#he places his hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming and then shoves a black leather gag in her mouth turning her screams for help

[girlsdenaked93]

Ravishing Ashlyn Gere stars as best-selling author with a mysterious past in Eric Edwards' hottest feature to date.

With just a few encouraging words, Aubree helps bring Chanel around to feeling better. PROCEED...

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Toy (Wolverine)

Description: Logan is pissed and takes it out on Y/N, sexually.

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 988

Request: what if logan came home from a rough mission and jus took all that anger out on y/n 🤭🤭🤭

Logan was fuming, I mean he was pissed. Wade and him went on a mission and it almost didn’t go their way. Wade being Wade had to be joking and laughing during the mission but Logan wasn’t in the mood. Nothing about killing those guys was funny but Wade had to make it. His fingers gripped the wheel so hard he was turning red.

His face was red, hell his dick was even red at this point. He couldn’t wait to get home and fuck his little toy. Y/N was in for a treat when he got back. He didn’t care if Wade heard or even watched. He just needed to let off some steam. He was so in his thoughts that he didn’t hear Wade trying to talk to him, “What?” He snapped at the merc. “I was just saying that we should have Tacos tonight.” Wade said and Logan rolled his eyes, “Yeah sure whatever.” He didn’t care about dinner right now.

Only Y/N’s sweet tight pussy. The ride home felt like forever but when they got back he didn’t even turn the car off, he just stormed into the apartment. Y/N sat on the couch watching TV when Logan came in and oh did he look mad. She quickly got up, “What’s wrong?” She asked him but he ignored her and threw her over his shoulder ignoring her protest. He took her to his room not caring about the door being shut or not. He threw her on the bed and she stared up at him in shock and lust.

He pulled her legs to the end of the bed and pulled down her sweats, “I need to taste this pussy.” He growled and yanked her panties down. The fresh scent of her arousal hit his nose as her pussy was now bare to him and wetter than ever. He wasted no time and shoved his face in between her legs causing her to moan out. He placed both hands on each thigh to make sure she doesn’t close around his head. She threw her head back as she felt his tongue explore her with all his might. He was mad, so furious with the mission and this was the only way he could let it out without getting violent.

It was either this or kill Wade. Her hands laced themselves in his hair and he growled against her causing a vibration to shoot through her body. She whined his name and started to move her hips but he held her in place. He was grunting and growling against her pussy like an animal. “So wet.” He mumbled against her. “Mine.” She enjoyed him being possessive and didn’t dare to ask why he was like this. “Logan fuck baby. You’re so good.” She praised him.

His grip on her thighs tightened and she hissed at the pain. It was definitely gonna leave a bruise or two. His nose started bumping against her clit on the perfect angle. It was over from there. She was cumming and screaming his name. Her eyes were rolled back and he never slowed for a minute until she struggled against him to push him away. She looked at him and her jaw dropped. His mouth was covered in her slick and he wore a dangerous smirk. Hair all messy from her grabbing it. He looked sexy.

He stood up without a word and got undressed. She was in awe at the sight of his abs. His abs were perfect and it made her pussy pulse. He crawled on top of her and growled, “Are you gonna take it like a good girl?” Of course she was. She had never been more turned on in her life. She nodded and he grabbed her face, “Say it.” He demanded. “Yes.” She whispered. “Good.” He said and lined his thick cock up with her entrance. He sighed at how great her pussy was and how it held him. She whimpered at the feeling of being stretched out by such a big cock. “Fuck, you have the perfect pussy sweet girl. Love it so much.” He bottomed out and smirked.

She stared up at him with want and even though he was being rough with her. She wanted it and so much more. He started thrusting rough and hard, completely taking her breath away. She was gasping and moaning. She could hardly keep her eyes open. “Eyes on me, doll.” He said and she opened them. They made eye contact and he smirked at her again. Her mouth was open and all types of pornographic noises were leaving her mouth for him. “Fuck.” He grunted and closed his eyes.

She stared up at him and watched his face fall into a pleasurable expression. He was so hot. He was rearranging her guts and all she wanted to do was kiss him. So she did. The kiss wasn’t passionate or soft, it was rough and messy. He was twitching inside of her after a few minutes, “Fuck i’m close baby. I’m gonna fill you up.” He warned her and she nodded. “Please Lo, please cum in me. I need it so bad.” Her words egged him on even more. They had never talked like this to each other before. “Yeah sweet girl. I can feel that pussy wanting to cum too. Cum for me baby.” Her pussy clenched around him and he came hard.

She gasped loudly and she came with him. Her hips slowly moved to ride out their orgasms before he collapsed next to her out of breath. “Shit.” She said and looked over at him. “The mission sucked ass and Wade pissed me off.” He told her and she nodded, “Glad I could be of help.” She said, He turned towards her and pulled her on top of him, “You’re my sweet toy to use and to play with. Never forget that.”

[muffinlance]

The feral cat gator of a 13 year old freshly scarred Zuko being forcibly adopted by the foggy swamp tribe! Bonus points if they willfully ignore the fact he's a firebender and treat him as a very strange waterbender bending-wise

It was Earth Kingdom ships that drove the metal one onto the reefs, so when the little thing came crawling up through the marsh spitting and hissing and dressed in red, they knew it weren’t no earthbender. No matter how much mud it had tripped in, trying to find where the ground stopped sucking at its feet.

“Wow-ee,” said Old Earl, “that sure is one way of keepin’ off the ‘squito-chiggers.”

And they all watched from Big Earl’s porch, sitting or rocking, as them bugs came for the all-you-can-eat and ended up on the bar-b-que.

“Sure is some weird bending,” said Little Earl, who was taller than Big Earl, but when they'd been twelve and they’d wrestled for the title it hadn't been Little Earl who’d won.

The little thing looked maybe twelve, too. And he was little little. But he had that same look like he was going to shove someone’s face in the mud until they said otherwise, as he stood there all panting and dripping and just realizing they’d been watching him this whole time.

“It’s firebending,” the one-kid mud-wrestler said, as bugs kept pop-snapping into flames around him.

Old Earl cupped a hand over his ear, like he couldn’t hear. And he kept doing it, while the kid got louder and louder about that bending of his, but quieter and quieter about looking at them like they were his next bugs.

“Oh, firebending,” Old Earl said, nodding like he’d only just got it, when the kid had stomped straight up to his chair. “Right, right, Old Jane’s got fire-water-bending, too. Why don’t you take him to her, boys.”

“It’s not-- ugh,” shouted the kid, but maybe he only had the one volume. Certainly only had the one volume for stomping, even though stomping was what got a fellow’s shoes shoved down so deep in the mud they’d be seeing them again as mole-shrimp hats. Not that the kid had shoes. Neither did Earl, Earl, or Earl. ‘Cept for Fancy Earl, but he’d gone off to Ba-Singing-Se, to be fancy.

Anyway, Old Jane was the best at turning anything and everything into fire water, which was the kind of thing a fellow called his or her liquor when they wanted fancy folk to keep right on walking. Was really good for making shouty little firebrands take their naps, too, which let Old Jane get her glowing mitts all over that fresh burn of his. And the love-bites from the shark-wrasses that had probably been half the reason the kid had come a-shore all a-shouting in the first place.

“Nope,” diagnosed Old Jane, when the kid woke back up. “That’s just how he talks. Mother was a screamer-bird, I’d say.”

“You take that back about my mother,” screamed their screamer-bird, who had pretty good hearing for someone who’s ear had lost the same fight as his eye. Anyway, Old Jane had done the best she could about both, and nothing was on fire that shouldn’t be, and she had that extra quilt she’d been working on that needed a body under it

And the waves and the shark-wrasses had all the rest of the kid’s crew

So sure enough they set their little screamer-bird up with a nest and let him cry loud as he wanted.

Anyway, if there was one thing Earl Earl Earl and Jane knew, it was how to make a joke so good the other person didn’t even know it were a joke.

“Firebending,” their little fledgling shouted, and waved his arms around, like all that fire pointed at no one was going to get them startled off.

“A-yep,” nodded Old Earl. “That there is some fire-water-bending. Just like Old Jane.”

Old Jane wasn’t the kind of gal who showed off, but she wasn’t the kind who missed no cue, either. She swirled a lick o’ liquor out of her latest barrel and twirled it ‘round and straight into her mouth, and when she spit it out, it looked so much like the little bird’s breath-o’-fire that he didn’t even notice the spark rocks she kept on her fingers as jewelry. No one did, ‘til they’d seen the trick a few times.

The kid’s mouth hung open so low and so long, a moth-tick flew in. That was some kind of life lesson, that was. The swamp was good at sending those.

The Earth Kingdom sent troops a-stompin’ through, losing boots and scaring catigators out of their sunning spots left and right, askin’ all rumbly about those fires they’d spotted, and if anyone from that shipwreck had made it on shore, and talkin’ about how there’d be money in it for them if they made that last answer a “yes,” sounding like Fancy Earl and all his talk about commerce and living standards.

“Got a few parts of them ship people in the lagoon,” Big Earl said. “Probably still floatin’ if you want ‘em. But we better bring the shrimp-minnow nets, ‘cuase they’ll just slosh on through the turtle-sturgeon ones.”

“...No thank you,” the head stomper said, like sayin’ polite words made a fellow a polite man. He’d tracked those boots of his right up onto their porch without so much as a scuff on their mud rug. Even the kid had used the mud rug. “And the fire?”

“Oh,” said Little Earl, with a grin, “that was Old Jane.”

And she did her trick again, only less tricky, so they could see the spark rocks real good. “You boys want some fire water?” she offered. “It ain’t blinded no one who wasn’t already headed that way.”

They didn’t want any, which was grand, ‘cause she hadn’t really been offering.

When the last of them had gone stomping off back to the kind of land that let people stomp it, it took them two whole hours to lure out the catigators from under the porch. And their little screamer bird, too.

“...Why didn’t you turn me in?”

“What?” asked Old Earl, cupping his ear.

“Why—”

“What?”

“—didn’t—”

“WHAT?”

“—you—”

“Speak up, boy,” Old Earl said. “I never heard such a quiet child.”

And boy, did that set their bird back to singing.

[blkluci]

𝑴𝑯𝑨 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒔 and you fighting…

CHARACTERS )) katsuki bakugo, eijiro kirishima, shoto todoroki, izuku midoriya.

PLOT )) a headcanon of the boys seeing you fight.

A/N )) this purely based off my imagination! lil mina slander, todoroki getting down and overall comedic. feel like i should do a part 2 maybe, yall lemme know how yall feel bout this one :) requests are open and hope yall enjoy.

[ 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈 ] bakugo heard you mention that this girl has been talking about you. explaining that she’s said things in the hallways and during canteen time. “stop focusing on stupid extras. it's not worth it.” was his response. when you hadn’t mentioned anything about her, he assumed the whole thing was over; boy was he wrong

… kats walked to your 5th period to escort you down to the cafe for lunch

… as he neared the classroom he heard commotion and saw a group forming in front of the door

… for some reason he had a unsettling feeling in his gut and you instantly popped in his mind

-> “get out the damn way extras!”

… pushing people out the way and threatening them he got into the room

… katsuki’s jaw slacked

… he saw you holding tsunotori poni by her horns while mackin her face in

… every punch connected with her face

… he was truly in shock and impressed

… the poor girl tried her hardest to fight you off but winning to no avail; only able to kick her legs

… the teacher, vlad, yelling for students to get away and breaking up the fight

… katsuki couldn’t help but feel a little proud and attracted to this anger that is always concealed from him

… you remind him of himself

-> “alrigh’, you could let ‘er go. you got ‘er”

… he pulls you away and carries you away in his arms

… vlad held the weak girl in his arms as her nose bled

-> “‘ND DON’T EVER SPEAK ABOUT ME AGAIN!”

… he chuckled

[ 𝐄𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎 ] kirishima felt the shift in the energy when your fellow classmate, mina, decided to push up her on him KNOWING that’s your man. there’ve been times where she’s done and said things that you had to check her about and she “apologized”. “babe c’mon, don’t feed into it.” she was feeling particularly bold today tho when you checked her at the end of class.

… eijiro didn’t have enough time to react when the desks were shoved out the way and y’all squared up

… you charged at her

… not even giving him time to fully comprehend

… mina thought that she could keep testin you and not get put in place and you did that exactly

… you ate her up!

… dragging her across the floor and knocking her head in

-> “y/n stop!”

… eiji felt adrenaline course through his veins

… fear of you getting hurt, you getting in trouble, mina dying

… eijiro pulled you off of mina but you wouldn’t let her hair go

… you kicked her in her face and she screamed as aizawa and all might rushed to help her

-> “THAT’S WHY YOU KNOTTED!”

… eijiro pulled you out to the hallway

… he was gonna scold you but he could do anything but hold

you as you spilled your anger to him

… he smiles at you and winces when mina passes by being taken to the nurse

-> “ouch, she’s gonna need a little more than just ice”

… he’s gotta fighter on his hands

[ 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐎 ] todoroki is obviously to most things; if not, everything. the boy doesn’t seem to catch the girls who constantly are gagging over him. “oh, i’ve never noticed that.” oh and they see you, they know you! BUT OBVIOUSLY not enough. so during lunch, when two girls scroll over to you both and blatantly flirt with him and disrespect you– your boyfriend sees another side of you.

… poor sho never seen someone jump as fast

… your hands instantly connected with the girls face

… knocking the disrespect out her mouth and knocking her to the ground

… shoto sort of panicked when seeing you this angered and beating someone up

… people started to crowd which alerted teachers

… outta nowhere some guy tried to hurt

… shoto wasn’t havin’ it

… his body moved before his mind

… the guy punched sho in the face

… yeah. he saw red

-> “you’re weak.”

