#and we all just sat there in silence as the credits rolled

[thebisexualmandalorian]

@jabberwockypie reblogged Blackadder Goes Forth and now I'm crying on my couch

[slxtarchive]

𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞. ᥫ᭡ 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬. you had been pressing chris’s buttons all day and one time he finally did something about it.

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭. can u please write a chris fic where the reader is being kinda bratty and trying to make him mad and well we know what happens from there. please. by anon

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. smut! dom!chris bratty!reader dynamic, begging, overstimulation sort of, rough sex, choking, name calling (bitch, whore, slut, ma, etc.) everything is ofc done with consent!! mdni 18+ !

𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬. sorry it took me so long! i had serious writers block omg.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭. to be counted.

at the moment you were driving around with chris to run some errands. him getting his license was a game changer for you guys so you didn’t have to ask matt for a ride everytime you needed to do something.

you didn’t know why today you got irritated by everything. whether it was how chris pressed on the brake or how he was breathing like he was running out of oxygen. everything had you irritated.

“wait till the last minute to brake why don’t you?” you remarked as chris almost gave you a hard attack when you thought he was going to hit the car in front of him.

he shrugged your comment off. “the car in front of me was the one that stopped abruptly, not me baby.” you rolled your eyes keeping your gaze on the view in front of you.

“i have to stop at cvs really quickly to pick up some stuff.” you mentioned. he nodded looking where the closest cvs happened to be. he turned into the parking lot and parked. you got out not saying another word. you didn’t wait for him to turn off the car or get out either.

“what’d you need to— ” he got cut off by the slam of the car door and he watched as you went inside. what the fuck? he thought, feeling himself become annoyed at your dismissive action.

he shook his head taking a deep breath before heading in after you. he saw you grab a few items and head to the register. “can i use your card? i’m not sure how much i have in my debit and i didn’t bring my credit card.”

chris raised his brows. “after you just slammed the door in my face?” he called out, looking at you as you stood in line.

you let out a strained breath. “are you gonna let me use the fucking card or not, i don’t have time for this.” your tone laced with irritation. chris picked up on that and laughed in disbelief.

he poked his tongue with his cheek as he looked down and retrieved his wallet before handing you his card. you took it from him and went to self checkout scanning your items and inserting the card. you grabbed the receipt and left without a word.

he squinted his eyes and clenched his jaw while he observed you walking away. he controlled his temper now but his patience was starting to wear thin. he didn’t want to get into an argument now but he figured when you both got home he’d mention how you were acting.

you both sat in the car, silence louder than usual. you saw the way chris’s temper was slowly starting to rise and you admitted, you liked it. he looked so good with his jaw clenched like he was holding back from putting you in your place.

you smiled at the thought while you looked out the window as street lights passed by.

you guys finally got home and you were quick to grab your stuff and bring it inside closing the door behind you, not leaving it open for him. you knew it was a shit move but the outcome would hopefully be worth it.

you heard the door open and close harshly. oh shit.

you took off your shoes and left them by the door before setting your bags on the counter. you made sure you looked unbothered when in reality you were slightly shitting your pants. you pursed your lips trying not to show any emotion but you couldn’t help it. you smiled tightly as you tried to contain your grin.

“what the fuck you smiling about?” he was pissed. “think that shits funny?” he gestured to the door. you gulped, noticing how the veins in his neck and arms were popping out.

you dismissed him by sighing loudly before getting a soda from the fridge and popping it. “i’m serious what the fuck is up with you and that shit attitude you’ve been wearing all day.” he took off his hat combing his hair back before putting it on once again. God you were already so wet.

you took a sip of your soda and leaned against the counter staring at the kitchen wall. “swear to god you’re gonna make me do some shit to you.” he muttered under his breath trying to calm himself down. you raised your browse at his threat then laughed under your breath before taking another nice drink of the pepsi in your hand.

he crossed his arms together waiting for a response. the black shirt that hugged his body so well had your pussy pulsing. “so you’re just not gonna say shit?”

you set the pepsi down and spoke up turning to look at him. “the fuck you want me to say, kid?” the attitude that was once again laced in your voice pushed his last nerve. you grabbed the can about to bring it up to your lips before you saw it fly to the ground.

he just slapped the pepsi out of your hand.

your jaw was practically on the ground as you also noticed the splashes of soda on your perfect outfit. before you could say a thing he was quick to grab and carry you over his shoulder. “are you a fucking idiot?” you asked in disbelief as you flailed in the air. “chris. put. me. down.” you tried to get out of his grip but he was too strong.

he walked you both to your room and let you go on the bed. he closed and locked the door. “you like seeing me mad and shit?” he stood before you. you propped yourself up on your elbows just staring at him with a smile on your lips. his nostrils flared at how you seemed to enjoy his response.

his final straw was when you muttered under your breath. “like you’ll do anything about it.” one of his brows rose. he nodded slightly at your words before tugging you by your legs to the edge of the bed. he then tugged your shorts down harshly before throwing them to the side. “wanna be a bitch with your bitch ass attitude?” he questioned, not expecting an answer you were sure. “k, then you’ll get treated like one.” he unbuckled his belt, the sight looking heavenly. he through it to the side before taking off his jeans and letting them pool at his feet before pushing those to the side as well. “you know to tell me when to stop, baby.” he nodded to you, earning a nod back.

he looked down at you as you were trying to pull yourself together from being completely manhandled. he then pushed your shoulder down so you were laying on the bed. he pulled down your panties swiftly before feeling your pussy. “this wet just from me taking off your shit, ma?” he laughed humorlessly before shoving his fingers in your mouth. you swirled your tongue over and over his fingers before he pulled them out. he then went back in immediately entering his fingers inside your entrance and thrusting them in and out at a mid pace.

he kept his actions going for a few seconds, earning whimpers and moans from your pretty lips. he then sped up his pace, aggressively pushing his fingers in and out. in and out. your body spasmed as you reached your peak incredibly fast. “h-holy shit, chris! gonna cum.” you grunted feeling your orgasm crash into you. officially the fastest you’ve ever cum.

he didn’t stop his antics. at this point, he was on your side holding you down by your stomach while he continued to finger the living shit out of you. the feeling of your impending orgasm creeping up on you once again. “fucking slut, trying to get me angry just so i could fuck the shit out of you, huh?” he chuckled, the squelching noises of his fingers and your own juices clashing together were echoing through the room as well as your whines.

“please..” you and no idea what you were begging for, him to stop, or him to keep going. it just hurts so good.

he bit his lower lip as he saw his fingers disappearing in and out of you. “please what? begging like a whore already. clarify what the fuck you want?” he continued to press down on your stomach keeping you from flailing around.

all you did was nod aggressively as you felt your second orgasm crash into you without any warning. your staggered moans shot straight to chris’s dick. you could tell when you looked at his boxers and saw his apparent tent.

seconds later, you hadn’t noticed what had happened until you heard chris speak through the fog in your brain. “holy fuck. squirted all over my hand huh.” he licked your release up with a ‘pop’ as he sucked on his fingers. “not done yet. need to fuck this brat attitude out of you.” he mentioned as he saw your limp and exhausted body.

he stood up and dropped his boxers down before climbing on top of you once again. he took his cock in his hand pumping it a little bit before speaking. “mm, i got a better idea to get me ready for this pussy.” he chimed. he leaned forward grabbing you by your throat and pulling you toward him. “come on ma, get my dick wet.” he demanded. you immediately opened up your mouth to take him.

you looked up at him looking for approval as you began to move your mouth over him. you saw his lips open up, agape at the sensation you were giving him. he threaded his hands in your hair straightaway making sure you could take all of him. “mouth of a fucking angel.” he praised quietly. the non-degrading comment had your arousal dripping down your thighs. “m’kay, that’s enough.” he pulled you off before placing a hand on your neck and connecting your lips in a chaste kiss. as quick as your lips connected, they broke apart when he then pushed you down onto the bed and choked you slightly as he lined himself up with you.

he pushed in all at once taking your breath away. he wasted no time before pulling out and slamming back into you; hand still on your throat. your jaw went slack as he was ramming into you over and over again, nudging your g-spot soo good your legs already began to shake. “always take me so fucking good. fuck—” he moaned, before removing his hand from your throat and placing both of his on your waist for more support. he then plowed into you with more force than before.

he hit new angles as he moved your legs all around before resting in the position where one leg was resting over one of his shoulders. “fuck chris. right there!” you wailed trying to get a grip on anything you could but settling for the duvet you were laying on.

he had a lazy grin as his own obtrusive groans and moans made their way to your ears. “fuck— tell me, who this pussy belongs to. come on.” he needed to hear it. he was so incredibly close, he needed that nudge. “come on, baby. come on my cock as you say it. go on.” he clenched his jaw trying to hold back his orgasm.

your legs shook and knuckles turned white as you found the strength to mutter — then scream, “y-yours chris! shit—” as you clenched around his dick, during your third orgasm of the night.

he groaned and let his own orgasm hit him. he painted your walls white as he did his best to continue thrusting himself in and out of you, trying to ride out his orgasm as well as elongate your own. he did his best while his thrusts started to slow. he was sweaty as his movements finally stopped, still buried deep inside you. he took off his hat feeling the air hit his sweaty face. he threw it to the side before combing his hands through. sweaty chris… fuck.

another round couldn’t hurt, right?

© slxtarchive

[leiswxrld]

𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬

pairings: felix catton x fem reader

synopsis: you hate felix catton because of how snobby rich and stuck up he is and when your best friend Farleigh tells you to come to saltburn with him, you have no choice but to say yes.

warnings: mdni 18+, smut, public sex, smoking, degradation + praise (slut,whore, pretty girl, beautiful), riding, pussy eating (r receiving), unprotected sex, period sex, enemies to lovers kinder (one sided).

a/n: guys I feel like I rushed this but I was trying to get this done and out by tuesday latest, felix is the definition of girl dinner.

credits: @cafekitsune @roseschoices line dividers ❥

It’s late, way past midnight sat in the garden hearing the crickets and sounds of birds chirping as you light a cigarette, taking a long drag before pausing and exhaling into the bristly midnight air, sat in pyjama bottoms and a tank top you feel the inclement cold slivering up your fingertips, giving you a case of raymond syndrome.

It’s quiet but peaceful laying against the green grass, taking in another drag from the narrow cylinder in between your lips, tasting the thick smog. You hear the sounds of heavy footsteps behind you, briefly turning over to see him before rolling your eyes and turning back to face the beautiful scenery in front.

Felix Catton. The owner of this beautiful home but it was safe to say you didn’t feel the same way about him, you felt absolute hatred towards him, you didn’t want to be here living it up with all the prissy rich people who loved to flash their money and talk about shit about people they wanted to but your best friend Farleigh begged you to come in his words it would be a ‘hell of a fucking experience’.

Was he irritable- yes but one thing you weren’t going to deny was that he was attractive who in their right mind would disagree, his dark brunette hair complimented his memorising earthy brown eyes, his height would make any person crease and that fucking cheshire smile got you every time.

You feel his presence lingering behind you, almost scared to even approach as you sat in silence for a few seconds, you gently tap the ashes from your cigarette into the grass and you dump the remains into the pond. “What do you want”

You voice is low but threatening, not moving from the current position your in. The sounds of his voice being caught in his throat is evident as he try’s to clear it with a soft cough, “Farley wanted to know where you were”

You scoff, turning around to meet his puppy doe eyes that seem to avoid your intimidating gaze. “So why did Farley send you out to find me”

“Well- I think we need to talk” he replies, voice cracking but confident.

“About ?” your head tilts to the side, eyebrow raised you just wanting the conversation to end so that you could go back to the peaceful silence.

“Do you hate me” the question catches you off guard, surprising you how forward Felix was about your loathing against him.

You sigh, cracking your neck and turning away from him watching the ripples from the pond spread out across the mass of the pond water. “What’s not to like about you….your an asshole, an ignorant rich boy who likes to laugh at those who are less fortunate than you and in general a massive slut”

It was true, Felix was known for being the university’s massive manwhore sleeping around with any girl that would throw themselves his direction, it not only disgusted you but it made you fucking jealous. In some twisted fucking way you wanted to be the one he would bend over and fuck the shit out of, hearing stories from your friends about how much of a good fuck he was made your distaste for him even stronger.

He’s lost for words not saying anything for a moment, you’ve think he’s finally got the hint and pissed off back into the house and you sigh in relief, laying back down on the floor but you hear his footsteps pace around you before stoping in front of you, blocking your view. “What the fuck are you-

It’s quick and sudden, falling onto his knees and grabbing your thighs pulling you towards him. Your confused and baffled, feeling how dizzy you were from the rapid movements as he goes to pull off your shorts along with your underwear.

“Felix get off of me what the fuck are you do-

You felt how embarrassingly wet you were, feeling vulnerable under Felixs unreadable face.

He lowers his face towards your wet pussy, the warm gush of air making you shiver as he finally lets his tongue gently lay across your swollen clit. You gasp, head falling to the ground as Felix gently sucked and nibbled at your sensitive bud.

Your body feels like it’s on fire, the blood flowing throughout your veins, making the beats in your heart beat faster as you unconsciously moan out. He grins, letting you grind into his face feeling the cold sensation of his tongue jewellery, create a cooling sensation on your cunt.

He’s slurping, lapping at your juices and letting out guttural moans, sending vibrations against your clit. He briefly looks up making eye contact with your starstruck eyes as he allows his thumb to gently circle around your bud.

He’s sensual and voluptuous almost making out with your leaking cunt as you try to stay quiet muttering curse words and praises hand, tangled into his greasy hair. You felt painful cramping restricting around your stomach, trying to distract the pain with the pleasurable sensation you were experiencing.

Felix stops for a second coming back up to see his face covered in your juices mixed in with your blood, the feeling dawned on you that it was your period blood on his face and you felt your face heat up as the embarrassment began to bubble in your chest. His finger slides between your folds before slipping it into his mouth, your laid there in shock as you watch how he moans around his fingers.

