#Where he lays me down on the sofa and pulls me into his lap before pulling a blanket over both of us

[zombieplaguedoc]

Someone has probably already done this but

Imagine sitting next to a fireplace in a nice comfy blanket with some hot chocolate and cuddling with your f/o.

ANTIS DNI, THIS ISN'T FOR YOU.

[flowersforbucky]

love language

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 6.6k

snapshots of your relationship with bucky told through the five love languages.

“remember, we're madly in love, so it's alright to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”

warnings/tags: smut, oral, unprotected sex, mentions of blood, wound care, brief uses of alcohol, anxiety and self-doubt, language, reader is afab, avenger!reader, fluffier than what i typically write, undercover mission, friends to lovers!!! 18+ only

Acts of Service

“Exciting Friday night?” Your head snaps up at the masculine voice. You nearly slosh hot tea on both yourself and the pages of the book that lay open in your lap. You're surprised to see him - as far as you were aware, Bucky and Sam were in Munich. You didn't think they were supposed to be back in the country for another two days.

“Something like that,” you answer, regaining your composure as you bring the mug to your lips. “What are you doing back so early? Did recon go okay?”

Bucky lets out a long sigh as he plops down into the recliner, adjacent to where you're curled up on the sofa in the compound’s communal living room. His eyelids look heavier than normal, with dark circles underneath that aren't typically present. You place your cup of tea on the end table next to you and close the book before angling your body towards him, giving him your undivided attention.

“It was a shit-show,” he answers bluntly, voice laced with defeat. “HYDRA had the drop on us from the minute we entered Germany. What was supposed to be us just gathering intel turned into an ambush. One minute, it was just the two of us in an old warehouse, and then the next..” he trails off, eyes locked on one of the buttons of his tactical pants that he’s fidgeting with. “We’re lucky to have made it out. Sam was taken to med-bay as soon as we got back. Broken arm and collarbone, dislocated shoulder, possibly a few fractured ribs..” he lists off the injuries.

“Jesus,” you cringe, a death grip on the book in your hands as you listen to him summarize the mission. “Looks like you came out pretty unscathed in comparison.” You glance him over from head to toe, relieved to see no visible wounds or bruises.

“Yeah, well,” he starts, sitting forward and pulling the collar of his black t-shirt over to expose his right shoulder. Your eyes bulge when you see the obvious knife wound that the fabric had been concealing. “Not completely unscathed.”

“Holy shit, Bucky, why didn’t you go get this stitched up?” You stand up quickly, your book falling forgotten to the floor as you step closer to him to inspect the cut. There’s dried blood covering the surrounding skin of his chest and shoulder, with fresh blood still seeping from the opening of the wound. Even with the luxury of the Quinjet, a direct flight from Germany to New York is at least eight hours, who knows how long the cut had been steadily oozing–

“The bleeding has slacked off for the most part at this point,” he tries to assure you, attempting to cover the wound back up with his shirt. His shirt that, upon closer inspection, is thoroughly soaked through with blood. You all but smack his hand away so that you can continue to inspect the cut.

“It’s too deep,” you shake your head. “It needs stitches.”

“It’ll be fine by morning–” he starts to argue with you, but you’re already walking away from him, exiting the room to retrieve a first-aid kit kept in one of the shared bathrooms just down the hallway. Though you can’t currently see him, you have no doubt that he is shaking his head and rolling his eyes at you.

Before returning to the living room, you stop by the kitchen and grab a cold can of Blue Moon to help take the edge off. Upon reentering the living room, you find that he’s hunched over where he sits in the recliner, leaning forward to grab your book from where it had fallen on the rug.

“What were you reading before I so rudely interrupted you?” The corner of his mouth tugs upwards in a smirk as he inspects the cover of the book.

“The Hunger Games,” you answer simply as you place the first-aid kit on the couch and hold out the beer to him. He accepts the drink, a small, surprised smile appearing on his face.

“Shirt,” you instruct a second later, turning to him with a warm, wet rag that you intend to clean some of the dried blood off with. Surprisingly, he obliges your request, placing both the beer and the book in his lap to pull the bloodied fabric over his head.

“And what exactly is The Hunger Games about?” he asks, looking up at you through his thick lashes before turning his attention back to the book in his lap. He flips it over, skimming the words on the back cover.

“The Hunger Games,” you begin as you delicately swipe the damp washcloth across the dirty skin around his wound, watching as the material turns from white to pink as it collects the old blood. “Are dystopian fiction novels. The books get their title from an annual event in which a boy and a girl, ranging from the ages of twelve to eighteen, from twelve different districts are selected by name-drawing to compete in a fight to the death. Twenty-four go into an arena, one comes out.”

“Sheesh,” Bucky grimaces and pops the tab to the beer. You turn away from him, placing the soiled washcloth on the table next to him before retrieving some disinfectant from the kit. “And what’s the point in having a bunch of children kill each other?”

“Punishment and control,” you shrug, pouring some of the clear liquid on a large gauze pad until it’s soaked. He gives you a vague nod, signaling he’s ready for you to clean the wound. You dab the drenched cotton along the opening of the wound, wincing more visibly than Bucky does himself. “The districts where the children are reaped from have had uprisings against the nation’s Capitol in the past. The games are to punish them, as well as to remind them what power the Capitol holds.”

Bucky’s brows furrow together, contemplating your words. You make the initial incision for his stitches and he lets out a grunt of discomfort. “Sorry,” you mumble, concentrating on the stitchwork.

“So what happens?” He asks after a few moments of silence, obviously trying to distract himself from the needle going in and out of his tender flesh as he sips on the amber colored liquid. “The group of kids rebel and take down the Capitol?”

“You’re not too far off,” you chuckle lightly. “I guess you’ll just have to read them for yourself to find out.”

“I suppose I will,” he says, eyeing your needlework from the corner of his eye. “Will you let me borrow your copies when I finish The Lord of the Rings?”

“You’re reading The Lord of the Rings?” you fail at hiding your tone of surprise, more focused on finishing suturing his cut.

“Don’t act so shocked,” he feigns insult. “I read when I have the free time to do so.” He turns his head towards you for the first time since you began stitching, causing you to realize just how close his face is to your own. You push down the fluttery feeling in the pit of your stomach at the close proximity, clearing your throat as you turn to grab a pair of small medical scissors. You clip the thread before backing away from him.

“That should hold you together well enough until your supernatural super-soldier healing abilities take care of it while you sleep.”

He stands from his position in the recliner, holding out your book to you. “Thank you,” he tells you sincerely. “For the stitches, and the beer.”

“Of course,” you say as you take your book back from him. “Don’t want you getting blood all over the compound.”

“I think I’m gonna go check on Sam,” he sighs. “I’ll let you get back to your reading.”

“Get some rest!” you demand as he retreats to the hallway.

“Yes ma’am,” he calls without looking back, his Brooklyn drawl making an appearance.

For the rest of the night, you try to focus on your book and not the way you felt when his plush pink lips and cerulean blue eyes were just inches from your face.

Receiving Gifts

One week later

Punctuality has never been your strong-suit, but you didn’t expect to be the very last person to arrive at Bucky’s birthday party - get together, as he insists on calling it, since he feels silly having a birthday party at over one hundred years old. However, as you’re approaching the pavilion at the compound’s lake, you see that all of your friends are already mingling comfortably.

Natasha, Sharon, and Wanda wave at you from where they lounge next to the bonfire, Steve and Sam are engaged in an intense game of beer pong (which Sam seems to be doing impressively well at, considering one arm is still in a cast and sling), Clint and Bruce are playing cornhole - everyone is here, though you don’t see the one person you came for.

You make your way over to a picnic table closer to the lake that has been dedicated to presents so that you can add yours to the pile. You had ordered the gift a week ago, the same night that you had stitched up Bucky’s shoulder wound, and it arrived just in time - in today's mail, only an hour ago.

Hence the reason you are the last to arrive with a shittily-wrapped present in hand.

“Is that Avengers wrapping paper?” You whirl around at the amused voice to see Bucky walking towards you.

“That it is,” you confirm. “You and I aren't featured, though. Just the OGs,” you shrug, staring down at the cartoon depictions of Steve and the others.

“I was starting to wonder if you weren't going to come.” He says lightheartedly, nodding in the direction of everyone else.

“Your present didn't get delivered until the last minute,” you explain, giving the box-shaped object in your hand a shake. “Didn't want to show up empty handed.”

“You didn't have to get me a gift at all,” he says reassuringly, but eyes the present curiously. “But since you almost missed my party over it, I should open it right away.” He holds his hands out expectantly, almost childlike.

You roll your eyes, handing over the poorly packaged present. You had never been the best at gift-wrapping, usually preferring to reuse bags.

“I did not almost miss your party. It's just now eight o'clock,” you defend yourself, staring at the sun that's just starting to set over the lake's horizon, painting the New York sky in hues of orange and purple.

He smirks, walking past you to place the present on the table. You watch as he rips the wrapping paper away unceremoniously, until the gift is revealed.

“I know you had asked to borrow my copies,” you begin, suddenly feeling nervous as you watch him look over the box set of the first edition of The Hunger Games trilogy. “But my copies are old, and tattered, and have been annotated to shit, so.. I thought maybe you'd like your own,” you shrug nonchalantly.

He studies the box, pulling out the first book and glancing it over with a look you can't quite decipher. There's a faint hint of rose on his cheeks, and the lines around his eyes crinkle when he turns his head to look at you.

“Thank you,” he says with a soft, earnest smile. “This is incredibly thoughtful of you. I'm going to start reading them–”

“This pizza is getting cold!” You hear Sam's voice bellow from under the pavilion a few yards away. “I'm about to dig in with or without the birthday boy.”

You exhale through your nose, a half laugh, half sigh and look at Bucky expectantly. “Pretty sure you're the only birthday boy here.”

“I guess that's my cue,” he sighs as he places the books with the rest of his unopened gifts. “Thanks again, really. It's my favorite gift,” he adds with a sly grin as he begins to walk towards Sam and the table of pizza boxes.

“You haven't even opened the others yet,” you point out, following in his steps.

“Don’t need to open any of the others to know that yours is my favorite.”

Words of Affirmation

Two weeks later

Overstimulated. That's the best word to describe the way you're currently feeling.

Nervous, uncomfortable, irritable, a little hungry, even - any of those words would suffice, too. But with the way the velvet fabric of your dress hugs your hips too tightly, the way that the conversation of the drunk party guests roars in your ears, and the way that the heels of your feet already burn in your platform wedges so early in the evening, you think overstimulated sums up your current state the best.

You fidget with the extravagant ring that adorns your left ring finger, twisting it back and forth and rubbing the pad of your right thumb across the oval-shaped stone.

You aren't even supposed to be here, your brain keeps reminding you. It was supposed to be Natasha. Natasha, who has a boatload of undercover operations experience. But then she had to come down with the flu. Natasha, who never gets sick with anything more than a head cold, bedridden with the flu the day before a highly anticipated undercover mission that you are now taking her place in.

It's not that you hadn't been part of an undercover operation before - you had. You just hadn't been part of any undercover operation that required you to pose as someone's wife before.

Definitely not Bucky's wife.

The two of you had just arrived at the party no more than thirty minutes ago and you had spent the entirety of that time thinking that you wouldn't be able to make this believable; that everyone would see how anxious and awkward you feel and just know - just know that you weren't meant to be here and that it's abundantly clear that you and Bucky aren't actually together.

“Ivanov just arrived,” Bucky's voice murmurs next to your ear as he walks up behind you, snapping you out of your self-doubt induced trance. His left hand, disguised using nano-tech to look like a human, flesh hand, comes to rest against the small of your back and his right hand extends the drink that he retrieved for you from the bar.

“How'd you know I like lemon drops?” You ask, instantly recognizing the pale yellow liquid in the martini glass.

“I'm your husband. It's part of my job to know your go-to cocktail,” he smirks, looking at you in a way that almost makes you believe his words. “Besides, I'd know your drink of choice anyway. You always order a lemon drop.”

You clear your throat, breaking his stare by checking out the fellow attendees and event staff filtering through the ballroom. You slowly sip the sour liquid, trying to focus on the burn of the vodka and not the heat radiating across the skin of your back from him simply resting his fingers against the material of your dress.

“So where's Ivanov?” you break the tension. The illegal arms dealer that you'd been assigned to spy on was nowhere to be seen.

“He should be showing his face any minute now,” Bucky answers, a hint of displeasure in his voice. “I overheard some men at the bar saying he had just arrived in a three million dollar Bugatti with his twenty year old girlfriend.” You visibly cringe at the numbers. Ivanov had to be approaching senior citizen status at this point.

“Can't say that I'd expect anything else from him,” you sigh, attempting to wipe the disgust from your features. “What’s our game plan from here? Hover close by him and listen in on conversations–”

“Dance with me,” Bucky interrupts, his eyes locked on something on the opposite side of the room. You follow his gaze, realizing that Ivanov has entered with his exceptionally youthful girlfriend on his arm. Bucky extends his own arm to you, which you accept after tossing back the last sip of your drink and setting the empty glass on a table behind you.

He guides you to the center of the dance floor where several other couples are swaying to classical piano music. Ivanov mingles with a small group of questionable looking men just a few feet behind you, where Bucky is able to keep an eye on him.

He places one hand on your waist, using the other to hold one of yours in his own as he begins to slowly sway both of you to the rhythm of the music. Your free hand rests on the back of his neck, where you nervously twirl a tuft of his hair between your perfectly manicured fingers (you tried not to take too much offense to Sharon rushing you to the first salon she could find yesterday to help you look the part).

Bucky huffs a low laugh before using his grip on your hip to tug you closer to him, closing an awkward amount of space that separates your chest from his.

“If we want this to be believable, you’re gonna have to act like you kind of like me,” he murmurs lowly so that no one near you overhears. His face is just inches from yours - the scent of sandalwood from his aftershave and spearmint from his mouthwash is dizzying. Add in the fact that the lemon drop you had just quickly downed was heavy on the vodka, it’s a miracle that you’re still standing upright in these ridiculous heels that Sharon had picked out for you.

“I do like you,” you huff, your cheeks warming. “Not liking you isn’t the problem.” His gaze shifts away from where Ivanov stands a few yards behind you and down to your face.

“What is the problem then?”

You stare at his hand that holds yours, your eyes fixated on the brilliant diamond of your faux wedding ring. “For starters, I don’t really know how to slow dance,” you half-mumble. As if on cue, your left ankle shifts ever so slightly in your shoe, causing you to wobble. Bucky tightens his grasp on both your waist and hand to help steady you. He cackles - loudly enough for an old lady walking by to give him a side-eye.

“I think it’s pretty unlikely that our cover gets blown because you’re a little unsteady,” he whispers reassuringly. It does little to ease the lump of anxiety that has settled in your gut.

“It’s not just my lack of dancing experience,” you retort. “It’s all of this. I’m a bit out of my element here and I can’t help but feel like Natasha would have been able to do a much better–”

“Hey, hey,” he soothes, beginning to massage his thumb over the skin of your hand in languid, circular motions. You can’t decide if it’s the effects of the alcohol coursing through your veins or if it’s just the fact that it’s him, but it feels as though there’s a continuous trail of hot sparks everywhere his skin touches yours. “You've got this. If anyone’s got this, it's you. You've handled missions far more daunting than this with ease, right?”

You finally shift your eyes to meet his gaze. His deep blue eyes bore into yours with utmost sincerity. You give him a small nod of agreement and a tight-lipped, uncertain smile.

He leans in closer so that his mouth hovers just next to your ear, his warm breath raising goosebumps down the expanse of your neck and shoulders.

“And remember, we're madly in love, so it's alright to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”

The slow, gentle swaying motions you'd been forcing your body to perform come to a sudden halt. You look at Bucky as if he's grown a second head. He’s looking at you with a shit-eating grin spread from ear to ear.

“Did you just quote Peeta Mellark?”

“I finished up the first book yesterday,” he shrugs as if his words hadn't just made your heart skip several beats. “Now let's get this job over with so we can go discuss the book in detail over some greasy diner food, yeah?”

Quality Time

The mere thought of getting the fuck out of that giant estate and away from Ivanov and the other countless skeevy party-goers to gorge on greasy diner food was more than enough motivation to get you through the duration of the mission.

Of course, it helped that Ivanov is a lightweight drunk with no concept of volume control. After a couple drinks, he handed the location of his next illegal arms deal to you and Bucky on a silver platter - without ever even noticing the two of you dancing just feet away from him.

“I'm sending the audio recording over to you right now,” Bucky says as he types on his cell phone. The two of you are currently in a drugstore parking lot half an hour away from the estate, sitting in the Audi SUV that you'd been given for this evening’s mission.

“Got it,” Sam’s voice booms through the car’s Bluetooth speakers a second later. “You guys did great back there. Go ahead and get back to the compound for debriefing.”