… while you stomped that girl in, sho beat that guy up

-> “TRY IT AGAIN!”

… in the end you both were sent to the principals office and reprimanded

… sitting in the chairs outside principal nezu’s office, you guys chatted

-> “he tried it but miserably failed.”

… y’all’s is a dangerous duo

[ 𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐔 ] midoriya fights all the time, heroically, many times alongside you even. but seeing you in a drama fight is something he doesn’t wanna see. so when you tell him you fighting this girl after school tomorrow he opposes your decision. “b-babe. maybe, not the best idea. please don’t.” you took heed of his words and let it go; till she snuck you.

… izuku was nowhere close when this happened

… denki and mineta were the ones that alerted him

… boy one for all’d his way downstairs

… so many thoughts circled his brain as neared the chaos

… he pushed around everyone and spotted you

-> “babe!”

… the girl under you was leaking from her eye

… you weren’t letting up

… he uses force to pull you two apart and pull you away

… you screamed at yelled to be let go

-> “SNEAKED AND GOT DROPPED!”

… poor izuku had to pull you to a whole other room

… he shook you out of your crazy state

… after izuku helped you to calm down, you explained what happened

… he was mad

… zu was ready to fight too

… but he knew a better way to get back

-> “i’m sorry for not being there but i think you got her bad.”

… the privileges of being all might’s predecessor

See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know him. (1 John 3:1)

[comatosebunny09]

misunderstanding | sylus

summary: it was all because the shopkeep got a little handsy. a little too comfortable, purring his name like that. he shrugged her off; did you not see that part? genre(s): romance, angst warning(s): alcohol, drunk reader, self-esteem issues, insecurities, language, short and sweet notes: inspired by that one scene from fifty shades of grey.

Imagine calling Sylus while you’re drunk off your ass.

When you’ve thrown back one too many long islands, and while your friends are all inside, shacked up with their significant others and happy. You toddle outside for some fresh air and a break from your own head.

His voice breaks through the static, all heavy with sleep. But he answers so quickly because you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder. Been brief with your texts, ignoring his phone calls, and going out of your way to avoid running into him. He’s given you your space—minus Mephisto perched outside your window each night, watching you like a hawk.

“Hello?” Sylus husks, bed sheets rustling in the background as he maneuvers himself to sit up.

Somewhere far off, you feel bad for waking him. He already sleeps like shit. But you have liquid encouragement on your side, so you shove that guilt down, down, down in favor of poking the proverbial bear.

Your words are all blurred together, and you can barely keep your eyes open as you prop yourself up on a safety bollard, holding your phone to your ear with two hands.

“Why don’t you like me?”

“I—What?”

You swallow thick. Feel the world swirling and your body teetering, but you press on.

“Why don’t you like me, Sylus? Am I not your type? Is it ‘cause I’m not rich? Not skinny?”

He laughs, all incredulous on the other end. You imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose in the stillness of his bedroom, disbelieving of the shit spilling from your mouth. And so early in the evening, too.

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“Me. I mean, am I annoying?  I kinda am. I talk a lot. But that lady—the one from before. That shopkeeper chick. She was really hot. Like, supermodel hot.”

Your name comes out in an exasperated sigh. “That’s what this is about?”

You confirmed his suspicions. Why you’ve been playing keep-away. Ever since you accompanied him a few weeks back to gather some intel from a verified source, you’ve been acting distant. All because the shopkeep got a little handsy. A little too comfortable, purring his name like that. He shrugged her off. Wordlessly put her in her place. Did you not see that part?

Sylus doesn’t know whether to laugh or scream.

“No, no, wait. Lemme finish. She seemed more your type. Like the kinda chick you’d be into, ya know? You two’d be like Mr. and Mrs. Smith.”

He groans, and this time, you picture him hanging his head low. His long fingers splayed over his face in exhaustion.

“Where are you? Have you been drinking?”

“Mind your business,” you say around a hiccup.

And you’re catching yourself on the bollard, giggling stupidly at how pathetic you must look. Trying to catch your footing like a baby fawn.

“Only had one or two. Maybe three or six. I’m a big girl. A big, un-pretty girl, according to Mr. Sylus.”

A car honks in the distance. You barely stir from it, eyes shuttering as your head falls onto your arm roosted on the bollard.

“Where are you?” Sylus prods again.

There’s a little more urgency this time. A little more concern lurking beneath the tenor of his voice, and the sleep’s almost completely vanished from it.

“Out.”

You burn hot. Sway as the alcohol thickens in your veins. Something of a smile twitches your lips. For a second, you’re convinced he actually gives a shit about you.

“Sweetie, please. I don’t have the patience to entertain your mind games today. And stop putting words into my mouth. Not once have I ever referred to you as ‘un-pretty.’”

You snort. Stumble away from the bollard to lean against a brick wall. It’s cold and raw against your bare back. The world’s a pretty bokeh of light around. Maybe you did have a little too much to drink.

His voice drops an octave. Skates between sincerity and something dulcet; doting.

“You’re anything but. You’re gorgeous. Breathtaking. Incredibly resourceful and infuriatingly kind. You’re tough. And you don’t talk too much. In fact, I wish you would spend more time talking about yourself.”

Your lips crook with a smile. Your eyes begin to water. Your cheeks are warmer now, and you’re not sure if it’s from the alcohol or the words spuming so effortlessly from the other end of your phone.

You hear fabric rustling. Hear his mattress creaking and things being jostled about in the background. Drawers. Clothes. Shoes clicking against marbled tiles.

“Tell me where you are,” he asserts. “I’m coming to get you.”

“No, no, no!”

You wave your hand dismissively like he can see. You feel bad enough having dragged him down with you. Having dredged up your insecurities and projected them onto him like that. No reason to make him leave the sanctity of his bed to entertain your foolishness.

“It’s cool, Syl. I’ll catch a cab.”

“I’m not asking,” he clips in a tone that leaves no room for argument.

You swallow, suddenly feeling cold sobriety creep in. Metal jangles through the static. Keys. Car keys. A door shuts, followed by an engine stuttering and drawing a breath in. He taps a few buttons on his console. Releases a sigh.

“I’m on my way. Stay where you are. Don’t go running off with any strangers, alright, sweetheart?”

Something warm spills into your tummy. You slide down the wall onto your ass, holding your head in your hands with your phone propped to your ear using your shoulder.

“Sylus, really. You don’t have to do that. I’ll be good—”

“I want to,” he insists. Already peeling out of his driveway and zooming through the streets of the N109 Zone. “Stay on the line. Don’t hang up. I’ll be there soon. Promise.”

You sigh at your own stupidity. At your own pitifulness. Making him come play knight in shining armor like that. All because you couldn’t hold your liquor. Your tongue. Though, you can’t stifle the tiny ping of hope resounding in your head.

“Okay. I’ll wait. But can we get ice cream when you get here?”

He chuckles, the sound of it brassy yet comforting through the drunken slurry of your brain.

“Sure, sweetheart. Whatever you want.”

masterlist

[thebearer]

arguing with carmen and its big enough where you leave for the night but what’s even scarier to him is that you also took teddy

he'd have an actual psychotic break, nervous breakdown.

especially bc i'm picturing him reverting back to his old ways. it's rare, but he slips into a full carmy (in the lock in) level meltdown. gets unbalanced and spirals further and further, and you just happen to be who he takes it out on.

screaming at you like a maniac over something stupid- you didn't wash his spare whites (he didn't tell you they needed to be washed). it's his fault, he knows it deep down, still he's losing his shit because it's the final straw.

"you stay at home all day! all fucking day and you can't do one thing!" carmen's red faced, screaming.

you're shocked, scared, on the brink of sobbing yourself. teddy's woke up from her nap, his screaming startled her. the newborn wailing from her nursery.

"carmen, you didn't tell me-"

"-i shouldn't have to!" carmen roars. "you're home all day-"

"-i'm on maternity leave. i just had a baby-"

"-oh, so. you can't do one fuckin' thing now? i have to do it all here too?" carmen is spiraling, pacing, running a hand down his face. "i get no fuckin' sleep, go work my fuckin' ass off, a-and then i come home so i can go back and work my ass off some more, and you can't help me out?"

his words sting, shock you with the weight of them. swallowing back tears, you turn, climbing the stairs to the bedroom.

carmen is scoffing, hands shaking with rage and annoyance and just overwhelmed. your ignoring him stings. makes him spiral even more. "don't go do it now! it's too late!" carmen scoffs. "i've got a fuckin' critic coming in two hours, and i'll wear stained whites. probably get a shitty review about our food being gross an-and the chef being just as bad!"

you texted pete through your tears, telling him that you were coming to stay there for a while. shoving clothes for the night in your small bag quickly, hands shaking when you zipped it up, your wedding ring flashing at you. you stared at it, a wave of tears coming over you, screwing the ring off your finger and setting it on carmen's night stand next to a photo of you two on your honeymoon.

you packed teddy and anchovy's things quickly, knowing you'd come back tomorrow to get what else you needed. just the essentials, to get through the night. anchovy in his carrier, and teddy in her's, you ignored carmen's pacing, his deep breaths and clenched eyes, walking straight to the garage.

carmen looked up at the sound of the door, standing quickly. a damning rush of horror, of realization washed over him, pulled him right out of his clouded tantrum.

"w-what- what are you- hey, what-" carmen runs towards the car door, where you're putting teddy's car seat into place, shushing the wailing girl gently.

"-don't fucking touch me." you sneer, teeth bared in primal rage, pure protectiveness.

"baby, wait, wait, ju-just hold on. where're you- hey, don't- where're you goin'?" carmen's frantic, eyes wide, stomach churning.

you shut the car door, moving past him without looking to get to the driver's side. "no, no, no, no, no. don't-baby please, don't. i-i-i'm sorry. i'm sorry!" carmen's stuttering in fear, hands shaking trying to hold the door open, keep you from shutting it.

"let go." you growl, yanking the door. "you're not going to talk to me like that, carmen. i don't care if you're stressed, i don't care. you're not going to come home and talk to me like that because you fucked up. not when i've been at home all day taking care of our- my child."

carmen feels dizzy, mouth filling with spit, sure he's about to throw up.

you slam the door, eyes watery and red and angry, glaring at him before pulling out of the driveway.

carmen's left alone in the garage, knees weak, hands shaking. his ears are ringing, head spinning, sure that he's hallucinating- that this has to be a sick sick dream. floods of realization icy through his veins.

the house is eerily quiet, so still. no teddy, no anchovy, no you.

he isn't sure how long he sits in the garage, the sun sinking in the horizon, but he stays motionless and still. richie shows up eventually, frantic and wide eyed.

"cousin! what the fuck? dinner service started a fuckin' hour ago, and we-" he stops, slowing his stride when he gets closer. carmen's vacant gaze, trembling hands.

"hey, carm, what's goin' on? you-you alright?" richie's voice dropped low and slow, like he used to with mikey. "carmen. hey, what's-"

"-she left." carmen whispered, his eyes wide in horror. "she-she left and she took t-teddy." carmen breaks, a sob choking out of his throat.

"why? why did she-" richie stops, looking at carmen. "carmen, what did you do?"

carmen sobs- no, wails. broken and terrified and horrified. full chest sobs that are more like screams. the realization of what he had done, what he had said, feeling the full weight of the consequences of his actions for the first time.

[buckyalpine]

Beefy Bucky Obsessed with your clit. He’s so thick and beefy and large and delicious and obsessed with the tiniest part of you between your legs.

“Fuck, I love the pretty sounds you make when I play with you there baby” he groaned, shoving your legs apart as wide as they’d go as you laid naked on his bed. His eyes were fixated on your soaked cunt, specifically his favourite part, biting his lip before pushing his hips forward so his cock head would nudge your sensitive nub.

“Buckyyy” you whined, as he let out a dark chuckle, pushing your knees back so you were on full display.

“Shhh, lemme play with your cute little button baby, I love the little squeals you make when I-” he spat onto your clot before pressing his thumb firmly against you, rubbing tight circles, already building up your orgasm “-when I rub you like this”

He loves alternating between watching your pretty contorted face and twitching and quivering pussy, shoving his cock in without warning making you scream.

“Fuck you get so tight around my dick when I touch your clit princess” he gently pinches it with while continuing to tail you, moaning at how delicate you feel there.

He’s a bigger menace with having you ride his face.

“C’mon, sit on my face sugar, lemme nurse off your sweet clit baby, I want it” he grabs your hips and slams them down on his face, breathing be damned, his hand furiously fisting his cock while wrapping his lips and suckling greedily. He meant it when it said he wanted to nurse off you, groaning and lapping at you like a hungry puppy, his metal arm holding you in place.

He doesn’t give a fuck about if you’re out on a mission either. He can see the stress on your face and he wants to make it better. He drags you to an empty hall, pushing you to a corner, caging you in.

“James, what are you-”

“Shhh, just let me feel it, don’t make a sound baby” he whispered in your ear, shoving his hand down your tac pants and pulling your panties aside. He swiped his fingers through your folds till he finds that exact spot, your clit swollen and silky on his calloused fingers. “Yeah, right there huh, I’ll rub it all better,”

“J-Jamie please” you gasp, collapsing against his thick form while he holds you up with ease, moving faster.

“I know it feels good baby, know you’re a needy little baby who needy daddy to make her princess parts all better when they’re tingly”

He gets so dirty when he’s like his, his own cock aching with need. He pulls it out and guides your hand to stroke him, thrusting his hips forward while moaning in your ear. You feel him harden in your hand, his length twitching while your legs feel like jelly, biting down on his jacket to muffle your screams.

