hard to do what he does if he thinks about the people involved too hard. Every opportunity he allows himself to connect emotionally with the people around him; he does.

Jealousy however; isn’t a foreign emotion to him. Contrary to what people may see on surface level, soap is not positive. He can laugh and smile, but he can just as easily shout and sneer. Soap isn’t proud of this, and he despises feeling this way almost every single day. There is a reason he’s so friendly all the time - the constant and very real fear of being replaced. He has to leave his mark, he has to be remembered. When he dies, what will he show for it? Will people remember him? Will people miss him? Will people even care?

So when this…roach shows up, how exactly is he supposed to react? He tries really hard; he really really does, but he knows it’s all futile in the end. Soap can handle him having inside jokes with Price and Gaz, Price looking at him exactly like how he sees all of 141, with pride and a trusting gaze. Soap quietly seethes. Gaz has inside jokes with roach, clapping him on the back and giving him a noogie, like roach is his little brother. Soap bites the inside of his cheek and it explodes with a stinging metal taste. But he cannot help the sickening jealousy that finally bursts in his head when he sees the soft crinkle of ghost’s eye when roach smiles at him.

What a fuckin’ cockroach.

He blinks, looking away quickly to take a sip of his beer, the lights in the bar suddenly too bright, the non-stop chattering suddenly too loud; and everything is crashing down at once. Everything is wrong. This is just wrong. He pushes it down though, smiles just the right way, laughs just in the right pitch. He couldn’t resist resting an elbow on ghost’s shoulder though, placing it there like a signal. See? He allows me to do this. Only me. I’m closer to him than you are.

Only when ghost finishes his bourbon, he picks up roach’s drink and takes a sip. Soap’s eyes widen slightly, only conveying a tiny ass fraction of the pure surprise that explodes in his body, locking him rigid. He glances between Price and Gaz, acting as if this is completely normal. Even when Ghost gives off an approving hum, placing down the glass with a small thunk, the sound echoing through soap’s mind. Even when roach acts like that was nothing. Even when they don’t notice soap hasn’t contributed in the conversation as much as he usually does. Even when- even when- even-

Soap takes the biggest gulp of air he can take discreetly, blowing it out into his cup as he takes another fuckin sip. Just like Ghost did with Roach’s glass.

He stands up, not patting Ghost’s shoulder as he tells them he needs to take a piss. He doesn’t look at any of them. He physically can’t. Every time he blinks he sees himself punching roach in the face, ripping the mask off and stuffing it down his throat. He sees himself breaking a beer bottle in half, slicing his neck cleanly and watching the blood steadily pour out. He sees himself sobbing at the table, begging to know that he isn’t a replacement to roach. He sees himself banging his head against the table until his brain matter slides off and falls onto the ground. He-

Soap dunks his head under the tap, taking in heaps of air until he’s borderline hyperventilating, trying to not get lost in his own head. He knows it isn’t roach’s fault. He’s been great company he’s the fucking worst and everything he’s feeling is the culmination of his own insecurity. But fuck, if that doesn’t just piss him off even more. Knowing there isn’t an actual reason to hate roach. He groans, slamming the edge of his palm to his forehead repeatedly to try and clear his brain.

Soap wants to rip this ugly feeling out of his chest, he wants to be normal. He needs to be normal. Soap wants to grab the black tar that gathers in his throat and chest, cleanse himself of everything. Soap wants to rip his hair out. Soap wants to know that he is safe. Soap wants to scratch his skin raw. Soap wants to bleed until he cannot feel anymore. Soap wants-

Soap looks up from the sink as the bathroom door opens. Speak of the god damned devil. Roach and Soap make eye contact with each other, an awkward silence filling the air for a few seconds before

Hey.

“Hey man.”

Roach shuffles a bit awkwardly to the sink, filling the silence with the sound of running water as soap dries his face. Just as he was about to turn and walk out the door, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Soap’s tense muscles somehow locked even more as he turned towards roach, hoping his facial expression wasn’t saying I hope you die in a ditch somewhere.