Your eyes flash to the time on the vehicle's touchscreen display - 10:06 pm. You can feel your stomach churning from hunger and your skin itching to get out of the restrictive velvet fabric, the last thing you wanted to do at this hour was go to a fucking debriefing.

“About that..” Bucky starts, noticing your disappointed expression and tense posture. “Debriefing is going to have to wait until the morning.”

“We should really get any details while they are still fresh–”

“What’s that? Sam? Sorry, you're breaking up, can't understand what you're–”

Bucky's flesh finger touches a button on the digital display screen and the call disconnects before he finishes his sentence.

“You know he's going to call back any second, right?” You ask after a moment of loaded silence. Bucky says nothing at first. You watch as he powers off his phone, and then grabs yours from its location in the center cup holder and powers it off, as well.

“I fully anticipate him trying,” he answers as he puts the car in reverse and peels out of the nearly vacant parking lot. “But I promised you a potentially gut-rotting meal, and I'm going to keep that promise.”

Half an hour later, you and Bucky sit opposite each other in a cozy, corner booth of the only open diner in a five mile radius. It's half diner, half arcade, and the two of you are some of the only people here save for the teenage couple making out next to the jukebox in the gaming area. You both look out of place - him in his black satin suit and you in your burgundy colored dress with the thigh-slit, but you're too relieved to be eating to care.

He's already scarfed down a fried chicken sandwich and is rapidly making his way through a pile of mozzarella sticks. You're eating a fat stack of blueberry pancakes and the best loaded hash browns that you think you've ever had.

Breakfast foods hit different at eleven o'clock at night.

“I'm just saying, Katniss is kind of oblivious,” Bucky shrugs with a mouthful of fried cheese. “It's obvious that Peeta was never just pretending to be in love with her.”

“That's a big assumption coming from someone who hasn't even started the second book yet,” you say as you fork a bite of pancake into your mouth.

He throws his hands up in mock defense, covering his now empty plate up with a dirty napkin.

“You're not wrong though,” you admit. “She did miss a lot of signs, and she's not always the most reliable narrator.”

He responds with a small hum as he watches you finish your pancakes with a soft smile that shows his laugh lines and the dimple of his left cheek.

His smile turns to something more curious as the young couple who had been making out in the arcade room earlier dashes past your booth and out the back door of the restaurant.

“What is it?” You ask, pushing your empty plate towards the center of the table.

“The game room is free now,” he states, as if it's obvious. “Now I can kick your ass in air hockey.”

And kick your ass in air hockey he does. And skee ball, and Dance Dance revolution.

“Please don't tell Natasha that you beat me at Dance Dance Revolution,” you beg him as you pick up your high heels that you had discarded for the game. “She'll never let me live that one down. In fact, if anyone asks, it was a dead tie for all of these games.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” he chuckles, approaching the pool table in the center of the room and leaning against the edge. “As long as you win this game of pool.”

“No, nope, absolutely not,” you freeze where you're standing, crossing your arms over your chest. “If I couldn't beat you at air hockey then I don't stand a chance of beating you at pool.”

He ignores you, instead turning to choose two cue sticks from the selection on the back wall. He tosses one to you from several feet away, which you instinctively drop your shoes to the floor to catch.

“I haven't even tried to play pool since I was maybe ten years old,” you whine.

“Why were you trying to play pool at ten years old?” he chuckles, gathering up all of the balls and placing them inside the triangular rack in the center of the table.

“It was at a birthday party,” you admit. “I pretended to know what I was doing to impress a boy that I had a crush on.”

“And how did that go for you?” He removes the triangle-shaped container from around the balls and begins to line up his shot.

“Well, I haven't tried to play pool since then,” you begin, taking a seat on the edge of the table and turning your head to watch him. He pulls the cue stick back and quickly stabs it forward, breaking the balls apart and sending them rolling in various directions across the felt table. “And Kyle from my fourth grade class thought that I had cooties, so, you tell me how you think that went for me.”

“Sounds like it was Kyle's loss.” You watch as he walks to one of the table's pockets to look inside. “I've got stripes,” he states, looking at you with an expectant smile.

You exhale a dramatic sigh, hopping off the edge of the table and turning around to position your stick in front of the cue ball.

“Fine,” you relent, looking up at him from where you're leaning over across the table. “But you're not allowed to laugh at me when you realize I wasn't lying about having no experience at this.”

“Scout's honor,” he swears and you can tell by his smile and reddened cheeks that he’s already trying to contain his laughter.

Feeling extra nervous due to the way you can physically feel him watching you, you take an embarrassing amount of time working up the courage to propel the tip of the cue stick towards a solid purple colored ball.

It travels a foot or so across the green felt material of the table and comes to a stop just inches away from a corner pocket.

“Damn it,” you sigh under your breath.

“That wasn't too bad, actually,” he says, not even trying to conceal his tone of surprise as he walks over to where you're standing. “You just need to change your stance a little and hit the ball a bit harder.”

“So, do basically everything differently, then?”

“I can help you, if you want,” he offers with a smug grin.

“Hm,” you bite your lip as you pretend to contemplate the proposition. “Okay,” you accept with a shrug. “But this better not be an attempt to pull a cliche “pretend to help her with pool as an excuse to make a move” kind of move.” You're fully joking - you know Bucky well enough to know he wouldn't make such a corny, obvious move with anyone - and you definitely wouldn't expect him to do so with you.

But you don't miss the way his expression darkens ever so slightly and his eyes sweep up your figure before moving to stand behind you, propping his own cue stick up against the table.

The front of your thighs brush up against the edge of the table and Bucky’s arms enclose you on either side - his hands coming to rest next to each of your legs on the table's edge, as close as they can be to you without actually touching.

Your breath hitches in your throat when the silky material of his suit brushes against your bare shoulders, the sensation causing you to go deadly still as you await his next move.

“With how fast your heart is beating right now, I don't think I would have to do something as cheesy as that to make a move.” He murmurs, his mouth close enough to the exposed skin of your neck that you can feel the heat of his breath. It's an automatic response, the way your head tilts back into his touch. You start to pull away, start to feel embarrassed, start to tell him just how wrong he is, when he brings a flesh finger to the ball of your shoulder and trails his index finger down the skin of your arm, eliciting a surge of goosebumps in its wake.

This physical reaction doesn't go unnoticed by him, either. He hums a small laugh, inching closer to you so that his body presses against your ass.

“In fact,” he says, voice barely above a whisper, “I think that if I wanted to, I could have you bent over this table for me without having to resort to anything like that.”

If his chest wasn't pinning you between him and the pool table, you probably would have fallen over. The air in the arcade feels a sudden ten degrees warmer and you swear you can hear your blood pumping in your ears - things that unfortunately can't be blamed on the effects of the martini that had dissipated from your system hours ago.

No, it's all him. His closeness, his warmth, his voice, his scent. Just him.

“If you wanted to, yeah?” You question, your voice an octave higher than you ideally would have liked. “That makes it sound like you don't want to. But the bulge I'm feeling from your pants makes it seem like you do want to. Kinda sending me mixed signals here.” You rut back against him for good measure.

He hisses next to your ear, his hands snapping to your hips, effectively stilling you beneath him. His fingers dig into the flesh around your hip bones, the pressure somewhere perfectly between uncomfortable and pleasurable.

“Here? Bent over this table?” he tuts, his lips grazing the skin next to the shoulder strap of your dress. “Where a couple of unsuspecting teenagers could walk in for a game of skee ball at any second?” He lets out a low laugh, the sound vibrating against your back.

“No, I don't think so,” he continues. “Not when we've got a brand new Audi with a spacious backseat and highly tinted windows just outside this building.”

Physical Touch

If someone had asked you six hours ago if you thought there was a chance you would be ending this night by having sex with Bucky Barnes, you would have said no.

But if someone had asked you if you thought there was a chance you would be having sex with Bucky Barnes in the backseat of a car in a diner-arcade combo parking lot, you would have said fuck no.

You would have been wrong on both accounts. And with the way that he's nipping and sucking up the insides of your thighs, you're pretty fucking okay with that.

Your dress is bunched up around your waist, your panties discarded on the floor of the car. You're laying as comfortably as you can across the backseat with Bucky nestled snuggly between your legs. It's a tight fit, and the stagnant air inside the Audi is balmy, but you'll be damned if you interrupt this to turn the AC on. The only light inside the vehicle is from the glow of the full moon that illuminates the sky, and the giant neon green diner sign a few yards away from where you're parked.

He's not wasting any time - it's well past midnight at this point and considering the fact that Bucky turned your cell phones off hours ago, you're surprised that Sam hasn't traced the location of the vehicle and sent search and rescue already.

As soon as his mouth makes contact with your center, you’re lacing your fingers through his short, soft locks and tugging on them. You grind your pussy against his face, meeting his fervent motions with your own. He locks his lips around your clit before pulling away with an obscene, wet pop that echoes through the cab of the car.

He reaches one hand up to your shoulders while keeping his lips on you, quickly tugging down the spaghetti straps of your dress and then pawing at the fabric covering your chest to free your tits.

At the same time that he plunges his tongue inside you, he rolls a nipple between two of his cool, metal digits, yearning a sharp yelp from you. He releases his grip and then palms your breast in his hand, continuing to work your folds with his lips and tongue.

You don't know if it's the fact that it's been a ridiculous amount of time since you so much as kissed someone or the fact that Bucky eats pussy like he's starving, but you're approaching your climax insanely fast.

You clench your thighs around his ears and push your hips upwards, the friction building that warm tension in your lower belly that comes spilling over when he lets out a guttural moan across your core.

You cum against his face, feeling your juices drip down the insides of your thighs - there's a pesky voice in the back of your head telling you that you're going to have to pay to have this car detailed before giving it back.

He sits up, his back resting against the middle of the leather seat. He unbuttons and unzips his suit pants, raising off the seat just enough to tug them down to mid-thigh along with his boxers. You're still coming down from your orgasm when he's pulling you up from the seat and into a sitting position.

You tuck your legs underneath you so that you're propped up on your knees on the seat directly next to him. Bucky pumps himself in his hand as you lean over, gathering all of the saliva in your mouth and letting it slide between your lips and over the head of his cock.

You push his hand away to replace it with your own, using your spit as lubrication as you stroke him up and down. He throws his head back against the headrest, looking up at the roof of the car as he brings his hand around the curve of your ass, flesh hand finding your pussy that's still throbbing from how hard he had made you cum.

You can feel the smooth band of the engagement ring that you'd been wearing all evening repeatedly caress a large vein on the side of his dick - you remove your hand from him, causing him to snap his head back down to look at you. You bring your other hand to remove the ring from your finger, planning to tuck it into a cup holder for safekeeping while you use your hands on him.

“Leave it on,” he breaks the thick silence when he realizes what you're doing. “Want you to keep wearing it.”

You push the ring back down on your finger, his command sending a fresh wave of arousal to your core. You're extending your hand back to his cock when he cuts you off, pulling you to him and across his lap.

You straddle him, his erection locked between your pussy lips and his lower belly. You move forwards, and then backwards - earning another deep groan from him as you coat the underbelly of his cock in your juices. You grind up and down against him several times, until you're feeling impossibly empty and can't take the feeling of not having him inside you any longer.

You lift yourself up on the balls of your feet, high enough for him to guide himself to your entrance. He teases your hole with his head - or at least tries to, before you're sinking yourself down onto his length. You go still for a moment when he's fully inside you, giving you both time to adjust to the new, overwhelming sensation of each other.

You begin to ride him, slowly at first - he stretches you blissfully sweet and soon you're picking up the pace, your ass bouncing off of his thighs with each comedown.

He places a hand on the back of your neck, pulling your face down to his in a sloppy, searing kiss. It hits you that he's inside you raw right now, and you're just now kissing. You taste yourself on him, warm and salty sweet. He sweeps his tongue along your bottom lip and you open up for him, letting him explore your mouth from the perfect angle that he's at beneath you.

He continues to kiss you but removes his hand from the back of your neck, moving both of them to cup your ass. He begins to meet your movements with his own, thrusting himself upwards so that his cock is ramming into that sweet spot of your cervix and sending you towards a second climax.

“Feel so fuckin’ good,” you moan into his mouth, breaking the kiss for air. Your encouragement spurs him on, increasing the speed of his thrusts. Your legs turn to jelly beneath you, but he's got you - he holds you up by your ass cheeks and leans forward to take one of your nipples in his warm mouth.

It's enough to send you over the edge again. Your orgasm builds, heat exploding through your abdomen as his movements grow erratic and he spills into you from below.

He stills beneath you when you're both spent, your chest heaving against his. You make no effort to remove yourself from him, and he seems more than happy to keep you right where you are - his arms locking around your waist and pulling you close to him.

“I guess now would be as good of a time as any to ask you if you'd like to go on a date with me sometime?”

“Go on a date with you sometime?” You lean back, looking down with him with the limited amount of moonlight and neon lighting that breaks through the tinted windows. “We dressed up real nice, slow danced, spied on a bad guy, ate greasy diner food, played arcade games, and you're inside me as we speak. I think it's safe to say we're currently on a date.”

He snorts, breaking into laughter beneath you. “A second date, then,” he concedes. “I would love to take you on a second date.”

♡♡♡♡♡

thank you for reading!!! kind of nervous to put this one out there tbh, i've been working on it off and on for weeks but i love how it turned out and i hope you all do too. as always comments and reblogs are very appreciated 💕

it's nice to have a friend

moth to a flame

oil & water

[cloudzoro]

Other than the bed | One Piece ♡

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Their favourite place to fuck you other than the bed.

masterlist

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characters: ace, law, nami, robin, sanji, tashigi, zoro

genre: smut (minors dni)

cw: fem!reader, unprotected sex, hair pulling (nami), public sex, almost getting caught, I kind of ate with sanji's 🤤

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Ace - Kitchen counter

The kitchen is where Ace often finds his two fave things: food and you. He can hear people coming, but it's just open enough that you could get caught if you have guests over. Ace's absolute favourite time to prop you up on the counter and fuck your brains out is in the morning when you're making breakfast.

“you have no idea what you do to me”, he groans as he pushes his cock into you. With your tits in his face, he leans in to press kisses to your chest. “So pretty,” he groans.

Hearing you moan his name spurs him on to rut his hips faster. The smacking of his hips against yours echoes through the kitchen.

Your thighs start to shake as you're close. Ace notices immediately, pulling his cock out of your dripping pussy, making you whine.

“I got you, baby. Just let me turn you around,” he says, pulling you to stand and turning you around to bend you over the counter surface. He gets a grip on your hair and thrusts his cock back into you. It doesn't take long for you to cum, body shaking in Ace's arms as he fucks you through your orgasm. The pulsing of your cunt draws an orgasm from him too.

Once you're both finished and calm, you remember the breakfast cooking a few feet away and push Ace away from you, scolding him for distracting you.

Law - Sofa

Law doesn't get to relax very often, so when you both settle down on the sofa, it doesn't take long before he's pulling onto his lap and asking you to ride him. He loves to lean back and watch you work.

“That's it, baby,” he says, voice gruff and low. His tattooed hands grip your hips to subtly guide you as you bounce on his cock. Once you get a steady pace going, he relaxes back into the sofa cushions and watches you. “You're so beautiful, y'know that?”

Law's cock feels so good inside you and it overwhelms you. An ache starts to build in your thighs, and your pace begins to falter. You hear Law click his tongue and his hands grip you even tighter.

“Do I have to do everything around here?” he asks as he lifts you slightly and readjusts you so you're on your back against the sofa cushions. He holds the back of your thigh, pushing your knees up to your chest and begins to pound into you. His thick cock dragging against your walls has you writhing in his grip. “you gonna cum for me?” he asks, knowing you're close. “good, just let go for me.”

Nami - The floor

Sometimes, Nami doesn't have the patience to make it to the bed. After a night out drinking, you both return to your home together. As soon as you close the front door, she's on you. Nami drags you to the living room and pushes you down on the floor, reattaching her lips to yours

“I need you so fucking bad”, she whines. She straddles your lap, and you help her remove her shirt. She hums in satisfaction as your tongue traces over her soft skin. You leave a few kisses on her smooth skin, but this isn't enough for you. You crave the taste of her.

“Sit on my face,” you say, laying back down, and Nami is more than happy to oblige. She removes the rest of her outfit before settling over your face. You grip her thighs, pulling her down so you don't have to strain as your tongue licks over her perfect pussy. You can barely hear her gasps and moans over how wet she is.

“Baby, I'm gonna cum”, she moans as she begins to rock her hips slightly, basically riding your face. You keep going, licking and sucking at her pussy as she shakes above you. She all but floods your face as she cums, screaming your name.