As if normal he resumes, eating you out more ferociously than before. “y-your fucking insane Felix fuckkkk”

He hums, letting his fingers rub your clit faster as you feel the intense feeling of an orgasm hit you before your slump on the ground, face flushed and mouth gaped open.

He comes back up with blood all over his face and a shit eating grin, “looks like someone’s lost for words”

“Fuck off Felix” your grinding into his hand and he chuckles licking his lips clean, “Seems like someone’s still desperate for my touch I thought you hated me princess ”

“I do hate you the only good thing about you is your tongue” you reply, going to stand up before he pushes you down.

“Since I’m only good for my tongue let’s see how fucking cock drunk you get for me, maybe it will change that bratty attitude” he sets himself beside you, sliding off his briefs before revealing his girthy curved cock, his tip scarlet red and leaking precum.

“Are you going to sit on it or not because I can just go and you can use your fucking hand to get off” your pissed but too aroused to fucking argue, climbing onto his lap and straddling over his tip before completely bottoming out on it. You both gasp slowly, feeling his hands go to grasp your ass before you begin to bounce on it.

You keep a set pace, grinding and vigorously bouncing on him, your hands wrapping around his neck. He invites you into a heated kiss, the taste of your period blood having a addicting sweet metallicy taste mixing in with your bitter tobacco taste.

The grunts and moans, emit from his chapped lips as he slaps your ass with a tight grip. “Look at you so eager to bounce on my fucking dick and I’m the fucking slut” you moan in response, your nails digging into his back leaving moon shaped crescents behind as you scratch and abuse his back.

Your panting feeling the fatigue hit you as he suddenly stops you, “Turn around and face the pond” you stop, turning around as he slips himself back inside you, making you gasp once again. He’s locked your arms with his hand and begins to bounce you on him making your head roll back into him, moaning feverishly the sounds of his harsh thrusts being heard from across the garden.

You feel his hand wrap around your neck pulling your head against his as he nibbles at your ear, “you should see how fucking sexy you look from here….so….fucking….pretty” he thrusts with every word so cock drunk for your brain to comprehend not caring if you could get caught fucking out in the open.

“I bet your wishing that someone would catch us out in the open as I fuck the shit out of you” he mutters, feeling his bruised lips against your nape, leaving love bites all over marking you as his.

“oh my god fuck- felix I’m going to come” you warn, your hands going to grip his thighs, feeling yourself clenching around his dick before you cum with a loud whimper, the warm feeling of his spunk releasing into you as he slows down his thrusts.

“Fuck babe you’ve made such a mess all over me” your still panting, fatigue hitting you as your both sat in silence feeling his heart racing against your back.

You turn around meeting the brunettes gaze before speaking, “Don’t get use to it, this is the last time I’ll ever do anything remotely sexually with you Catton”

“Noted”

You raise a brow, dying for the burning question on your tongue to be answered, “Who told you i hated you”

He smirks, “Farleigh…. he told me when he was going through his drunken rant”

“I’m going to kill that boy when I see him”

[fanaticsnail]

It looks... infected, Kil?

Hey Doc Masterlist here

Word Count: 1,900+

Synopsis: You finally think you're getting a break, conversing with fellow experts in your field. As you defend your crew's mentality and maturity, the crewmate you were sure to be the most sane out of the lot of you proves you wrong.

Warnings: surgical talk, mention of a unsanitary piercings, exhausted Doctor, grumpy doctor, gn!reader x Killer, undressing crewmates, medical administration, swearing, crying, comforting, blushing, feelings?

Notes: Okay, this was meant to be a drabble, I swear. Only a bit of fun. Are there feelings now? Is there a little bit of chemistry here, or are they just good friends?

Edit: inspired my real accounts of piercing experiences in the wild by two mutuals (@feral-artistry & @nerium-lil) being flashed by friends.

Tag List: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @sinning-23 @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @sordidmusings @nerium-lil

“Hey Doc?” a smooth, polite voice called to you from your place sitting on the beach alongside the small medic of the straw-hat crew. You turned to look up at the large polar-bear mink, giving him a soft smile as he politely rang his hands in front of him. 

“Yeah, Bepo?” you asked him in response, patting the ground beside you and the hatted reindeer, “What’s on your mind, honey?” He eagerly sat down beside you in a large thump, his radiating body heat bringing you comfort on the sandy shore. 

“I-... uh-... I was just wondering,” he scratched the scruff of his neck with his large paw, “What is it like being the medic of the Kid Pirates?” Two forms immediately slump down beside the three of you. The red-headed orca man and his hat-wearing counterpart joining in on your conversation. 

“I was curious about that too, Doc,” Shachi confessed, giving your shoulder a playful pat and chuckling, “Your crew are really unhinged. We’ve all been placing bets that it’s mainly STDs and weird intimacy-induced injuries, weren't we Peng?” You rolled your eyes at the remark, looking to the redhead and his companion.

“Is that right?” you offered him a sarcastic response, looking over to Chopper and beckoning him closer to you. “There are children present, I hope you know. Where’s your manners?” A rosy blush immediately grew over Shachi’s cheeks and flushed his embarrassment over his features. 

“Sorry, Doc,” Penguin offered for his crewmate, shaking his head with a soft smirk, “Doesn’t make us any less curious, though. What’s it like?” You shook your head, pinching the bridge of your nose and rubbing your waterline with your index finger and thumb. 

You looked over at your crewmates, noticing Kid and Killer were missing from the beach-front meeting space and narrowed your eyes at where they should’ve been. 

“Honestly, Heart-Pirates, and sweet Chopper,” you cooed down at him and scrunch your nose in glee, “It has been like nothing I could’ve ever dreamed of. Sure, I get my fair share of injuries that could’ve been prevented. A couple of itches that should’ve been avoided if they wore armor into the variety of battlefields - if you catch my meaning.” You shot Shachi and Penguin a knowing look before looking down at Chopper.

“Truly,” you sighed, looking at the dance of lights in the moonlit sky, “I couldn't ask for anything more. I love those weirdos, and I am one myself.” You noted, looking at Bepo and offering him a kind glance, “And they’re not as stupid as you think they are. Give them more credit, please.”

“Ah, I see,” Bepo nodded along at your confession, looking over at his two crewmates who offered you sheepish and apologetic smiles in response. Shachi, Penguin, Bepo, Chopper and you all enjoyed sitting in a very rare silence together, the warmth radiating off the warm sand and having you breathe in a calm tuft of salty air. 

As you sat and enjoyed the serenade of sweet bugsong, that silence was interrupted by a heavy trudge of bootheels grinding in the coarse sand. You recognised that trek, looking up into the scarred chest of Massacre Soldier Killer as he inserted himself between Bepo and you, lifting his shirt and revealing his wide chest to the five of you.

“These look even to you?” He asked behind his mask, prompting all five of you to look up at him and the other four of your company immediately recoiled at what they were witnessing. Killer was freshly adorning ball barred piercings thrust through the tips of his nipples, the indents bleeding and beginning to crust over with a soft sheen of puss.

“Kil...” you groaned, shaking your head and sighing, “...I thought we learnt the last time our Captain attempted to gift the crew with piercings. Remember what happened with Quincy’s labret and Heat’s-... uh-...” you looked down at the whimsical and innocent eyes of the reindeer before turning back to Killer, “...ladder.” 

“Said he cleaned ‘em this time,” Killer shrugged, gesturing for you to take a closer look at the freshly pierced buds on his chest, “It’s been a week. Needed some fresh eyes to give an honest opinion.” You shook your head, leaning in closer and looking at his pink puckered flesh and groaned. 

“They look,” you began sighing and rolling your eyes, “Fucking infected, Kil?” Snickers from Shachi and Penguin didn’t go unnoticed, and you shot them a sneer before shooting the reindeer an apologetic glance. 

Standing from your seated position beside the other crew, you gave them a gentle nod to excuse yourself and dragged Killer by his ear towards the Victoria Punk’s infirmary. You muttered under your breath, seething with the fumes of fury with each step you took towards your office doors. 

“Here I thought I was gettin’ a fucking break,” you grumbled, shoving Killer into your office and slamming the door shut behind you. “But no,” you uttered sarcastically with a dance of your head, “No, you had to keep me in the dark about this, didn’t you?” You open the drawer and thrust your hands aggressively into the box and get two rubber gloves and angrily thrust them over your wrists. 

Your mutters and frustration never ceased, your nose beginning to sniff and your anger teetered on sorrow the longer you looked for the variety of items to clean up the infection. Saline solution, antiseptic ointment, numbing balm to remove the pus-surrounded bars, cotton balls and gauze strips. 

Shoulders shaking, you rubbed your eyes with your forearm to calm the sting of fresh tears from falling. Thoughts of what the Heart-Pirates would be saying about you behind your back, your medical degree being the laughing stock of your peers. Your eyes began to swell as you continued choking back your sobs of rage. 

“Am I a fucking joke to you all?” you whisper, biting your lip and readying your treatment tray with the items you desired. “All I do is fix stupid mistakes and coddle you lot when you’re hurt. I’m a disgrace to my training, a laughing stock to my field, and a fucking idiot for joining this crew in the first place. I just want a damn break-.” 

Before you could continue your monologue of degradation, two strong arms wrapped around your shoulders from behind and squeezed you into his broad chest. You immediately draw your hands up to Killer’s forearms and quiver your lip to stifle your sobs further. He leaned down into your cheek with his mask brushing your face.

“You are none of those things,” he whispered in his calm, soothing voice, “And I’m sorry for keeping you in the dark about Cap’n’s latest project. Thought it wouldn’t happen again, honestly.” You sniffled, leaning your head into his mask and clenching your eyes tightly shut. 

He inhaled deeply and slowly, prompting you to do the same, before you both exhaled together. His arms held so much comfort within the contours of his muscles, him being often the crewmate everyone sought out for consolation for their sorrow. After holding you for several moments, you tapped his arm twice to signal for him to release you from his embrace.

“Alright. Shirt off, Kil,” you mumbled softly, attempting to remove the softness you just encountered at the hands of the first-mate, “Let me see what’s going on up close. Can you do that for me?” He nodded, removing his shirt and placing it on the back of your office chair. You usher him over to the surgical bench and gesture for him to sit. 

As you dabbed at his skin, you ignored the flood of somber emotions in your chest and shoved them down. Removing the ball-bar piercings and immediately throwing them in a sterilizing sink, you cleaned the wounds and looked vacantly ahead of you. Dressing the wounds in antiseptic and covering them with two broad, patterned band-aids, you gave your final nod at him and pouted.

“All done,” you sniffed, dropping your shoulders and removing your gloves from your hands. “You can put your shirt back on now, Kil. Go get the Captain so I can do him the kindness of scolding him away from the Heart and Straw-Hat pirate crews.” Turning away from him and running your fingers through your hair as he placed his shirt back on, Killer’s arms rewrapped around your body and turned you in his arms immediately thereafter. 

He cradled your head into his chest, his body heat and steady heart rate causing your emotions to finally flood over. Finally airing your frustrations, you wrap your arms around as much of him as you could as he soothed you against the embroidered jolly roger of his shirt. 

“You wanna stay here for a while?” Killer asked down at you, caressing your hair and smoothing it over, “I can help you color in the patterns you doodle on the bandaids if you want? Keep you company in here until you’re ready to go back to the beach?” You shook your head in his arms, burying your face deeper into his chest and having him hold you for a few moments longer. 

Chuckling down at you, he smiled beneath his mask at how vulnerable you allowed yourself to be in the moment. Continuing to soothe over your hair and rub circles into your back, he offered you some further confessions. 

“You know we love you, right?” his voice whispered down at you, prompting you to look up at him in his arms. His mask was tilted down at you, the soft glow of his icy blue eyes peeking through the holes in his mask. “So much, Doc. We love you so much.” Your lip quivered as you looked up at him, darting your eyes between where you assumed his were. 

“Promise me,” you sniffed, gulping back your sorrow and fixing your eyes up, “If you’re thinking about getting nipple piercings, or any other type of piercing,” you broke yourself away from his grip and huffed, “You’ll come to me for them. I’ll do them properly for you so they don’t end up infected.” 

Killer chuckled, shaking his head and glancing down at his patterned gauze. He huffed a curt hum in approval at the design. 

“Only if you promise me,” he leaned forward, taking your chin between his thumb and index finger, angling your face up at him, “You’ll come to me when you’re feeling shit. I’ll reassure you, give you a squeeze, and might cook you something if you want.” You flinch away from his grip, waving him out of your office with your hands.

“Yeah, yeah,” you offer him, cleaning up the cotton balls and throwing your instruments into the sterilizing tray, “When I feel like a whiny baby, I know where my nice, comforting daddy is.” You snicker at your own teasing joke, shaking your head and continuing to tidy up your office. Killer lingers in the door, his tone physically smirking in his own glee. 

“I would gladly be your nice, comforting daddy,” he whispered huskily from the doorframe, “Anytime you need me to be, baby.” You froze in place, your hands stuttering as you halted tidying up. 

Before you had the opportunity to stifle your blush, turn towards Killer, and chastise him for his words, you noticed he was already gone and heading back towards the beach. Groaning, you clapped your palm over your forehead and muffled the shriek from passing through your lips by clamping your mouth tightly shut. 

“Great,” you utter sarcastically, “This isn’t gonna be awkward at all.”

[milkteabinniechan]

♡extra credit - seungmin

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY commissions // m.list

pairing: college student! Seungmin x fem reader

warnings: angst, slight dom, oral (f. receiving)

a/n: I absolutely love angst, bratty seungmin and this was so fun to write. I'd love to do more with seungminnie in the future<33 thank you for reading!

Seungmin’s pencil rolled back and forth on the table in front of him. You watched his hands push it up and down, right and left. You cleared your throat loudly to get his attention. 

“Shouldn’t we get started?” you huffed.