“You’re all wound up, aren’t you doll, so stressed, could tell by your face you needed daddy to come rub you, needed daddy to rub it better”

“Oh god, please!” You wailed, jerking him faster, his hips stuttering when you focused on his cockhead.

“Together pretty girl, together, make a mess in your panties baby, we’ll make a mess together-fuck-oh god fuckkk” Bucky hissed, trying to keep from getting too loud while he slapped his hand over your mouth as you came. Thick white ropes of his spend shot onto the wall, dribbles of it coating your fingers. He pulled his hand out, licking your arousal off.

“Gonna clean that mess up with my tongue when we get home princess”

Alright, back to work.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Seeing Red

What else is there to say about the thorough-paced scoundrel that aches to behold my demise than how blood curdling the sound of Gwayne Hightower is?

bodyguard!Gwayne Hightower x Lannister!Reader | 700< | cw: fem!reader, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, fluff, reader kinda violent lmao, typos, etc.

A/N: inspired by this anon i got <3. Guys i made Part 2

"Are you writing about me again?"

I sigh. Thus, the ambiance is the garden is now wretched.

I look up from my journal, watching the ghastly miscreant, dressed in a horrid shade of green walk over to me. It's a wonder my teeth has not broken with all the times I've clenched my jaw at the sight of him. I lean into my knees and grab my shoe. I send it flying to him in a fit of annoyance.

Curse my aim for endlessly failing me.

Gwayne Hightower cocks his head from side to side after he dodges my assault. He puts on his irritating grin as he reaches for the grapes on the tiered dessert stand beside me. I swat him away but even that, he evades. His smug expression remains as he chews, "the carriage is ready now."

I shut my journal and bind its ties. I stand from my seat, lifting my foot, "fetch my shoe, dog."

He takes a bonbon and licks his fingers, "you are more than well-abled to fetch your own smelly shoe."

I rest my shoeless foot on my chair, "you dare insult and defy your lady?"

"Oh, but I see no lady," he knits his brows and pouts, "only a puerile, little girl," he stuffs his rubbish mouth with my sweet dessert.

"That isn't for your consumption, you swollen ignoramus."

He opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue. I make a face at the sight of the chewed up food. He shrugs and licks his lips, "you're more than welcome to pry it out of my mouth."

I try to swat him with my journal, but he steps back before I can. He watches me, bemused that I cannot follow, as I am unwilling to step my foot on the ground.

One of the maids pass. I point at her, "Abigail! Get my shoe."

She turns to me and nods, "yes, milady."

I watch as she scurries off to get my shoe from the grass where it landed. She grabs it and sprints over. Gwayne dusts off his hands, turning to her. He silently reaches a hand to Abigail and she bows, handing him my shoe.

When she walks away, the idiot walks over. He and I stare at each other for a moment. I roll my eyes at him when he licks his lips. I try to grab the shoe from him, but he moves, raising it over his head.

I chuckle dryly, "and I'm the puerile, little girl?"

Gwayne gives a lopsided smile and tilts his head back. Oh, how infuriating his dimples were.

My blood boils and I grip my skirt tightly. Before I am able to hit him with my journal, he drops down to one knee and takes my ankle.

My stomach drops and I gasp, nearly toppling back in shock. My hand comes to his shoulder too keep myself up, "Gwayne-"

"Hush, cub," he mutters, eyes not leaving my face. I stiffen as he slowly pushes my skirts up to my knee. His hand rubs my stocking-clad leg, and goosebumps erupt on my arms in response. My lips part as he slips the shoe on my foot, "you and your whining."

I pull my journal to my chest, feeling my heart thunder.

"Perhaps I should give you something to whine about."

My pulse skips when he kisses my shin. I feel my body burn.

He pulls my skirt down then abruptly stands. He places his hands behind his back and examines my face. I watch the way his adam's apple bobs as he swallows. In turn, I miss the way the corner of his lips quirk, "you look dull when there are no thoughts behind your eyes, dear."

I am immediately snapped out his my trance. The grin that spreads on his face enrages me. Without hesitation, I lift my foot off the chair and stop my heel to his foot.

Gwayne screams and lurches forward. He grabs me as he raises what I assume is his throbbing foot. I smile happily at him, yet a whine leaves me when he squeezes my arm too hard. I wrangle out of his grip and shove him away.

He leans on the chair for balance, and I quickly find my smile, "oh, come now, ser. You find yourself so easily defeated."

His only response is his pained sounds.

"The carriage is ready. We must not delay."

I walk away. Gwayne watches. He shakes his head and rubs his foot, mumbling to himself, "a dirty game for a dirty girl."

[danikamariewrites]

Could you do ACOTAR men x reader headcanons where how they would react/ respond to reader shoving her cold hands up their shirts?

My hands and feet are always cold so I always have my hands in my pockets or in between my thighs. And I always have some hot hands packs in my jacket during the colder months.

As I am typing this, I’m waiting for my socks to finish warming up in the dryer so my feet are warm 😀

Always so Cold

ACOTAR Men x reader

A/n: I’m always cold too anon and this weather is killing me bc of my Raynaud’s. I hope your socks are nice and toasty babes 🥰

Also @redbleedingrose did one like this a while ago and I reread it all the time it's so good (along with literally everything else she writes) you can read it here

Warnings: none

Rhysand

He would be working when you come into his office and you’d innocently start rubbing his shoulders

Your hands go lower and lower until you shove your frozen fingers down his shirt

Rhys let out a small scream, “Why are your hands always freezing!?” You let out a giggle as you rub them against his chest trying to soak up his warmth

He pulls your hands out from his shirt, leading you to sit on his lap

Your shivering at this point from the loss of heat which does not go unnoticed by your mate

“My darling, you’re freezing come here.” You sit on his lap as Rhys pulls you into his chest. “A little.”

Rhys scoffs lifting you up going to sit by the fire. “Warm yet my love?” You pretend to think for a moment before shaking your head. “Nope. I think we should go to bed and snuggle.” Rhys lets out a laugh kissing your forehead. “That sounds like a great idea darling.”

Cassian

Cass is just minding is business making a snack in the kitchen when you sneak up behind him

You plaster your hands on the back of his neck and he drops what’s in his hands letting out a shocked sound

Cassian pulled away and turned to look at your silly smile

“Why!? And why are you always so gods damned cold?” You let out a loud laugh and move to shove your hands up his shirt

You hug him and keep your hands against his warm skin. Cassian hugs you, rubbing your back to warm you up. “Why don’t we go snuggle on the couch, I’ll make hot cocoa too.”

You let out a hum, “that sounds perfect.” Cass shoos you away so he can make your drinks and snack

Azriel

Az would know when you're sneaking up on him thanks to his shadows

He lets you get close but at the last second Azriel spins around and grabs your wrists. You let out a squeal of surprise as your mate pulls you into his chest

"You will not get me with those icicles you call hands again." He says laughing with you as you try to break free from Az's grip

"But Azzy! I'm cold and need you to warm me up." You give him a fake pout while trying to hold back your laughter

Az lets out an exaggerated sigh, "Fine. I guess we should go upstairs and get you bundled up." "Can I have your hoodie that I love?" "Of course you can." He says placing a soft kiss on your head

Lucien

Lu is so unbothered by your cold hands so he always lets you grab at him

He just raises his body temp more making it so you're suuper warm

He hates that you get so cold. While you make jokes about it he is genuinely concered becuase no one should be that cold all the time

When you do come up to him Lucien insists you snuggle on the couch

You lay on top of him and Lucien wraps you up in a blanet, using his powers to become your personal heater

Usually you end up falling asleep perfectly toasty

Eris

Eris just lets you put your hands up his shirt and your hands wander all over his torso

He just looks down at you with a fake annoyed look

You smile at him knowing that he's worried about you and your cold hands

He carefully removes your hands bringing them up to his mouth leaving soft kisses across the back of your hands

"Here my love." Eris whispered, encasing your hands in his, warming them with his powers

You lean into Eris to absorb more warmth

The lordling kisses the crown of your head lightly whsipering sweet nothings

[sleepyjuice]

jj x his big mouth girlfriend 🤭 like when kie confronted ward outside the court

I loved this so much this was such a cute little ask… also sorry for taking so long to respond to this, I’ve been crazy busy with work <3

“No, what’d you say? Don’t get all shy now, what the fuck did you say?!” You shot up from your spot on the sand, nearly knocking over the little picnic you and jj had set up.

A peaceful evening on the beach with your boyfriend was apparently too much to ask for, because not even ten minutes into your impromptu picnic, a couple had walked by where the two of you were sat and felt the need to snicker at the two of you, the girl mumbling something about you and jj ‘living above your means, huh?’ to her boyfriend, both of them laughing as they passed you two.

jj had gotten a pretty hefty check from work this week. Your one year anniversary was also coming up so he wanted to do something nice for the two of you, which is why he had surprised you with a nice beach picnic, takeout from a steakhouse he once worked at and splurged on a nice bottle of wine that you had only tried once when you babysat for a kook family, but you had loved it and assumed you would never have it again due to how pricey it was. You were very grateful for his efforts and admired how thoughtful and sweet he was for this.

jj stood up immediately after you did, standing protectively behind you as you yelled at the girl. Her boyfriend urged her to keep walking away, but she pulled away from him and approached you, the two of you now face to face.

“It’s just funny seeing you guys spending your rent on a date night.” The girl snickered, and you wasted no time lunging at her, but you were stopped by two strong hands pulling at your waist.

“Nope, nope, we’re not doing this. Let it go, baby, it’s okay.” jj spoke into your ear, your breathing heavy as you allowed him to hold you in place. You had a short fuse when it came to things like this. Not only did the overall classism piss you off, but the fact that someone was mocking the special night jj had set up… that had you seeing red. But you didn’t want to completely ruin the night by getting into a fight.

“That’s right Maybank, keep your bitch under control!” The girl’s boyfriend scoffed from behind her, and that was all it took for jj to lunge at him, wasting absolutely no time before tackling him to the ground.

“What the fuck?! You’re both fucking crazy! You gonna stop your boyfriend?” The girl screamed, causing you to laugh humorously as you shoved her harshly.

“Yeah, don’t fucking go there.” You spat, ready to defend you and yours.

Perhaps you and jj were a little tiny bit crazy… but that’s part of what made you the perfect match. When it was all said and done, you would both defend each other with all you had.

You would finish up at the beach, knuckles both a little bloody and bruised, hair disheveled and a little bit wine drunk as you made your way back home, jj’s hands grabbing all over your waist and your ass as you both giggled loudly.

“That was so fucking hot.” He’d tell you once you arrived home, picking you up with his arms holding just below your ass as he rushed you into the bedroom.

[moonlitdesertdreams]

Mine (All Mine)

Request: None A/N: Please enjoy some short smut and possessive!cooper. Nothing important otherwise :) Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence, attempted SA, P in V sex, Cooper licking blood, 18+ MINORS DNI! Summary: Cooper doesn't share what's his, and he sure as hell doesn't let anyone take it by force.

Word Count: 2.4k+

(Gif Credit to @victoryrifle)

“Keep walkin’!” 

You stumble over the rusty leg irons binding your feet. The slave trader yapping in your ear proceeds to shove you once again, but you bite your tongue. 

Nothing could ever just go according to plan. 

Running low on both Vials and sustenance, you’d led a hacking Cooper into the nearest town. It was desolate, but what town wasn’t in this age? You weren’t planning on staying long anyway; you just needed to get Cooper somewhere relatively safe and barter with whoever happened to be running the pharmacy that day.

Too bad the entire town was run by Slavers, up to and including the old Mister Handy running its dingy medical outpost. You were sedated and down before the inkling to fight ever came along, left to wake up in a wood cage with your hands and feet bound. 

You went hoarse from screaming pointlessly at your captors. Your wooden prison was sat carelessly in the open, unbearable heat beating down. The whipping wind ensured that sand found its way into every crevice. There was no doubt your skin was scorched from the sun.

And they left you there, until the sun set and you could hear the roar of a raucous crowd from the town center. 

Cooper was back there somewhere, probably having hacked up a lung in the empty shell of a house you’d broken into on the outskirts of town. You were careful to board the door back up when you left, and hoped no one had retraced your steps. 

“I said move! You fuckin’ deaf?” A Slaver grabs you painfully by the ear and yanks. “Bein’ deaf drops your price.”

The other women you’re chained to - in a single file line behind you with very little slack on the chains - cower in fear. You glare at the man and decide headbutting him is the best course of action, knocking your skull into the soft part of his nose. 

“Wish I was so I didn’t have to hear you run your mouth.”

The Slaver cracks his most-likely broken nose back into place and smirks. “Maybe I’ll buy you myself. Teach you a damn lesson.”

He turns away then, letting the rest of the guards lead you down a narrow alley between two buildings. Creaky wooden stairs greet you, and you step up them without hesitation. If nothing else, you’d give the Slavers no sense of satisfaction by putting fear on display. 

The town square has been converted into a makeshift stage and audience area, where tens of people sit, stand and holler as you’re all led on stage. They all hold small signs with numbers, and it doesn’t take you long to realize it’s an auction. 

They start with the woman farthest to your left, yelling out how many caps they deemed her worthy of. It continues down the row until the auctioneer, who you realize had four eyes total on his face, stops in front of you. 

“Mint condition, this one is.” He yells into the crowd and slaps a firm hand onto your shoulder. “How many caps for her?”

You try to keep up with the people throwing numbers out, but there’s too many faces and not enough ambient light to see them all. Eventually the auctioneer moves away, and you’re left to stand there. The other women are given the same treatment, until each of them is labeled with a price and effectively sold to the highest bidder. 