Robin - Against the wall

Sex is the perfect time for Robin to flex her powers. You like testing her patience - she has a lot of it. She lifts you against the wall in the living room, hands coming to pin your wrists against the surface and even one holding your hair so you can't look away from where she drops to her knees and spreads your legs.

She slips two fingers into your pussy, looking up at you as she sections her mouth around your clit. You can see the amused expression on her face as she practically devours you. There's something about holding you up against the wall that gives her a power trip she can't describe.

She continues to work her tongue against you as you clench around her fingers. She's unbelievably good with her hands, and it works you up in no time. She has you arching away from the wall as you cum. She continues licking you through your high, moaning into your pulsing cunt.

When you're done, she pulls her fingers out and sucks them clean, not breaking eye contact with you. She pulls herself back up to her feet and leans into your ear.

“You stay here like a good girl while I go get the strap”, she saunters off to the bedroom, leaving you suspended against the wall.

Sanji - Dining table

Sanji's usually a traditionalist and prefers to fuck you in bed, but sometimes he can be persuaded otherwise. When you flip the script and make him an anniversary dinner as a thank you for all the meals he's made for you over the years, he can't help himself. Once he's done with his meal, he lifts you and lays you down on the dining table with a smile.

“That was perfect, my love. Let me show you how grateful I am,” he says, helping you get your dress off. You've fed him and loved him; he'll be damned if you so much as lift a finger for the rest of the day. Once you're naked, he pulls his cock out, sliding it between your soaked folds, making you whine. “I got you, sweetheart. Don't you worry,” he says, pushing his cock into your hole. He knows as soon as he's fully buried in your sweet pussy he loses his mind, but he tries to keep a grip on his sanity as he bottoms out.

Sanji showers you in praise as he stills, letting you adjust to his size. He admires the way you, his goddess, look moaning on his cock and decides he must be the luckiest man on earth. He starts to thrust his hips, whining and moaning as much as you. You feel so good it drives him up the wall insane. He tells you as such, making sure you know how much he loves being wrapped in your tight wet heat.

“Sanji, please. I'm so close. Please fuck me harder,” you moan, and he almost cums on the spot after hearing you beg for him. He's never denied you of anything, and he's not going to start now. He pulls you up so you're chest to chest and ruts his hips harder.

He watches in complete awe of you as you unravel in his arms. He makes sure to burn the image of your body shaking against the table into his memory. He's held off surprisingly well, considering his usual track record of busting as soon as you make eye contact with him. You pull him into a sloppy kiss, and he finally lets go, filling you up with his cum.

“Happy anniversary, baby”, he mumbles against your lips.

Tashigi - Office

Tashigi is usually a good girl but she discovers, pretty soon after dating you, that she has a thing for being caught. She claims you're a bad influence on her, but she's been having fantasies like this long before you guys started dating.

She's a well-behaved subordinate, but when you convince her to sneak into Smoker's office, she goes along with it because she's too horny to think clearly.

She knows he's out and won't be back until the evening. He's left her in charge, but she's still nervous about being caught by her boss of all people.

“‘Shigi”, you call, already perched on the large desk with your legs spread. She groans loudly at the sight and locks the door before approaching you. She pulls you into a desperate kiss, pushing her tongue in her mouth as she tugs your trousers down. She pats around to find the bag you dumped on the desk beside you. She pulls out the strap on and slides the harness on. You're patient enough to wait until she's tightened it properly to pull her as close to you as possible. “Please fuck me on your boss's desk”, you moan, and she wastes no time spitting on the strap and pushing it into your pussy.

“This what you want, baby?” she asks, not holding back. She's usually so uptight, and you love it when she lets loose with you. She's dedicated to fucking you down into the surface of the desk. It doesn't even cross her mind that she could be caught until she hears footsteps outside the door. She knows they're not Smoker, so she keeps going, continuing to wreck your pussy as there's a knock on the door. She doesn't answer the door, instead covering your mouth with her hand and fucking you through your first orgasm of the day.

“you're so bad, convincing me to do this here”, she growls in your ear once the knocking ceases.

Zoro - Crow's nest

The crows’ nest is outside. The chance of getting caught up there is pretty high, but Zoro doesn't care about getting caught. It doesn't even turn him on; he just doesn't give a fuck if anyone catches him fucking his girl good. He likes it when you join him for his night watch shift. You've spent many nights together in your own little world.

You throw your leg over him so you're straddling him. You kiss his neck as you grind down in his lap, and he wraps his arms around your body to help guide you. He gives a quick look around before returning his attention to you. He grabs the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss. His kiss is firm, but there's a softer meaning behind it. You and Zoro don't need words to know how you feel about each other.

Zoro instructs you to remove your pyjama shorts as he pulls his cock free from his trousers. You reposition yourself and sink down onto his cock. He's huge, so it takes you a few minutes to adjust. He presses kisses to your neck and shoulders as you get used to the way his thick cock stretches you out. Your whimpers boost his ego.

“You gonna move for me, baby? Gonna ride me?” he asks, grinning at you as you begin to bounce on his cock. Zoro allows himself to get lost in how you feel; it's just the two of you and the moonlight and, for once, he feels at peace. Your body takes him to a new plane of existence as you ease into a rhythm that has both of your seeing stars.

“Zoro-” you whine. You want to tell him how good his cock feels inside of you, but you're not sure you can get the words out correctly.

“I know baby, I know”, he groans, planting his feet so he can fuck up into you. You can barely meet his thrusts as you get closer and closer to cumming. “gonna cum baby, gonna fill you up”, he all but growls as he reaches a hand between you to rub at your clit.

It doesn't take long at all for you to cum, a cry of his name leaving your mouth as your body tenses above him. His teeth sink into your shoulder as he follows, filling you up with his cum like he promised. He helps you get dressed again and readjusts against the side of the crows’ nest.

“Close your eyes for a bit. I'm not going anywhere.”

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thank you for reading!!! likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated.

[okwonyo]

COLOGNE, 或──── clingy boyfriends.

❛ 𝗂’𝗆 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗒𝖾𝗍, 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝗆𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝖼𝗄.

1THOU&2HUN 𓈒𓈒 日语 ⠀ ╱ fem!rea ⌕ fluff non idol au ──dis. skinship kissing と ⠀ ( 𝑜𝑜𝑒𝑢𝑣𝑟𝑒𝑠 )

지아 ⠀⦂ ⠀ 𝖣𝖤𝖢𝖮𝖱 𝖬𝖸 𝖳𝖧𝖱𝖤𝖤 🎀

reblogs ˊᗜˋ +feedbacks · C𝑙𝑖CK

HEESEUNG

it always happens when he is half asleep— in the middle of the night especially.

he loves to lock you in his arms before he dozes off. his strong arms wrapped around you while you hide your face in the crook of his neck.

and he hates, he loathes, when you move away from him. he hates when you take your warmth away from him to go somewhere else. he whines whenever you do, “are you trying to kill me?”

he holds your wrist from his comfortable position on the mattress. “‘m thirsty,” you whisper as he scratches his eye. “i will be back in a few seconds, hee,” he nods, although his grip gets tighter.

your first mistake was to think that he was going to stay in bed alone. although you assure him that you are coming back, he gets out of bed and follows you to the kitchen.

the much taller and more muscular man holds your hand to not stumble over anything.

⠀ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ﹙ᵕ ᵕ⠀look under the cut ! ♡

JAY

he never says it. he is not the type to use too many words, especially when it comes to things like this.

action over words, as always, he catches you by the waist as you pass by him. comfortably sat on the sofa, he pulls you on his laps and you barely budge— eyes fixed on your phone.

he puts his chin on your shoulder. not even to look at your phone but at you. he tightens the embrace around your waist as the shape of your side profile gets engraved in his mind for the ninth time.

you still don’t give him enough attention, however. and it makes him a little sad, even more needy, ten times more touchy.

instead of using words, as anyone else would do, he puts his cheek against yours. like a cat turned into a man, he rubs his skin against yours sweetly.

it makes you giggle after a bit. you put your phone to the side and turn around to kiss while he falls to the side.

JAKE

he is always clingy. he is the epitome of the boyfriend who never leaves you alone. you are always touching each other in a way: either by standing close, holding hands or hugging.

his clinginess did get to you at some point of the relationship.

you are not really the type to reach out first, in public at least. but if he does, you let him, no matter where you are.

“sorry if i am too clingy, my love,” he tells you against your shoulder. he gave you a bear hug whereupon you were talking with your friends a few minutes ago and never moved. “my heart was screaming for you all day.”

you pat his head, cradling your fingers in his hair. he hums tenderly as you speak, “it’s okay, baby,” you chuckle. you turn your head slightly towards him, kissing his cheek before continuing whispering, forgetting your friends, “i missed you too.”

he stays silent for a moment as you still play with his hair. after a moment, he starts to leave wet kisses on your cheeks. again and again.

SUNGHOON

“oh my god,” you say. the way your boyfriend looks at you while walking in the living room tells you everything you need to know. he looks at you in the way he does when he wants. “get away from me.”

when your lover wants, it means that he wants you. in his arms, laying on his chest or him laying on yours. under the warm covers or on the sofa. it means he gets clingy, it means he just manhandles you wherever.

“hi, sweetheart,” he greets you with a soft voice. your heart melts, despise the words you spoke a minute ago.

he leans in, aiming from you who lays down prettily on the sofa, chasing after your delicious lips. you hug his neck and he takes it as an opportunity to lean back up. sliding his arm around your back strongly, he presses you against himself.

“i want cuddles,” he tells you against your lips. he tells you in a sigh, desperate and needy.

you hum. “do your thing, big boy,” and he gets up, picking you up in the process. you hug his waist with your legs as he walks to the bedroom.

SUNOO

you knew it. from the moment his eyes locked with yours, with his stupid smile, you knew it wasn’t going to be just one kiss.

it has been maybe more than one hundred kisses by now. but his hand on the back of your neck keeps you in place. alongside with his tongue swiftly dancing in your mouth.

he pinned you against the wall as soon as you finished getting ready. he is ruining your makeup but you don’t have enough strength to walk away from that.

whenever he pulls away to catch a bit of air or change angle, you whisper, “i really have to go,” before kissing him back when he comes back.

to which he responds by rubbing the back of your skin with his thumb and smile, “stay with me for a while, baby,” he pleads in your mouth. “i don’t want you to leave,”

and you give in. from their comfortable position on his waist, you put your hands up and wrap your arms around his neck. he aims for your waist and pulls you close.

JUNGWON

when he gets clingy, sometimes, he just gets a little bit more annoying that he already is. he pinches your sides, slides his cold hand under your shirt, pokes your cheek. anything to get your attention.

but more times than not, he can be less annoying and much more touchy— in a loving way.

“god, i missed you like crazy,” he mumbles as he hurriedly walks toward you. he hugs you quickly after you take off your shoes. “i feel like it has been a lifetime since i saw you.”

you giggle— he has been like this all day. his nose hides in your neck while you pat his back gently, “i was out for an hour, won,”

his embrace tightens around you. he readjusts his his head’s position, “it felt like a million years,” he groans. “never do that to me again.”

you pat his head gently, “i’m here baby,” you whisper. “let’s go cuddle for the next hours, mh?” he nods.

RIKI

neither of you know how it started. but, he grew to be really hopeless without you around, to the extent where it is actually pretty funny.

your boyfriend follows you everywhere you go, without exception. wherever you are, anyone can assume that a tall man is not far away from you.

and said tall man can get even worse when he loses sight of you for a minute.

“you are such a duck,” you tell him in a chuckle. your voice is pretty quiet, but he is so close that he doesn’t need you to speak louder. as much as he can’t act like he didn’t hear. “i’m not going to disappear.”

his arm presses against yours even more as he looks down, “can’t a boy wish to be one with the girl he loves?” he tells you as you walk towards the next clothes hallway.

“you are almost walking on my feet,” you laugh, bumping your shoulder against his to push him away a little.

he stumbles away for ten seconds and comes back, draping his arm on your shoulder, “don’t go away from me!”

ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open

[sturnsdarling]

'what the fuck is wrong with you?'

{insp by @sturnioz au} fratboy!matt calls smartand'mean'!reader after the fight, telling her she needs to come look after shy!reader, but after she finds out what happened, she lays into fratboy!chris, giving him the reality check he needs.

vibe check: arguing, kinda distressed shy!reader ig, smartand'mean'!reader is a take no shit kinda gal, angsty vibes, lil suggestive at the end

2.3k words

A/N: idk where this idea came from i just really like the idea of smartand'mean'!reader laying into fratboy!chris and him just firming it bc he knows shes right. PART ONE IS HERE

love and cigs, merc

You burst into the party, frantically searching every room for Matt and your best friend. Matt had called you nearly five minutes ago, telling you that your best friend needed you and that there had been a fight, with little to no explanation after. Of course, you came to them immediately, knowing that Matt wouldn't call you if he really didn't need to.

When you finally found them, they were all in a back room of the party, surrounded by smoke and a crowd of people all fawning over the boys as Matt, Nate and Chris were all spread across a sofa in the back, your best friend curled up on Chris lap as he lazily toked on a canon joint, his knuckles purple and a soft grin on his face as you watched your best friend toy with his shirt.

"hey, angel, you got here quick" Matts voice washed over you as he stood up, placing a battered hand on the small of your waist and pulling you into him.

His hand came up to your face in attempts to pull you into a kiss, but his bloody knuckles caught your attention and you took his hand in yours, brows furrowed at his battered hands.

"Matt, what the fuck happened" you spat, looking up at him, his hand still in yours

"ouch, she called him Matt, y'hear that Chris?" Nate said under his breath, Chris chuckled in response and you shot them both a glaring look.

"Some kids tried to give Chris' girl drugs so, we showed them why that was a bad idea" Matt shrugged, looking at you as if it was such a simple thing.

Your attention was immediately on your best friend, your face riddled with concern. You dropped Matts hand and made your way over to her, pulling her up off Chris' lap and into a hug.

"are you okay? why didn't you call me?" you muttered into her hair before pulling away, surveying her face.

She nodded, "I'm okay, Chris and Matt handled it" she smiled at you, just before looking down to Chris, who shot her a wink.

"how did this happen?" you asked, grabbing her attention again as she sat back down on Chris lap.

"they saw me alone and I guess they thought I was an easy target" she began explaining the events of the night, but was quickly cut off by your annoyed tone.

"you left her alone?" you spat, your annoyance directed at Chris, "what the fuck is wrong with you?" you looked at Chris like he was dirt, glaring at him, he just stared back, his tongue pressed to his cheek.

"oh shit" Nate chuckled, "Matt, I think your girl is about to go world star on our boy"

"hey, angel, tone it down a bit, yeah?" Matt said, sitting back down on the sofa and trying to pull you down onto his lap.

You snatched your hand from his, tutting as you shot him a dirty look, returning your serious gaze back to Chris.

"s'cool, Matt, let her say what she wants to say, I can take it" Chris grinned, taking a long toke of his joint and looking at you

"you left her alone, at a frat party, knowing she never comes to these without either you or me? are you psychologically damaged?" you continued to lay into him, his cool and collected demeanour triggering you beyond belief.

"and what? some guys thought she was easy pickins, because, lets face it, she is, and then you lose your shit and have to mark your territory again?"

"hey, I'm not easy pickins" your best friend sulked.

"she could have been seriously fuckin' hurt, Chris, did you even stop for one minute to think about that?" you were burning holes into his face at this point, just waiting for him to respond.

Chris' face dropped at your words, the smug smile on his lips coming to a tight line as he clenched his jaw, avoiding your eye contact. His mind suddenly reeling with all the things those boys could have done to your best friend if Nate hadn't called him when he did.

"of course you fuckin' didnt, because you only ever think about yourself, Chris" you tutted, rolling your eyes and throwing your hands up in accusation at him.

"you know, if you weren't Matts brother, I wouldn't let her come anywhere fuckin' near you, all you ever do is put her in a position to get herself hurt, or worse." you crossed your arms with finality.

Chris shifted uncomfortably where he sat, looking at you and then to your best friend who was already looking at him, apologising for your words with her kind eyes, eyes that only made your words all the more real.

"I'd never let anything happen to her" He said through a clenched jaw, looking up at you, his expression could almost have been mistaken for an apologetic one.

"and plus, we had her back, we fuckin' had those guys easy, they ran away cryin" Matt added, reaching out for you again.

This time you took his hand, bringing your gaze to him, brushing your fingers over his bloody knuckles.

"you think they're the only kids that wanna roofie girls and fuck them at parties? you think she's safe now just because you two fuckin' hot heads gave them a bloody nose and a black eye?" Your words stung, you'd never spoken to Matt like that before, not seriously anyway.

No one said anything, your words hung in the air, making everyone shift and come to the damning realisation of what actually happened tonight.

"I know you think you can protect her from this little fucked up life you've created for yourself here, Chris, but maybe it's time you wake up and realise who she might actually need protecting from" you said, looking him up and down with your final words.