Seungmin shrugged his shoulders, eyes unbreaking from the table.

“I don’t care. You’re the nerd, can’t you just tell me the answers?”

“That’s not really how tutoring works.” you remarked sarcastically.

Seungmin had failed his last three exams in the literature class you shared. Since you had scored the highest with almost all of the exams, your professor had asked you to help tutor Seungmin for the semester final. You loved literature and the class was your favorite part of the day. But now literature was a chore, it was a headache. Shakespeare had become daunting, Jane Austen had been mocking and Ernest Hemingway felt like you were drowning. Seungmin had fought you at every turn, every moment of your study session.

Can we just follow the lesson plan I made for today? Please?” you pleaded. You softly slid your lesson plan across the table towards him. 

Seungmin’s eyes broke from his pencil and lazily glanced over the paper. 

“God, you are such a nerd.” his words spat out sharp as he pushed the paper back across the table to you.

You felt tears pricking the corners of your eyes. This arrogant bastard. You had reached your breaking point.

“Forget it! You’re hopeless! I don’t care if you fail!” Your words matched his in sharpness and cadence. You could feel the anger bubbling inside of you. There was no stopping it now. You stood up abruptly from the table, your palms flat on the table. “Have fun taking this class again and again and AGAIN. I may be a nerd but at least I am going to graduate on time.”

You let out a deep breath. A breath that felt like it had been trapped there for months. You could feel your knees beginning to buckle from the rush of adrenaline, but you held your ground. Seungmin stayed seated, his eyes wide and glaring. His jaw clenched in frustration while he slowly rose from his seat. Silence hung heavy in the air between you. Your knees were beginning to shake now, but you kept a stern face. You would never show any weakness, not now. Finally, Seungmin opened his mouth to speak. You clenched your muscles bracing yourself for impact.

“That was mean,” his face began to move closer to yours, “like, really mean.” Your eyes locked with his, then down to his lips. You could feel yourself inching closer to him. All of a sudden, his mouth had pressed hard into yours. Your eyes fluttered back as the intensity of his mouth made your knees completely give out from underneath you. You started to lose your balance and attempted to break the kiss to gain your footing, but Seungmin had swiftly wrapped his arm around your waist to steady you. The kiss stayed locked as he lifted you up onto the table. You sat with you legs dangling off while Seungmin eased his waist in between your thighs. A fire was filling your core that was setting out to spread through your entire body. Your hips were starting to move on their own as you pulled Seungmin into you for a deeper kiss. His tongue forced its way into your open mouth with agressive flicks and jerks. Your hands found his fingers and were desperately begging to penetrate the heat building inside of you.

Seungmin unzipped your pants and started to pull down. He licked his lips like an animal ready to devour. Like a starving man lost in the desert, praying for an oasis. He wanted to drown so deep inside of you and never come up for air.

“Wait, I-I…” your words trailed off as Seungmin traced his thumb up and down, left and right over your swelling clit. You arched your back in response, lightning sensations were pulsating through your thighs like a perverted heartbeat.

“I want to make you come,” he growled, his jaw clenching again. “I want to watch you come.” 

You locked eyes with him again. You had your hand in your mouth, biting down hard to keep from moaning too loud. You felt so exposed, but it felt strangely exciting. Seungmin slipped a finger gingerly inside of you, eager to see how wet he had made you. 

“F-fuck…” you squeaked. 

“How does it feel?” Seungmin let his whole finger disappear inside of you now. He turned his hand upward and let his thumb continue to run small, intricate circles around your clit.

“G-good…” you breathed out. You could feel your skin heating up as Seungmin’s finger picked up speed. 

“I could recite a poem if you want? I know you like Plath.” his finger continued a steady pace.

“Yeah like you know any poetry…” you snarkily remarked through heavy breaths.

“If you come for me, I’ll follow your lesson plan.” He smirked up at you, firey eyes between your thighs, his arm moving headily.

You chuckled lightly. You wanted to come. You wanted so much more than a finger inside of you. But Seungmin had a reputation at University. You knew who he was and more importantly, you knew who you were. You were not this type of girl. But at least for this moment, for right now, you wanted to be the kind of girl that Seungmin wanted.

Seungmin’s thumb moved more vigorously as he felt your cunt clench around his finger. You were pulling him in so deliciously and all he wanted in the world was to see your climax. A litany of curse words poured from your innocent lips as your orgasm overwhelmed you. Seungmin could hardly believe how hard he was, watching you writhe and squirm on top of the table. He slid out his soaked finger and placed it in his mouth to get a full taste of you.

“Huh, nerd tastes good.”

taglist: @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @doohnut @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthor @fun-fanfics

[capseycartwright]

let’s get lost between the lines

ao3 link

“You handled that well,” Tommy said, as they left the restaurant and stepped out into this cool evening air. His words were soft, and gentle – genuine, even. As though he really meant it. Buck was baffled, frankly.

“I handled that with as much grace as an elephant doing ballet,” Buck glared at his - his date? - incredulously. “Tommy, did you hit your head? Are you concussed? Do I need to take you to the emergency room?”

or, after the eddie shaped hiccup of their first date, buck and tommy walk and talk - about coming out and why buck deserves a nice boyfriend.

Buck feels as though he’s swinging wildly between a panic attack and some sort of mental breakdown, heart thundering against his ribcage as he and Tommy finally leave the restaurant. It wasn’t how he’d want their first date - his first date with a man - to go, but then Eddie had appeared with Marisol on his arm and sat down with them, apparently completely oblivious to the fact that he was interrupting a date, and not a just a bro-hang (his words - not Bucks. Because Eddie was nothing if not an embarrassing old man stuck in a thirty-two-year-olds body.)

Tommy hadn’t corrected Eddie about the true nature of their outing, as Eddie had rambled on, hovering over the table, completely oblivious to what he was interrupting. Buck had never been more grateful for the fact that Tommy had already slid his credit card into the folder with the bill, their meal finished before Eddie and Marisol had even gotten seated at their own table. The waitress coming over to return Tommy’s card, and hand him a receipt, had been the perfect excuse for them to leave after fifteen of the worst minutes of Bucks life, making an excuse that he and Tommy had bought tickets to the movies. (“It’s sci-fi,” Buck had shrugged, impressed at the way he was internalising his own panic attack as he managed to splutter a sentence out. Eddie had looked almost hurt, when Buck had blurted that he and Tommy were going to the cinema without him. “You wouldn’t like it.”)

“You handled that well,” Tommy said, as they left the restaurant and stepped out into this cool evening air. His words were soft, and gentle – genuine, even. As though he really meant it.

Buck was baffled, frankly.

“I handled that with as much grace as an elephant doing ballet,” Buck glared at his - his date? - incredulously. “Tommy, did you hit your head? Are you concussed? Do I need to take you to the emergency room?”

Tommy laughed, the sound an utter delight to Buck’s ears. He was quickly learning that he loved the sound of Tommy’s laugh. “No, I’m not concussed,” he rolled his eyes, feigning offence. “It was a genuine compliment. I think you handled that really well, Evan.”

Buck filed the gooey feeling he got in the pit of his stomach he got when Tommy called him ‘Evan’ away to obsess over at another time. “R-really?” he hated the way he sounded so unsure, so uncertain – but he knew he needed to start embracing his own discomfort in the midst of all of this. Being – being newly bisexual was going to be uncomfortable, for a while, but Buck was realising it wasn’t a bad sort of uncomfortable. Weirdly, it was a good uncomfortable – like Buck was growing into his own skin, learning how to feel himself for the first time in his life. It would just take a little while, and it would take a few uncomfortable moments for him to figure out what this new version of Evan Buckley actually looked like.

No - not new. The true version.

“Yes, really,” Tommy nodded. He paused, glancing back at the restaurant. “How about we take a walk?” he suggested, gesturing vaguely at the miles of boardwalk and beach ahead of them. “I’m not in a rush – unless you are.”

“A walk sounds nice,” Buck agreed easily, because he didn’t want to go home just yet – and he didn’t want their date, however awkward and disastrous it had been, to end just yet. He liked spending time with Tommy.

They walked along in silence for a few minutes, Buck blushing like a schoolkid as he and Tommy’s shoulders bumped together.

“Look – coming out isn’t easy. It’s something you have to do over, and over again, for the whole of your life,” Tommy began. “I used to think that you did it once, and that was it, but you come out every time you meet someone new, every time you start a new job. It gets easier, with time, right? At some point – you come out so many times, it feels as familiar as breathing. But those first few times – those are hard.”

“I didn’t even come out,” Buck pointed out.

“You don’t have to,” Tommy shrugged. “And you’re deliberately not listening to my point.”

Buck couldn’t help but grin. “I like to be obtuse sometimes. Explain it to me again?”

“You think you’re cute,” Tommy poked Buck in the side, clearly enjoying the way it made Buck squirm. “My point is, the first time you say those words to someone – your friends, your family – it’s hard. It’s okay to give yourself some time to prepare, to not want to do it right away.”

“Shouldn’t – shouldn’t I want to come out?”

“It’s not an obligation,” Tommy shrugged, gently redirecting Buck to a bench. It was a peaceful spot, the sound of the waves lapping against the shore a peaceful sound as they sat. “Society is like – it’s structured in a way that makes it so if you’re queer, there’s this expectation that you have to divulge these deeply personal things about yourself to everyone you meet. It’s not exactly fair, is it?”

Buck had never thought about it that way before. “No,” his brow furrowed. “It’s not very fair at all.”

“If you don’t want to come out, you don’t have to,” Tommy said. “But it does feel good to come out. If I can give you some like – advice, I guess. It’s a freeing feeling.”

“I’d like to come out,” Buck managed after a minute or two of silence. “I’ve been thinking about it since – since you kissed me,” he paused, feeling heat rise in his cheeks as he looked at Tommy. Tommy, to his credit, tried to swallow his pleased smile. “I feel more like myself than I ever have before. Like – like there was a part of me that was missing, and I didn’t even know it wasn’t there, and now I know it what it is, and what was missing, I feel more like myself than I ever have before in my life.”

Tommy’s smile was bright. “I’m glad to hear that, Buck.”

“I’d like to come out,” Buck repeated, twisting so he could face Tommy. “I just wasn’t prepared to do it on our first date, if I’m honest.”

“And that’s why I’m telling you that you handled it well,” Tommy nudged. “You knew you weren’t ready to have that conversation, there and then, so you came up with an excuse, and got us out of there.”

“You got us out of there,” Buck pointed out. Tommy had been the one to play along and say they’d be late for the movie, if they didn’t leave, there and then. “I didn’t even say thank you for buying dinner. I’m such a bad first date.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow. “I think you’re a great first date.”

Buck huffed out a disbelieving breath. “I was basically mid-panic attack the entire time, Tommy, you don’t have to lie to me to save my feelings.”

“I’m not lying,” Tommy shrugged. “If there’s one thing you should know about me, Evan, it’s that I don’t lie. You’ll probably be sick of my honesty, in a few weeks.”

“In a few weeks? You – you want to keep doing this?”

“Why do you sound so unsure? Have I done something to make you think I don’t want to keep doing this?”

“N-no,” Buck paused for a second. “It’s kind of the opposite, actually.”

Tommy was quiet, giving Buck the space – and the silence – he needed to collect his thoughts. Buck was grateful for it.

“I don’t have the best dating history,” Buck admitted. “One day, further down the line, when I’m sure you’re not going to run away, I’ll tell you all the reasons why – but it sort of all boils down to childhood trauma and my deep-rooted abandonment issues,” he tried his best to give Tommy a smile, turn the admission into a joke. “So, I just – I end up picking the wrong people to date. I chase the wrong people. And now – now you’re here, and you’re being so kind, and understanding, I don’t really know what to do with it.”

“You could enjoy it,” Tommy offered, and it sounded so simple, when Tommy put it that way. Buck could just enjoy it. He could enjoy dating a man – a kind, sweet, very handsome man. He could enjoy the way he felt entirely out of his depth when Tommy offered him nothing but kindness, expecting nothing in return.

He could enjoy it.

He wanted to enjoy it.

“How the hell are you real?” Buck couldn’t help but breathe out, shaking his head. Tommy was just – a dream come true, in so many ways, and Buck didn’t know how he got so lucky to have him be interested in Buck. It felt so new, and exciting – none of the existential dread Buck normally felt as he tried to make relationships fit into his life when clearly, they never would.

He could see how Tommy could fit into his life. They worked the same job, so Tommy understood the crazy hours and long shifts. Tommy already knew so many of Buck’s most important people – and liked them – and he liked Buck. He actually liked Buck.

It seemed silly, to keep coming back to that, but Buck hadn’t always felt as though the people he dated him, really liked him. Abby liked the idea of him. Taylor liked the story they made. Natalia liked the fact he had died. Buck didn’t exactly have the best track record of people liking him for who he was, flaws and all – and okay, after one date, Tommy didn’t know his flaws so intimately, but he’d just witnessed Buck having a meltdown in a restaurant and he wasn’t running away.

He was sitting on a bench, listening to Buck.

Buck could definitely enjoy that.

“My mom hasn’t spoken to me since I came out,” Tommy said, after a few more minutes of silence. Buck’s expression must have turned to one of absolute horror, because Tommy gave him a reassuring look. “You told me something about yourself – so I’m telling you something about me.”

“Tommy, that’s horrible – I’m sorry.”

Tommy shrugged. “I’d be lying if I said it was okay,” he hummed thoughtfully. “But one of my very favourite things about being queer is that you find a family for yourself in this community. You know? Well – of course you know. You’ve done that with the 118.”

Buck shuffled a little closer. “I’d like to do that with the queer community too. As long as you don’t mind being my like – gay Yoda.”

Tommy snorted, the sound an utter delight amongst all the background noise of the boardwalk, people going about their Saturday evenings, unaware that Buck was having the most life-changing night of his life. “You’re secretly such a nerd,” he shook his head. “I’m happy to be your gay Yoda, Buck.”