The auctioneer makes an announcement about cap exchange as the crowd is dissipating, but you’re still bound in chains. Your eyes dart around, looking for any unbecoming figures that come towards you. Men meet with the auctioneer one by one, and are slowly allowed to leave with their prizes. The women are a mix of cryers and defiers, some simply accepting their fate with tears in their eyes while others scream and thrash as they’re dragged off. 

You look to the auctioneer when it’s only you left, trying to figure out what was going on. One slaver makes his way to you, grabbing at the iron cuffs  to unlock them. 

“Nah, man. Leave her cuffed.”

The slaver in front of you grins at the one who’d spoken. Coincidentally, the same whose nose you’d broken minutes ago. He steps into your field of view, and you realize he wasn’t bluffing when he said he’d buy you. Ice-cold terror flows through your veins at the helplessness of being cuffed, but you refuse to show it.

“Nasty, huh? Just how I like 'em’.”

Broken Nose grabs you by the collar and yanks you close enough that you can smell the teeth rotting out of his mouth. “Oh, I’m gonna like it. That’s for sure.”

In what is probably a poor choice, you spit in his face. Just like the headbut, it was impulsive and split-second. You don’t regret it, but you realize it’s not a great idea. Regardless, you weren’t about to go down without a fight. 

Unfortunately for you, now he’s not worried about damaging goods before a sale. The slaver backhands you, and the force sends you tumbling to the ground. You’re struggling to your hands and knees, tangled in ridiculously long chains and fumbling with your cuffs. Broken Nose kneels in front of you and grabs you by the neck. 

“Need a lesson in manners, huh?” He growls. 

You take your first good look at him. He’s probably ten years older than yourself, with yellowing teeth and greasy black hair that hangs in a stringy manner around his face. The bridge of his nose is bruised, yellow and purple all over. Dried blood is still caked around his mouth. 

“Fuck you.” 

He finally snaps, and grabs a hold of the chains. You’re dragged off the stage and pushed into the darkness of the alleyway. One fist latches into your hair, and the other replaces itself around your throat. 

“We’ll start here.” He shakes you, bringing your face within centimeters of his. “When I say something, you fuckin’ listen!” 

You’re on the ground before you know it, and large hands grab at the old leather belt around your waist. You kick and thrash to the best of your ability while bound, screaming like a banshee. The slaver manages to pin you down and crawl over top, one hand fumbling with the zipper of his pants while the other holds your cuffed wrists down. The sound of belts jangling encourages you to fight more, and you thrash upwards. He might be bigger than you, but he’s a sloppy fighter and lets one of your wrists slip free. 

Without hesitation, you swing the iron cuff and chain as hard as you can into his face. 

“Agh! You’re a dead bitch, you know that?” He stumbles to the side, leaning against a building for support and clutching his now-bleeding forehead. His pants hang loose, dirty boxers on display.

You’re on your back, covered in both your blood and his. Your chest heaves, and you stare down your would-be assaulter. 

“Y’know, I missed that last exchange.” A familiar drawl echoes from the back of the alley. “You mind repeatin’ it, boy?”

The Slaver snorts. “You want some? Go ahead and try. She’d be better off in the fuckin’ ground.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’d have to try.” Spurs clank down the empty alleyway from behind you, “Somethin’ tells me she’d come willingly.”

The Ghoul stands firm in his place, hand hovering over his gun like an old western standoff. Your head drops to the ground in relief. The slaver, though, looks more and more irritated by the moment. He glares at the Ghoul who’s now only a few feet behind you.

“Fuckin’ ghoul.” Broken Nose growls, and pulls a pistol. “Why don’t you get lost?”

Cooper takes a few more steps forward, sidestepping your body. The Slaver keeps the gun level with him. “‘Fraid I can’t do that.”

“Oh yeah?” The slaver gestures wildly with his pistol. “Why’s that?”

The Ghoul darts forward like a puma, ducking the shot that’s fired at him. You see a knife glint in the dim light, and hear it cut through flesh. 

“‘Cause nobody touches what’s mine.”

A flash of heat shoots through you in spite of the circumstances. You watch Broken Nose fall to the ground, barely alive as blood gushes from a gash across his neck. Cooper’s knife drops from his hand, falling to blood-stained dirt. He turns to you slowly. 

“You alright?”

He’s covered in blood, obviously pissed off, and has never been more attractive. 

“Fantastic.” You breathe. The fiery determination and blatant possessiveness on display by the Ghoul shoot bolts of want straight to your cunt. 

The Ghoul steps over Broken Nose’s legs to get to you. His eyes are dark, but do a once over to check you for injuries. 

“He touch you?” Cooper’s drawl is thick. So much so that it almost twists his words into a snarl. 

You push yourself to sit up. “Not anywhere delicate.”

Cooper hums and uses your chains to pull you up. Your legs are sore from kicking, and arms raw from the cuffs. “Whatta ‘bout this?”

You look down as he reaches to you and fiddles with the unfastened belt. His hands linger at the button of your jeans, tugging at the fabric. 

“Oh, he tried.” You shiver as Cooper’s fingers  dance over the skin of your stomach. “But I wouldn’t let him.”

His leather gloves fist into your shirt and yank you close. You trip over the chains and fall into his chest. 

“Damn right.” His breath washes over your ear. “Nobody touches you like that but me.”

You’d be lying if you said wetness didn’t gather between your legs faster than a speeding bullet. Cooper’s eyes jotted town towards your dangling belt once more before he used your bounds to spin you back against the wall. One of his knees jammed between your thighs, and his hands landed heavily on either side of your head. 

You wet your lips as he hovers mere centimeters away. The Ghoul’s eyes are transfixed on your chest and stomach, where your white tank top is bared and covered in red stains. He lowers a hand to brush up your stomach, between your breasts and through rivulets of crimson. It’s immediately stuck into his mouth, and you moan shakily as his tongue darts out to taste your attacker’s blood. 

Cooper turns his head and spits. “Slavers always taste foul.” 

You readjust yourself on his knee to send pleasant waves of heat to your core. “Cooper Howard?”

He looks down at you, hat brim drawn low on his brow and desire burning bright in his eyes. There’s a bulge visible just below his belt that makes you salivate. 

“What could you possibly want, darlin’?” His marred face leans in close, lips brushing your ears. Teeth nip at your earlobe, “Couldn’t be to fuck right here in the open where you was attacked by some other fella, now is it?”

Now, you know that sentence should give you pause. 

However, this world is fucked beyond belief. 

You whimper out your answer, and the Ghoul continues his steady ministrations down your neck and in that sensitive spot behind your ear. With your hands bound, you can’t do much more than tangle your fingers in his shirt and hold. 

When he resurfaces, your neck is wet with saliva and sweat.

“I’ll take care of you, babydoll.” He purrs. “Right here, right now. You just gotta do one thing for me.”

You fist your hand in his shirt, but are surprised to find the cuffs slipping away after he fumbles with them for a moment. A quick glance shows him pocketing a key, but you’re too worked up to focus on one thing for too long. 

“What do I gotta do?”

You really don’t mean to sound so desperate, but something about Cooper always has you heated and dripping as soon as he initiates anything intimate. 

“Just tell me.” He grunts as you tug at his belt with newly freed hands. “Who do you belong to?”

Oh, you’re fucked.

“You. Fuck, I belong to you.” You gasp as you free him from his pants. “I want you to use me to get off.”

A scarred hand wraps tight around your neck and forces your head upwards. “Damn straight.”

It takes no time to yank your pants low enough for him to enter you. You’ve flipped so your front side is pinned to the building, legs spread. Cooper takes long, slow thrusts at first before picking up the pace. Large, strong hands hold your hips steady. You brace yourself with your hands, moaning in time with his thrusts. He’s stable throughout, only growling pet names into your ear when you let out a whine. The Ghoul begins to stagger when he’s close, and it’s not long before you feel his release coating your walls and dripping out onto the dirt. 

You don’t realize how unstable and sore your legs are until he’s sliding out of you, filthy noises following. His cock pulses against your swollen slit before you fully collapse. 

“Easy now.” Cooper catches you, one hand attempting to fasten himself back into his jeans, “Seems that we gotta go back to camp, huh?”

Your mind is alight with want for him, and you whine in his absence. “Coop, please.”

“Oh no need to beg, sugar.” He fixes your pants as well, “I plan on taking good care of you when we get there.”

Back at camp, he fulfills his promise and more. 

You beg and plead for your release, and it’s granted with enthusiasm. 

And after it’s done, you both ache for sleep, to rest sore muscles and heal new bruises. Some from fights, and others from passion. A blanket of stars coerces you to shut your eyes, and you’re helpless to resist. This night could have ended much differently - namely, with a bullet in your head- so you think about how grateful you are to have the legendary Ghoul at your side, protecting you on your shared journey for the truth. Willing to fight through his own suffering and dependencies to keep you safe in spite of his rocky exterior. 

You like to think he’s a big teddy bear, but you didn’t dare put it out into the world while in his vicinity.

The thoughts are fleeting, and you fall into oblivion while tucked into the side of vengeance itself. It’s a place many others, even in this hellscape of a Wasteland, wouldn’t dare to get near. 

The big, bad Ghoul.

And he’s all mine.

thanks for reading, much love ❤

Read More: Fallout Masterlist

[bi-writes]

ex-tf141!mercenary!fem!reader x ex-husband!simon because there's nothing hotter than being covered in blood and debating whether or not to kill him or fuck him (18+) ⚠️🔞

cw: reader is curvy (deal with it), mature language and content, suggestive language and content, dramatization + graphic depictions of murder + violence, criticizes military service, blood kink, size kink (simon's huge ok), pet names (luv, sweetheart, baby, honey), mw3 spoilers, reader is unhinged and unapologetic about it, dark content ahead, unprotected piv, cumplay, (can this also be considered a throuple fic? maybe...)

this isn't her. he doesn't recognize her. she doesn't fight the way he remembers, she doesn't look like she used to.

she wears all black. the black cargo pants are tight around her perfect thighs, and the way they cinch around her waist makes his mouth water. her vest covers her torso, but he has vivid memories of ripping an identical one off of her, ripping the fabric of her shirt so he could bury his mouth between her tits.

when she used to be his. when she used to be a good girl.

he watches, frozen, as she shows off her newfound ruthlessness. she fires her weapon at one man's knees, bringing him to the ground. he feels sick when she kicks him onto his back, getting on top of him, and uses her tactical knife and shoves it into the softness of his neck. she leans over him, splatters of blood freckled across her face, and she watches the life leave his eyes.

she doesn't get up until he stops twitching.

he doesn't remember this. when she used to watch his six, he remembers having to hold her close at night, quieting her cries. he remembers the conversations they used to have, where she used to tell him that whenever she closes her eyes, she sees every person she ever killed.

the justification of murder behind the patches she wore on her vest had never been enough to quiet her nightmares. she was always so soft-hearted. she was always too good, too considerate, too kind. it was something her superiors always wanted to rip away from her; it was something simon fought hard to keep.

he had lost his humanity, but she had not, and he remembers smoothing his hand over her chest and across her heart, telling himself that he would never let it go, never let her lose it.

it is gone. he knows it--he knows it because she doesn't just kill her opponents, she tortures them. she aims for vulnerable places, and then she kills them angrily. she likes to hear them scream. she watches them cry. she wipes the blood of her enemies on her thigh, and then she gets up and does it all over again, in different ways, in heinous ways. she's terrifying, and she's laughing, and there is nothing behind those fucking eyes.

he holds her in his sight. he adjusts the scope, gripping the rifle tighter, and suddenly it feels too heavy in his hands. he can see her in it, and he watches in horror.

he knows his orders. permission to kill on sight, those are his orders--mercenaries had gotten the same intel as them, but they are not here to destroy the biochemical weapons. they are here to steal them.

he can kill her right now. he has her, right where he wants her, and even from this far away, he knows he won't miss.

when she's finally alone, she stands, and she looks up, turning in a slow circle. his heart squeezes--she knows he's here. she holds up a hand, four fingers held up. he reaches up to his radio and turns the knob to the right channel. it crackles, and then he hears her voice.

"hey, baby," you coo, and he sees you smile, and it's ugly, and he hates it. "you miss me that much that you gotta follow me around at work?"

"'f y'know wot's good for you, you'll pack up your shit and leave."

you tsk, spinning the knife around in your hand before sticking it back into your boot. you wipe the sweat from your forehead, and blood smears along your brow.

"awww, teddy bear, don't be that way," you pout. "how about you come down here?" you grin wide, turning just his way, giggling when you see him perched for overwatch. "hmm? you're just cranky, baby...need me to help you relax..."

"you're right fuckin' mad," he spits, and you reach down at the man beneath you, snatching his rifle off his back and making sure it's loaded. "and i'm gonna fuckin' kill you."

you wink up at him.

"yeah? so take the shot, honey," you challenge. the smirk that blooms on your face infuriates him. he hates you. but then you turn around and keep walking, knowing that he won't shoot, and his gaze follows the sway of your hips. instead of thinking about your brains splattered against gravel, he thinks about when he used to bend you over his bed in the barracks and eat your pussy from behind you--when he used to get on his knees and fuck you with his tongue and make you cum into his mouth.

when you disappear from his view, you laugh over comms. "you're pathetic, simon," your murmur. "could never trust you to get the fucking job done."

he remembers when you left. johnny had left a scar on you--an angry one, one that refused to heal. and while simon was equally as buried in his grief, he always felt just a little better when he was kissing you, holding you, feeling the warmth of you, knowing you were alive.

"you didn't love him. not like i did--" you snap, continuing to pack.

"are you fuckin' mad?! do y'hear yourself talk?! wot the fuck do you know about me and johnny?!"

"then how are you not angry?!" you scream. "how are still standing there, so fucking normal, how are you so fucking calm?!"