Chris said nothing, only stared at you from under his brow bone with a clenched jaw and a loose grip on your best friends waist.

Matt looked over at Chris and then up at you, both of you teetering on the edge of an explosion he did not want to get caught in the middle of. He stood up, taking your hand in his and standing in front of you slightly, bringing your attention away from Chris.

"lets go have a cig, yeah?" He said, squeezing your hand.

You looked up at him through your lashes, unable to tear your eyes from him as he gazed down at you, his warmth only serving to calm you down.

You nodded with a clenched jaw and let Matt lead you out. As you walked out the room you glanced back at Chris, who was biting the inside of his cheek and blinking rapidly, trying to listen to your best friend apologising on your behalf. He wasn't angry, not at you anyway, he was angry at himself, because he knew you were right.

Once you made it outside, Matt dragged you to a quiet spot, pulling a cigarette from his pack and placing it between your pouty lips, sparking it before pulling one for himself and doing the same.

You took a long drag, your fingers shook slightly from the adrenaline you felt coursing through your body.

"y'know" Matt said, blowing smoke out his mouth before resuming, "I've never heard anyone speak to Chris like that and still be standin' after" a smiled, edging closer to you.

"kid had it comin' for putting her in a position like that" you shrugged your shoulders, taking another long drag of your cigarette.

"He didn't mean for it to happen, you know that right?" Matt said, dipping his head to meet your gaze.

you rolled your eyes, "he never means for shit to happen, Matt, that's the problem, shit follows him around, and one of these days she's gonna get hurt because of it" you looked at him, more serious than you'd ever been.

"what about me then?" Matt said, his face dropping as he stood back from you.

"what about you?" you screwed your face up at him

"if shit follows him, it follows me, he's my brother" Matt added

"and?" you cocked your eyes to the side, not seeing his point.

"y'don't think you'll get hurt one day? bein' around me like this?" Matt looked you up and down as he spoke.

"I can handle myself, Matt, she can't" you rolled your eyes with a slight chuckle.

"she can't, or you think she can't?" Matt questioned, his tone accusatory.

"what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" you snapped at him

"I think, you've spent your whole life protecting this girl and now, she has someone else to do it for her, and you cant handle that" Matt shrugged

"you're ridiculous." you rolled your eyes at Matt, leaning against the side of the house.

"am I?" Matt scoffed

"yeah, you fuckin' are becau-" just as you were about to give it to Matt straight, you were interrupted by Chris, standing just a few steps away from you both and clearing his throat.

"y/n, can I speak to you?" Chris said, his hands shoved in his pockets.

"what do you want, Chris? if you've come out here to try and act all big and tell me not to speak to you like that I swear to god I-"

"you're right" Chris cut you off.

"What?" you and Matt said in unison, turning to face Chris.

"you're right, okay?"

"I-" you went to speak, brows furrowed in confusion.

"I don't deserve her, n'probably never will, but, I care 'bout her, n'Id never let anything happen to her" Chris shrugged, unable to maintain eye contact with you.

"Chris" you sighed.

"you don't have to tell me the typa guy I am, y/n, I know, but I'm learnin' okay? she's helpin' me learn" He finally looked at you, still unable to look at his brother who was open mouth, gawking at his brothers confession.

You had no idea what to say, Chris just gave you his version of an apology and actually admitted you were right. You couldn't help but feel sorry for him, somewhere, very deep, under all his assholeness, there was an actual human being who, cared about your best friend probably more than he'd ever cared about anyone.

"Chris" you sighed again, "she trusts you, and, if she trusts you then..." you searched your brain for the strength to call it even with him, "I guess I have no choice but to trust you too"

A small smile crept onto Chris' face but he pushed it away almost immediately, the weight of his confession lifting off his shoulders as his usual self floated back into his body.

"If you tell anyone about what I jus' said, i'll get ya kneecaps broken, kay?" he sniffed, wiping his knuckle across his nose for a brief second, "both'a you" Chris looked Matt up and down.

"there he is" Matt chuckled, placing a hand on Chris shoulder

Chris shrugged off Matts hand and sauntered back inside, leaving you two alone again.

You let the moment hang in the air for a moment, smoking your cigarette as Matt stared at the way the butt illuminated your features.

"look, angel, I didn't mean anythi-"

"its okay, I get it, you're right" you interrupted him, rolling your eyes, feeling significantly less angry about everything after Chris' confession.

"okay, did I slip into a different dimension where you and Chris are able to back down from an argument?" Matt chuckled, looking around him as if he was looking for the portal he fell through.

You laughed, shaking your head at him with a smile, "I've been looking out for her our whole lives and, she's always needed me to protect her, I guess it's just tough now that she doesn't, really need that anymore"

"y'know" Matt stepped closer to you, hooking his thumb under your chin, "maybe its time you let someone protect you, for a change"

"oh yeah?" you grinned at him, "and who might that someone be?"

"me" Matt shrugged, edging his lips closer to yours

"you wanna protect me, Matthew?"

"mhm" Matt nodded with a smile just before kissing you, slotting his soft lips over yours with tender pressure.

You kissed him back, the taste of cigarettes thick on his tongue.

"you do look sexy with your knuckles all battered like that" you broke the kiss, taking his hand in yours and pressing small open mouth kisses on his bloodied knuckles

"you little sadist" Matt said, taking your cheeks in his hand, squishing the flesh together between his fingers.

"you love it" you tore his thumb from your cheek and placed it in your mouth, biting down on the bone before wrapping your lips around it.

Matt groaned at the sight of you batting your lashes at him with his thumb in your mouth, he pulled you forward by your jaw and brought you into him, a firm hand catching you by the small of your back as he pulled his thumb from your lips with a pop.

"I do mean it though, angel, it's time you let someone protect you for once" Matt looked down at you, placing his hand around the side of your face, using his grip to make you look at him.

"I can protect myself" you smirked up at him, eyes pouring into his.

Matt smiled and rolled his eyes, lowering his hand on your waist down to your thigh and dropping his shoulder to your stomach. In one swift movement you were over his shoulder.

"Matthew! put me down!" You erupted into laughter, hitting his back as you hung over his shoulder

Your pleads were met with a firm smack on your ass as a prideful grin spread itself across Matts face.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10

[hazeyysworld]

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

character: george weasley x f! reader

genre: soft fluff

summary: staying with george after his “holy” wound

warnings: brief mentions of blood and his wound

words: 887

.・。.・゜✭・.

During the Hogwarts war, Mad-eye Moody had given Fred, George, Bill, Fleur, Hermione and Ron polyjuice potions to disguise themselves as Harry Potter.

George had gone with Lupin and soon was hit accidentally by Snape's sectumsempra spell which cut his ear off.

George had come back, weak, and was laying on the sofa bleeding thoroughly when you had noticed the commotion from the kitchen..

You let out a gasp, “George..” You say softly, rushing in from the kitchen. You had stayed at the Burrow with Molly.

George slowly moves his head to look up at you, offering you a smile albeit an incredibly weak one.

“Oh Georgie..” You whisper out quietly, nearly down at his side as Molly runs her fingers through his hair.

“How- how are you feeling?” You ask, resting your hand on his arm.

It takes him a moment to reply, “..Saint like..I’m holy Y/n..I’m holy..you get it?” He says, pointing at the hole where his ear was.

“You- you are pathetic George Weasley..” You softly say with a small smile, leaning your head onto the couch.

George chuckles softly, wincing as Molly carefully starts to clean his wound up. He looks at you gently, his chest still rising and falling irregularly.

”Yeah, I just wanted to make you smile is all.” He says, watching you lean your head on the couch by him.

You smile at his words, he always found a way to warm you up no matter the situation, “Get some rest George..” You whisper out, leaning up to place a kiss to his forehead as you watch his eyes slowly flutter shut, sleep overcoming him.

George slowly nods before falling asleep within minutes. As you continue to watch him, Molly pats your shoulder.

”He’ll be fine, dear. I’m surprised that boy is still so cheeky, given the circumstances.” She says, giving you a smile.

“Yeah..” You whisper out, finally moving from your position as you feel everyone else start to move and shift a bout.

Some hours pass, you sit leaning against the couch, watching George’s chest rise and fall as he sleeps.

George slowly stirs a few hours later, a small groan falling from his lips as he opens his eyes, the first thing he sees being your face.

”Hey..” He mutters tiredly, a groggy smile on his lips.

“Hi..” You say, a tired yet genuine smile on your face, reaching for his hand to lace your fingers together with his.

George smiles a little as you gently intertwine your fingers with his, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

”How long have I been out for?” He asks quietly, his eyes still on yours.

“Just a few hours..” You say, eyes wandering from his to the bandages wrapped around his head, “How are you feeling?”

He groans softly, slowly sitting up into a more upright position, pulling your hand gently into his lap and gently tracing his fingers along the back of it.

”I feel like I’ve been hit full force in the head with a bludger. Apart from that, I’m good.” He teases lightly.

“Right..of course..” You say with a giggle, looking up at him with a smile.

George gently grins at the sound of your laughter, his eyes fixated on your face as he continues tracing his fingers along the back of your hand in his lap.

”You look beautiful, love.” He says quietly, tilting his head to the side slightly to look at you properly.

“Thank you George..” You whisper out, “You look quite…holy..” You say with a grin.

George laughs out softly, rolling his eyes playfully at your comment before gently poking your side with his free hand.

”Oh shush, you know you’d prefer me with both of my ears.”

“Oh..I’m not too sure about that Georgie..” You say with a smile, “The one ear thing is really starting to grow on me..”

“Oh yeah, you find it attractive, do you?” He asks, grinning at you as he leans closer to you and lowers his voice. His grin only grows wider as he notices your cheeks beginning to turn a light pink.

“Oh definitely..” You say with a giggle, eyes twinkling as you look at him.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, Harry sits awake nearby, thinking about how in his fourth year George was too scared to ask you to the Yule Ball, so you asked him yourself.

He remembers the moment exactly, the way George’s face turned as red as his hair as you leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek.

He remembers the way Dean, Lee, and others had teased and made fun of the Weasley twin.

He remembers in his first year when George was too afraid to even speak to you when you would approach them, he would stutter and look away awkwardly- not knowing how to speak to a girl, let alone his crush.

Harry remembers the first time he saw you two in Hogsmeade, your fingers laced with George’s, a huge smile on his face as he looked down at you.

In Harry’s eyes you two were to get married, to survive the war and spend the rest of your time together.

In George’s eyes, you were the witch he wanted to stay with for the rest of your lives.

.・。.・゜✭・.

notes: yay! first fic in the books, hoping to put more out soon- sorry if it wasn’t too good! please send in any requests!

[luveline]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 —send me a shy!reader request for any character (with a plot) and I'll write a >1k drabble

shy reader who really just wants to lie down on the couch with james, but remmy and sirius are over

luveline's 40k party ☆ thank you for requesting ♡ fem!reader

"It's, like, exploding eyeliner or something. Every time I use it I look like I've cried my eyes out," Sirius says. 

You linger behind the doorway, hands curled into your shirt behind your back. James, your boyfriend, is lying down on the sofa. You'd been sitting with him until you needed to use the bathroom, and while you were gone his friends came home. 

You can't complain —it's their house, not yours. But you don't know what to do now.

"I thought you changed to pencil," James says, stretching like a cat in the sun, the firm lines of his chest rippling. You're shy, but you can't lie to yourself. James is a catch.  "Like, the kohl stuff." 

"It's hard to put on."

"And take off," Remus says, having splayed beside Sirius on the single armchair. 

Sirius pulls Remus' thigh further into his lap. "So I decided against it for Remus' sake." He must have a better sixth sense than the other two, turning in the chair to smile at you. "Hey, doll. You okay?" 

"I–" You beg yourself not to stammer. "M'okay. How are you?" 

James beckons for you to come in as Remus answers, "Don't ask him, he'll never stop complaining." 

You obey James' ask and try to sit where you'd been before at his feet, but he catches your waist and pulls you down. Your back across his hips, his arm over your stomach, it isn't intimate in the dirty sense but intimate all the same. Your cheeks catch fire instantaneously. 

"I'm quite good, actually," Sirius says. 

"Yeah?" You sound ridiculous. "What about you, Remus? Did you, um, did you finish your new chapter?" 

Remus grins at your remembering. James' hand squeezes approvingly, clearly pleased as well as Remus delves into an explanation of why his novel seems to have stagnated. Your stiff as a rod despite James' nice handling while you listen. You want to lie down with him, your eyes heavy, the light outside fading as the boys talk, but appearances hold you back, even as Remus dissolves into Sirius side like wet paper and kips. 

"You okay?" James asks, hand climbing up to just below your chest. "Lie down with me." 

"I don't want to be, you know, rude," you whisper.

James doesn't laugh nor tease you. "It's not rude, lovely, this is my house, and you're welcome to do what you like when you're here." He's whispering too, careful not to talk louder than the TV. "If you want to lie down, you can. He won't care, and it's not rude. I'll cover you up like a blanket anyway." 

James sits up a little and pulls you gently to his front. You put your legs up next to his and lay back, giving in to the lul of his warm skin seeping through your shirt, the coiled muscled of his forearm where he squeezes you up tight to his chest. 

Sirius looks over at the movement. "We're just cushions, mate," he says to James, grinning. 

James kisses the side of your head with palpable pride. "That's all I was made to be," he says happily. 

[cheriladycl01]

Kinktober 05/10/2024 Sebastián Vettel - 69

Plot: Sebastian always gets so frustrated racing Mark Webber, but he always has you to come home to and relieve those frustrations.

Warnings: Kinktober SMUT 69ing, oral (both m and f receiving), 18+ Minors DNI

It was just another one of those races. Where team orders didn’t come in and he was left riding behind Mark Webber. He had to share a podium in P2 with Mark and Lewis.

He was angry, as he was fighting for a championship and the way Mark was driving, in his opinion was unsafe and deliberately trying to cause a crash.

And too top the race weekend off, you were even there. You weren’t there to watch his half arsed podium celebration. You weren’t there to congratulate him after the race and you weren’t in his hotel room afterwards.

Admittedly it wasn’t you’re fault, you also had a very demanding job just like your fiancé and that meant you couldn’t be at every single race even though you tried.

So after a lousy night in the hotel where he was moping about, he eventually got on his flight back to Switzerland and made the drive from the airport to your shared home.

“Schatz? Are you home?” He shouted into the warm and cozy place he called home. He didn’t know why he asked if you were home as there were telltale signs you were.

The warm fireplace crackling away, the half drunk glass of red wine on the coffee table, your book left open on the sofa and the blanket in a scrunched up ball as if you’d just gotten out of your blanket cocoon that he always seemed to find you in whenever he came home to you.

“Ahhhhh Seb!” You cry running from another room and towards him. You pull him into a big hug, standing up on your tip-toes to kiss his lips.

“Mmmmm I missed you and your warmth” he said nuzzling into you, refusing to let go.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there this weekend, I know you’re frustrated with the team and how the race concluded, but you still got some good points, you took fastest lap and you’re still leading the championship” you smile kissing along his jaw, and you slowly feel some of the tension release. He had a nasty habit for unconsciously grinding his teeth, but as you kissed across his jaw you felt that relax.

“Mmmm im still kind of frustrated though Meine Taube” he admits, his thumbs rubbing circles on your clothes hips as he looks down at you with that look in his eyes that you know all to well.

“Not tonight, you look tired. Let’s head to bed, hmmmm? And tomorrow I’m all yours” you try convince him it’s better for him to sleep all the tension off tonight and you guys once refreshed and awake tomorrow can have fun.

“I haven’t seen you in a week and you’re denying me?” He asks with a smirk and a raised eyebrow, an almost glimmer of a challenge in his eyes.

“Because you must be tired from the race and the flight” you say softly.

“I’m never tired for you. All I want right now is for you to sit in my face” he says nipping at your earlobe before looking over your flushed cheeks.

“Wanna taste you” he says as he starts to nip away at your jaw as his wondering hands starts to unbutton the jeans you’re wearing. Once the button and zip are undone his hand dips down to rub your clit through your underwear, where he can already feel a wet sport forming.

God he was hoping they were light grey or light pink. Something that showed the wet spot as that always made him that little bit harder. He loved to see how he made you feel, as it was all him.

“Argh Seb, please” you beg looking up at him with those big eyes of yours that could have him melt on the coldest day of the year.

He moves you both to the floor in-front of the fireplace, as he pulls your jeans off slowly kissing down your legs as he unveils more and more skin and then finally your jumper. You shiver at the cold a little, before the cracking fire can be felt on your back.

Seb starts to strip off himself before he lays down on the fluffy fur rug that of course he’d strategically placed in-front of the fireplace for moments just like these ones.

“You know where to go” he says and before you know it you’re climbing on top of him, facing away. You hover over his face, one hand holding you up on the rug for support while the other starts to rub up and down on his hardened length.