“Yeah, but – what do you get out of it?”

Tommy fixed him with a look. “Buck,” he reached out, hand brushing against Buck’s palm. “I get to have you.”

And –

Oh.

Was that enough?

“It’s enough,” and oh – Buck must have said that part out loud, Tommy’s expression endearingly soft as he nudged Buck. “I promise. You’re more than enough.”

Buck would probably cry, if he spoke there and then, so he settled for doing something he’d been wanting to do since Tommy had knocked on his door at exactly eight pm that evening, and he leaned in and kissed him. It was a chaste kiss, soft, and sweet, a brief press of lips that still sent tingles down Buck’s spine as they broke apart.

He’d just kissed a man – in public.

That felt a lot like progress.

“I – I hope I’m not being too forward, when I ask this,” Tommy’s face was flushed in a way that Buck could only be delighted with. He’d made the other man blush. “But do you maybe want to come back to mine? Not – not for anything like that. I just don’t want this date to be over, and we could watch a movie.”

Buck had absolutely zero fucking intentions of watching a movie if he got to go inside of Tommy’s apartment. “Yeah,” he smiled, hooking a pinky finger around Tommy’s, not quite ready to hold his hand just yet. “A movie sounds great.”

[empress-simps]

for remus, maybe a fic where he has a crush on fem!slytherin reader, and maybe the rest of the gang disapproves (at least initially) because of the silly house rivalry between gryffindor and slytherin? hopefully they’ll warm up to her because she’s actually really sweet and likes remus back, and they see how good for him she is :)

Hi darlingg! Thank you for this request, this is so adorable, and it was so fun to write :) I somehow made it a bit angsty...sorry about that I got carried away. Hope you enjoy! Pictures are from pinterest, credits to the owner!

Beyond The Surface

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Fem! Slytherin! Reader CW: Sirius being dramatic, Remus getting angry, and Language

He never really planned to fall in love. Remus thinks it would be better if he just lives his life in solitude; away from the confusing and complicated world of romantic relationships.

He doesn’t think anyone should bear the responsibility of having a werewolf boyfriend. Remus wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he even touched a single hair on your body during that time, he desperately tries to convince himself that his friends and their future children will be enough to warm his heart who secretly yearns to have his own family.

‘It’s for the best, they wouldn’t suffer because of me.’ Remus thought, being the selfless person he was. Although, his plans that he so desperately tried to put up all came crumbling down when you came into the picture.

He didn’t think of it much at first. Remus thought it was just a simple crush that would go away in about three days or so. He was completely wrong.

“Remus Lupin, right? I’m Y/n Rosier, we’re assigned partners in potions.”

You sat beside him, beaming a smile that Remus was certain you were a gift for him from the Gods above. Merlin- you were simply breath taking. That was the first time he felt butterflies on his stomach, feeling his cheeks heat up as you offered a handshake.

“N-nice to meet you, Rosier.” He took your soft hands into his rough, and scarred ones. Shaking it as he desperately tries to ignore the sparks that seemed to go off inside him. Your face grimaced as your last name rolled off his tongue.

“Y/n is fine.” Remus nods, noticing your reaction. He was wondering how someone like you managed to survive other annoying Slytherins as your housemates.

“Alright then, Y/n. Call me Remus, yeah?”

That marks the beginning of an unlikely friendship of a Gryffindor half-blood with a Slytherin pure blood.

“Shall we begin?”

“Alright, but you lead. My skills are no good in potion making.” He jokes, making a small chuckle escape your throat. “I am quite aware.” She teases.

Being partnered with him for a Potions project meant that you would often meet up in the library, spending long hours sitting beside each other in silence, flipping page after page as Remus occasionally puts back books but returning with 5 more.

“Remmy, look here.” You pointed, not noticing how Remus blushed at his newfound nickname as he leaned to your seat, placing one arm on the back of your chair, his tall frame nearly engulfing you as he reads the contents of the page you found interesting.

He suddenly pales, his eyes transfixed on the title of the page. “Wolfsbane potion…” He whispers, eyes scanning the page quickly before looking at you. You hummed, flipping into another page to see how to make the said potion.

“Right, I figured we should make this for our project. What do you think? I think Polyjuice potion is a tad bit boring, hm?” She mused, seeking his opinion on the matter.

Remus parted his mouth to speak, yet the words seem to vanish at the back of his throat. You shot him a worried look, “Do you not like it? You could say so, don’t pretend nothing is wrong, Remmy.”

He blinks, trying to compose himself. “Ah, no-nothing’s wrong. It’s just that…”

You raised your eyebrows curiously, urging him to continue. “What? You know someone who’s a werewolf?” She jokes, trying to lighten the atmosphere as she lightly elbows him.

“I do.” He chokes out, the confession was unexpected, even to him. Remus doesn’t even know why on Earth he’s about to tell you one of his darkest and deepest secrets. It was probably because of your warm and inviting aura. It’s like you wouldn’t judge anyone based on first impressions, appearance, and what you’ve heard about them until you can see for yourself.

Remus felt like he could trust you, and his instincts are almost never wrong.

“Well, maybe the potion we’ll brew can help them?” You offered a smile.

“It certainly would be of help to me.”

You stilled; your hand that was about to get your quill hovered as you looked at him in shock.

“You’re a werewolf?” You whispered quietly; eyes that were surprised stared into his nervous, amber ones. Remus could only nod, an inkling doubt and regret slowly crept up to him. Did he make the right decision? Was he wrong this time? Would you hold it against him?

Your face turned serious, clasping his hand on the table with yours, you looked at him in the eye. “Your secret is safe with me; I would never tell it to anyone. If it helps, I will even make an unbreakable vow, Remus.”

He widened his eyes, “N-no! It’s alright, I trust you, Y/n.” You visibly relaxed, smiling lightly, squeezing his hand, a soft look was sent his way.

“Thank you for trusting me, Remus. If you’d like, I’ll brew you a supply of wolfsbane from time to time.”

If Remus wasn’t in love before that, he certainly is now.

“Out of all the people you could’ve chose to like it was a Rosier?!” Sirius screeched, a horrified look on his face as he grabbed Remus’s shoulder and looked at him straight in the eyes. The said boy frowned “What about it?”

Sirius blanched, “Are you daft, Moons?” He threw his hands up in the air, looking at the rest of the marauders and Lily, wanting them to side with him. Lily’s lips pressed into a thin line; she does not quite agree with Sirius but there’s still a possibility. It doesn’t help the fact that you are a Slytherin; the house that reeks of cunning pure-blooded wizards.

Peter looked anywhere to just not meet the eyes of Remus, clearly uncomfortable. While James frowned, a troubled look on his face as he clasped Lily’s hand. “The Rosier family… they’re not exactly known for their…,” he started, but Sirius cut him off.

“Rosiers are evil! Slytherins! Pureblood Supremacists! Death Eaters!”

Remus frowns, reading the room and the reactions of his friends. The message was clear without words: none of them supported Remus’s interest in a Slytherin, a Rosier no less.

“Give her a chance, she’s different.” Remus tried to make his friends listen to him. Sirius scoffed, rolling his eyes. James sighed, looking at Remus. “Moony, it’s just… We never thought you would fancy a Slytherin.” Remus pursed his lips, “Yeah, I never thought you and Lily would end up together but here we are.” James grimaced at his words.

“There’s tons of girls who fancy you, Moony.” Peter tells him. Remus frowned, feeling annoyance stir inside him. “They’re not her, Wormtail. All I’m saying is that Lily and you blokes should give her a chance before you make assumptions.” He spat, glaring at Sirius before leaving the room.

“Rem? Mon amour, what’s wrong?” She frowns, placing her book down as Remus entered the library, heading straight to her usual place but the window. Remus sighs, shaking his head. He couldn’t possibly tell you what happened, how Sirius thought you were just those pesky Slytherins they pull pranks on.

“They do not like me.” She stated, looking down with a frown as she fiddled with her thumbs.

“Honey, it’s not your fault.”

“I know, amour.”

Remus felt his lips press into a thin line, gently taking your hands in his, trying to stop your nervous habit. “They’re still wrapping their heads around it. They’ll come around, don’t worry about it love.” You sighed shakily, “I hope so.”

Remus traced shapes across the back of her hand, “Anything interesting happened today?”

“Evan and I got into a fight; said I was a blood traitor…” You trailed off, noticing how Remus’s jaw tightened and his stare hardened. “But it was alright, we made up. He just told me to be careful.” To say Remus was surprised was an understatement. “He couldn’t be angry at his twin sister for a long time.” She smiles.

“Black! What the fuck did you do?!” Remus roars, grabbing a fistful of the said boy’s shirt, pushing him against the wall as James tried to pull him off, “Come on, Moons-“

“Don’t bloody touch me, James!” He bellows, pushing off the Potter boy who stumbled away, shock evident in his features. Peter quickly got up from his bed, “Moony, why are you so angry? What did he do?” He drops shoves Sirius off as he stared at his friends.

“It was you guys who pulled a prank on her right? “Remus’s eyes brimmed with unshed tears, pointedly looking at Sirius. “Well congratulations, she’s being treated by Madame Pomfrey right now.”

Sirius felt shame and guilt ate him up. The prank was never supposed to go that far.

“Ever wondered why I was suddenly so calm during the full moon? It’s all thanks to her. She makes me batches of wolfsbane potion every month, without fail.”

James choked, “You told her?”

“I did”

“What if she tells everyone?” Peter frowns, concerned for Remus.

“If she wanted to, then the whole school would’ve already known, she even suggested an unbreakable vow.” Remus uttered out, sitting at his bed, looking away from them “Some kind of friends you guys are. I care about her, and if you hurt her, you hurt me too.”

Sirius cautiously approached him, “Moons, I’m sorry.” He began. James placed a hand on his shoulder, “I know, we’re knobheads. Sorry, Moony.” Peter nods, “We messed up, it won’t happen again.”

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to her.”

“We will, Moony.”

An hour has passed after you got treated by Madame Pomfrey, you wanted to leave as you already felt alright but she insisted you stay for an hour or two just so she could monitor you. Having no choice but to oblige.

“Love?” Your ears perked up, the sound of Remus’ voice calling out to you. You turned and smiled at his direction, although suddenly dropping it as you saw the rest of the Marauders and Lily following him.

Trying to alleviate the awkward atmosphere, Sirius pulls out a bouquet of flowers. “Remus told us you like Tulips…” You were about to take it but stopped, James seemed to notice this. “It’s not jinxed, or anything like that.” You bit your lip, silently looking at Remus as if asking was it safe, he nods. “I was there when they picked it out love.” You finally took the bouquet, nodding gratefully. “Thank you.”

“We wanted to say we were sorry.” James started; Lily nodded. “It was quite shameful that we made such accusations and judged you before even getting to know you.”

“I’m sorry, Y/n. We…we were just looking out for Moony.” Sirius sighed; shame visible in his features.

“I understand, I probably would have done the same. I’d also look out for the people I care about.” You softly replied. “It’s okay, I forgive all of you.” You looked at them.

James stepped forward, “We hope you can give us a chance to make it up to you.” Sirius cleared his throat, “And maybe, if you’re up for it, join us for a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks?” His attempt at a smile was hopeful.

Your lips curved into a genuine smile, your body slowly becoming relaxed. “I’d like that,”

[bouncybongfairy]

Stress Relief

Bakugou x Fem Reader

Summary: Aizawa offers you extra credit to tutor Bakugou for an upcoming test. Need I say more?

Word Count: 1.5k+

Ref Account: @kaionyx

TW: Rough Smut, Oral Female & Male Receiving, Facial.

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Sitting in your room and dissociating never felt so good. It was finally the end of the week and you felt properly chewed up and spit out. Muscles were sore and brain was fried, all you wanted to do was sit in silence. Emptying out your backpack and organizing everything on to your desk. The stress you were under was slowly chipping away at you. Hearing a knock at the door made your eyes roll, the last thing you wanted was to interact with anyone. Wiping the scowl off your face, you go to greet the unwanted guest. The feelings of annoyance quickly turned into insecurity once you saw it was Aizawa and Bakugou. Trying to casually fix your appearance as he began speaking in his monotone voice. 

“Hello, sorry I didn’t mean to come to your dorm directly but this is a time sensitive matter. Bakugou needs a passing grade on this next test, I’m willing to bump your grade up 5% if you agree to help,” he explains, making Bakugou’s frown deepen. 

“Oh of course, we can start right now,” you said, practically beaming. Having your grade pushed up five percent was a God sent gift at this point in the semester. 

“Wonderful, Bakugou, please try to be open to the tutoring,” Aizawa said before walking away. 

You gestured for him to come in, made you feel nervous watching him take in the room. All your posters and collectables are now starting to feel a little dorky. Not really sure what to say, you just sat in silence as he took in your room. You were pretty soft spoken and he was anything but that. It often worried you seeing how dark he was. It was so apparent that his anger issues were coming from a deep wound from the past. When all your friends would gossip, they talked about him with such vascularity and objectification was quite sad. As much as you tried to discourage this, there were times you agreed. The intimidating look he always had written across his face. The way his pent up rage came out during combat training. 

It frustrated you knowing that he could overpower you. Any time you were paired to spar, he always managed to out maneuver you. Pinning you to the ground or wall. As much as it affected the confidence you had in your combat abilities, it made you feel warm and fuzzy. The last time the two of you were sparing, he grabbed your forearm so hard it left a bruise in the shape of his hand. You stared at it in the mirror for a while, confused why you liked it so much. Running your fingertips over the purple and brown blotches. Thinking about the way he looked into your eyes when throwing you to the ground. Walking away with no care or regard for you physically or mentally. It made you melt even though you’d never admit it. The two of you were sitting at your desk, helping him with his English assignment; he was getting frustrated and you were enjoying it a little too much.

“That just doesn’t make any fucking sense. The assignment was to summarize the fucking article. I don’t have to talk about my feelings about it, it’s not even specified!” he said, raising his voice. 