"sweetheart--"

"don't fucking touch me," you bite. "you don't get it--" angry tears flow easily down your face. "--you didn't love him the same."

"i did--" he grips your face, making you look at him. "i loved him like i love you, don't say that. don't fucking say that, don't you dare pretend you're the only one that feels anything--"

you rip his hands off of you, narrowing your eyes, and he does not recognize you. this is not you.

"y-you're a liar," you whisper. "you're a fucking liar. and you make me sick."

ghost steps over the bodies that you left behind. it is a massacre of men that you leave at your feet. slit throats, bullets in knees, in stomachs, little finishers you leave between their legs. you are not a fan of men--he knows this because of how hard it had been to get close to you. how difficult it had been to even so much as touch your arm, your face--to get you into his bed, to marry you in secret and fuck you spineless. the only easy thing that had ever happened to you was the way johnny fell right into step with you.

and the hardest thing that he had ever done was fucking die.

when he finds the trunk of biochemical vials, you are not there. he has found it first, and he bends down to inspect them, closing the lid and securing them inside before moving his hand up to press on the button of his comms to alert his team.

"uh uh uh," a low voice warns. "take your hand off the radio, sweetheart."

he moves, but the bloodied tip of a tactical knife is sharp against his throat, and he swallows hard. he calls your name, and you just giggle. this is a game to you. he lowers his hand, and you reach down, grabbing his rifle and tossing it. you also unholstered his handgun and the throwing knives from his boot, throwing them behind you.

"mmm..." you smooth a hand down his back. "you're as hot as the day i met you, baby..."

ghost grunts as you grip one side of his ass, and you grip his shoulder tight, kicking him just right so he was kneeling on both knees now. you lean over him and plant a warm, wet kiss to the jaw of his mask, moving so you were standing in front of him now. you kick the trunk of vials to the side, looking down at him, digging the sharp edge of the blade harder against his neck.

"look at you..." you hum, licking your bottom lip. "you're still so big, teddy bear..." he hisses when you lean over, cupping him through his pants. your warm hand squeeze the length of him, and you whine when you feel how hard he is, how much he still feels for you. he glares at you under that plastic, terrifying mask, but your panties are soaking. "so fucking hard for me, too...you miss me, baby?"

he leans over, into the blade, growling.

"'f you leave now, you can still take your life with ya."

you pucker your lips, and he snarls. your face is not one he knows--you have drying blood along your cheeks, smears of it along the softness of your neck. you have blood and dirt under your fingernails, and there is fire in your eyes, and you are not the good girl he fell in love with, but you look like her, and it scares him.

"awww, baby, if i thought you would kill me, you would be dead--" you lean forward and lick along his hard jaw, tasting the salt and sweat of his mask. "...right along your other boys. don't lie to me. it's not a good look for you."

he bites, and you laugh, and then you nod your head.

"sit down," you demand, and he sits. he is big, and his gear is heavy, and he sits with a grunt, and you climb over him, into his lap. you reach down, your eyes on his, and you unzip his cargo pants, your hand slipping under and pulling his cock out, and you smile when it stands hard and heavy. "oh, baby...you want this, don't you?"

you lean in, kissing him through the mask, sucking along the fabric and whining.

"you want this, don't you? you still want me? you still love me?"

"fuckin' hell--"

"you wanna fuck me, teddy bear?" you spit into the palm of your hand, reaching down and smoothing your wet hand over the red tip of him. "you're so big...as big as i remember..." you whimper. "say you wanna fuck me, simon--" fuck, you're using his name, "--say you want me."

against your lips, you feel him whisper yes--fuck--yes, luv--and you can't help it. you can't help yourself.

he's so warm and big. you hold onto his shoulders, still gripping the bloody knife, and you sink down on him. it's easy though, because you're soaking, and even though you're so fucking tight, you suck him in, right until your clit is grinding against the little hairs at the base of his cock and you're bouncing in his lap.

simon is weak. he's weak, and he knows it, because he loves you, and your pussy is so tight, and your moans are music, and fucking you is the only thing he truly understands, the only thing that still makes sense.

you smooth your hands along the back of his neck, and when you whimper and moan, simon thinks he sees you. his good girl, his pretty little wife, the soft girl that he loves, the one crying as she rides his cock because he's hitting all the gooey, pretty places inside of her that make her so fucking wet. he grips your ass tight, guiding you up and down, fucking up into you as he feels his stomach turn and his balls tighten.

"simon--" you cry, and he nods his head, cradling you to his chest, his head tilted back as he looks up at you. there is blood on your skin and a knife digging into his back, but you're saying his name, and his heart aches, and your pussy is so good-- "gonna come--gonna come--"

"yeah--" he growls, and you push up his mask, lick into his mouth, kiss him sloppy and hard and desperate. "fuck--fuck, yeah--"

he takes off his glove to touch you, two big fingers on your clit as you fuck him desperately. when you come, you soak his cock, and when you tighten, he comes, too, rolling his hips as he spills out of your tight hole and onto your thighs, onto his.

it feels so good. it feels so good to be full of him, to feel him deep, and you smooth your hands down your stomach, feeling him there, stretching you so wide with his come on your thighs, and when he pulls out, you giggle when he gathers the slick onto his fingers and feeds it to you.

you suck his fingers, tasting him, and you whine, looking right into his dark eyes. your heart hurts for a moment--but only a moment. when he pulls his fingers from your mouth, your eyes flicker.

because he still wears his fucking wedding ring.

at the sight of it, you grip your knife tight, and you sink it right into his stomach.

he is laying there in a pool of blood when you're dressed, when the trunk of vials is secure for you to take. you lean over him, pressing on the button of his radio, and you call for medevac to his team, and then you rip the radio in two.

you cup his cheeks, kissing him softly over the mask, and you smooth a finger down his cheek.

"don't pull the knife out, baby, or you'll bleed out," you coo. you tilt your head to the side, knowing you only have a few second window to leave, and you smile down at him.

"until next time, simon."

when you go, you take a piece of him with you.

and fuck--fuck you. because he wants it back.

[harryslittlefreakk]

after the storm

summary: y/n wakes up in her sworn enemies bed, with a city-wide storm keeping her trapped there. in the time that she’s stuck with harry, can they overcome their differences and build a friendship? 🫢🤷

warnings: smut (oral f receiving, unprotected unrealistic shower sex) some angst, typical enemies to lovers

wordcount: 6.6k

a/n: you guys who likes my lil graphic? its diy!! i’ve been slowly working on story for a long time now so i hope you all enjoy! 🤭

my masterlist is here 💓 love u all

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The headache pounding behind your eyes was the first thing you noticed that morning. Shortly followed by the realisation that you weren’t in your pyjamas, or your bed, and there was a man snoring next to you.

You didn’t even remember coming home with anyone, let alone someone who looked so attractive, albeit from the view you had of the back of his head. There was something familiar about the bedroom, though you couldn’t put your finger on what. The clothes folded on the dresser were the same as every other man’s, the lingering scent of woody aftershave new and yet so familiar. Perhaps it was the memory of whoever you’d met last night, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you knew this man.

You needed to explore, the leftover alcohol in your system urging you to get out of bed and figure out whose bed you’d woken up in.

It didn’t take much detective work, however, because as soon as you sat down on the toilet, the man in question barged into the bathroom. “Oh, morning.”

No way. No fucking way. “What are you doing here?”

“This is where I live.”

“Why am I here?”

“Why do you think?” he smirked.

Harry fucking Styles. Your sworn enemy, the worst man you’d ever met, the worst man you would ever meet. And you were wearing his clothes, after sleeping in his bed. Your skin itched just thinking about it.

“Fuck off,” you growled, throwing the toilet paper at his stupid, sleep-clouded face.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he laughed, staring down between your legs as he closed the bathroom door. All you could do was let out a hoarse scream. How had an innocent Friday night turned into this?

You looked yourself over in the mirror when you were done, Harry’s t-shirt hanging loose on your body. You kicked the door open, glaring at his reflection as you splashed water over your face. “How do I get to the station?”

He shoved his phone in front of you, a severe weather warning flashing up on the screen. Public transport was down, taxis and delivery drivers ground to a halt as the rain and hail pounded the pavements.

“Brilliant. I’ll walk then,” you sneered, barging past him. “Just wait it out,” Harry told you, running a hand through his hair.

“No, I can walk.” What did he not understand about this being the last place you’d ever choose to be?

“You can’t.”

“Watch me.”

Realistically, you knew you couldn’t make the 45 minute walk across town in this weather. You hadn’t even taken a coat out with you, and borrowing clothes off Harry just meant you’d either have to see him again, or hang on to his clothing. Neither was appealing to you at all at this moment in time. Still, you were prepared to risk hypothermia if it meant getting away. The idea of being trapped with anyone while deathly hungover was horrible, but with Harry it became your own personal hell.

He followed you to his bedroom, watching from the doorway as you shoved your belongings back into your tiny shoulder bag. “My fucking phones dead,” you groaned, throwing your head back.

“Just wait until the rain eases off. I’ll drive you to the station later.”

“I don’t want to be here, Harry. What do you not understand about that?” Just the way he was watching you was making your blood boil. You weren’t even an angry or spiteful person, but somehow Harry triggered some red hot rage that usually lay dormant deep inside of you.

He was opening and closing his mouth, scarily similar to a fish. One of the deep sea weirdo ones, with extra fins and holes for eyes. His eyebrows knitted together as he searched desperately inside his dim brain for something to say.

“We didn’t sleep together,” he mumbled.

“What?”

“We didn’t sleep together,” he repeated.

You froze, not quite sure how to respond. You hadn’t slept together. Half of you wanted to thank every God in existence, the other half wanted to punch Harry right in his smug face. “Then why the hell did you make me think we did?!”

He shrugged, tiny hints of regret showing on his face. If you were less pissed off right now, you’d consider this a miracle. “Was funny five minutes ago.”

You glared at him, incredulous. “You swear we didn’t?”

“Promise. Look, jus’ let me shower and then I’ll stay in here out of your way. Don’t even have to talk to me for the rest of the day.”

Finally, you nodded, resigned to your fate. “Fine.”

“There’s a charger next to the sofa,” he told you, slipping past you to grab some clean clothes from the dresser. “So you can tell your boyfriend you’re here.”

“Idiot,” you groaned as you walked away, slamming the door shut behind you.

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You hated to say it, but Harry’s apartment was actually nice. Much nicer than yours. You had no idea what he did for work, but it must have been something good if he could afford a place like this. There was a skylight over the sofa, practically putting you in a trance as you watched the rain drumming against the glass.

You’d been flopped on the beige sofa for what felt like years, your hangover slowly easing off but your current situation not getting any easier. Why, out of all the places you could’ve been stranded, did you end up here? You’d been racking your brains for hours, and as far as you could remember, Harry wasn’t even at the bar. If he had been, he would’ve come over. He’d stopped hanging around your group so much once you’d started bickering, he was irritatingly respectful of your space. But whenever you saw each other, neither of you could resist the temptation of a little sparring match to spice up the night.

You were so deep in thought that you hadn’t even noticed the lights turn off, the tv suddenly flicking to a black screen. It was the deep rumble of thunder that bought you crashing down to Earth, a tiny whimper slipping out when you heard it. Rain and hail were little more than an inconvenience, but you drew the line at a thunderstorm. You’d loved them when you were younger, glued to the windows with your dad as you watched the lightning illuminate the sky. But something changed one day, a new fear set in after a nightmare. You were sitting on top of a hill, a picnic laid out in front of you, when the clouds suddenly turned bright orange and lightning started striking the houses below you. You’d watched in horror as every strike set fire to the roofs, the entire neighbourhood going up in flames and getting closer and closer to you. Then you woke up in a cold sweat as the lightning came nearer, the next strike sure to take you out had you not bolted upright in bed.

“Harry,” you called out as loud as you could manage. You might not like him, but you’d rather have his company than sit through a thunderstorm alone.

When he trudged into the room, you were sitting upright on the sofa, the blanket pulled over your head. “What are y’doing?” he asked, yanking the blanket off of you. “Don’t like thunder,” you told him, squeezing your eyes shut as it boomed overhead again.

“Did the power go out?”

You nodded, watching from squinted eyes as Harry searched across the kitchen counters for something. He walked back over to you with a lighter, and started to light the candles scattered across the room. “Wanna watch something?” he asked you, pointing to his collection of dvds. “You pick,” you told him, too terrified to even comment on why he still owned dvds in 2024. You’d have to save that for later.

He picked one, pushing it into the tv’s dvd player before coming to sit beside you and setting it up. You glanced over at him, your current proximity making your heart race more than the thunder and lightning could ever. You had some sort of problem when it came to men acting as saviours. You were too into rom-coms, too romantic to not develop a sudden and unexplainable mini crush on your knight in shining armour. And clearly, now you had gone a little bit mental.

A clap of thunder shook the room again, and you smacked a hand down on Harry’s arm, your nails digging into the skin. “Harry,” you whimpered. He put his hand on top of yours, grounding you slightly. “It’s okay,” he smiled. “Did no one ever tell you it’s just God rearranging the furniture?”

You loosened your grip as the thunder passed, desperately trying to get a hold of yourself. “No. And besides, that doesn’t help. A reason for the loud noise doesn’t make the loud noise any less scary,” you told him, brows knitted as you looked between your hand and his face. He was about to shoot something back, but lightning illuminated the room, your expression changing quickly back to one of fear.

Harry threw himself down on the sofa behind you, tugging at the hem of your (his) t-shirt. “Come here,” he beckoned, pressing play on whatever dvd he’d chosen. “Why?”

“Because it’ll take your mind off the storm.”