As much as Seb loved it, you hated putting your full body weight on his face when he asked you to sit in it. So you’d always hover and wait until he pulled you into a position he was comfortable at. His hand came up to your hips and in seconds you were pulled down so you were flush against him. At first his nose was pushing against your clit until he moved forward so it was more his chin that was putting pressure that.

Soft moans left your mouth as his tongue started to dip in and out licking wet strips up and down and doing exactly what he knew you liked.

One you were comfortable enough to relax your weight onto Seb some more your own mouth came down around his top sucking lightly on the head before licking up the underside where the strong and prominent vein was. You licked over the slit a few times, little delicate touches here and there before your mouth started to fully get you work.

With Sebastian it always felt like an exercise because of his sheer girth. Your mouth struggled to fully let him in without some teeth scrapping against him, but it’s something with you that he’d come to love as you were so careful and for the most time it was all your mouth and tongue doing the work but when you moaned or lost concentration he’d feel that slight little scrape that had his hips thrusting up and forcing his dick further into your mouth.

You were accustomed to this kind of love with Seb, he would normally be too tired for full on sex when he came back from a race weekend after a long flight especially if it was in Asia or America and the time difference was as messing with him. So you mouth and throat had slowly started to learn what worked best for both his pleasure and to make you still be able to breath and not have that gag reflex.

His tongue was darting in and out of you, his hands still holding your hips, but you’d slowly started to rock against his face to get some more friction and you could practically feel his smirk against you.

“So beautiful, I could eat you up all day everyday. The only meal I want to enjoy” he groan into you a long and loud moan coming from you thanks to the vibrations of his low and raspy voice.

The feeling shot straight up your spine and pooled into your stomach a familiar sensations looming.

“Seb, fuck please” you said as you came up for a breath, your hand accounting for the sensations he’s lost from your mouth as your fist him speeding up your movements. Once you’ve got enough of a break your mouth starts again, your hands focusing on keeping pressure on the base squeezing firmly once in a while making his hips thrust up and throaty moans come from him.

The tension is building for both of you. His hips getting more frantic and the fact that your thighs have tightened around his head and your body basically laying on top of him, your boobs pressed up against his stomach.

“Oh Leibling” he moans into you and your vision is clouded, as that tight coil in your stomach unravels and your releasing, Seb doesn’t waist a chance to lap it all up, the pressure causing your legs to shake.

Your teeth accidentally scrape the underside of his dick, causing his to release into your mouth, his release hitting the back of your throat so suddenly you nearly choke.

Your mouth comes up, a string of saliva mixed with cum connecting the two of you as you swallow what was left in your mouth, the salty taste sitting with you.

You climb off of him, turning round to see the bottom half of his face covered in a sheen that was most definitely from you.

“How about a shower, and then bed?” He asks with a blissed out and relaxed look on his face. And you can’t help but feel a sense of overwhelming love that you have from this man, and can’t help but be grateful that you are his sense of safety and relaxation.

“Mmmmm I think I’d like that” you smile and nod.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[vivwritesfics]

Maybe a Lando and Oscar one where one of them is getting more attention and the other gets jealous?

Ugh I loved doing this - keep sending em in!

Lando was a cuddler, Oscar was not.

It was easy to find Lando on the couch, holding Y/N close as they watched television. It was cosy and comfortable, but far too warm for Oscar.

Or at night, when Oscar went to bed before them. Lando would be gaming or streaming and Y/N would be working when Oscar went to bed. He'd wake up before them, too, wake up to Lando holding her close.

No cuddles for Oscar, though. He was alone on his side of the bed.

At first, he didn't mind, assuming it was just an off day. He'd get all of the attention he needed tomorrow.

But no, it was still Y/N and Lando, with Oscar on his own.

"Hey, Osc," said Y/N as she walked past him. Stopping, she kissed him quickly, not long enough for Oscar to wrap his arm around her (although he tried).

Oscar was left, standing like a lemon as he stared after her.

Even when he was alone with one of them, Oscar still didn't get much attention. When they were at the races, Lando would give him a kiss and walk away, leaving him standing there, waiting for more.

But Oscar was getting sick of it. He was getting sick of feeling not as loved as Lando or Y/N.

When he came in after a run and they were sat together, Lando laying on the sofa and Y/N sitting on his lap, the straw finally snapped.

"Lan, stop!" Y/N cried through a laugh as Lando tickled her sides.

Oscar said nothing as he walked past them, into the kitchen. Lando stopped tickling Y/N and looked after his boyfriend. His boyfriend who was definitely tense.

"Oscar? You okay?" He shouted after him, furrowing his brows.

Still, Oscar said said nothing as he grabbed Greek yoghurt from the fridge and sat on the armchair. The armchair they never sat on because it was a singular chair, a lonely chair.

"Oscar? What's up?" Y/N asked as she climbed from Lando's lap. "Osc, baby, what's the matter."

Oscar licked his spoon.

"Oh, come on, Oscar, stop being a baby."

Because only a baby would be this desperate for attention.

"You guys keep cuddling without me," he mumbled under his breath as he scraped the bottom of his yoghurt pot.

"You're gonna need to repeat that, baby."

Oscar put his yoghurt pot down on the table beside him. "You guys keep cuddling without me," he repeated, his voice clear as day.

Lando laughed. He actually laughed. "This is all about cuddling? Seriously?"

The Australian shrugged his shoulders. "Well, yeah! You two act like a couple without me and I'm sick of it." He crossed his arms over his chest and pouted like a puppy, his hair falling in front of his eyes.

"Oh, Osc," said Y/N as she pushed his hair out of his eyes. "We thought you didn't like cuddling."

"I guess sometimes it's too hot and it's kinda stuffy but I don't hate it."

Y/N leaned in, gave him a kiss and pulled him from the armchair. She led him over to the big sofa and sat him down in the corner of the sofa. Lando leaned against him and Y/N leaned against Lando, Oscars arm around both of them. "This better?"

"Much better," he said as he kissed the top of Lando's head.

[atrirose]

💭🐰 — HIDE MY BOYFRIEND IS HERE , 駅

synopsis : pranking them by saying my boyfriend is here.

ft. enha ( all members ) ✷ fluff tiktok m.list wc. 0.5k warning. none © atrirose

HEESEUNG : “heeseung hide my boyfriend is here quick” you say frantically pulling him, he just looks at you. dead in the eye and says “let them see how they don’t stand a chance” he says as he pulls you back on his lap “let him see” he says as he smiles and kisses you nose. “ugh i can’t prank you” you said as you rolled your eyes. well it’s true you can’t help it that heeseung is super confident, not only on himself but you as well, he just knows he is irreplaceable. “bet he is ugly though” heeseung says you still in his lap as he does his work on his laptop.

JAY : “jay babe can you hide my boyfriend will be here in a minute” you went into the kitchen where he was serving pasta in two plates, it was beautifully decorated, too beautiful to even eat “jay that’s soooo good” you said as you reached to grab a plate but to your dismay he took the plate from you “im sorry this is for my girlfriend” he said smirking “but i am your girlfriend” you said pouting “are you? last thing i heard is your boyfriend was coming and i needed to hide” he went and set the plates on the table “i was just joking” you said as you hugged him from behind “you are the only one for me, just look at you? can anyone compare to you? no! you are my favorite male wife” jay was caught of as he choked on air “you are crazy” he said as he turned back so your hands were wrapped around his waist “too beautiful” he said as he kissed your eyes and trailed kisses to your cheeks.

JAKE : he fell down the sofa as you jolt in surprise “wait- what’s wrong babe are you okay” he said as he looked at you “nothing is okay, you need to hide” you said as you try to pick jake up “why am i hiding?” jake said as he got back on the sofa “my boyfriend is here” he looks at you with wide eyes “WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME OMG WHERE DO I GO? the closet? or the bathroom? but what if he wants to use-” he pauses when he heard you giggle, realization hits as he pouts, he is relieved at the same time that he doesn’t need to hide and is THE BOYFRIEND “you know even if you get a boyfriend, i bet he can’t kiss better than me, also i make you cookies” he says as he hugs you laying his head on your shoulder “yes jake you are the best” you say patting him. “don’t prank me again, at least not something like this”

SUNGHOON : “my boyfriend is here hide-” smack, before you could finish your sentence, your face was met with a pillow “ow what is wrong with you” it didn’t hurt but it was a surprise “what’s wrong with me is i don’t care about your boyfriends, it’s my house and you are mine, im not hiding from anyone” he says as he kisses you, hands stroking your hands “will you marry me” sunghoon said looking at you with doe eyes “hoon we have been through this, you can’t ask me to marry you everytime we kiss” he kisses you again “but you are so beautiful, i think i might go insane”

SUNOO : “sunoo get up you need to hide my boyfriend is here” you try to wake up your very sleepy boyfriend just to prank him, he rolls over to hug you “noo” he whined “get up he is here sunoo” you try to push him over. he gets up sleep still in his eyes “where do i go, is he big? can i fight him if i get caught?” he sat on the bed as he babbled on, you got up and pecked his lips “you are such a loser” he wrapped his hands around your waist as he fell back on the bed “let’s worry about him later, we need our beauty sleep” he said as you both cuddled to sleep.

JUNGWON : he was busy with his textbook and you were bored so why not prank him right “jungwon hide my boyfriend is here” you said as you barged into his room, he didn’t even flinch, too used to you busting into his room at anytime “say what” looks at you with wide eyes and a confused pout “yeah hide hurry” you said motioning him to move “hmm” he looked at you judging your whole ancestry, a disappointed sigh left his lips “yn you can never have anyone else other than me, there is no way anyone can treat you half as good like i do” he said as he went on doing his work “besides i’m sure they wouldn’t have the patience for someone like you” he said giggling as you hit his shoulder “meanie” he looked at you as he said “you belong to me”

NIKI : “niki hide my boyfriend is here” he looks at you with the most dramatic gasp leaving his lips “oh so this is how it is, so now i’m one of your hoes, is that it huh? i even gave you half of my twix” he said as you tried to control your laughter, he got up and sat near you “you know you should hide, my girlfriend is coming” he crossed his arm as he observed you “really? okay i will go” you got up but were pulled back by him, he had his arms around your waist “stop we are going to have our daily cuddles now” he said kissing your whole face as you giggle “didn’t you tell me to leave” his hands stroked your hair “i was joking, by the way if you did get a boyfriend, will i be the side chick? no right because i obviously am your first man” he said as he hugged you tighter “you are such a dork, i’m too occupied with you, no way i can get anyone else, but yeah you probably will be my main”

[kiestrokes]

Day 7: Muse | NSFW

▸ Idol: Kim Namjoon of BTS ▸ Rating: NSFW. Mature (18+) Minors DNI. ▸ Genre: kind of active WIP (I haven't touched it since 2022), smut. idol AU. ▸ Vibe: Joon's muse, codename: Indigo just isn't inspiring him with their usual proximity, they both just needed a little more tonight. ▸ Warnings: language, pet name: baby.

Sexually Explicit Content: semipublic sex (Joon's locked studio), bladder control, sexual intercourse (penis in vagina), condoms used, squirting, teasing, bratty behavior, kissing, partially rough sex, everyone is consenting this is still a WIP and missing that flow/consent talk.

🗝️ Note: Has not beta-ed by me or anyone else. THIS IS A WIP! (it is wipmas) It is not complete; this is very much a rough outline/first run through. I left a random note in because it made me laugh.

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols depicted below.

「 25 Hours: Hard, Soft and WIP-mas Masterlist 」

Eyebrows furrowed as you scan the various cubes displayed on the screen of your phone. Where the hell do the last two sevens go? You think to yourself, as Namjoon lets out his twentieth sigh of the evening.

Glancing up from your sprawl on his sofa, you note that he hasn’t moved much since the last time. Headphones on, dark hair pushed back by them like a headband, several of his silver strands catching in the dim studio lighting.

“Joona?” You call, eyes and focus going back to your frustrating game of sudoku.

Suddenly Namjoon pushes away from his desk, tossing the headphones onto the abandoned keyboard and spinning around to face you. 

“It’s not working, I’ll just take you home.”

He sighs, again. He leaned forward to brace his elbows on his knees and cupped his face in his hands. 

“Okay, let me go to pee first.”

Tossing your phone onto the couch you stand to slip past Namjoon to escape to the bathroom. 

He catches your waist suddenly, “Wait, can you-can we...”

Namjoon looks up at you with tense eyes, his jaw clenched in a way that gets you worked up.

“Can we what Namjoona?”

You laugh lightly, stepping between his open knees.

Namjoon tips his head back to look up at you through lidded eyes, his lips parting to let out a breath as your fingers move to grasp his jaw.

“You know what.”

Namjoon’s hands are drifting up your joggers with purpose, hands squeezing your thighs as he ascends to cup your ass. 

Biting back your smile, you dig your thumb under his jawbone to angle his face toward yours as you dip to brush your lips over his.

“I don’t think I do, Namjoon.”

He lets out a growl snatching you down into his lap, “you can pee after I’m done with you.” 

“But it’s going to..." You huff as he settles you in his lap, setting your back against his chest.

“I know.”

Namjoon begins to shuffle off your pants and pulls himself out of his, fumbling for a condom in his jacket pocket that's hanging out the back of the chair. Once the condom is on, he's thrusting up into you, before you’re prepped.

You cry out at the smarting, pleasurable feel of his girth opening you so intimately. Namjoon swallows your cries as he pulls your mouth to his for a kiss 

“I’m sorry baby, I just need this” 

You nod and he sits back with you in his lap, causing you tiptoe in an attempt to start moving.

“Joon I can’t touch.” 

But he’s already blissed out. A hand under your shirt on your ribs and the other cupping your hip, thumb resting on the back of it encouraging you to rock forward. 

“This is good.” 

You bear down on him swirling your hips, arousal stirring especially when he moans and clutches you to him.  

“Ah fuck,” his thighs bounce under yours as he ruts into you from below.

“Just like that!”

Laying back on his chest you roll your hips back and forth with a slight flex of your ass you’re able to pull him out and back in with a little bounce. Joon groans. Hands tightening on your body. 

“Fuck you’re so full, I can feel you.”

You gasp when he thrusts his member roughly along your bladder. 

“Oh,” heat flames across your cheeks, creeping up from your chest.

Namjoon groans, hand coming to pull your face to his for a kiss, but you don’t allow it. He lets out a low growl before you chuckle and let him kiss you. Moaning together, you urgently stroke him in and out of your cunt. Relishing in the feeling his body tightening beneath you. 

“Baby-" he pants, warning you that he’s close.

“I know, go ahead.”

You work yourself hard as he begins to thrust upwards. The hand that had been on your ribs skims up to grasp your braless breast roughly.

Joon’s moans increase, “fuck I love having you completely against me like this.” 

You nearly bite your tongue when his thumb and forefinger roll your peaked nipple. You arch against him.

“Baby,” Joon pants against the shell of your ear. 

You turn your face to meet his, “Joonie.''

You gasp, the orgasm coiling inside you unbearably. His other hand drifts down to stroke your clit. 

Nipples (leaving this mid writing note here because it's funny to me)

“Fuck!”

You cry out as Joon squeezes you to him, stroking your clit with a quick efficiency. The tension tightens up your body, both painful and pleasurable until it finally snaps. Aftershocks echo across your body, up your calves, and thighs, through your breast to the peaks of nipples. Soaking Namjoon’s lap, he is holding you in place as you struggle with yourself and your body's reaction. 

“Oh goddamnit,” you wail. 

Joon’s surprised laugh vibrates along your spine.

“How do you feel?”

“Worn out, and sweaty”

He laughs again and you groan at the feeling.

"Wait, don't move I figured it out."

© COPYRIGHT 2021 - 2024 by kiestrokes  All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be reproduced without written permission from the author. This includes translations.

[b00kdiary]

Stay With Me | Rhysand (II)

Rhysand x Plus size reader

Y/N gets hurt during a mission- and Rhysand is more than willing to be the one to take care of her.

Warnings: Mature themes (18+), swearing, blood and gore, and smut.

MASTERLIST - 1 and 2

PART ONE

PART THREE

"Cassian, for Cauldron's sake," I scowl, my hands weakly slapping against his broad, solid chest for the fifth time. "Will you put me down? I can walk-"

"Y/N, you have a dagger embedded to the hilt in your fucking thigh," Cassian grimaced, cocking his head down at me, his hazel eyes flaring as he glances down at my wounded leg, his strong arms holding me to his chest so carefully. "You won't be able to stand, never mind walk."

I grumble irate, looking away and dropping my hands back onto my lap with a pout. I hear Azriel chuckle softly, his tall figure following closely behind us as Cassian carries me through the House of Wind.