“I could understand you don’t want to give your opinion on it but the teacher isn’t going to accept it until you do. You’re being ridiculous,” you huffed the last part under your breath. 

“Excuse me?” he asked, folding his arms. 

“Nothing, i’m just saying the assignment-” you started but became interrupted.��

“No, go on. Explain why I’m ridiculous, I wanna hear you say it,” he said, furrowing his eyebrows and grinding his teeth. 

“You are ridiculous. Are you so ignorant that you don’t understand how lazy you are? You act like academics is optional and that you can rely solely on your combat. Nobody else will, so I'll be the first to tell you: Thinking physical prowess will get you where you wanna be is stupid and delusional,” you say, starting to pack his papers up. 

“If anyone is stupid and delusional it’s you, we both know the real reason you accepted this little study session,” he scoffs standing up. 

“What do you mean by that?” you ask, knowing exactly what he was implying. 

“Do you think I don’t notice you staring at me? Finding any opportunity to throw yourself at me. I can only imagine what runs through your head while you watch me. I have an idea by the way your cheeks flush and your pupils get wide. The way your body shakes when we spar. It’s stupid and delusional for you to think I'd ever want anything more than your body,” he said, now backing you against the wall.

You weren’t sure what to think, part of you felt like this was him showing his interest in you. Another part of you was worried he was just being cruel. Like he was stringing you along, trying to make you look desperate just to pull away.

“Interesting way to say you want my body, if you wanted me that bad you could just ask,” you patronize. 

“I wouldn’t have too,” he said, grabbing you by the throat and pushing you against the desk. 

You were now halfway sitting on the edge of the desk. Legs dangling off, separated by him grinding against you. Letting go of your hair, holding your face in his hands. The kiss was sloppy and wet, not being able to get enough of each other’s touch. You reached down and ran your hands up his back towards his shoulder. Lightly scratching down as he started kissing your neck. Nipping and sucking hickies on you, his heavy breathing giving your body goosebumps. Your hands begin to wander, fingers dipping into the back of his pants. Tracing all the way around, stopping when you felt his happy trail. He sits back on the office chair and stares you down. This makes you blush, sliding off  and onto your knees. Your body was slightly under the desk, he took your glasses off and set them down.. 

Genuinely being gentle, which made you feel more safe to be vulnerable and vulgar. Taking his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him. He moaned softly as he collected your hair in his hand. Using the other to stroke your cheek and face. Eventually you start bobbing your head up and down. Looking up and watching his reaction, he huffs and grunts that pour out of his mouth. His eyebrows furrowed together and sweat started to bead on his forehead. Feeling him get harder and harder as things started getting more sloppy. His hands were getting rougher, both of them now laced in your hair. Helping fuck your head down on his shaft faster. Cursing and moaning, starting to buck his hips. Making you gag around and spit around his cock. He pulls you by the hair off him with a loud pop sound. Grabbing himself to smack and rub his tip against your lips as he tips over the edge. Covering your mouth and chin with his cum. 

Expecting him to be done but being taken off guard when he grabs your jaw. Bringing you to his level and smashes his lips against yours. Moaning into the kiss, being taken completely by surprise from how brazen he was being. He pulls away, a mix of saliva and his cum dripping down both your mouths. Standing up, he grabs your waist and lifts you on the desk. Sitting back down and spreading your legs, using his fingers to massage your clit. Moving down and eventually pushing a finger inside you. Bringing his lips down and starting to eat you out. Flicking his tongue, moaning as he felt you tighten around his fingers. Increasing the speed of both his hands and mouth. Stroking himself off, seeing you in so much pleasure was making his cock feel touch starved. Reaching your hands down and pulling and yanking. His hair was sweaty and you could feel him breathing hard against your core. 

You tried holding back your orgasm as long as possible, wanting to enjoy the pleasure before becoming overly sensitive. He pushes a third finger which makes you fall  over the edge. Feeling the walls of your cunt spasm and tighten makes him cum for a second time. Standing from his chair, rubbing his tip against your clit while continuing to finger you. Making eye contact as his warm cum covers your lower stomach. Resting your foreheads together, trying to catch your breath. He almost dozed off but eventually realized it was getting late. You were passed out, not wanting to wake you up, he carries you to the bed. Grabbing a towel and wiping you down. He didn’t want to go through your clothes, so he slipped his tee-shirt over you. Walking out in his tanktop, Kirishima gave him a side eye as he left your room.

[dietcokegirly12]

“Don't Move Like That”

featuring tecchou suehiro ♡ᰔ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

·········꒰ა 𓐩 ໒꒱········· ꒰ა 𓐩 ໒꒱········· ꒰ა 𓐩 ໒꒱········· ꒰ა 𓐩 ໒꒱·········

·········꒰ა 𓐩 ໒꒱········· ꒰ა 𓐩 ໒꒱········· ꒰ა 𓐩 ໒꒱········· ꒰ა 𓐩 ໒꒱·········

for all my tecchou lovers (づ ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈ )づ

tags: teasing, forced proximity, inexperienced!tecchou, handjob, cervix kissing, unprotected sex, edging, riding, premature ejaculation, reader is a member of the hunting dogs!, def others

NOTE: for the sake of this story's plot, our reader replaces Tachihara and his ability, Midwinter Memento, aka metal manipulation.

word count: 3.4k (ᵕ—ᴗ—)

KINKTOBER OCT. 13 /ᐠ •̀⩊ •́マ

⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⊱⊰⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯ ⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⊱⊰⋯⋯⋯⋯

“For this mission, I’m going to entrust it to you two.”

You swallow, glancing over to where Tecchou is standing, his usual blank face trained on Fukuchi.

It’s not that you didn’t like him, exactly. He was just always so… cold around you. He would barely speak, barely move, and was constantly tense. The whole situation always just ended up being… awkward.

Jouno’s mouth instantly curves up into a smile, his annoying sing-song voice ringing out through the uncomfortable air. “Oh Tecchou~”

You look over to see Tecchou scowling at Jouno, a light dusting of pink across his cheeks. Was he… blushing?

Jouno’s grin widens as he folds his arms across his chest, tipping his head slightly in your direction.

“When do we leave?” you interrupt their strange interaction to frown at Fukuchi, trying not to let your annoyance show at being paired with someone who won’t even talk to you.

His eyes gleam with cruel mirth, leading you to believe he had purposefully set this up. “Right now.”

─(･ω･)つ ──────────── ⊂(･ω･) ─

You sigh, looking out the window at the buildings passing by outside.

Tecchou sat stiffly beside you, the only sound from him being soft exhales as he breathes.

It’s so quiet, unbearably so.

You shift, unsure how to break the silence. Just as you’re about to open your mouth and say something, anything the car jolts to a stop.

“We’re here.” the driver Fukuchi had hired for the mission, gruffly says from the front.

You go to look over at Tecchou, but he’s already getting out, making calculated movements to make sure he doesn’t so much as even brush against you.

You almost scoff at his painfully obvious avoidance of you. You truly had no idea what you’d ever done to make him hate you this much but it was starting to piss you off.

As you both stepped out, he unsheathed his sword at your side.

Fukuchi had told you both that the mission was to track down a Special Ability using Gifted, who had been abusing his powers to commit acts of terroism against the city of Yokohama, so it was important to keep your guard up at all times.

“Stay close to me.” Tecchou growls to you, his eyes scanning the area.

You turn to him, widening your eyes in mock surprise. "He speaks!"

When he says nothing in reply, you roll your eyes. "We both know I can handle myself. What's the real reason you have finally decided to grace me with the gift of your speech?"

“What?”

You can't help but stare at him in disbelief. “Seriously? You ignore me every time we go to meetings, you go out of your way to make sure we don't get partnered, and you were silent the whole way here. And now you're playing dumb? God! What have I ever done to you to make you despise me this much?"

Tecchou hesitates, about to open his mouth to speak, but suddenly the sound of gunshots ringing through the air cuts him off.

“Get down!” he hisses, eyes frantically searching for the culprit.

You obey, diving down and bracing yourself as you try to stay out of the line of fire.

Simultaneously, Tecchou leaps into action, thrusting his sword in the direction of a dark-haired man in the distance.

The man fights back, his special ability overpowering, but still no match for Tecchou’s sword.

Deadly masses of bullets quickly cover the building walls behind you, and Tecchou grunts as he rapidly blocks with his sword.

It was apparent to you that the Gifted you two were up against, had some kind of telekinesis ability that was allowing him to empty all these hoards of barrels at you.

Luckily for you, your ability was Midwinter Memento, a metal manipulation ability that allowed you to control metal at will.

You join in, deflecting the bullets by turning them around in midair to point them back at their shooter.

While the Gifted is distracted staving off the shots, it grants Tecchou an opportunity to extend his sword toward him, effectively piercing through his chest with an awful crack! that signifies the splitting of bone.

The man sways slightly on his feet before falling forward and collapsing in a broken, bloody pile. There would be no tormenting innocent civilians for him any longer.

Tecchou turns back to you triumphantly, his face tilted in one of his rare, slight smiles.

You smile back, but suddenly a sharp, burning sensation ignites in your leg, outwardly spreading and you look down to see scarlett red soaking through your Hunting Dog uniform.

In the heat of battle, a bullet must have lightly grazed your thigh, enough for a steady stream of blood to begin pouring out.

Tecchou's eyes follow yours, and you see them widen in horror.

He shoves his sword back into its place at his hip, and immediately rushes over.

"What happened?"

You wince, shifting to stretch your leg out on the ground. "Fuck, I-I don't know."

"It's okay." He kneels at your side, bending to examine the wound. "It's not fatal, but it needs to be cleaned."

He instinctively takes your face into his hands, quickly checking for any wounds there. You let out a soft breath of surprise at the feel of his warm hands, and he seems to realize what he's done, snatching his hands back like he's been stung.

You open your mouth, unsure what to say, but he suddenly rises to his feet. "I'll be back, 'm going to get supplies." he mumbles, before practically sprinting away from you.

You furrow your eyebrows, but decide to pay it no mind. Tecchou is always acting weird around you, this is clearly no exception. Propping yourself against the wall behind you, you tilt your head back, closing your eyes.

It seems like only a few seconds have passed before he's back, the heavy sound of his boots against the pavement rousing you.

You watch as he stops in front of you, holding a bag of bandaids, gauze, and hydrogen peroxide.

He hands it to you dutifully. "I got what I could find, hopefully it's enough to stop the bleeding."

You stare at him, realizing he wants you to do it yourself.

You hesitate, looking down at your shaking hands. "Can you help me? Please?"

Your voice comes out more pathetic than you intended, and as you turn your eyes back to Tecchou, he's staring at his feet, face reddening. "Okay."

You shift over, so he can crouch next to you.

Carefully, Tecchou lowers himself, taking the bag from you to dig around for the gauze.

Once he finds what he's looking for, he turns back to you, his face flushed awkwardly. "I need to cut your pants so I can properly assess the wound."

You inhale sharply as he draws his pocket knife out, but when he looks over for your consent, you nod.

He steadies himself with a breath before gently pressing the tip of his knife against your upper thigh. Cautiously, he begins to cut, the sound of seams ripping the only noise apart from your ragged breathing.

Once he successfully removes the bloodied strip, he reaches into the bag to retrieve the small roll of gauze. He unrolls it, and presses it down on you lightly, the warmth of his fingers seeping through the thin bandage.

You wince slightly and he looks at you carefully.

“Hurts?”

You nod, and he eases up, taking extra care to be gentle.

Unfortunately for you, the bullet had grazed you on your upper thigh, and it's almost impossible to ignore the feel of his long, splayed fingers holding down the gauze uncomfortably close to the heat radiating in between your legs.

After a few long minutes, he lifts the gauze to check on your wound and after peering down at it for a couple beats, says, "The bleeding stopped."

Reaching for the bottle of hydrogen peroxide, and unscrewing the cap, he leans over your wound, his hands shaking slightly.

"Tecchou, come closer, you're going to spill it." You say, watching as his back stiffens. "Y-yeah.." he stammers, inching closer by a centimeter.

You sigh in exasperation, taking matters into your own hands, as you lift your other leg over his lap, straddling him in one fluid motion. "Was that so hard?"

Tecchou freezes, his body going completely stock-still. His eyes flicker between you and the way you're spread across him, his cheeks bright-red.

After a few moments of this, you roll your eyes. "Hurry up and pour it, so we can report back to Fukuchi."

He startles, his only response an almost imperceptible nod as his grip on the bottle tightens.

Just as he's about to pour it, he swallows thickly, hesitating. "This might sting a little."

"Tecchou, please I've been on way worse missions than this, I think I'll.." You suddenly gasp as cool liquid trickles down, your face tightening. Fuck. Fuck.

It feels like tiny shards of glass splintering all across your thigh, and you instantly jerk, squirming in his lap as you let out a wail of pain.

"Fuck! Tecchou!"

You feel him go motionless, his breathing increasing. "I know, I know." His voice is slightly strained, and gingerly, he smooths a hand over your other thigh, trying to calm you. "Just.. stay still."

You nod, your eyes screwing shut.

"Want me to keep going? It hasn't been properly disinfected yet."

“Y-yeah just.. fuck.”

He lets out a breath before pouring more of the peroxide across your wound, your hand clapping over your mouth, as you try to stifle the sobs threatening to come out. Tears stream down your face, and your body twitches atop him, shifting desperately.

His head falls forward, his breathing soft gasps. "Fuck, d-don't move like that."

You nod again, tears running down your face as you instinctively press your face into his chest. "'Msorry 'msorry! Hurts so ah bad!"

He stays unmoving, but eventually reaches one hand up to cautiously brush his fingers through your hair. "It's okay. You're okay."

You slowly steady your breathing, and after a few minutes of being pressed into him, you draw back, sniffling. "Sorry. That's so embarrassing."

He shakes his head, looking at you with something you can't quite name.