“No.” He was holding out his arms to you. Clearly he’d had a funny turn and was expecting you to snuggle with him. Sleeping in the same bed against your free will was one thing, but actually choosing to cuddle with Harry was something you’d have to bring up with your therapist later. And yet, the offer was somehow tempting. But you couldn’t control your face, and somewhat-accidentally sent Harry a scathing look.

“Fine. Enjoy the storm then,” he grumbled, standing up to stalk back to his room. You stayed silent as he left, waiting until his bedroom door slammed shut to throw the blanket back over your head.

Only, a few minutes later he was back. You could feel his stare burning through the blanket, and he was standing there like a giant dork when you peeked out. “What if I’m scared and I need a hug?”, he asked.

You couldn’t help but laugh. You couldn’t deny Harry was funny, even when you were bickering and snapping back and forth, he’d always make you laugh. And that was more infuriating, because why are you laughing at his jokes when you’re supposed to be annoyed? “Fine. But only because you’re scared.”

You leaned back into his arms, and he was right. It was a welcome distraction. Instead of thinking about the storm and anticipating the next rumble of thunder, you were actually quite content. Although one thing was playing on your mind. “Harry, why do you have the notebook on dvd?”

You craned your neck to look back at him, shifting slightly in his arms so you could see his face. “S’my favourite,” he shrugged sheepishly. “And what time will your boyfriend be home?,” you mumbled, recoiling when he jabbed a pointed finger at the tip of your nose. “Quiet please,” he told you. You turned your attention back to the tv, settling back into Harry’s body.

He was comfortable. That was one more thing to add to your list of irritatingly good qualities about him. He was a good cuddler, caring, funny.. it seemed like that list was growing longer with each minute you spent with him. You pulled his arm tighter around you as thunder crashed overhead, softer this time. “Getting further away now,” Harry whispered, his thumb stroking the fabric of your shirt as if you’d laid this way a thousand times before.

Your eyes were growing heavy, your heart beating in time with each gentle movement of Harry’s thumb. You were too warm, too comfy.

And then a loud vibration practically shook the sofa under you. “Fuck. Sorry,” Harry said, darting to shut off his phone. You rubbed your eyes, still groggy and disorientated. Naps always made you feel all weird and out of sync. You turned around slowly to lay on your back, glancing up at Harry in your peripheral vision. “Missed the whole movie,” he told you, eyebrows raised as he nodded toward the tv. The power was back on, the lights bright against the layer of fog clouding your eyes. “Gonna call them back,” Harry murmured, holding up his phone as he climbed over you.

You were perched on the edge of the windowsill when Harry came back into the room, watching the raindrops drip down the glass. He went into his fancy little wine fridge, pulling out a bottle of red. He held it up to you, eyebrows raised as he silently asked if you wanted any. You nodded before turning your attention back to the rain. The thunderstorm had passed now, the skies finally beginning to lighten up despite the heavy rain. Harry came to join you with two big glasses, as if he’d poured as much wine as he could fit into them.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

Thinking back, you didn’t actually know where it all started. Harry was nice enough the first time you’d met, then somehow rude and arrogant the next. He was the cousin of one of your friends, and started to worm his way into your group when he moved to the area. He was harmless, but he knew he was a pretty boy. Every night out was spoiled by him lingering by the bar, flashing his dimpled grin at any girl who caught his eye. He’d buy her a drink, then leave hand in hand with her, always looking back to see if you’d noticed his exit. Everything he did made you roll your eyes, every glance at your legs when you wore a mini skirt, every time he tried to snake an arm around your shoulders as you laughed with the group.

“You’re arrogant.” Proven by the fact that only arrogant people would ask why they’re disliked.

“No one else has ever told me that.”

“Maybe they’re not as truthful as I am.”

He laughed at this, swilling the wine around his glass. You watched as it stained the sides red, the blood colour dimmed under the grey skies. “If I were that bad, y’wouldn’t be here.”

“I’m not here by choice.”

“No, I mean you wouldn’t have ended up here at all.”

“What do you mean?”

Harry’s eyes were squinted when he looked back at you, some kind of secrecy flashing across his pupils. “Let’s call a truce,” he told you, holding out his free hand for you to shake. “Just for however long this storm lasts, you have to play nice.”

“I am playing nice. You’re the one who played tricks on me.”

Harry sighed, running his hand through his hair when you didn’t reach out to take it. Your gaze was fixed on the window, seemingly uninterested in what Harry was trying to offer. Truthfully, a truce sounded nice to you. You were wasting so much energy on acting indifferent to him. But with the way he looked after you during the worst part of the storm, the way he held in the giggles you knew he wanted to let out as you cowered in fear of the thunder, you were scared you might actually end up liking him. The horror. The last thing you ever wanted to find out was that you’d wasted years hating him, mentally criticising his every move, just to find out he’s a good guy after all.

“Raindrop race,” he said suddenly.

“Hm?”

“We do a raindrop race,” his head nudged toward the window. “If I win, we call a truce. If you win, you decide if you want a truce or not.” Harry had his usual silly, toothy grin spreading across his cheeks. There was something annoyingly cute about his smile, the way his eyes crinkled and his dimples carved deep into the skin. “Fine,” you laughed.

“Okay, pick yours. This is mine,” he pointed to a tiny droplet near the top of the window. Your eyes gazed over the drops near Harry’s, before settling on one just to the right of his. After Harry yelled “go!”, you followed yours with a pointed finger, trailing down the surface of the window as you spurred your little raindrop on. You didn’t actually care who won, but you were far too competitive to let him win.

They were neck and neck, Harry’s tiny raindrop somehow collecting water from those around it to become almost the same size as yours, and surprisingly just as fast. There were little childlike giggles tumbling past his lips, his free hand balled into a fist as he cheered his raindrop on.

Yours took over suddenly, surging forward before it came to rest on the windowsill. You couldn’t hold in your laughter, watching Harry’s face fall in disbelief. “Looks like I get to decide our fate,” you teased, a smirk resting on your lips.

Harry chuckled, his eyes searching your face for any sign of what you might do. “Truce please,” he encouraged, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Fine. Since you asked so nicely,” you grinned, holding out a hand for him to shake. Harry took it, bowing his head to you before hopping off the windowsill and padding into the kitchen. “Last of our supplies,” he told you, holding up one final bottle of wine and a bag of crisps. “Best make it count then,” you laughed, downing the last sip left in your glass.

Harry went back to the sofa, and you trailed after him, plopping down on the corner. “Tell me something about you,” he said, throwing an arm over the back of the sofa. “I don’t know. You know me,” you shrugged, turning a little to face him. “Fine. What was your first impression of me?”

You shrugged again, gaze falling to the wine glass in your hands. “Thought you were funny. Seemed nice enough,” you told him. Harry laughed, a bitter kind of chuckle. “So where did it all go wrong?”

“Harry, even you have to admit that you were a douche.”

“How?”

“How?!” You couldn’t believe he was asking how. “You’d saunter around the bars, always scouting for which girl you’d take home next. You didn’t even greet me the next time you came out because you spotted a girl behind me.”

“Sounds like you’re jealous.”

You scoffed. “Not fucking jealous. It’s gross.”

He held up a hand, faux-stern expression on his face. “Truce! We have a truce. Don’t wanna break it already.” He had a point. You’d called a truce not even ten minutes ago, and you were already getting riled up again. “You started it,” you mumbled, always reduced to the mindset of a child when you bickered with Harry.

“Don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything,” he smirked, miming zipping his lips. You turned away from him, deciding it was better to sit in silence and try to calm down than risk getting into a full blown row with him when you couldn’t even leave.

After a while, Harry set his wine glass down on the coffee table, getting your attention. “You really don’t remember how you got here?” he asked.

“No, Harry.” Honestly, you didn’t. The last thing you could recall was stealing a cigarette from someone on the street outside the bar, and then a freaky flash forward to waking up next to Harry.

“I was walking past O’Connells and you were on the street alone. All your friends had left and you couldn’t get a taxi, they kept refusing you because you were drunk,” he started explaining, setting his near-empty wine glass down on the coffee table. You were finally paying full attention to him now, an ear turned towards the sound of his voice as if he was telling the most compelling story of all time. “I don’t know where you live, you kind of stopped making sense. So I brought you here,” he shrugged. “Sorry.”

You took a moment to fully digest his words, his kindness to you a tough pill to swallow. The tears that formed on your lower eyelashes were unstoppable, regret bubbling up through you. You’d been a dick the entire day, and while it was a little bit deserved after he made you think you’d slept with him, all he’d done since was show you kindness and care. “Don’t have to be sorry Harry. I’m sorry,” you whispered, pulling your glass up to try and hide the blush creeping up your cheeks. He placed a gentle hand on your knee, his touch warm on your bare legs. You hated wearing trousers indoors, a t-shirt, panties and socks the only way you were ever comfortable. Yet now you felt too exposed, too vulnerable in front of Harry. “It’s okay,” he told you, his tiny smile laced with tenderness. “Thank you,” you said, your voice soft and shaky. “For looking after me,” you finished, finally drawing your eyes up to meet Harry’s.

He moved a little closer, bringing his arms up to wrap you in a hug. Only as he started to embrace you, you felt something change in the air. The wine had made your brain fuzzy, your senses heightened and yet muddled. You were struck with an overwhelming desire to kiss Harry, to make it right between the two of you, and that’s what you did. You turned your head just a little, closing the distance between you tentatively, waiting to gage his reaction. But he pulled back quickly, his arms dropping limply into his lap.

“Oh God. I’m sorry,” you mumbled, scurrying across the room before you could do anything to embarrass yourself further. You leaned back against the breakfast bar, eyes fixed on the rain drumming against the window. All you could do was replay the way his lips peeled away from yours, the full body cringe making you want to curl up in a ball and scream.

You could feel Harry’s eyes on you, his gaze silently trailing across your body. You looked back at him, eyes meeting amongst the almost palpable energy clouding the air. And then he was striding over to you, wrapping a strong arm under your hips and lifting you onto the countertop. He paused for a minute, an unsatisfied yearning in his eyes. He reached out with a gentle hand, pushing some hairs from your face as the other snaked around your waist. And then his lips were on yours, slow at first as if trying to taste and explore you. But with every lick of his tongue the kiss deepened, his movements becoming more urgent and passionate. Harry’s hands were roaming across your body, trailing goosebumps over every curve. The heat was intoxicating, the burn almost physical as you wrapped an arm around Harry’s neck, drawing him closer to you.

Your legs were tight around his hips, pulling his centre close to your core. It was electric, so much being spoken through silent mouths. Every touch, every flick of his tongue had you melting into Harry, the walls you’d built up crashing down around you. “Should’ve done that a long time ago,” he drawled as he pulled away, running his thumb along your swollen, wine-stained bottom lip. You nodded in agreement, still dazed from the way he kissed.

He grabbed a hold of the hem of your t-shirt, eyes locked on yours as he waited for you to tell him to stop. When nothing came, he pulled it off of you, throwing it to the floor behind him. You watched the way his eyes darkened as they trailed over you, the goosebumps that dotted your skin disappearing under the heat of his gaze. “Want to know why I act that way with you?” Harry asked, still surveying the sight before him. He rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger when you didn’t respond, his free hand pulling your chin upwards to look him in the eye. You nodded again, totally silenced by the way he was looking at you. His lips found your collarbone, kissing and suckling at the skin. “Because,” he murmured against you, pausing to lick a warm circle around your nipple.

“I,” he suckled at the bud, teeth grazing your sensitive skin.

“Wanted,” he was moving lower now, one hand caressing your other breast as he licked down your ribcage.

“You.” He sunk down in front of you, mouth lingering right at the waistband of your panties, eyes fixed on yours. Your chest was heaving as he bought a hand up to it and pushed you back, the marble countertop cold against your skin.

You closed your eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of Harry’s gaze. His fingers traced slow circles on your stomach, igniting a heat inside of you that melted away any other feeling. You were totally powerless, totally at his mercy as he peeled off your panties, eyes never leaving your face.

“Couldn’t handle this sweet pussy not being mine,” Harry told you, voice husky as he ran a light finger through your glistening folds. His hot breath against your entrance had you squirming, his lips so close and yet not close enough. He was admiring you, almost salivating - until you suddenly snapped your legs shut. “I haven’t showered,” you whispered, suddenly hyper aware of how unclean you felt. “Don’t care,” Harry said, pushing a hand between your knees to open you up for him again. “Just means you’ll taste sweeter f’me,” he groaned, finally making contact with your pussy.

His thumb brushed over your clit, replaced instantly by his mouth. He suckled at it, the sudden sensation drawing an almost carnal moan out of you.

His tongue swirled around your entrance, collecting your juices on his tongue as he moaned into you. Your hands tangled themselves in his curls, the burn of your fingernails digging into his scalp only spurring him on. True to his word, he was licking and lapping at your folds as if they held the sweetest nectar.

You were dripping for him, dripping on him, the lower half of his face coated in your juices. It was the wine, you told yourself, and the forced closeness to him. Not him, not the fact that he was giving you the best head of your life.

“Waited so fucking long for this,” he murmured against your skin, moving to kiss and nibble around your inner thighs as his thumb rubbed over your clit. You were squirming under him, your legs heavy on his shoulders. “Yeah?” you panted, fingers pulling harshly on his hair as his mouth suddenly moved back to your pussy.

“All mine now though,” Harry smirked, his words vibrating into your centre. “All your- fuck,” you cried out, unable to control yourself as he slipped a finger into you, his tongue still working at your core. He added another, then another, filling you until you were bucking into his mouth. He found your g-spot with ease, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk as he watched you writhe and moan.

“I’m-” you started, cut off by a ripple of pleasure moving through you.

Harry released your clit from his mouth with a pop, his fingers unrelentingly thrusting into you as his mouth snaked up your body. “You’re what?” he grinned, his face only inches from yours.