"Where- where's Rhys?" I ask, my head peeking over Cassian's shoulder, trying to see through the gaps in his powerful wings- looking for those stary eyes and a breathtaking smile. I wince when a sharp pain shoots up my leg, even if my mind is preoccupied with the fact Rhys is nowhere to be found.

"Now you want to know about Rhys," Cassian mutters under his breath and the passive-aggressive tone catches me off guard. I lift my eyes to his hard face, but he doesn't meet my gaze, his jaw locked and eyes staring straight ahead.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I demand, my eyes narrowing but Cassian doesn't reply, he doesn't even react. Instead, he stalks into the lounge, his grip tightening around my body as the fire blazes to life.

"Rhys is dealing with the remaining Hybern soldiers," Azriel clears his throat, coming to stand beside us, his eyes flickering over Cassian's face contemplatively. "He said he would be back as soon as he was done."

Dealing with Hybern, he didn't need to explain what that meant.

"Madja's on her way now," Cassian states and he doesn't give me a second to speak before he marches over to the plush, large green sofa situated directly in front of the fireplace, his movements stiff as he lays me flat against the cushions.

"Cassian, wait-" I frown, groaning as I grab on his arm as it slips out from under me, stopping him from pulling away. "What's wrong with you? You're being-"

"An asshole," He finishes, and upon seeing the hurt in my eyes and then the wound steadily leaking blood over the sofa, he sighs, his handsome face melting into a dejected frown. "I'm acting like an absolute asshole, I know I'm- I'm sorry."

"It's alright, I'm just surprised," I swallow, and relief fills me when his eyes soften, when the Cassian I know and love seems to reappear as he settles on his knees beside me, his large hands cupping mine gently. "I've never been on the receiving end of your anger, Cass."

"I'm not angry, just frustrated," He admits and when I raise a sharp brow at him, he shrugs, "You've been avoiding Rhysand for weeks, Y/N and I don't like seeing the two of you so at odds."

My eyes widen in surprise at his words, and I feel the scrutinising stares of Cassian and Azriel before me, their eyes tracing over every reaction and breath I make.

"I haven't been avoiding him," I swallow, gritting my teeth as Azriel slides a pillow under my right thigh, elevating the injured leg, "I've been busy-"

"Bullshit," Cassian scoffs, and I narrow my eyes at him when his grip on my hand tightens forcing my gaze to his again, "You've been avoiding him and we all know it, Rhys most of all."

"I don't- I don't know what you're talking about," I breathe roughly, and both the males before me share a disbelieving glance between them, one that makes me scowl. "Seriously, I don't- Madja, you're here!"

Relief, pure relief at the sight of the dark-skinned female, her spindrift hair in disarray and her brown eyes narrowing in disapproval at the dagger's hilt poking out of my thigh as she strode into the lounge.

"Thank you to whoever elevated her leg, you've made this easier for us both," Madja greets and Azriel nods unconsciously at her praise. "Let's see what the damage is."

Cassian's knowing eyes don't relent upon me but as Madja crouches on the floor, he rises, sighing as he lets go of my hand, letting it fall between us. I gnaw on my lip at the silence, but I manage a strained smile at the healer before me.

"Thank you for coming so quickly, Madja," I focus on my breathing as her delicate hands press around the entry point of my injury, her fingertips turning stark red immediately.

"You have a hunting dagger in your thigh, Y/N," Madja raises a pointed brow at me, and when I whimper, my jaw locking tight at the tender pain, her face melts into a frown. "I'm going to have to pull this out inch by inch and thread the skin together as I go."

"I hate Hybern soldiers," I mutter dismally, my head lolling back against the pillow and my eyes meeting the worn ceiling, counting the cracks one by one to calm the panic clawing at me. "Do it, do whatever you need to Madja."

I feel their eyes on me, all of them, but when I curl both my hands into steeled fists when I grit my teeth and clamp my eyes shut, I feel Madja sigh- and her hands come to that dagger.

I wish Rhysand was here.

That's the first thought I have, I'm not sure why. I picture his violet gaze and lazy smile and the sound of his laugh, warm and wonderful and somehow, I feel better.

Though it doesn't last long.

"What the fuck were you thinking?!"

A swarm of dark, furious power hits me, hits everyone in the room at the same time that violent, death-incarnate voice bellows out the words. I startle, my body jolting and my eyes snapping back open and moving to the entryway.

Rhysand- covered in blood.

Staining his hands and arms and torso and chest, as if he had ripped apart the males with his bare hands. Splattered across his neck and jaw and cheeks, as if he had been ferocious and merciless with his assault.

And the smell, it wasn't one soldier or two, no, it was dozens and dozens of them. All their scents, all their blood and gore and their fear spread over Rhysand like a second skin and all I could think was that he hadn't stopped.

He hadn't spoken or breathed or thought- he had just killed and killed and killed.

"What the fuck were you thinking, Y/N?!" Rhysand demanded again, his eyes as dark as midnight, his voice as terrifying as I had ever heard it as he glared at me, his chest rising and falling so fast.

"Rhys-" Cassian warns from behind me, but Rhysand can't hear him, I don't think he can hear anything over the roaring anger in his head. I see it in the way he marches forward, see it in every hard and brutal inch of his muscled and lean form the closer he gets.

"You got in the way, that soldier was coming for me-" He seethed, stopping at the back of the sofa, and my eyes blinked heavily as he clamped down two large, ringed hands onto the material, nails cutting into the material to calm his fury. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that I didn't feel like dealing with your whining when he stabbed you," I grit out, my voice as cold as ice, as cold as Rhysand's as I glared up at him, the anger distracting me from the burning erupting through my leg. "Forgive me for saving you, Rhysand, next time-"

"Next time?" He laughs, a cruel, awful sound and I fought through the fatigue, forcing myself to watch his midnight eyes narrow, to see his lip curl back to reveal his sharp canines as he towered above me. "If you think you're joining us on another mission again darling, then you're not as smart as you like to think you are."

"Rhys now really isn't the time-" Azriel stepped forward, his shadows dancing wildly over his shoulders, the tension and raging emotion in the room making them more chaotic. Rhysand doesn't look at Azriel, he doesn't look at anyone but at me- intense, consuming, powerful.

And I can't look away from him.

"Oh, bite me Rhysand," I snarl, my own canines flashing as I tilt my head up to his, my hair sticking to the sweat on my forehead, my heart hammering in my chest, and my whole body sore from the aftermath of the fight- but still I snarl at him.

"If the two of you are done quarrelling," Madja sighs, drawing us away from our heated argument and it's her words that remind me why we're here- reminds me of the agonising, throbbing pain now lancing through my leg. "I need quiet and calm so I can focus please."

"I'm sorry that you're being burdened on your day off with this, Madja," Rhysand breathes, and despite his voice quietening, every word was sharp and low, full of contempt. I grit my teeth painfully as Madja inches the dagger out of my thigh, so fucking slowly.

"Rhysand," I hiss, the cut of the razor-fine blade as it's eased out, accompanied by the burning light of Madja's magic making bile rise in my throat, "Shut up."

She drags it up another inch and I bite down on my cheek, metal and bitterness filling my mouth, coating my tongue, invading my senses, but it doesn't distract me from the pain.

"Now who's whining?" Rhysand taunted darkly, and I felt the feel of his shadows and starlight dancing around me, over me, laden with anger and frustration. I couldn't open my eyes, couldn't look at him, or speak to him.

Not as Madja dragged out the blade another inch.

"Rhysand-" I warned, my throat as rough as glass now, my hands clenching at either side, so hard my nails cut into my palms, carving crescent moons.

There was a lot of blood, gallons of it, and Madja's hands pressed down firmer, her strength astounding as she tried to staunch the blood flow, working her magic over my severed skin.

"C'mon darling," Rhysand purred, and I blinked my heavy eyelids open to see his violet gaze, dark and cruel and mocking, the beast in him rearing its head as he watched me. My eyes were like steel, and I let every atom of loathing I had for him at this moment show.

It was almost menacing, the look in his eyes, the blood covering his skin, the arrogance in his words.

"Fuck you-"

The words die on my tongue, they turn to ash in my lungs and all my anger vanishes, replaced by one thing- unbelievable pain. Madja pulls the blade free, and I feel it like a shock current through my entire being, so strong I gasp out desperately.

And Rhysand's whole demeanour flips, like a switch.

The anger? Gone. The frustration? Gone. The shadows and violence that had sullied his eyes? Gone.

All gone- replaced by something... scared? Yes, he was scared. He heard that desperate sound rip from my lips, smelt the blood oozing from me in waves, saw my face tighten with unfathomable pain and he was scared.

I saw it in the way his face dropped, paled, that arrogant smile vanishing instantly, a deep frown carving in its place. A worry so strong it creased his brow, sharpened his handsome face, and made his broad form turn unnaturally still.

"Rhys," I choke out his name, and it's that one word on my lips, that one name, his name, that has him moving in an instant. One second, he's towering over me from behind the sofa's back and then the next, he's knelt by my side, his face inches from mine.

"Shit, Y/N," Rhysand sighed, and I saw the hurt in his eyes as he flickered his gaze over me, tracing over every inch of my face, seeing my visceral reaction to everything Madja was doing. "Shit, I'm sorry."

"That's better," I laugh hoarsely, my eyes welling with heavy tears as I glance at Rhys, trying to focus on the night-blooming jasmine and ocean breeze scent of his skin, under all the grime and blood. "I hate when you use your High Lord's voice on me."

"Me too, darling," He manages a strained smile and I sigh when his hand comes to my face, brushing away my damp hair before moving to cup my cheek, his thumb smoothing over the tears slowly leaking.

"Nearly done," Madja mutters and Rhys glances to the side, his nose flaring at the sight of my blood soaking the cushions, his eyes predatory as he sees Madja's magic close the wound bit by bit. "There was some kind of poison coating the blade, it's resisting my magic, that's why it's taking so long."

"And why it's hurting so much?" I muse, blinking away my tears as I look at the healer, and her grim nod tells me all I need to know. "I really fucking hate Hybern soldiers."

Rhysand laughed, I felt the brush of his warm breath, minty with a hint of bourbon infiltrate my senses and when my eyes met his again, I let myself sink into the stars and constellations, let myself bathe in the feel of him.

"This is the longest you've looked me in the eyes in weeks," Rhysand mutters, and despite the teasing in his words, his eyes held a different story- a sadder one.

"Almost forgot how beautiful you were." He whispered through my mind, and I heard the yearning in every single word as it echoed through me.

"Always such a flirt," I say back, and the room is near-silent as we stare at each other, Rhysand's lip tilting at the corner as he watches me, "I'm sorry, Rhys-"

"Don't" His lips purse, his hand cupping my cheek firmer, forcing my eyes to him, to see the sincerity on his face, "Don't worry about that now."

I managed a small nod, smiling softly at him but the conversation, the conflict hung heavy in the air between us still. I had been avoiding him, like the plague, since that night in the cabin, since we did what we did.

"The poison's slowing down the healing process, I've done what I can for now," Madja says, but her voice sounds further away and it's only then I realise my eyes are fluttering closed, that my body is starting to melt into oblivion. "She needs rest."

I vaguely hear the sound of their low voices as they speak, but as the darkness starts to creep over me, all I can feel is Rhysand's thumb brushing my cheek, his touch unbearably soft and endearing, as if lulling me to sleep.

"Stay with me, Rhys."

A star-flecked hand runs across the expanse of my mind, adoringly, and I feel the distinct feel of his lips at my temple, lingering and firm, pressing a sweet kiss there before pulling away.

"Always, darling."

***

I sense him before I even open my eyes.

He’s erected a shield around me, I feel it ripple in response to every rise and fall of breath in my lungs, a shield of shadows and starlight, a shield of his very essence made to protect me while I slept.

I think it might have been healing me too- fighting whatever vile magic Hybern coated that dagger with, working to ease the pain that had been a forever presence burning through my thigh.

“You’re awake,” Rhysand’s voice greets me as I blink my eyes open, the room dim with Fae light and I smile faintly as the shield he made disappears, flickering out like stars around me. “How do you feel?”

A dull ache throbs through my head as I turn to the side, to where Rhysand sits on the edge of his chair- broad shoulders tense, arms braced on his powerful thighs and his beautiful face hard with worry.

Not a splatter of blood remained on him. Clean, regal, the Rhysand I knew.

“I’m-“ My voice splinters, dehydration making the air cut like glass through my lungs and as I screw my eyes shut, body wrecking with coughs, Rhysand’s immediately at my side. I winced as his large hand slipped under me, fingers curling around my waist to sit me up.

“Here, darling, drink,” His voice shook, but the command was still there, and I could do nothing but brace my weak hands against his corded chest, lips parting when he pressed a water bottle to my mouth, hands agonisingly soft as I slowly sipped from it.

A satisfied moan slipped from me as the cold water ran down my throat, and I felt Rhysand’s hand tighten around my body, fingers digging possessively into my flesh at the soft sound. I sighed as he pulled the bottle away, my weak body slumping back against the pillows behind me.

“Thank you,” I whispered and when my head lifted, meeting his violet gaze, my face softened at the concern in his face, the pain, hating every second of hurt I was in. “I’m alright, Rhys, just a bit weak, but I’m going to be alright.”

His throat bobs roughly and there’s a tense silence that seems to stretch on as he bows his head, his lean form sat on the edge of the bed beside me, his hands resting on either side of my hips- as if he couldn’t bring himself to let go, as if he needed to touch me to know I was really here.

I gnaw on my lip at the hurt twisting his lovely face, nothing of the arrogant and smirking High Lord I knew present. No, not at his darkening gaze stayed locked on my bandaged thigh, blood staining the fabric, nothing but the oversized linen shirt I wore covering me.

“I should have been paying attention,” He breathes, a ragged, awful sound and my eyes widen at the way his shoulder curves inwards as if he was physically carrying the burden of his guilt. “I should have torn that bastard to pieces the second I saw him near you.”

“Don’t Rhys, don’t do that, don’t blame yourself,” I plead sharply, my hand coming to his face, cupping his strong jaw, and lifting those starry eyes to me- hating that nothing shined in them, nothing but unshed tears. “I got in the way knowing what would happen, because I would rather it be me than you.”

“I should have protected you-“ He growls, teeth flashing, and I narrow my eyes at him.

“Don’t be an overprotective asshole, Rhys, I’m as much of a warrior as you are,” I raise a brow and for a second amusement danced in his eyes, tilts his lip just barely. I soothe my thumb across his jaw, smiling softly, “We protect each other, that’s what we do.”

He chuckles, and fuck, if the sound doesn’t make something warm and full fill my heart.

“I love it when you get all angry with me, darling,” Rhysand pressed his cheek into my palm, a roguish grin stretching across his face and something darkened his gaze, something molten as he stared at me, “It’s very attractive.”

“Always such a flirt,” I tease, but the breath gets tighter in my throat as Rhysand inches closer to me, as if some magnet drew us together, an unstoppable force that made it so hard for the two of us to look away.

My tongue darts out, wetting my bottom lip and Rhysand’s eyes drop to my mouth, and he’s getting closer, so closer that I feel every atom in me tense in anticipation of his lips meeting mine.

“Shit-“

I jump, Rhysand sucking in a sharp breath, the both of us so surprised that we spring apart- eyes flashing to the medical basket that appeared on the bed beside us with a soft thud.

“It seems Madja is reminding me that you need to change your bandages,” Rhys grits out through clenched teeth, and I would laugh at the ire on his face as he grabs the basket- if I weren’t blushing so hard, I could feel my skin burning.

I draw my hands to my lap, fiddling aimlessly with my fingers as Rhysand pulls out the vials and binds his long, nimble fingers, gracefully laying out the objects on the bed beside him, handsome face pursed with concentration as looked over the items one by one.

I stayed silent as he shifted on the bed, tugging back the comforter from my body, and I swallowed down the lump in my throat as his eyes slid down my form, calloused hands moving so surely as stretched my leg over his lap, fingers tugging at my bloodied bandage.

“I can do that, you know,” I mutter, my back tensing at the feel of his fingers moving across the flesh of my thigh, his eyes unwavering on my bare leg as he unwrapped the bind. “You don’t have to-“

“I want to,” He said simply, eyes glancing up at me through dark lashes and I saw the gleam, knowing every touch, every caress made something blaze to life in me- seemed to enjoy having that kind of power.

“Besides, it’s my turn to take care of you now,” He muttered roughly, and his tone, the grumble that purred through his chest, told me that changing my bandages wasn’t all he meant. “Just relax for me, yeah?”

He cocks his head, waiting for me to answer- and all I can do is nod, sinking back into the pillows.

There’s a long silence as Rhysand discards the bloodied bandage on the floor beside us, and I winced at the jagged scar that traced the inner part of my thigh- red and angry, small unhealed sections of skin still leaking blood, the poison actively fighting Madja’s healing.