You finally clear your throat after an awkward moment, gesturing toward the bandages. "Come on. Let's just put on the bandages and get out of here."

Tecchou nods quickly, looking away as he pulls out a pack of Band-Aids. Ripping open the box, he carefully peels away the wrappers and begins pressing them on across your thigh.

On the final one, he presses it down a little too harshly, and you hiss softly, shifting, and in the process, accidentally grinding across his lap.

His eyes close briefly, and he shudders. When he finally speaks, his voice comes out ragged, "I said don't do that."

You can't help but bristle. "Yeah, well maybe if you were a little more gentle.." You break off as you feel something jabbing into you from underneath.

"Is that your gun in your pocket?"

Tecchou stills.

"Tecchou I'm serious, it's poking me. Take it out."

"That's not my gun." he says stiffly.

Oh. Oh.

You immediately freeze, your brain emptying as you stay, rooted in place, your body paralyzed on top of him.

His eyes are closed, too embarrassed to even look at you, as he breathes heavily, trying to calm himself down.

Your lips curve up.

“Tecchou, I didn’t realize I had such an effect on you.” Teasingly, you move your hand up his thigh, watching for his reaction.

His eyes fly open and he gasps, watching you. “Don’t..”

“Don’t..?” your hand glides higher. “Is this why you never want to talk to me, Tecchou? Do you have.. a crush? On me?”

His breathing is heavy, and he looks at you through half-lidded eyes. “Yes.”

You gasp in mock delight. "And here I thought you just hated me."

"Could never hate you." he mumbles out, eyes half-closed.

Your hand glides higher, and his face gets more strained. "Fuck, what are you doing?"

Your grin widens. "Just helping you."

His eyes close. "With what?"

"Your problem." And with that, your hand gently covers the tent in his pants, stroking him through his trousers.

He jerks almost instantaneously, bucking into your palm. "You don't.. ah.. have to do t-that."

You immediately draw your hand away, Tecchou's hips desperately trying to follow. "You don't want me to?"

"No! I do, I do! It's just that I.." He pauses, gnawing his lip nervously.

You raise your eyebrows, waiting for him to finish.

"I've never done this before." He lets out in a rush, his cheeks flushing in shame.

You pause.

"I know." He lets his head drop. "So if you don't..."

But he breaks off when without warning, you smash your lips against his, pushing him back. He falls back on the ground with a soft grunt leaving him as his lips desperately press back against yours, clumsily trying to fit his mouth to yours.

Guiding him, you let your hand drift back down to where his pants are straining against the outline of his cock. You can't help but moan into his mouth, as you feel how big he is.

Your tongue slips out to brush against his lips, seeking entrance and he complies immediately, his mouth opening hesitantly to allow you to explore. He tastes slightly minty, and warm, and you can't seem to get enough as your tongue sweeps all across his mouth, thoroughly mapping him out.

He groans, and you pull back, panting. "Of course I don't care if this is your first time. That just means I'll have to show you what to do."

Your mouth curves up at his exhale of surprise as you begin palming him through his pants, his breathing coming out in small huffs as he lifts his hips for more friction.

You lean back in to kiss him, while removing his belt and unzipping his maroon pants.

You push them down enough for his leaking cock to spring out, slapping against his abdomen, the tip flushed a pretty pink, and dripping with precum.

Gently, you ghost your thumb over his slit, pressing slightly, causing him to jerk forward, his breathing becoming heavier.

You take him into your hand, beginning to pump him slowly, your hand gliding up and down his lengthy shaft.

His head tilts back, and he shudders, his hips shifting forward more into your hand. Your hand was much smaller than his, and couldn't even wrap around him fully, but for some reason it felt much better than when he would do this alone.

His dick twitches in your grasp, and you twist your hand up and down, watching his breaths become more and more laboured.

As your grip tightens, picking up the pace, he starts thrusting up into your hand, more pre-cum oozing out as his hips stutter, watching you. "F-fuck I'm gonna..."

You can tell he's getting close, unused to being touched by someone else, and just as his breathing falters, his thrusts becoming sloppier into your hand, you draw your hand back, a pathetic whine leaving his throat as he stares at you, confused.

"Not yet." You start pulling down your own pants, watching as his cheeks flush.

"Wait." He sits up to bend his head over your bandaged thigh. "You're still hurt."

You roll your eyes. "I'm fine, it was just a graze, Tecchou."

He hesitates, but finally leans back. "Tell me if it hurts, and we can stop."

You nod, barely listening as you pull down your pants the rest of the way, dressed in just your Hunting Dog uniform top and your lacy black panties.

He swallows.

Your pussy had been throbbing from the second he started touching your thigh to treat you, and you couldn't deny how embarrassingly wet you already were.

Strings of arousal connect your pussy to your underwear as you hook a finger in the waistband and pull it to the side, Tecchou barely breathing as he watches, eyes wide. "I don't.." he starts.

You can't help but laugh at his tentativeness. "I'll do all the work. Just.. stay there."

As he stiffly lies back, his dick sticking up hard as a rock and still twitching from your earlier ministrations, teasingly, you begin grinding yourself against his abs, hard muscles twitching underneath you.

You knew you were making a mess out of his uniform, your slick leaving a trail of wetness across his red Hunting Dog top, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

He watches you, transfixed, his breath coming out in small pants. "Fuck, you're... fuck."

Your head falls back as you glide your dripping pussy back and forth, the roughness of the fabric contrasting with the slippery, slickness of your still clothed pussy, providing the perfect friction.

His erect cock spurts more pearly drops of pre-cum, his breaths shallow. "Please."

You stop, looking at the way his lips are parted, small gasps leaving him with every breath. "Please what?"

His eyes close. "Fuck. You know what I.."

Without warning, you lift your hips, positioning yourself over him, and begin to sink down in one fluid motion.

Without warning, and before he's even halfway in, you feel warm spurts of cum shooting into you, so much of it, it begins to seep out, forming a milky ring around his base.

Your hips stutter, and you pause, your mouth open in surprise as you look at the way his hips are twitching under you, body shuddering.

"Did you just..?"

He nods, eyes screwed tightly shut in embarrassment.

You can’t stop the small laugh that leaves you, amusement tugging your mouth up. "It’s normal for your first time, don’t worry. You’ll just have to make it up to me.”

He swallows.

Your hands come down on his chest, rising and falling rapidly, to steady yourself and with a soft gasp, sink down on the rest of his inches.

He grunts softly underneath you, still sensitive, and as he bottoms out, you curse softly, shifting as you feel his tip lightly brushing your cervix.

After the slight uncomfortable fullness fades, all you can focus on is the feel of his thick, veiny cock deep inside you, your cunt throbbing.

He groans, and lightly, you smooth some of his hair back. "I'll go slow."

Beginning to move, you lift your hips and drop them back down, gently at first and as he starts to get it, thrusting upward to help, faster.

"So.. tight." He gasps. "N-never thought I'd get to.. ah.. do this with y-you. 'S like a wet dream."

You can only moan in reply, the pace beginning to turn bruising as he repeatedly hits that plushy spot deep in your walls that makes your stomach tighten more and more with every breath.

Your cunt squelches with every thrust, your arousal pooling out combined with his cum still inside you, your back arching to take him deeper into your snug walls.

You can feel your clit pulsing, and gently, you guide his hand down to touch you there.

He jerks as his hand makes contact, and you move his hand to apply pressure. "This is how you touch a woman, Tecchou. More importantly, this is how you touch me."

Eager to please, he quickly gets the hang of it, speeding up his fingers and rubbing your clit, timing his thrusts to match up.

You feel him twitch inside you desperately, as your pussy clenches hard, the coil in your stomach tightening.

"Tecchou..." you groan, your cunt fluttering and contracting around him as white-hot pleasure overwhelms you, unable to form words to warn him as you spasm around his length, him following close behind as he spills his warm seed into you for the second time.

As you lay on top of him, both of you sticky and sweaty, and still coming down from your highs, he kisses your forehead gently. "Thank you." he says shyly, lifting you up off him to zip up his pants, you sliding your baggy, red uniform pants back on, part of it still cut from where your bullet wound is.

You can’t help but laugh, his inexperience obvious from the way he doesn’t know what to say after sex. “Let’s do it again sometime.”

It’s just then that you hear Fukuchi’s voice along with the stomping of boots that signifies two others, Jouno and Teruko close behind.

“You two! Where have you been!”

tagslist: (ask to be tagged!) @kissesmellow21 @rosebluuod @sakui1 @sayyestoheaven00

[imtryingbuck]

Fears

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: One of Bucky's biggest fears, even beyond torture, is losing his memories of you.

Word count: 817

Warnings: talks of fears. talks of torture (doesn’t happen). 

Masterlist

Natasha’s biggest fear was never being loved.

Wanda’s biggest fear was being feared.

Steve’s biggest fear was never having a real life.

Sam’s biggest fear was never being able to fly again.

Tony’s biggest fear was not being a good dad or husband.

You didn’t really know what to say what your biggest fear was, being scared of spiders seemed so silly compared to everyone else’s fears.

The six of you was sitting around in the small living room of the safe house you were all staying at until the jet came to pick you up. The mission had gone a bit wrong but was a success nonetheless. When you got to the safe house, you and Sam went straight for the fridge in hopes to find some food, Sam did a happy dance before wincing and holding on to his thigh where he had been shot.

Sitting on the couch Nat came and sat on your lap wrapping one arm around your neck, both of your arms going around her body keeping her close. Wanda sat next you, Nat instantly pulling her legs up and placing them over Wanda’s.

Steve and Tony sat in two chairs whilst Sam sat on the floor, Bucky grumbled that he was going to go and have a shower, when he passed you he placed a kiss on top of your head.

“So Buck, what’s your biggest fear?” Steve asked him once he came back from his shower. Bucky’s eyes went straight to you, and said nothing.

“Wait… you’re scared of Y/n?” Wanda questioned with a hint of amusement in her tone.

“No.”

“So… why did you look straight at her?”

“I’m scared of losing my memories of her.” He shrugged as he sat down on the floor with Sam.

“Buck-“ you tried but he cuts you off.

“I would rather be tortured for the rest of my life than lose my memories of you. That’s my biggest fear.”

With that, the conversation subject changed to something else. Something that you didn’t pay any attention to because you were too busy staring at Bucky. His answer shocked you, only because you two had only been dating for six months, you didn’t realise that you had such an effect on him.

Later that night Bucky decided to keep watch for the jet, you decided to keep him company, bringing out two bottles of water you found him sitting on the porch steps looking up at the dark sky.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you doll.” Putting his bottle down next to his feet, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders pulling you into his side. “You should get some sleep.”

“I can never sleep without you, and you know that.”

“When we get back home I promise we’ll spend all day in bed.” He rolls his eyes at seeing you raise your eyebrows up and down. “Take your head out of the gutter, you dirty girl.”

“Buck, can I ask you a question?” He hums pressing his lips to your head. “Did you really mean it? Your fear?”

“I did. The thought of losing the memory of the first time meeting you, terrifies me.”

“I made a fool of myself when we first met!”

“No you didn’t, the way I see it as when you tripped over, you was falling for me.” He laughed as you let out a deep groan, burying your face into his chest.

“Not funny!”

“It is.” He chuckles at the memory of meeting you for the first time after he came back from Wakanda, you walked in and tripped over your own feet, him moving fast to catch you, you becoming a stuttering mess - as you called yourself. If Bucky was completely honest, the second he looked into your eyes he fell in love with you, it only took him a year and a half to gain the courage to ask you out on a date, a week after your first date he asked you to be his girlfriend.

“Our first date is one of my favourite memories.” He confessed after a few minutes of silence.

“It’s mine too.”

“We were both so nervous.” He chuckles. “I would fight Hydra one by one just to make sure they don’t get me again and not because of what they would make me do, but because I know that they would wipe my mind and I would eventually lose all memory of you.”

“I won’t let them take you, you know that.”

“I know you wouldn’t doll. I love you”

“I love you more”

When the team woke up a few hours later they found you fast asleep, on Bucky’s lap curled into him as he looked down on you with such fondness and love that they had never seen before, they knew that both of you had found the happiness and love you both deeply deserved.

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77

[dancingbirdie]

Would you plz do a fic with Astarion when tav and the party looted a bunch of alcohol and take it back and drink it and celebrate at camp but tav gets a little drunk and astarion starts realising his feelings for them? 😳

I’d love astarion to take care of me after a few drinks 😂

Bless you anon, for gifting me this fic idea. It practically wrote itself and saved me from being bored all day at work. I hope you enjoy it!

A Night of Drinks and Realizations

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 3,120

Warnings/Tags: Astarion x GN!Tav, minor act 1 spoilers, drinking, drunkenness, descriptions and references to Astarion's trauma/trauma responses, FLUFF! Non-sexual HEARTWARMING FLUFF!

Song Credit: The Galway Girl by Steve Earle (I do not own rights to the music, lyrics modified slightly to fit the fic)

************************************************************************

Chultan Fireswill tasted exactly as its name suggested - like the last charcoaled bits remaining in a dying campfire. But, Tav had to admit, it got the job done. It was as strong as horse piss on a hot day. They were absolutely soused from just half a bottle. Although, to be fair, Tav hadn’t been a heavy drinker in their past life, before all this illithid tadpole business had come about. Now? Well, they supposed they had much more reason to imbibe. 

Tav sat around the campfire with most of the others, enjoying spoils from the goblin camp the party had handily defeated - mostly due to the help that Halsin and Lump the Enlightened’s group had provided. They had yet to make it back to the Emerald Grove as Halsin had requested. Utterly spent from the fighting and fleeing, Tav and the rest of the party had opted instead to rest for the night in the blighted village on the outskirts of the goblin camp. At least there were semi-usable beds in some of the abandoned buildings. 