“I’m gonna-”. This time Harry cut you off with another kiss, your juices warm on his tongue as it danced around your mouth. You wouldn’t pair pussy juices with red wine, but on Harry’s tongue they tasted heavenly.

He pulled away, eyes dark as he watched you squirm and buck under him. “Gotta say it for me,” Harry told you. You felt like you were buzzing, hot pleasure vibrating every part of your lower body. “I’m gonna come,” you cried out, the ball of heat in your core threatening to explode.

As soon as you said it, Harry’s lips crashed to your neck, suckling and biting at the soft skin. It was the final bit of stimulation you needed, your pussy clenching around his fingers as you finally reached your high. “Good girl,” he repeated, working you through your orgasm until your back collapsed down, flush to the countertop.

You were panting and heaving as Harry pulled you to sit up, hissing as the cold of the stone hit your clit. You wrapped an arm around his shoulders, your body threatening to crumble if you didn’t support yourself.

“Come on,” Harry whispered, lifting you up. He carried you over to the sofa, resting you on his lap as he sat down. “You okay?” he asked as you stayed silent, totally numbed by the strength of your orgasm. You just stared at the identical triplets of him in your vision, trying to focus on the real one before you. His eyes were raking over your features, your puffy fucked-out eyes and swollen wine tinted pout. Your cheeks were pinked up to match your lips, tiny beads of sweat on the bridge of your nose.

“Thanks,” you whispered, a tiny smile crinkling the corners of your eyes. “For the orgasm.”

“Anytime,” Harry laughed, running a hand up your back. “M’glad we’re friends now,” he told you, moving you over to sit next to him.

“Do you do that with all your friends?” you giggled, swatting at his thigh.

“Oh yeah. Welcome to the club,” he teased. You rolled your eyes, but the two of you settled into a comfortable silence.

“D’you want a shower?” Harry asked eventually, breaking the quiet. You turned back to face him, still dizzy as your eyes tried to focus on his face. “Desperately,” you groaned. “But I’m still a bit wobbly.”

Harry laughed, pushing your messy hair from your face. “M’gonna have one then,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before standing up.

You listened out for the sound of the shower turning on, but Harry’s footsteps had stopped just outside of his living room door. You looked over to him as he stood frozen in the doorway. “What was that asshole’s name?” he asked, staring up at the ceiling as he tried to remember.

“Who?”

“Your boyfriend.”

“Harry, seriously. I’m naked right now and you want to me to think about my ex?” You rolled your eyes at him.

He shrugged, “can’t remember his name.”

“Jamie. Why are you even talking about him?”

“Because you could’ve had this a long time ago if you hadn’t showed up with him.”

You grabbed one of the cushions, launching it in his direction. He strode over to you, picking you up and flinging you over his shoulder as you shrieked. His hand landed a heavy blow on your ass, raucous laughs blending together in the silence of the night.

Harry set you down in the bathroom, pushing the door shut behind you. “Throwing isn’t playing nice,” he tutted, leaning around the shower screen to turn it on. “So now you have to be punished.”

“Oooh,” you teased. “What’s my punishment, a shower? Or are you going to drown me?”

“Y’have to shower with me. While m’all sexy and naked.”

“That’s not a punishment,” you frowned, watching as he stepped under the water. Harry had always had a decent body, but he’d gotten pretty jacked up since you saw him last. If anything, showering with him was a reward.

“Mm, but you have to keep those hands off me, you horndog,” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes, following him into the shower. He side stepped past you to let you under the water, trying his hardest to avoid your touch. “I’m not going to molest you,” you told him. “Going to have to touch once or twice since we’re in a tiny box.”

“Fine. Just no feeling me up,” he shrugged, mockingly shielding his cock from you.

“Was it worth it?” you asked Harry as you stepped away from the water, passing the soap to him. “Was what worth it?”

“All the fighting, all your jealousy,” you poked your tongue out at him. “Now you’ve finally got in my pants, was it worth it?”

Harry stepped up behind you, his warm breath against your neck sending a shiver down your spine. “How am I supposed to answer that, sweet girl?” he drawled, pulling you around to face him.

You stepped back, pressing yourself into the cold tiles. Harry stayed close to you, his wandering hands finding a home on your hips. “Can’t say it was the easiest chase, can’t say I really enjoyed it,” his fingertips were trailing up your body again, his thumb pushing past your parted lips. His face hardened at the sight, imagining something other than his digits between your pout. “Would do it all again though.”

You bit down on his thumb, grinning as he pulled it from between your lips with a yelp. “You don’t have to fight me for three years just to sleep with me Harry. Could always just ask,” you smirked, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“Is that right?”

You nodded, watching as his eyes moved over your face. “Or get down on your knees and beg me. Either works,” you shrugged. He chuckled, shaking his head at you.

Harry stayed silent as he lathered up the soap between his palms, hungry eyes fixed on you. “Turn around,” he finally told you, putting the beige bar back in the shower tray. He pulled you back into him, his length solid against your ass. His wandering hands finally put themselves to use, rubbing the soap across your body. He paused at your sternum before one hand wrapped around your throat, the other cupping the curve of your breast. Your breath caught, a tiny moan echoing around your mouth as he squeezed lightly, his cock twitching against your skin.

He took his hand from your breast, reaching between your bodies to push his cock between the tops of your thighs. His tip brushed your sensitive clit, your teeth clenching as electricity surged through you. “Can I please fuck your pretty little cunt?” Harry growled, using his free hand to wash the soap from your body. He was throbbing at your core, his cock likely painfully hard by now. “Please, Harry,” you whimpered.

He grunted at your neck, pushing your upper body forwards until his cock lined up with your entrance. He was nudging into you, your pussy dripping and ready to welcome his girth. You’d never needed more like this before, though you’d never felt as good as Harry had made you feel. He released his hold on your throat, one hand lowering to circle your clit as the other splayed across your lower belly, his fingertips digging into the plushy skin.

Your hips rut into his hand, a cry tumbling from your lips as the quick movement forced his girth into your tightness. Your already shaky legs could’ve buckled right there, your body barely able to hold itself up around Harry’s cock splitting you wide open. It took Harry by surprise too, a shaky moan echoing off the walls as he bottomed out inside of you, the extra lubrication from the water pushing him deep into your core. “Fucking hell,” he groaned, stilling as he caught his breath. “Y’okay?”

You moved a hand down to hold onto his wrist, silenced yet again by his cock. “More,” you whined, pussy throbbing as he started to fuck into you hard. You’d skipped the slow, figuring each other out sex. It was as if you already knew what the other needed. Harry was fucking you, his thick red tip tearing you apart as you both raced for another orgasm, each thrust sending you closer to Heaven. The steam and the sounds of the water pounding the shower floor clouds your mind, unable to feel anything except the fullness Harry’s cock gave you.

You were getting close, the burn in your core spreading down the tops of your thighs, before Harry suddenly pulled out. Just as you were about to question him, Harry spun you around. “Want to see your face when you cum f’me,” he panted, sliding one arm under you to lift you against the tiled wall. He slipped back into you with ease, the new angle forcing his cock into places you’d never even known you could feel so much pleasure in.

Your hand tugged at his wrist, pulling his fingers back up to your neck. Harry let out a dry chuckle, his fingers wrapping back around your throat with ease as he slammed into you.

He was a fucking vision. His wet curls hanging down into his eyes, the shine of the water on his tattooed body. Just the sight of him staring at you with those hungry eyes was enough to have you gasping and panting. “Harry, I’m-” you started, a loud moan cutting you off.

He picked up his pace, hips snapping into yours with the deafening slap of skin on skin. “Not yet,” Harry grunted. “Gonna cum w’me.”

Your walls were already tightening around his shaft, hips bucking into him uncontrollably. You bit down hard on your lower lip, nails digging half-moon shapes into the thick muscle of his shoulders. “I can’t,” you whimpered, throwing your head down onto him. “You can, and you will,” he told you, removing his hand from your throat and instead using it to pull your chin up to meet his eye.

You nodded, face contorting as you tried desperately to ignore the fire coursing through you. “Please, Harry,” you whined. Your walls were clamped around his girth, his thrusts losing their rhythm as he got closer. “Come,” he commanded, wrapping his free arm under you as his legs started to shake. You howled as you finally let go, the stars in your vision exploding like fireworks. The tiny shower cubicle was suddenly full of carnal moans and cries, Harry’s lips spitting out your name over and over and over again as he shot ribbons of white-hot come into you.

You stayed in that position for a few minutes, before Harry slowly let you down onto the floor. He held you up as your legs shook, a light hand brushing over the finger marks left on your throat.

“Are you still on birth control?”

“No. Should I not be holding my legs up right about now?” you asked, watching as his eyes went wide.

Harry pulled his arm from under you, ready to let you collapse on the floor in his panic. He screwed his face up tight, a quiet “fuck, fuck, fuck,” mumbled under his breath.

“Relax, I am. Sorry.” you told him, a tiny smirk playing on your lips. He reached out and pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, grinning as you yelped and smacked his hand away. “Serves you right, bastard.”

He re-washed between your legs quickly, a gentle hand washing away the remains of your juices pooled between your thighs. “Better?” he asked, reaching behind you to turn the water off. “Mhm, just need a good sleep now,” you told Harry. “Oh yes, need to go to bed and think about the beautiful friendship we’ve ruined,” he smirked, handing you a towel.

You dried yourself off before following him to the bedroom, pulling on the clean t-shirt Harry handed you. He was humming a silly tune as he ruffled his hair in the mirror, watching your reflection expectedly. “Used to annoy you when I hummed,” he said, climbing onto the bed to join you.

“Still annoys me plenty,” you told him, pulling the duvet over your legs as you settled back into the pillows. “Just too fucked out to care right now.”

part two ??

₊ ⊹ ₊ ✧ ・ 🍒・✧₊ ⊹ ₊

taglist: @sleutherclaw @slutforcoffein @harrysolaf @opheliaofficial07 @dragonslayersupremacy @nikkisimps @michellekstyles @im-an-overthinker @fangirl7060 @indierockgirrl @palmettogal508 @thereunion1d @hannah9921 @harryshotpocket @daphnesutton @tenaciousperfectionunknown @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @mema10 @annageeeezzzz @cicicavill7 @drewsephrry @tswiftsgf @ashleighsss @bikestyles @he6rtshaker @prettygurl-2009 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @teammom4 @chesthairrry @golden-hoax @lilfreakjez @swag13r @cursingatdaylight @s-h-e-l-b-e-e

[sacharinee]

pairing: bf!peter x fem!reader

synopsis: you tend to peter’s needs with your friends down the hall**

w/c: 1k+

warnings: smut! hj + grinding, cursing, sneaky sex?? minors dni X

a/n: this is my first smut so pls bare w me. like two office references. this wasnt meant to be that smutty but here we are. i hope u like it - feedback always appreciated!

peter is really testing your patience.

he’s been restless the entire evening, shifting and fidgeting on the couch with you. he’s tried laying his head on your lap, tried leaning against the arm of the sofa with his heavy legs on top of you, then decided against everything and sat up straight beside you. 

the only thing keeping peter from his ultimate desires was the splatter film rolling on harry’s massive flat screen tv that entertained you and your friends. 

harry and mj are cuddled on the loveseat together, fully engrossed in the movie as ned and betty make comfortable on the makeshift bed scattered on the floor in front of you.

it was peter’s idea to have a movie night with his girlfriend and closest friends, but it certainly wasn’t his idea to have the most unbearable boner, right now, at the worst time possible. 

“this movie is so gross, who chose this bag of ass?” ned quips. 

“i think it was mj, babe” betty whispers.

“yup, it was me.” 

“i don’t know what you’re talking about, this movie is amazing,” harry shoves a handful of popcorn into his mouth as yet another character screams and dies an excruciating death on the screen.

ned rolls his eyes at him, “you two deserve each other.”

“hey, you know what? if you don’t like it, there’s the door,” the brunette responds, “i don’t know what’s the cause of all this attitude.” 

“it’s be-cause i hate you right now” ned fires back.

“oh, so our entire friendship is a lie, i see how it is.”

“you guys wanna hear another lie?” you chirp, both turning to your attention, “i think you’re both great. seriously. you guys are my best friends and not annoying at all.” 

harry crosses his arms and shakes his head in disbelief, “wow.”

“now shut up and watch the movie.”

your attempts are rendered futile, ned and harry continue to argue while mj watches the gory film with contentment and betty covers her eyes.

your attention turns to peter when he’s tugging on your sleeve. “yes, baby?” you peer down at him with sweet eyes, your pretty face makes his crotch ache. 

he can’t help but look away, “i need help.” he answers your confusion  by bringing your hand down to feel his hard length through his sweatpants.

“are you kidding me, peter?” you whisper. his forehead drops to your shoulder defeated, “i can’t help it, you’re hot when you’re mean, and it really hurts”

peter’s begging makes you feel for him, and you consider your options, “please?”

he’s giving you desperate eyes, and you decide you can’t focus on the movie with your friend’s bickering anyways, so you stand abruptly.

“i’m gonna use the bathroom.”

peter watched you make your way out of the living room, following suit, “m-me too.”

nobody hears or pays attention to the both of you, unaware of the risky events that are to take place down the hall. 

your boyfriend catches you slipping into the nearest bedroom, which he realizes is harry’s. he goes to protest on entering but is dismissed when your soft lips passionately capture his by surprise. peter stumbles to kick the door shut as you bring him closer by his shirt, walking him backward till his leg meets the bed. you’re on top of him, lips sliding over each other as you lay him down.

he feels your hot heat press against his crotch and over his throbbing cock. 