“I should have made his suffering last longer,” Rhys panted, such terrifying, cold violence in his voice, in his eyes as he stared at that wound, and the room seemed to vibrate with the strength of his raging power. “I should have torn him limb by fucking limb for doing this to you.”

“You made him regret it in the end,” I said gently, remembering that Hybern soldier before me one second and then ash on the wind the next. Rhys curled his fingers around my other thigh, fingers teasing the skin, so close to where I wanted him. “We’re here, he’s not.”

“Right as always, darling,” His throat works and he watches, I watch, as his hand traces up my thigh, over my cellulite and stretch marks and as he curves his way between my legs, I keen, thighs inching apart for him.

I gnaw on my lip in anticipation as his thumb swoops back and forth, callouses tickling my inner thigh, so close to my core I can feel him brushing my underwear. My stomach coils with need and I know Rhys can smell my arousal, thick and desperate and strong in the air.

His nose flares, and I feel his power rumbling from him as if the mere smell of me was enough to have him trembling.

Another brush of his thumb, so close yet so far and my back bows, my core clenching around nothing, the pain in my leg gone now, overwhelmed by the wetness that seems to grow and grow between my thighs.

“Rhys,” I gasped, almost whining as my chest rose and fell like tidal waves, and he glanced at me with eyes like melted chocolate and raised one dark brow in a challenge, “Stop being such a tease.”

“Or what?” He crooned mockingly, I gasped when his thumb inched forward, barely grazing over the front of my damp panties, the pressure so hollow that it was there and gone in seconds. “You’ll find someone else to take care of you?”

I tugged my shirt higher up my stomach, satisfaction filling me when Rhysand’s smirk fell, and like a hunter with prey his eyes narrowed down on my exposed underwear, the black lace barely covering my pulsing cunt.

“So? Should I call Cassian in?” I managed to grit out, enough arrogance in my tone to hide the lust clouding my voice and Rhysand went still, “Or are you going to- oh-“

It was stupid, to taunt the High Lord of the Night Court so brazenly- but I was so fucking glad that I had.

Because one second his thumb was taunting the edge of my underwear and then the next, he had hooked it under the material- and ripped it off.

“This what you want, huh?” Rhysand muses hotly, fingers slipping past my wet folds almost angrily, and I moaned as his callouses rubbed harshly at my clit. “Goading me into touching your cunt, using another male to piss me off?”

“Rhys,” I whimpered, back arching as he circled the pad of his thumb in brash circles, pressing down hard enough that I could feel every single callous, centuries of battle training, deliciously scraping me. “Don’t stop-“

Rhys groaned low in his throat, and I could feel his attention washing over me like waves, pure male satisfaction on his face when he turned his hand, stuffing two fingers into me without warning.

“Fuck, fuck, Rhys-“

“You should see how tight you’re wrapped around me right now, darling,” He growled low, and I could feel my walls suffocating his fingers as he fucked them in and out of me, not even my slopping wetness enough to ease how I clamped around him. “You think you can take another?”

Another finger prods at my entrance and all I can do is lock my ankle around Rhysand’s back, sinking myself further down his fingers as a third digit joins- and the burn, it hurts so fucking good.

Rhys leans forward and my shaking hand finds purchase on his shoulder, curling around the flexing muscles, feeling every stroke of his fingers in and out, getting faster and harder now. I can’t stop the sounds that tear from me, my eyes clamping shut as his fingers stretch me, brushing my walls in a way that makes it impossible to breathe.

“Rhys, I’m close, so close-“ I gasp, and that confession seems to be like a personal challenge for Rhys, edging him on as he curls those fingers deep inside of me, toying his thumb against my clit with every rough jolt.

“Open your eyes, Y/N,” Rhys commanded, voice like midnight- his High Lord's voice and I had no choice but to rip my eyes open, to meet his burning, wild gaze, loving and hating the pleased grin he gave me. “Wanna watch your pretty eyes roll while you come around my fingers.”

I was shaking now, sweat coating my forehead and it took everything in me to not flutter my eyes closed, took everything in me to stare into his violet gaze and let his hand fuck brutally inside me- let him watch me.

He loved watching me, I saw it in his eyes, in his smile, felt it in how easily he clued onto how my body reacted- knowing how hard to press his thumb against my clit to make my back arch, knowing what angle to hook his fingers inside me to make me cry his name.

And as he shoved his thick fingers in until his knuckles inside me and hooked them up, he got his wish, got to see as that chord within me splintered to pieces and my eyes rolled back as I came.

“Rhys I’m-“ I cry out, black dots blurring my vision and my body writhing against his hand, trying to pull away as he still moved those fingers inside me, but he clamped down another hand on my stomach, fingers holding my flesh possessively to keep me in place.

“C’mon darling,” Rhysand cooed, his voice almost cruel, almost patronising as he fucked me through my orgasm, my walls clenching around his fingers again and again, my orgasm spreading through my thighs and stomach and hips like glass. “I’ve got you, your High Lord’s right here.”

I whimpered at the humour in his dark tone, my legs closing around Rhysand’s hand- a mixture of overstimulation from his touch and the filthy words he poured like honey into my ear.

“Too much, too much I can’t-“

He chuckled, like the prick that he is, but mercifully, his fingers stopped, hand halting inside me and I instantly sagged with relief.

I could feel Rhysand’s power thrumming around us, frantic and powerful as if blazing brighter at my climax, at seeing me fall apart. I winced as he slipped his fingers out from me, and he seemed to melt back into being unbearably sweet as he languished his hand along my thigh, waiting for me to catch my breath.

I blinked my eyes open, fighting the exhaustion that ran through me, rooted deep inside me and smiled at the sea of violet and stars that stared back at me.

“I don’t think that was the kind of care Madja meant, Rhys,” I breathe, my voice trembling as tendrils of my climax faded away and the grin that stretched across his face, it was fucking beautiful.

“Well technically I did change your bandage,” He cocked his head, eyes gleaming and only then did I notice the sheet of stars and moonlight wrapped around my thighs, a blanket of Rhysand’s power, iridescent as the night sky outside over my wound- protecting and healing.

“Thank you,” I giggled quietly, pleasantly amazed and the air in the room felt so light as our gazes met, his hand still caressing sweetly against my thigh. He must sense the words on the tip of my tongue because he inches closer, face bright with understanding.

“Rhys, what we-“

“Y/N!”

A tall figure bursts through my room door and I only see flashes of long blonde hair and two sets of wings before Rhysand shifts in front of me, his large body shielding my bareness and his face is beyond frustrated as he tugs down my top, until the material is scraping my mid-thigh.

“Are you okay?” Mor comes rushing in, oblivious to what she just walked in on, and I cringe as Rhysand purses his lips and shuffles back to give the female space as she practically launches at my side. “I heard what happened-“

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I chuckle uncomfortably, seeing the worry in her brown eyes and I smile when she wraps her arms around me, hugging me suffocatingly tight. “Mor, honestly I’m fine.”

“Rhysand’s been taking care of her,” Azriel muses quietly and I shoot him a scathing glare over Mor’s shoulder, seeing his lip tilt at the corner. Rhys rolls his eyes, but I can see the satisfaction in his eyes, that they knew.

Knew that he was the one that made me feel as good as I did.

And something akin to wildfire burns through my blood when I slide my gaze down his body, to the hard, long imprint of his cock straining against his slacks. I swallow at the sight; my mouth watering and I feel a brush of claws tease against my mind.

As if to say- later.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” Mor sighed, before plopping down on the chair by my bed. Rhysand sighed- a truly irate and defeated sound like he couldn’t believe our family had just walked in on us like he was getting very tired of all the interruptions. “When Cassian called me, I came as soon as I could.”

“Thank you, Mor,”  I smile, glancing at her to my side and my body tingles when Rhys pulls the comforter over my body, fingers brushing my breasts as he does so.

I don’t miss the smile he tries to hide.

“Speaking of me,” Cassian steps forward, an absolutely delighted grin stretching his face, eyes flashing knowingly between me and Rhys and my brows furrow when Rhysand’s face darkens like he wants to lunge at the male.

“Did I hear Y/N mention my name earlier?”

_______________________________

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Taking requests for all SJM men!

part 3??

[softbeej]

alastor cumming from just getting his ears touched by reader?

oh you may!!

Jazz & Liquor (Alastor x Reader smut)

“Ah, whiskey is your poison, I see? Mind If I have a glass? Always puts me right to bed.” Alastor asked, as you were curled up in the library with a scratchy record playing in the background.

“Be my guest!” You insisted, pouring him a healthy glass which he took with a wink before sitting beside you on the sofa.

“Reading anything interesting?” He questioned. He must be really sleepy; he always got a bit more touchy feely and talkative with exhaustion.

You shook your head no, closing the book and giving him your full attention.

“Just a old mystery novel, is all...”

He nodded, listening but clearly uninterested, “What brings you down here? You’re usually up in the radio tower at this time. Is everything okay?”

The attention was finally on him, and he visibly perked up at this.

“I’ve not managed to get much sleep these past few nights. Just wanted a little change of scenery, you see. Oh, how boring it can get up there all on my lonesome. You can visit, you know?”

You smiled, he was basically begging you to spend time with him. If you were to go up there, what would he even have you do? There’s only one chair up there - strictly his. There’s not even a sofa up there, it’s almost as if he specifically designed the room to deter anyone from loitering up there. You supposed, he could have you sit on his lap as he worked. Or he could have you just sit cross legged at his feet.

You almost shook your head to get rid of these thoughts, “Well, thank you, Alastor. I’ll certainly keep that in mind- Oh!”

With that, Alastor’s head was on your lap. He’d slowly been sinking into you as you were speaking, before his head just grew too heavy and landed in your lap. Almost immediately after he realised, his lazy eyes shot open, blushing and utterly embarrassed as he started blabbing a string of apologies at you.

You shushed him immediately of course.

“Al, Al, it’s fine! You sleep, you clearly need too...” You insisted as you gently lowered his head back down. He pulled his legs up on the sofa too, getting more comfortable. You scanned the room for a blanket for him, but didn’t want to disturb him.

Your nails raked through his hair as his eyes fluttered closed. Then, he purred as you continued. Your face reddened and you almost gasped.

“You like that? Feel nice?”

He nodded, “Mm...”

He probably wanted to downplay how much he liked it, but his involuntary purring clearly gave him away.

You kept scratching his head, moving closer to the base of his ears, where his hair changed into fluffy fur. His purring grew louder and rougher, giving you butterflies. His breath caught in his throat, and he let out a strange noise.

“Keep going? Feels... Good...” He said. Whatever butterflies you were feeling, he was clearly feeling tenfold, if you had to guess by the strawberry red blush covering his cheeks.

“Relax, Alastor... I’m here, relax...” You cooed.

You smiled to yourself as you saw his cock hard in his pants, straining the fabric and threatening the seams. Would he will it to go away? Excuse himself as he sorted his situation? Or just lay there seeing it through to completion?

His heavy eyelids fluttered open a little to watch you with blown pupils as you continued scratching, paying special attention to his ears now. You smiled as they flitted and twitched at even the lightest touch, and how he shivered in sync. You noticed he started to buck his hips up ever so slightly, as a nice wet patch of precum began seeping through the crotch of his pants.

Not like he cared, though. Instead he bucked his hips up harder, eyebrows knitting together as his tummy grew hot with arousal. With a final couple of rubs of his ears, he came hard right in his pants with an almost pathetic moan. His face relaxed, but his hips kept twitching involuntarily with aftershocks of the intense orgasm. The next thing you knew, you heard a deep breath and looked down to see him fast asleep. He’d have to deal with that mess in the morning, you thought as you drifted off.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter Pre-27] || [Chapter 28]

Pairing: Price x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2K cw: none Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: Just a cute little moment + us clowning on all the lads bc ofc

Chapter 27: Peace and Quiet.

When you asked John to take you away, him taking you on a whole boat was not what you had in mind.

Granted, he did take you to his home in Credenhill beforehand; a cosy two-bedroom row home, which was surprisingly well-furnished for a single man in his 40s.

After having dinner on Friday night with him (John is a surprisingly good cook!) and cuddling together on the sofa before ending the night in bed, late on Saturday morning he awoke you with brunch in bed.

You half expected a lazy Saturday... only for him to tell you that you were going on an adventure.

So you ended up down south, on river Severn, on a boat. No, not a goddamn rickety fishing boat; a bloody yacht. A small one, but one nonetheless.

That didn't stop him from wearing a fishing hat. Come to think of it, you very rarely see John without a hat, only indoors. But last night when he went to get you, he was wearing a toque... He wears those a lot.

Apparently, John is an avid fan of boating. And bought one a few years back.

"Was this just an attempt at showing off?" You teased him as you stood by his side, one of his arms wrapped around your hip as the boat cruised out to the mouth of the river.

"No, da'lin', would never dream of it." John replied with a cheeky grin.

"I feel like you're lying to me." You replied as you leaned against him, eyes locked on the beautiful view of the cityscapes as you sailed out to the sea.

"Not lying, just... embellishing the truth." He joked and nuzzled up to you, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck as he pulled you to sit on his lap at the command of the boat.

"Right..." You said sarcastically, feigning annoyance, before melting at the feel of his kisses, his nose nuzzling into your hair, his beard tickling your nape.

"Plus, maybe, perhaps, I was worried the lads were going to try and crash out little getaway..." He whispered as he kept dropping little kisses onto you. "Yeah?" You asked as you looked up and back at him.

"They know where I live... Simon does, at least. And I doubt he'd show up, but... he likes you a whole lot." John murmured and then started peppering kisses to your neck.

Shivering a bit, you chuckled. "And you don't share, do you?" You joked.

"Oh, I share. But you asked me to take you away, not to bring 'em with." He quipped with a smirk on his lips.

"Haven't seen you share yet, so my point still stands." You retorted as you narrowed your eyes playfully at him.

"Oh, is that how it is? You're a 'need to see it to believe it', type of person?" He joked and rubbed his lips against the shell of your ear.

"Mhm..." You replied as your eyes closed, leaning back into him, feeling his displays of affection.

Your hands found his extended forearms as his hands controlled the boat on either side of you. You caressed his strong, hairy forearms, a weak attempt at returning the affection.

"How about you go sit out there... Feel the sea air, the water splashing on you..." He offered. "Lay out in the sun, get a bit of a tan?"

"John, we're off the coast in Wales. There's not going to be a tan." You told him playfully.

"Humour me, will you?" He asked you and shook his head, amused.

Nodding, you got up off his lap, kissing him on the lips one last time before you slipped into the cabin to get changed into a swimsuit and then back out.

You sat outside, where John could see you from the cockpit, and took his advice to heart, lounging on the foam chairs at the bow, enjoying the cool water splashing and the sun in the horizon. It was actually enjoyable.

You sneaked a glance at John as he drove the boat, smiling at him, before you decided to put on some sunscreen, just in case. John watched you closely and made a point of showing you how much he enjoyed the sight of you putting it on. At one point he even wolf whistled at you.

After a while, John slowed the boat down and moored it. You didn't think much of it, though the area you were in was beautiful. Nothing but the two of you for miles, the ocean rocking the boat nicely and the sun shining ahead.

John comes to join you, in his own swimming trunks, pulling you close, and peppering kisses all over your back, shoulders, nape... You find yourself giggling. There was something about John... Perhaps the fact he was older, but his attention felt so... nice.

"Is this what you wanted?" He asked. "Some good ol' peace and quiet?"

"Mhm..." You replied as you rolled over to face him. Then, you burst out laughing.

How were you supposed to not? The man had haphazardly lathered himself in sunscreen and was still wearing the bloody fishing hat!

"John, I can't-" You joked.

"What?" He asked in confusion, eyebrows raised.

"You look like a dad on vacation!" You joked and resumed your fit of giggles.

"You calling me old?" He asked in an exaggerated tone.

"No!" You said as you pushed yourself up onto your knees, running your hands over his face to spread the sunscreen more evenly. "You just..." You trailed off.

"I'll have ya know I'm still in my prime." He murmured, his thick beard covering his mouth with each word he spoke.

"You're also a dork." You retorted, feeling his hands slide up your thighs as he pulled you onto his lap.

"Oh? Would a dork have a pretty thing like you in a swimsuit in his arms while on his own boat?" He retorted before leaning close and peppering a kiss on your lips.

"I guess not." You replied playfully. "But the hat certainly doesn't help." You added and slipped it off his head. "See? So much better..."

"I happen to like my boonie hat." He told you as he kept peppering kisses on your face. "I wear it all the time when I'm in the field."

"No way?" You asked dramatically. "You mean you wear this when you're out there with your rifles and what not?" You asked as you lifted the hat off the seat next to you.

"Yes?" He told you, causing you to break into laughter again. "What? It's not that bad, is it?" He asked, feigning insecurity.

"No, it's just-" You trailed off. "First, Simon with his skull mask, then you with your boonie hat... What's next?" You asked.