Shortly after setting up camp, Gale had retired early, eager to continue reading some of the dusty tomes he’d been collecting throughout their journey. Astarion had slunk off in search of something to satiate his thirst, leaving the rest of the group in various states of relaxation around the fire. It was a quiet, peaceful evening. Everyone seemed to be deep in their own thoughts, ruminating.

That was until Tav hiccupped loudly, breaking the thoughtful silence that had overtaken the party. Karlach guffawed at the sound, smacking her hands on her thighs.

“Tav’s absolutely PISSED, look at them!” she managed between cackles. The other party members turned to observe them, curious. They had all been running about, fighting, nonstop for the past few days. No one in the party had ever been well and truly drunk in front of the others. There just hadn’t been the time, or the relative safety, to be inebriated.

Tav blinked blearily at Karlach across the bonfire, trying to focus. “‘M not,” they garbled. “‘M perffc-ly fine.”

“Chk. Your tolerance for this weak slop is an embarrassment,” Lae’zel spat from her seat next to Tav. “Give me that,” she said as she grabbed the bottle from their hand, upturning it and consuming the rest of the foul liquid in one go. 

Tav smiled amiably and patted her on the knee. “You’re *hiccup* lovely. I forgive you *hiccup* for takin’ my drink.”

Lae’zel stared at them, eyes widened to the size of saucers. Wyll, Shadowheart, and Karlach were nearly bursting at the seams to keep from laughing openly. 

“I do not require your forgiveness, ska’keth,” she snapped. 

Tav just giggle-hiccupped and smiled again. Looking to the rest of the party, they put a hand to their mouth and stage-whispered, “she’s a little grumpy, that one.”

At this, they all laughed uproariously. Lae’zel rolled her eyes, reaching for another bottle of alcohol piled near the rest of the camp supplies.

“YOU-GUYS,” Tav suddenly shouted in a slur, tottering over to snatch up a new bottle of Chultan Fireswill. “We should have a party. Like, right now, have a party.” 

“FUCK YES!” Karlach cheered, chucking an empty mead bottle onto the ground with a resounding crash. “I’m all in, baby,” she said, reaching for an unopened bottle of Ithbank.

“Here, here,” Shadowheart echoed, raising her own bottle. “We could do with a bit of levity and foolishness, I think. Does anyone play an instrument? Some music would be lovely.”

“It’s been a few years but I believe I can still pluck a few tunes on the lyre. Let me give it a go,” Wyll replied, rummaging through his pack supplies to retrieve the instrument. 

Moments later, he began plucking a jovial tune that had everyone besides Lae’zel tapping their feet and nodding to the music. After it finished, he continued with a dancing jig Tav was familiar with from the taverns in Waterdeep, although most of the footwork eluded them in their drunken state. 

“Where’s Gale and Astarion?” Tav shouted in a sing-song voice, twirling around in a laughable attempt at dancing. “Wake their asses up and tell them we’re having a party!” 

“No need for ass-waking, at least for me,” Gale called, joining the party from the direction of one of the abandoned houses. “No one can get an ounce of sleep with you lot frolicking around the fire.” 

“GALE!” Tav shrieked as they dance-skipped over to him, tripping slightly and smashing into his chest. “You made it!”

Chivalrous as ever, the wizard kindly grabbed Tav’s arms to keep them upright and restore some semblance of balance to their swaying form. “Quite literally impossible to miss it, Tav. Your voice carries extraordinarily well,” he replied, chuckling.

Tav gave him a rueful smile. “I drank, jus’ a lil’,” they explained. 

At this, his face broke into a wide grin. “I can certainly see that. Looks like I’ve got a lot of catching up to do if I'm to match the rest of you!” 

He guided Tav over to where Shadowheart was sitting, delicately perched on an old traveler’s trunk near the fire. “Perhaps stay here while I go peruse our stockpile.” 

Tav plopped down unceremoniously next to Shadowheart, who quirked a smile. “Enjoying ourselves are we?” she asked.

“Oh yes,” Tav sighed out. “Although it would be even better if Astarion joined us. Where IS he?” they asked, swiveling their head around the village square, hoping to spot his telltale white blonde locks. 

“I’m sure he’ll turn up eventually. Maybe he caught himself a big bear and is drinking it dry,” Shadowheart said teasingly.

Tav nodded seriously, “He deserves the biggest bear, ever,” they said, absolutely failing to notice the joke. 

Shadowheart scoffed. “Lovesick, little pup?” 

Tav giggled, abruptly hiccupped, and then giggled again at that. 

“He’s just beautiful,” they finally replied in a dreamy sort of voice. 

And then, “Inside and out,” they added, more softly.

Shadowheart threw her head back with a laugh. “Oh gods! You really are lovesick.”

Tav hummed happily. “I think I am, but - OH MY GODS!”

“What?” Shadowheart shouted, startled and peering about to assess the apparently impending danger. 

“I LOVE THIS SONG!” Tav shrieked, jumping to their feet and swaying about once more as Wyll began playing another lively tune. 

Confession utterly forgotten, they were lost to the strumming of the lyre, spinning like a top that might never stop. 

************************************************************************

Astarion had not planned to eavesdrop on the conversation between Tav and Shadowheart as he made his way back toward the camp. Truly, he hadn’t. But, at the mention of his name from Tav, he couldn’t help but wonder what the conversation was about. 

Stepping quietly around the corner of the decrepit tavern, he paused to listen. His heightened senses easily picked up on their voices as clear as if he would be standing next to them. 

Tav had… feelings for him? Astarion didn’t know what to do with this information. Why were they admitting this so openly? And to a person they barely knew? Was this a ploy? Was Tav banking on him hearing this supposed confession and trying to lull him into some false sense of security? The paranoid part of his mind was absolutely convinced of it.

But no, surely that couldn’t be it, another more reasonable part of his brain asserted. Lost in his thoughts, he observed Tav whirling about the campfire with their bottle of booze spilling out. They accidentally doused Lae’zel with a spurt of liquid, causing the Githyanki to swear loudly and move to the other side of the campfire. 

Astarion huffed a laugh. No, Tav was… many things… but devious was not one of them. He had observed them enough throughout their travels the last few days and had come to the conclusion that Tav was as harmless as a week-old pup to those they liked and trusted. They were genuine, transparent, and… open… to his utter confusion. And, okay yes, his considerable annoyance. 

But Astarion was truly hard-pressed to remain annoyed at Tav for long. They were just so gods-damned pure. As pure as the sun’s rays. Being annoyed with them was like being annoyed at the sun for existing. It couldn’t help what it was. Tav couldn’t help who they were. It would be a mistake, a waste of time, to despise them for their nature. 

He envied them for that. But above all else, if he were being totally honest with himself, he craved their attention just as much as he relished the actual sunbeams he’d been able to feel on his skin for the first time in over 200 years. 

But still, Astarion had no idea how to process this revelation, that the-pure-sun-incarnate-Tav had love for him. Love. Not merely lust, desire, or attraction. Now those he was familiar with.  Those had been a currency he’d transacted on Cazador’s behalf for so many years. But love? Love was an unknown concept to him. It had never been something he’d tried to cultivate in the minds of his victims. Astarion wasn’t even sure he understood what love actually was.  

A series of loud bangs startled him from his circling thoughts. He looked up and chuckled at the sight he beheld.

Tav had found several scrolls of minor illusion in Gale’s packs and had begun to set off fireworks. Bright green, pink, and yellow sparks were careening into the sky, exploding into images of flowers and pixies to the utter delight of Tav. The rest of the party were loitering about, laughing at Tav as they clapped their hands in joy. 

Seeing as this would perhaps be the best time to integrate himself into the party, Astarion strolled toward the campfire. Grabbing a bottle of some cheap swill they’d looted, he took a seat beside Shadowheart and nodded in a cheers sort of motion to the cleric. She raised her bottle in acknowledgement. 

“Come to watch the wonder that is Tav utterly debauched?” she quipped.

“I must say, I rather like them like this, all uninhibited and bawdy” he replied, his eyes following Tav as they danced and gyrated their way over to Wyll, who was plucking out another familiar tavern tune.  

“Wyll, do you know the song ‘The Amphail Girl’?” Tav asked too loudly, hiccupping.

“I do, but gods Tav, I don’t know that I’ve ever tried playing it,” Will admitted.

“Okay, okay,” Tav sighed in a mock-morose tone, stopping Wyll from playing by placing a hand on the lyre strings. “Then you must pass the lyre my friend and be ready to take some *hiccup* notes.”

Wyll, ever the good sport of the group, obliged Tav’s demand and relinquished the instrument. 

Astarion chuckled. “Oh, dear. They’re not about to actually put on a performance, are they?” he asked in a somewhat-rhetorical question toward Shadowheart.

She chuckled. “It appears so. Liquid courage really does wonders, it seems.”

They both watched as Tav began plucking at the strings of the lyre until they stitched together the right tune. After a few beats of strumming, they began to sing.

“I took a stroll down the old long walk

Of the day I-ay-I-ay

I met a little girl and we stopped to talk

Of a fine soft day I-ay

And I ask you friends, what's a fella to do?

Because her hair was black and her eyes were blue

And I knew right then I been takin' a whirl

Down the Salthill Prom with an Amphail girl”

The entire party watched, enraptured, as Tav sang the lyrics in a beautiful, high tenor voice. Their hands never missed a chord, performing as though they knew the song by heart. 

“Did you cast Guidance on them?” Astarion whispered to Shadowheart, as Tav strummed the bridge of the song. 

“No, I haven’t touched my magic since this afternoon,” she replied. “This is all Tav. Shocking, considering how inebriated they are.”

It seemed the rest of the party members were in equal disbelief that their drunken compatriot could perform so flawlessly. Tav continued the song, smiling as they sang, eyes closed and blissfully unaware of the stares they had garnered. 

“We were halfway there when the rain came down

On the day I-ay-I-ay

She asked me up to her flat downtown

On a fine soft day I-ay

And I ask you friends, what's a fella to do?

Because her hair was black and her eyes were blue

So I took her hand, and I gave her a twirl

Oh, and I lost my heart to an Amphail Girl”

And the longer Tav sang, the longer Astarion realized there were cracks now forming in his long-held aloof façade. There they were, singing with their heart and soul, radiating unobtrusive joy. Astarion was enamored by Tav’s utter lack of pretense. He couldn’t take his eyes off them, even if he had wanted to.

“When I woke up I was all alone

With a broken heart and a ticket home

And I ask you now, tell me what would you do?

If her hair was black and her eyes were blue

'Cause I've travelled around, I've been all over this world

Boys, I've never seen nothin' like an Amphail girl”

Tav concluded the song with a final series of strums. They opened their eyes slowly and looked around curiously at the party, as though they had forgotten where they had been before the song began. Astarion thought they had an almost ethereal look in their eyes. Everyone had grown quiet, the meaningful pause leading them toward more introspective thoughts.

Of course, that was before Tav doubled over and hurled the contents of their stomach on the ground. In a blink, that otherworldly moment was gone, and the party members groaned at the mess of ick now puddling in the center of their circle. 

Tav wobbled on their feet, very nearly careening to the ground. 

Strong arms caught them about the waist before they collapsed. 

“Now, now darling, the fun is truly over, it seems. Let’s get you to bed, shall we?” Astarion coaxed, leading Tav toward the tavern. 

“You alright taking care of them, then?” Karlach called after him and Tav. 

“Yes, yes, I can keep the pup from choking on their vomit,” Astarion promised.

“And make sure they drink plenty of water!” Shadowheart added.

“Astarion?” Tav mumbled, seeming to finally come to, blinking up at the pale elf’s face. 

“Yes, darling, I’ve got you,” he murmured, an arm wrapped solidly around Tav’s waist. 

“Oh good. Did you get a beat grig bear? Oops,” Tav chuckled, grinning. “I meant a great… big… bear. Shadowheart *hiccup* said you would.”

Astarion didn’t have a bloody clue as to what Tav was talking about, but he nodded along, charmed by their innocent look of excitement.

“We should drink to celebrate!” they said suddenly. 

Astarion well and truly laughed. “No, my dear, I think we’ve both done enough drinking for the night,” he responded. 

Tav sighed. “I suppose you could be right,” they grumbled.

The two fell into a companionable silence. Astarion carefully walked Tav up the steps of the tavern and guided them toward an old boarding room near the back. There was a bed there, mostly left untouched by grime and pests. In any case, it was a more favorable alternative to sleeping on the ground.

Gently, Astarion pushed Tav to sit down on the edge of the bed. Crouching to his knees, he began pulling their boots off their feet. Tav watched in a daze before lifting a hand to cup Astarion’s cheek. 

Concentrating on the laces of Tav’s boots, he hadn’t been expecting their touch. He jumped slightly in surprise. Casual touches were not something he was used to. 

At his response, Tav removed their hand from his skin but kept it floating there in the air, as if unsure what to do. 

“Sorry,” they murmured. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Astarion held their gaze, pondering them thoughtfully. After a moment, he took Tav’s hand and returned it to his cheek. 

“It’s all right,” he said quietly. “I’m beginning not to mind those touches from you.”

Tav gave him a sleepy smile. “Thank you, Astarion,” they whispered and began to slump over onto the bed. 

“No no, not yet you don’t,” Astarion said hastily, rising to his feet and walking over to fetch a carafe of water from his pack. 

“Here. Drink all of this,” he said, extending the bottle to Tav.

“I don’t want water,” they said, frowning. 

“Trust me, darling, you’ll thank me for it in the morning,” Astarion chuckled. 

Tav gave a sullen huff. “Fine, but only because you asked.”

They downed the carafe in a couple of drinks before collapsing back onto the bed. 

Satisfied that Tav wouldn’t perish from alcohol poisoning - at least not tonight - Astarion made to leave the room. A quiet voice gave him pause just as he was about to cross the threshold. 

“Could you stay with me, please?” Tav whispered, watching Astarion through half-closed eyes. 

Astarion balked inwardly. Staying in the same bed with Tav would mean something. To Tav. To him. Was he prepared for that? What would Tav expect from him then, in the days that followed? Was this a step toward some kind of commitment? Did he want that?