“y/n/n,” peter whines, “holy shit.” his head tips, and his eyes roll back when he feels you grind on his thick length. he grabs your hips, helping you move fervently against him. 

your lips attach to his neck and suck, pleased with your effect on him. peter is so easy to please. you’re glad you wore a skirt tonight, your arousal floods his senses and it’s all he can think about. he’s high on you, and only ever wants to be intoxicated by you. 

“s’it feel good, baby?” peter’s heavy breathing and rushed nod gives you your answer when he fails to give you a more coherent response.

you decide to tease, gently grabbing his hands and bringing them beside him. you push your weight further onto his hard on but move languidly; you enjoy torturing peter.

“god, baby, please.” he’s desperate for more. “what’s that, petey?” 

“i need,” his eyes are screwed tight, he loses his train of thought when you particularly grind on him roughly.

“use your words, pete. you can do it,” you encourage. 

“i- i need more, need to cum.” his raspy whine is what gets you. 

you lift yourself further down a bit, eyes fixated on peter as his eyes follow your hands. you slowly undress his bottoms to reveal his pulsating cock, it’s flushed a bright red, almost painful-like.

you don’t do much right away. you glaze your fingers over his member, tracing the prominent veins that run up and down the shaft.

“y/n,” he begs, “do something.”

your fingers slide to the red tip, circling it. peter shudders against your cool touch. his eyes make contact with yours and he leans up to give you a long tender kiss. your hand wraps around his cock, jerking him off.

peter breaks from your sweet lips, “oh fuck.” 

you don’t pull back from him. his face, centimeters from yours, looks so pretty, clearly entranced by your magic. you’re breathing into each other’s mouth, and his needy hands pull at your bare thighs. he’s desperate to cum after an evening full of uncomfortable fidgeting and hiding his hard-on from everyone. 

he’s lucky to have you, he doesn’t know what he did to deserve an angel sent from heaven, giving him a handjob, in someone else’s bedroom, while his friends are sitting down the hall, unbeknownst to your secret rendezvous. 

he’s panting against you, watching your face while you’re watching his cock, twitching under your hand, ready to spill. it’s almost like he’s asking for your approval. “baby? baby, im- im gonna-”

“yo, parker! y/n! did you get lost on your way to the bath-”

unfortunately, you and peter aren’t quick enough to conceal the mess you’ve made on his very bed when he swings the door open.

“are you fucking shitting me?!” and harry’s running down the hall gagging and clawing at his face.

“oops.” 

“ugh he’s so dramatic. you know how many times i’ve walked in on him-”

“god, my fucking eyes!”

“he’ll be fine.”

“you’re lying again!”

[beastaarz]

white tee. sasuke uchiha.

˖  ࣪  ⭒ ◞ warning ━━━ fem!reader, boyfriend!sasuke, mating press, choking, dacryphilia, cream pie, breeding, lots of dirty talk cause why not, sasukes mouth is filthy, praising, sub!reader, pleasure!dom, overstimulation, clit rubbing, face grabbing, slight manhandling, pet names < pretty, baby, princess >, black coded, lowercase intended.

# . summary : he loves fucking you on the couch,

"unh, fuckkk." your breathy whines filled the air with your glossy, plump lips parted slightly, pretty ( e/c ) eyes averting hesitantly to the small pudge evident on your stomach. the swift, and deep thrusts of his thick tip against your gummy cervix has the both of you panting softly, his now rosy cheeks becoming more evident.

"sasuke." you slur once again, completely drunk off of his cock and the way he would roll his hips with your own. tears well up slowly in your eyes from the pressure, meaty legs folded up over your shoulders as he bullied his cock into your creamy cunt. "'s too deep, feel it in my tummy."

"hm? you feel me in there?" he asked placing his hands on the print in your stomach, voice calm and monotone as ever, with a small drop of breathiness from his poor attempts to try & not bottom out while he was deep inside of you. it was just so wet and tight, and so fucking warm. at this rate, you were going to drive him crazy.

you responded with a eager nod, only getting a cocky and smug smirk from the onyx haired boy, along with his large hand wrapped tightly around your neck, causing you to choke out a broken moan, though it sounded much like a wheeze from the tightness. a creamy ring coated his thick cock, watching himself disappear into your soppy hole feeling the blissful way your leaking cunt clenched around him.

"look how good you’re taking me." he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at the way he rammed his throbbing cock into you.

you've already came multiple times on him, making a huge mess on his white tee shirt as he rammed and bullied his cock into your pussy. the wet, and downright nasty sound of skin clapping filling his ringing ears, feeling the way your ass smacked against his abdomen harshly, balls slapping against your ass. boobs jumping from the impact, though he kept the comforter steady from the steel grip he had around your bruised neck.

"mm shit, princess. so fucking tight around me. look at 'er." he rubbed his free lankly fingers over your swollen bud as you drooled slightly in the corner of your plump lips, tongue freely out and eyes crossed dumbly. "creaming all over my dick like this. wanna fill her up." he almost groaned when you began fucking him back, your fingers clawing into the couch he was fucking you into. he watched the way your plush thighs jiggled as he slammed his hips into your own, also catching the way your arms and knees grew weak from holding them up. he didn’t care though. he wanted to use you, and he was going to do exactly that.

he shoved two fingers into your mouth, feeling the way you immediately wrapped your wet tongue around them, sucking and slurping causing a grin to grow on his face. "good girl." his words making you feel tingly.

he felt his balls grown heavy and tight, sinking his pearly whites into his pink bottom lip as he stared down at you, onyx eyes lidded and hazy. shoulder length hair falling in his face as he abused your cunt even more, letting his spit drop onto your clit as he rubbed and played with it. your pussy squelched all around him, his thick cock coated in your slick making wet noises. "mhm hear that baby? that's all you. so wet. so pretty." only thing these words did was arouse you even more, making it easier to slip inside of you.

"hng . . . keep fuckin' my dick back like this. jus' like that, baby. 's all yours. make it wetter." he pushed your legs further over your shoulders with his free hand, causing you to scream, tears rolling down your face whilst he continued to choke you with the other. he loved hearing your loud cries for him, all it did was stroke his massive ego. you sobbed as he pounded mercilessly into you, pussy swollen and sore.

"oooohh, yesss." you mewled feeling the overstimulation he was putting you through, as you let him abuse and use your cunt, feeling your stomach tighten into a knot for the 10th time already. you felt the way his hips began to stutter against yours. you can tell he was about to cum. right inside of you. "ooh shit, g'na cummm!" you chanted continuously as you felt a huge wave of pleasure hit you like a brick as your ass clapped against his pelvis, the squelchy sounds of your dripping cunt filling your ears and dropping onto the floor.

his onyx eyes glared into your own, his jaw clenching as his thrusts grew sloppy, but his pace never faltering. "me too, baby. gonna let me come inside?" he asked, though he already knew the answer as you brokenly whispered out sweet nothings as you nodded eagerly. "let it all out, pretty." is what you heard before you released your climax, feeling a huge wave of white ecstasy fall over your frame, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you clawed your way into your fluffy couch. you heard a loud groan emerge from him before the feeling of your cunt getting filled up with his kids filled your body.

the both of you panted softly as he fucked his seed into you, making sure none of it spills out. he spilled everything inside of you, watching as yours and his juices leak into the corners of your clit. he closed his eyes, and kissing all your face.

all rights reserved / © beastaarz.

ttm, wattpad / @ beastaarz.

an : first blog. hope ya liked :)

[justauthoring]

your reassurance

matches could get a little tense, but never this bad.

a/n: i go back to school in two days and im not ready to deal with the stress of everything once again so i wrote this to comfort me :) i promise i'll write for anime soon lol.

pairing: jamie tartt x f!reader

warnings: you literally get a water bottle thrown at you :)

Basically, it had all gone to hell in a matter of seconds.

What had been nothing more than any regular game you’ve gone to hundreds of times, turned into a full out brawl that left your heart racing in fear. You’d been up in the box with Rebecca, Keeley and Higgins as you always were, happily watching Richmond play while your eyes specifically gravitated towards a certain player with the number nine on his back.

Richmond was winning and you’d been very vocal and very loud about your excitement and support (like you always were) the entire game. Jamie seemed to be especially on fire that day after securing one goal himself and assisting with two other ones, which happily placed Richmond in the lead of three to one.

But it wasn’t an at home match, and it seemed like some of the fans who cheered for their home team didn’t appreciate just how loudly you and your friends were cheering.

After Jamie manages to score another goal himself, you’re jumping up to your feet, decked out in red and blue with Jamie’s number happily adorning your back. You scream so loud even though your throat already feels raw from how loud you’d been cheering the entire match, Keeley’s hands tightly clutching your arms as the both of you jump up and down. Jamie is being tackled by his teammates and you watch the celebration with a fond smile, cheeks flushed, skin slightly warm with sweat as the whole match catches up to you.

Then, suddenly, there’s something smacking you right in the forehead.

It’s a surprise enough, not having expected the hit, but it hurts enough to knock you off balance. You stumble backwards on your feet and feel Keeley’s grip tighten on you as she tries to catch you. Your hand falls to your forehead where you’d been heard, winching when it throbs in response, lowering your gaze only to see a water bottle on the ground next to your feet and when your eyes glance ahead of you, you see a pair of blazing eyes staring back at you.

“Babes,” Keeley calls out in shock, pulling your eyes on her as she glances at your forehead. “Are you–”

“Shut your damn whore mouth!”

You’ve hardly processed what’s happening before you realize that the man is trying to climb his way up to your seats, and Keeley is harshly pulling you back to safety. You distantly hear Rebecca calling out for security as Higgins tries to guide everyone else to safety as well. You know you should snap out of it and help Keeley but your vision is blurring and your heart is racing and everything is suddenly too much that you’re stuck staring at the pair of eyes that seem to wish the absolute worst for you.

The man manages to grab your arm before you can fully pull away, digging his nails into your arm as you let out a small cry before Keeley rips his grasp off of you and fully tugging you away. She pulls you to face her, shoving her in front of you when it was clear that you were the man’s target and you see security rushing past you as second later as you’re pulled away from the stadium and down the hall.

Rebecca is rushing to get medics and Keeley is trying to ask you if you’re okay but you can’t think straight. You keep glancing over your shoulder in fear that somehow the man will be there, but of course he isn’t and before you know it you’re being tucked away into a room and sat on a bench where Rebecca returns with some of Richmond’s medics.

Keeley stays there, holding your hand tightly as the medic checks you over. You squeeze her hand without even realizing it, your heart still pounding madly against your chest as the medic cleans the scratches the man had managed to dig into your arm and place a bandage over them. She confirms that you have a very mild concussion from the plastic water bottle hitting your head and she wants you to rest in the room for a bit before heading home, and only if you have someone to drive you home.

Luckily, Keeley is able to assure that you do when you find yourself unable to speak, and then the medic is leaving with one final goodbye and a nod Rebecca’s way.

“Babe,” Keeley calls softly, “are you–”

“Where is she?” A sudden voice booms and you react to something for the first time since everything had happened, back straightening as your eyes fall towards the door in alert. “Oi, where is Y/N? Y/N–”

Whatever Jamie had been about to say promptly falls shut the second he reaches the door and his eyes catch yours. His face falls when he sees you, the wild panic in his eyes morphing to concern when he takes you in and before you realize it you’re jumping off the bench and he’s wrapping his arms around you before you can even take one step.

You wrap your arms around him tightly, burying your head into the crook of his neck as a small sob leaves your lips. Jamie presses a hand to the back of your head in response, worried eyes flickering over to Keeley who’s offering him a small smile and a hand to your back before she steps out with Rebecca, the two of them giving you some privacy.

“I’m so sorry it took me so long to get ‘ere,” Jamie rambles the second he’s sure you’re alone. He pulls back, moving to cup your cheeks as his eyes traces your injuries, frowning deeply when he sees the bruise that’s welling on your forehead. “We were already leaving the pitch when it happened and when I tried to turn around, I couldn’t get through. I tried to get to you as soon as possible, love. Are… what happened?”

It’s like everything finally catches up to you. The tears welling in your eyes finally fall as you clutch onto him tightly, relying on his presence heavily, shaking your head. “I dunno,” you mumble. “One second I’m cheering for your win and then a water bottle is being thrown at my head. Jamie, he was so angry… the man who hit me and then he was trying to get to me and I froze… I… I was so scared.”

Using his thumb to brush away your tears, Jamie shakes his head, shushing you gently. “I’m so sorry, love. I should’ve been there.”

You just shake your head; “you couldn’t have known. Keeley helped get me away and Rebecca got security as soon as possible.”

“Then I owe them the whole world for keeping you safe for me,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your forehead, careful not to put pressure on your injury. “And I’ll personally make sure that that man is never allowed to a single match ever again. And worse.”

Nodding, you reach up and grab his hands in your hand, leaning against him. “I couldn’t think properly until I saw you,” you explain, registering that you hadn’t really listened to the medic when she was trying to help you. And you hadn’t thanked Rebecca or Keeley yet, which you would need to. “I think I was in shock.”

“Of course ya were,” Jamie agrees. “What ya went through… ya never should have had to. I’m so sorry that it even happened in the first place.”

You just shake your head, pressing a kiss to his palm. “I think the medic said I only had a mild concussion. And that you need to drive me home.”

“Done,” Jamie agrees with ease, “you practically already live with me. Will ya be okay takin’ the bus back home with the boys? I don’t really want ya to be alone.”

You nod with ease. “I want to be with you,” you assure, meeting his gaze. “Rebecca’s private jet is lovely but I need you.”

“Then you’ve got me,” Jamie promises, pulling you in for a hug once more, holding you tightly as if afraid you’d disappear from his fingers. “Always.”