"Kyle wears a baseball cap with the British flag more often than not." John replied, causing you to shriek with laughter.

"NO?!" You replied, incredulously. "No way?! He dresses so nicely out of uniform, you're telling me he also does the 'one hat' thing?"

"Absolutely he does. Have to ask him to take it off sometimes. It's like it's glued to 'im." He joked as his hands caress your body lovingly.

"What about Johnny?" You asked with narrowed eyes.

"Doesn't wear anything. Just that stupid bloody mohawk." He replied.

"Is it because of his big head?" You joked, which caused you both to break into laughter this time.

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

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[erwinsvow]

He recognizes you instantly—Sarah’s friend, the shy one who never muttered out anything more than a quiet Hi, Rafe when he would walk by the pool or pass the two of you looking for dessert in the kitchen.

You’re all dolled up, makeup decorating your pretty face and wearing a yellow dress that’s twice as short as anything he’s ever seen you in. You look out of place in his living room, laying across his couch, eyes fixated on the television which is currently playing some kid’s show. He watches you for a minute, listens to you hum along with the song playing quietly in the background of the episode, looks at your hands fiddle with the strap of your heels.

You try harder again, working to yank the clasp so it’ll free your ankle from its painful constraint, but to no avail. He hears you sigh and curse under your breath, giving up and stretching your legs out. You keep watching the show, what he now recognizes as Strawberry Shortcake, what Wheezie was watching before bed.

“Need help?”

You jump from your position on the sofa, sitting up instantly, turning to look at Rafe with your heart pounding. You don’t know where he’d come from, expecting Sarah who had told your earlier that everyone was asleep.

You look up at Rafe quizzically, confused. You must have had a few drinks with Sarah, the way you look all flushed and warm, breathing heavy and eyelids fluttering. He thinks you look like a deer caught in headlights.

“What?” You say it softly, like you’re embarrassed.

“Your shoes. Need help?”

He thinks normally he’d be a little annoyed to repeat himself, especially with one of Sarah’s stupid friends, but he doesn’t seem to mind as much right now.

“Oh, oh,” you let out, misunderstanding what he originally meant and sighing a breath of relief. You bring your thighs to your chest so you can access your ankles again and watch with those doe eyes while he walks around and sits down on the couch right next to you.

The way you’re bent right now, he can tell you’re definitely drunk, because he can see entirely too much—a glimpse of white cotton between your legs, all the smooth skin of your upper thighs and lower legs. Your strappy heels are white, and he lets himself reflect for a moment that they match your panties, which is ultimately a mistake, because once he starts thinking about that, he can’t stop thinking about it.

“It’s broken, I think.” You stare at your friend’s older brother—the one who you’ve never been alone with before. Sarah complains and talks about what their dad thinks, and you half-listen, agreeing only because she’s your friend, but you’ve never understood what’s been so bad about Rafe.

“I can get it. Let me try.” The way he says it, you believe him right away. In your tipsy state, you don’t think there’s anything he could say that you wouldn’t believe.

The two of you stare at each other for a few heartbeats. It feels like ages because he takes your ankle in his hand, moving your heels into his lap. He takes the first shoe gently, gentler than you thought Rafe would be with you, and pulls on the strap so the buckle comes undone. He slips the shoe off of your foot, letting it hit the ground with a dull thud. Rafe moves onto the next, pulling on the strap again but this time it hurts. You inhale sharply, foot almost pulling away from him, but his other hand on your ankle keeps you in place.

“Sorry, kid.” He tries again, with more care this time, until it loosens and finally frees you. That shoe falls too.

You want to speak but no words come out. Your heart is thudding loudly in your chest again, looking at Rafe while he’s looking at you, your ankles in his hands and his fingers rubbing over the spot your heels had hurt you.

“Thanks, Rafe,” you say quietly. You’re almost worried to let anyone else hear, to let him hear.

“No problem.”

You hear the clatter of a door opening, Sarah’s voice and what can only be her on the phone with someone, confirming that they were here to pick you two up.

“You ready?” You hear your friend’s voice call to you from the kitchen. You don’t want to move but you do, folding your legs back and standing up, sliding down your dress while you walk to the kitchen without even looking back at Rafe.

He sits on the couch with your discarded heels near his feet, wondering what the hell just happened and why he’s hard. He hears a door open and close while his eyes flick back to the television, still playing the episode you were watching.

Then the sound of another door—and you walk back in, settling right back to where you were sitting, now upright, shoulder to shoulder with Rafe.

“Not gonna go with her?” He questions, already knowing the answer.

You stretch your feet out over his lap again, getting comfortable and melting into the sofa, giving him an eyeful on purpose this time.

“Can’t go without any shoes.”

[beenbaanbuun]

puppy w/ park seonghwa

words - 2.7k

genre - smut

warnings - dog hybrid!seonghwa, dom!seonghwa, human!reader, sub!reader, brat!reader, collaring, marking, biting, ownership, name calling (puppy, toy, master), reader is in a dress, minimal anal play, fingering, seonghwa is jealous

——————————————————————————

“you’re a bastard,” you scoff as you storm into the living room, rage flowing through every blood vessel in your body. the smirk on seonghwa’s perfect face does nothing but make it burn even hotter and before you know it you’re right before him, fingers wrapping themselves around his purple collar and tugging him close. the smirk never fades, even when your hot, minty breath is assaulting his senses. in fact it only grows. “where are my fucking shoes?”

he chuckles, opening his mouth just wide enough for you to see his extrovert of a tongue lapping over his sharp canines. he knows the effect his tongue has on you, and the bandaid on your shoulder is proof enough that his teeth hold just as much pleasure. there’s a familiar twitch in your core and you have to squeeze your thighs together to get it to calm down. he’s a conniving little mutt for causing so much trouble on a night as important as this. it almost makes you see what your hybrid-sitter meant when he called seonghwa ‘evil incarnate.’

“now, now, pup,” he croons, his voice deep and smooth as he reaches out a hand to trail up your thigh. it sends a shiver up your spine quicker than you can push it away and the twitch in your tummy only gets more impatient. oh well, you think, with a bit of luck you’ll be getting laid by someone other than your hybrid tonight. with a bit of luck, you’ll find the man of your dreams. “that’s no way to ask a question, is it?” his fingertips walk themselves to the inside of your thigh, dipping just under the hem of your short skirt, “ask politely and i’ll consider telling you, hm?”

“or maybe you can just tell me so i’m not late,” you growl as you let his collar go and force him back against the sofa. the hand on your thigh thankfully slips away, but his amusement only grows louder. you groan, irritated that this demon of a hybrid is the only thing between you and a potential love life. “god, you’re so irritating!”

the hand that previously lay on your thigh goes to rest on his own, and you follow it with your gaze. his fingers push against the denim, the little indents in the material casting your mind back to the previous night. you’d ridden it so well, or so seonghwa told you. such a pretty pup, he called you, doing such a good job of being independent. he’d left off the words ‘for once’ but you know as well as he does that being independent isn’t really your thing. it’s why you have a hybrid, and why you’re so willing to take yourself to meet a shitty tinder date that you’re not even half as attracted to as you are your pet. you getting yourself off using his body is probably the most independent you’re going to get.

his fingertips shift higher on his thigh until they rest next to the zipper of the jeans. despite how thick the denim is, it does nothing to hide the bulge he's sporting; a bulge that seems to be growing right before your eyes. again, it was something he’d praised you for last night. the way you wrapped your fingers around him and got him to cum with nothing more than your hand. “good pup,” his words echo around your skull, “i told you you didn’t need me to guide you through it, didn’t i? so good making me cum all on your own.” the words had felt so good at the time, but now they’re just a nuisance.

you’re late.

“why should i care if you’re late?” two fingers begin to play with the brass button that sits just below his clothed navel. they tease the button hole with it, half pushing it through before pulling it back and tracing a soft finger around it. it has you salivating, knowing exactly what it feels like to be played with like that. his lithe fingers working their way around your tight cunt, barely dipping into your treasure trove before pulling back to tease you some more. it’s evil, he is evil. “i told you a week ago i didn’t like you going on this date. what do you think has changed?”

he tilts his head in a way that makes you so unbelievably aware of how condescending he’s being. it’s like he sees you as nothing more than a dumb pup in need of some guidance that obviously only he can give. he talks to you like a fool; like unless his words are slow and simple you won’t understand. it makes you feel small under his fiery gaze. small, weak and pathetic.

you gulp down the words that had found themselves caught in your throat, hoping that upon the second attempt to get them out, they’ll come much easier. they weigh heavy on your mind, and for a second, you wonder if this is really the right move to make. you could just admit defeat and just pick out another pair of shoes. you could tell seonghwa you’ll see him later and leave. you could find a way out of this so easily if you just tried.

the way he’s looking at you like you already belong to him makes you not want to bother.

“you also told me a week ago that you’d fuck every other man out of my brain if you had to,” you fold your arms petulantly, trying to hide the way your chest heaves as you make your final decision. you can go on another date with another guy on another day, right? its not like dean from tinder is the only man in the world? he’s not even as pretty as the one sitting before you right now. “i'm still thinking about other men, aren’t i?”

silence. just for a moment or two, but it’s long enough to make you aware of just how hard you’re breathing, how quick your heartbeat is.

“are you sure that’s the move you want to make, pup?” he purrs as he leans forward, an elbow on each knee to support him. “i’m not in the mood to joke about this.”

“i’m not.”

“joking?” he lifts an eyebrow, “or sure? because if you’re not sure then i suggest thinking before you speak,” in one swift motion, he stands and takes a step forward, towering over you in a way that has your mind collapsing in on itself. “if you’re not joking, then i don’t know what you’re still doing on your fucking feet, puppy.”

his hand comes down on your shoulder, fingers digging in slightly as he guides you down lower and lower. the wood of the floor is harsh on your bare knees, but as he stares you down like you’re nothing more than a pest, you realise your knees are the least of your worries. by the time the night is over, you won’t be able to think straight; seonghwa will make sure of that.

the hand on your shoulder slips to your throat, a single finger tracing upwards from your clavicle to your chin. it lifts your gaze, holding you so you have no choice but to watch him. his ears twitch atop his head as they so often to when he’s annoyed with you, the white fur catching the light beautifully. it’s really not the time to be admiring how soft his coat it, but credit where credits due; you worked hard on making him look so beautiful.

you worked hard on everything when it came to him.

“such a silly pup, thinking she can go out and meet whoever she wants,” he purrs as his sharp nail digs painfully into your chin, “all while her master sits and home and waits for her to come back to him? because that’s what i am, isn’t it; you might be the master in everyone else’s eyes, but we both know who’s in control here.”

his finger slips free from your chin, your spine relaxing the moment it does. you heave in a heavy breath, unaware of how shallow they’d become as seonghwa stared you down. the way your lungs burn with need as you take in breath after breath is deliciously painful. you can’t help but notice the way it has your pussy fluttering around nothing. it has you wondering what it would feel like to be choked, for his pretty hand to wrap around your jugular and squeeze until you’re gasping for breath. you could beg for it, but knowing him, it’d take a lot more than a few pretty words for him to comply.

“seong—” he tsks as you attempt to call out his name.

“i don’t know who that is, puppy,” he tail swishes menacingly behind him, like a dog about to pounce. you have no doubt that that’s very much the case; theres a few more buttons to push first, but you have no doubt that sooner or later you’ll be face down with your cheek pressed against the wood. you just have to push a little harder.

“master,” the word is nothing short of sultry as it drips off your tongue. you can’t help but feel proud of yourself as you watch your hybrid visibly stiffen before you. “i’m sorry,” no you’re not; not if the outcome of tonight is this, “i didn’t mean to upset you.”

his tail swishes again. just a few more buttons.

“i’m not upset,” he lies, “i’m just struggling to understand your thought process.”

“i wanted to get laid,” you answer swiftly.

“you could’ve just asked,” he rebuts as he trails a hand up to his neck to unclip his collar. “i’d have been more than happy to let my puppy fuck themself on my cock all night.”

his words are punctuated by the sound of the clip coming undone, then the jingle of the name tag as the collar slips free of his neck. his skin there always looks so beautiful, like it’s begging to be marked. seonghwa never lets you, though; he prefers you to do it in places that won’t be hidden away by the thick leather band.

“i wanted to get laid by someone other than my…” you trail off, the word you want to say right on the tip of your tongue. you know it’ll get you what you want, yet your heart still beats ten to the dozen at the thought of actually saying it. honestly, you’re not sure why it has you so nervous; it’s a fact after all. you take a deep breath. “my pet.”

his eyes darken, a sly smirk rising to his face. now you’ve done it; you’ve secured your fate. it was significantly less buttons than you thought you’d have to push, not that you mind. it’s less work for you and you get fucked in exactly the way you want to; hard and fast, like you’re nothing more than the hybrid’s bitch.

“pet?” he scoffs as he leans forwards to wrap his collar around your neck. “if i’m a pet, puppy, then you must be a fucking chew toy.” the action doesn’t surprise you one bit. seonghwa likes to see his name dangling prettily from your throat. he likes to hear the twinkling of the name tag as he clouds your brain with his cock. it’s just an extra level of possession that seonghwa craves.

you hear it fasten into place, and before you can even register anything else, you recognise the familiar bite of his fingers against your skin. he’s quick in his movements, shoving you around into exactly the position he wants as if you are really just that; just a toy for him to play with however he wants to. his hands are everywhere as he pushes your head down, lifts your hips up, arches your spine until the icy temperature of the floor seeps through the cups of your dress too. you don’t even register it as he pushes your skirt over your ass and slips your panties down in one swift movement. everything is just so quick, and within a few short seconds, he has you exactly where he wants you.

he kneels behind you as his hands smooth over your ass, kneading the smooth skin beneath his palms in a manner far softer than you’d expect of him tonight. as he spreads you open for him, you know you should feel exposed. you can feel the burn of his pupils as his studies your holes, twitching as he runs a finger over the tighter of the two. it feels strange, just like it always does when he plays with that hole, but as he hums in appreciation, you let yourself sink into the feeling. you can cope with strange when he’s whispering pretty things to you, letting you know how good you’re being, how nice you feel clenching around him. his lips come into contact with the bottom of your spine, just a few inches north of where his thumb teases you, and you let yourself relax.

that kiss is worth just as much as his praises.

“the lube is upstairs, puppy,” he sounds almost sad as he whispers those words against your skin, his thumb slipping away from your puckered hole until only a ghost of a sensation is left, “and as sad as it makes me, i can’t fuck you there without it. you’re just too tight, and i don’t want to hurt my toy, hm? not really…”

his words feel like a safety blanket with how soft they’re being spoken. you’re well aware of how condescending it’s supposed to be, his voice lilting in the same was it would when talking to a child, but something in you doesn’t care. you like it when he talks down to you like that.

“it’s okay though,” he continues as he presses two fingers up against your slickened pussy. they trail up and down your slit, going from your entrance to your clit, gathering your wetness on the tips. the sound is vulgar, squelching loudly as he plays with you. you're too far gone to feel any humiliation from it, reveling in the short-lived electricity that lights you up every time he bumps against your clit. he can’t help but chuckle as he watches your hips buck against nothing, “i still have this sensitive little thing to play with, don’t i?”

you nod feverishly against the floor, keening as he lets his digits play with your clit for a moment or two longer than he had before. the circles he rubs against it are slow, and don’t nearly have enough pressure to do anything, but that doesn’t phase seonghwa. in fact he seems to rather enjoy it as you pant against the wood, shifting your hips to try and get just a little more stimulation. he gives in for just a second, pushing his fingers up against your swollen bud just hard enough to fetch a moan from your lips.

but it's gone again within the blink of an eye, seonghwa purring cruelly at your misfortune.

“sorry, pup,” he says with no remorse as he trails his fingers back up to your glistening hole. he tests it with one finger, sliding it into you with little resistance. “tonight isn’t about you getting spoiled, though,” he retracts it until just the tip is buried inside of you. a second finger slips in beside it and he pushes them in until they’re buried to the hilt, “it’s about you learning your place,” he scissors them inside of you, relishing the way your walls push back against him, “you’ll cum if you’re lucky.”

he ignores the saddened whine that leaves you, instead turning his attention to where his fingers pump in and out of you. with how wet you are, he has no doubt that he’d be able to slip right into you if he really wanted. it’s what he’d done the previous night, barely pumping his fingers into you twice before burying himself inside of you and marking you up like a hungry animal. perhaps it was wishful thinking to assume that the purple marks that cover your shoulders would’ve stopped you going on that date. perhaps he underestimated just how ‘full coverage’ your concealer was. perhaps he should’ve just put his foot down and told you exactly how he felt about the date. oh well, he tells himself as he bends his fingers to press against that sensitive spot inside of you, forcing a moan from your lips.

he won in the end.