Sorry if tonight was awkward. I know how disorienting it can be to meet new people out of the blue. Especially since I used to be part of 141 and stuff… Roach’s hands falter and he wrings his hands nervously, as if not knowing what to say. Soap just stares at him. And…you seem like a really nice person. I would wanna get to know you better, if that’s okay with you? Roach looks at him with hesitation and Soap does. Not. Move. He probably took a lot longer than usual to reply, to even move or change his facial expression, but once his mind truly absorbs the words,

“Of course. Any friend of 141 is a friend of mine.” Soap automatically pats roach on the back and gives him an all teeth smile. Crinkles at the eyes. Warm look. Roach relaxes instantly, clapping him on the bicep.

Idiot. It’s probably a good thing no one else really knows how he feels.

[urfriendlylocalidiot]

Could you do pranks with blackpink? Like either the member gets pranked or they team up to prank another member? Thank u!!

I was a little confused but went with the first option!

Pranks w/ BLACKPINK

Jisoo

It was a harmless prank, just a simple mayo and toothpaste swap. Her toothpaste was almost run out anyways and maybe she just… misplaced the backup. Jisoo would definitely have been so confused. However once she gets that it was a prank… you better sleep with one eye open.

This of course led to a prank war between you two. Her response? Some good old fake roaches in your salad. Let’s just say it really freaked you out the first time. However she insisted that it was good for you, more protein and all that.

After that, you knew you had to come up with something more for the next prank. However, try as you might, you just couldn’t think of one. Until it struck you, you turned all the clocks in your apartment to 5 minutes earlier (including her phone). To this day, she never caught on.

Jennie

You had been around Jennie too much. Of course this wasn’t really much of a complaint for you, however, you will admit, life was a little … dull. So what better way to spice it up than with some spicy chocolates. You had found the perfect fake chocolates at a prank store nearby, and it wouldn’t shock Jennie that much that you were to randomly surprise her with chocolates one day.

And it really was harmless for the most part. You got a good laugh out of it and quickly handed her a glass of milk. And that was the end of it, or so you thought. You had forgotten one little detail — Jennie cooks your dinner. That phrase ‘don’t bite the hand that feeds you’ definitely came true for you.

Not only was your dinner extra spicy tonight, your drink had a little something extra in it as well (laxatives). You spent the rest of that night in the bathroom, and Jennie ordered actual chocolates from your favorite chocolatier. Let’s just say you learned better than to mess with Jennie’s chocolates that night.

Rosé

Let’s just say Rosé should’ve thought twice about dating a graphic designer. Usually it was quite useful, you were able to edit her pictures and create truly beautiful images. However this one time, it was the most nerve wracking moment of her whole career.

Your prank on her? A fake dispatch article for April Fools. And it was one your better works, if you were being so honest with yourself. It looked real, it genuinely looked like dispatch had just leaked Rosé and yours relationship. Except for one minor detail, it was never posted, just created.

After you showed it to her, you immediately regretted it. You saw her face instantly lose all its color and felt her grip you in fear. Of course, you immediately wrapped her in your arms and told her it was a prank. And thank god you did, she was nearly in tears.

Lisa

It was the best day ever! Lisa was finally coming home to you from her world tour. Of course, this meant a home-cooked dinner and your favorite dinner (and a prank). Your prank of choice this time? A bedroom full of balloons. After all you were just so happy that Lisa was coming home.

Lisa would obviously be so happy to be reunited with you after all this time. Of course she called and texted you while she was on tour, but it just wasn’t the same as being with you. It was even better when she came home to her favorite meal — which you had learned from her mom. And you even let her choose the movie since you insisted it was her big night, little did she know, it was just to butter her up before she discovered that your bedroom was a literal balloon pit.

Honestly Lisa would probably be the best sport about it. She wouldn’t even get mad, she’d just laugh and play with you in the balloon room you’d basically made. Of course, the next day would be full of popping the balloons, let’s just say you guys were finding rubber for weeks afterwards.