As the seconds ticked by, he watched Tav’s eyelids close completely. They may not have even been aware that they had uttered that request aloud. They certainly weren’t aware of the effect it had on Astarion. He could just as easily pretend not to have heard them and walk out the door, leaving things as they were between them now: a curious potential.

But watching Tav’s chest slowly rise and fall with peaceful breaths, Astarion felt that craving again. The desire to be in the warm sun. To be touched by the sun’s rays. 

Fears be damned, he thought. At least for tonight. He could have this moment, he reasoned. He could have this one night. 

And, climbing into bed next to Tav, a part of him thrilled at the way their body turned and curled into his. The complete and total trust they had in him, that he wouldn’t harm them. That he - Astarion - was a safe harbor in which they could rest. 

The realization was too much to take in. So foreign. His mind couldn’t make sense of it. 

But, as he lay there in the quiet, his hand gently brushing Tav’s locks back from their forehead, listening to their even breaths, Astarion knew one thing. Whatever this new feeling was that Tav was drawing out of him? He wanted more than just a few stolen moments of it.

[gilverrwrites]

I love your sex dream hcs and was wondering if you could do Lucifer having an F!reader erotic dream, please? 😁 @tocastielandback

Lucifer/Reader, ≈800 words

Request Info | Masterlist | Ko-Fi

I must apologise that this is not as explicit as the previous ones, but this just felt right. Rated: M

>[TFW Version Here]<

CW: Body worship, (hints of) powerplay, Dom!Lucifer (if you squint)

Please remember: You are allowed to love yourself.

The feel of your body against his is simultaneously unsettling and highly pleasurable. Your soft lips pepper kisses up and down his chest, warming his cool skin with every touch. He bites at his lip, holding back shivers of appreciation as you work your way upward pressing your own lips against his collar, throat, and jaw. You’re almost at face level, and you incline upwards, pursing your lips, ready to connect them with his own. Instead, he places his hand against your collarbone, splaying his fingers to stretch either side. Forcing your body backwards, his lips spreading into an amused grin. “What’s so funny?” You peer at him quizzically through heavy lids. “You.” He teases, enjoying the way you pout in response. “What would your precious friends think if they saw you like this? Worshipping ‘the devil’?”  “I wouldn’t care.” Your voice, and especially your words, are music to his ears. He promptly releases his hold on your neck, sliding his hand around your back and pulling you in for your reward.

You’re sat, hunched over a desk, nose buried in some dusty old tome when he finds you. Without thinking or caring, he leans over you from behind, planting his hands against the table on either side of you, confining you as he breathes in your scene. He has no idea if it's au naturale or artificial, but it is intoxicating nonetheless, and completely synonymous with you. 

To your credit, you keep your composure, but he can sense the increase in your heart rate.

“What are you doing?” Your voice is slow, deliberate, guarded. He wants so badly to strip away your armour.

“Can’t I just want to see my favourite human?” He chimes.

You don’t respond, refocusing on your book. A pang of petty jealousy? Rejection? Some nonsense ape-like emotion hits him, and he huffs as he pulls away from you. He relocates to the chair beside you, smug at the side eye you shoot him when he haphazardly kicks his feet onto the table.

When your silence persists, he feels the need to fill it.

“Well, since you really want to know, I truly am here to see you.” Still nothing. “I wanted to tell you about a dream I had.”

“Angels don’t dream.” You reply matter-of-factly, and he relishes in knowing he’s about to school you.

“Actually, yes, we do. As an Archangel, I would know.” He enunciates his point with the wag of his finger. Your eyes follow his hand, and he can’t help but wiggle all four of them, knowing he’s caught your attention. “We just have no practical need to sleep, so we don’t do it often.”

“Right.” You sound sceptical, and your sweet, sweet, attention is short-lived as you refocus on the desk. “And what does this have to do with me?”

Keen to draw you back to him, he taps his finger on the desk beside you. When you look at it, he points to himself, guiding you.  You sigh and roll your eyes before you look to his face. He might have been offended, but there’s a playful glint in your eye and growing warmth in your aura that tells him you’re enjoying his company more than you’d like to let one.

“Because you…” He gestures back and forth between you both. “Were in it.”

You blink once, twice; processing. When it settles, you proceed to stare at him, waiting for him to go on. He pointedly stares back at you in silence, folding his arms to display his new authority in this little dynamic. He’s piqued your curiosity, but now you’ll have to ask him for satisfaction.

You’re undeniably cute. Watching your expressions and mannerisms play out as you process his statement, as you realise your predicament, amuses him greatly. You turn back to your work, then to him again, and back and forth as you deliberate between your primary two options. To ask or not to ask. Eventually, the temptation wins out.  

“And?” You raise your brows expectantly. “What happened?”

“If you want to know, you’ll have to ask nicer than that.” He’s pushing his luck, and he knows it, but he’s confident you’re already too hooked to back out now.

You purse your lip as you calculate your next move. The image is unintentionally charming to him. He wonders if you’ll bite now, or if you’ll take the hard-to-get route, pretending you don’t want to know. Either is equally appealing to him, because he’s certain he’ll win out in the end.

Dropping his feet to the floor, he places an elbow on the table just inches from your arm, he uses it for balance as he leans in closer, keeping his expression as straight as possible. “Well?”

The beat of your heart is picking up again; you’re on edge, and he loves it.

“Okay, fine.” You concede. He feels his face twist, like the cat that got the cream, as you continue. “Please, Lucifer?”

[milk-tea-sakura]

💀𝐵𝑜𝑟𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑒.💀

𝓒𝔀: 𝓕𝓵𝓾𝓯𝓯 𝔀/ 𝓪 𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓫𝓲𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓐𝓷𝓰𝓼𝓽, 𝓕𝓮𝓶! 𝓻𝓮𝓪��𝓮𝓻, 𝓾𝓼𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓨/𝓷, 𝓮𝔁𝓱𝓪𝓾𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷, 𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓫𝓮𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓮𝓷𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱

𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 1,384

𝓔𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮: 5 𝓶𝓲𝓷 24 𝓼𝓮𝓬

💀𝐵𝑜𝑟𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑒.💀

Ghost was sitting quietly in the makeshift barracks, his thoughts a whirlwind of adrenaline and exhaustion from their recent mission. His gaze drifted around the room, taking in the faces of his fellow teammates—Soap, Gaz, and Price—all of whom were showing signs of fatigue after the intense operation.

His eyes eventually landed on Y/n, who was sitting quietly on a cot not too far from him. She looked just as exhausted as the rest of them. Still, there was something different about her expression - a hint of vulnerability beneath the stern mask she wore.

Ghost couldn't help but feel a pang of concern for her. Y/n was a tough soldier, every bit as skilled as any of his male teammates. But despite her strength and independence, he knew that the mission had taken a toll on her just as it had on all of them.

He watched as Y/n sat on the edge of her makeshift bed; her shoulders slumped slightly as she stared off into space. Ghost couldn't help but admire her strength and resilience, but he also couldn't ignore the weary look in her eyes.

As the minutes ticked by, Ghost's gaze remained fixed on Y/n, watching as she seemed to retreat further into her thoughts. It was clear that the stress of the mission had left her drained, and she was struggling to process everything that had happened.

Despite the fact that they were both wearing face masks, Ghost could tell that Y/n was close to her breaking point. He could see it in the tight set of her shoulders, in the way her eyes had a distant, unfocused look.

Ghost could feel the pull of a strange, protective instinct within him. He had never been one to show much emotion, but something about Y/n's vulnerability at that moment tugged at his heartstrings.

Without saying a word, he stood up from his seat and walked slowly over to where Y/n was sitting. She looked up as he approached, surprise flickering across her weary face.

"You okay?" Ghost asked gruffly, his normally stoic expression softened with a hint of concern. He dropped down to sit on the edge of her cot, his eyes never leaving her face.

Y/n gave him a small, tired smile. "Yeah," she said, her voice raspy with exhaustion. "Just...just tired, I guess."

Ghost studied her for a moment, his gaze sharp and perceptive. He could tell that there was more to it than just exhaustion, but he didn't press. Instead, he just nodded, his eyes never leaving hers.

"We all are," he said quietly, his voice gruff but gentle. "That mission was a hell of a ride."

Y/n nodded in silent agreement, her weary eyes meeting his. They sat there in silence for a few moments, the sounds of the base around them faded to background noise as they both took comfort in each other's presence.

"You did good out there," Ghost said suddenly, his voice almost a whisper. "You were in the thick of it, and you held your own."

"Never thought I would get a compliment from you Ghost," Y/n replied tiredly.

Ghost let out a soft huff of a laugh. "Don't get used to it," he muttered, his eyes still trained on her face. "But you deserve credit where credit is due."

Y/n chuckled softly, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You, giving out compliments? Something must be seriously wrong," she teased, her voice laced with exhaustion and humor.

Ghost rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smirk on his lips. "Don't push your luck," he warned, but there was no real heat behind his words.

They fell into silence again, but it was less tense now. There was a sort of comfort in the quiet. After several moments, Y/n spoke up, her voice soft. "Hey, Ghost?"

Ghost turned his head to look at her, his gaze focused. "Yeah?" he asked, his voice gruff but attentive.

Y/n took a shuddering breath, her eyes fixed on his. "Can I ask you something?" she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ghost raised an eyebrow slightly but nodded, his expression curious. "Sure," he said. "What is it?"

Y/n fidgeted for a moment, her fingers picking at a loose thread on the cot. "It's just..." she began, her voice trembling slightly. "I need to ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me, alright?"

Ghost felt a twinge of concern at the vulnerability in her voice, but he nodded again, silently signaling for her to continue.

Y/n sucked in a deep breath, her body tense with nerves. "Do you...do you think I'm weak because I'm a woman?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Ghost's eyes widened in surprise at the question, his expression hardening. He stared at her for a long moment, incredulous.  "What the hell kind of question is that?" he asked gruffly, shaking his head in disbelief.

Y/n looked away, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I don't know," she mumbled. "It's just...I feel like I always have something to prove, you know? Like I have to work twice as hard to be taken seriously because I'm a woman."

Ghost's expression softened slightly at her words. He understood the feeling all too well, having experienced it himself as a soldier. "You're not weak," he said firmly. "Being a woman doesn't make you weak. You're a damn good soldier, Y/n, you know that, right?"

Y/n nodded, her eyes still fixed on the ground. "Yeah," she muttered. "But sometimes I feel like it doesn't matter how good I am. It's like people look at me and just see my gender, not my skills."

Ghost was quiet for a moment, mulling over her words. "You want my honest opinion?" he asked, his voice gruff but gentle.

"Obviously"

Ghost took a deep breath, his gaze meeting hers. "The people who only see your gender, the ones who don't see how skilled you are...they're blind," he stated bluntly. "You're a damn good soldier, Y/n, gender be damned. You've proved that time and time again. And anyone who can't see that...well, they're idiots."

Y/n looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise at his harsh yet honest words. "That...that means a lot coming from you, Ghost," she murmured, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

Ghost nodded, his expression softening even further. "You've earned my respect, Y/n," he said gruffly. "You've earned it a hundred times over. You don't need to prove anything to me or anyone else."

As the conversation ended, a comfortable silence settled over the room. Ghost and Y/n sat side by side on the cot, the exhaustion from the mission still heavy in the air, but the tension between them had dissipated.

Ghost spoke up after a few moments, his voice low and gentle. "You should get some rest," he said, his eyes flickering to her tired form.

Y/n huffed a soft, tired laugh. "Yeah, you're probably right," she agreed, sagging further back against the cot. "But I doubt I'll be able to sleep just yet."

Ghost nodded, his gaze studying her for a moment. "I know the feeling," he said quietly. "But you need to try. You won't do yourself any favors by running on empty."

Ghost gave a small shrug. "I'm used to it," he said matter-of-factly. "I've gone days on end without sleep before. But you, you need your rest. You're human, after all."

Y/n rolled her eyes, a hint of a smile on her weary face. "Gee, thanks for reminding me," she drawled, her tone laced with sarcasm.

Ghost chuckled softly, the sound a rare display of his amusement. "Anytime," he said dryly. "Now, try and get some rest, yeah?"

Y/n sighed, her exhaustion finally overpowering her resistance. "Yeah, I guess I should give it a shot," she admitted reluctantly. "But wake me up if anything happens, okay?"

Ghost didn't respond immediately, his gaze drifting over her tired features. Finally, he nodded slightly. "I will," he said quietly, his voice gruff but sincere.

[shitsndgiggs]

Hiii! Can you write one about Kenan where him and the gf are just chilling at his house after his training please? Thank you so much!❤️

SAFE HAVEN - KENAN YILDIZ

Chilling with Kenan after a long day

Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The sun was beginning its descent, casting a warm, golden hue over Kenan's living room.

After a long day of training, Kenan and I were finally able to relax. He had just returned home, and we were lounging on his couch, enjoying the peaceful evening.

Kenan stretched his arms above his head and let out a satisfied sigh. "Man, it's good to be home. Training was intense today."

I smiled, scooting closer to him. "You did great, though. I watched some of the clips online."

He turned to me, a playful glint in his eyes. "Did you now? Were you checking out my moves, or just me?"

I rolled my eyes, laughing. "A little bit of both, maybe."

He chuckled, pulling me into his side. "You're the best cheerleader I could ask for."

We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, listening to the faint sounds of the city outside.

Kenan's hand absentmindedly traced patterns on my arm, sending shivers down my spine.

"Hey," he said suddenly, breaking the silence. "Wanna watch a movie?"

I nodded enthusiastically. "Sure! What do you have in mind?"

Kenan grinned mischievously. "How about something scary?"

I groaned playfully. "You know I hate scary movies."

"That's why it'll be fun," he teased. "I get to protect you from all the monsters."

"Fine, but if I get nightmares, it's your fault," I warned.

He laughed, grabbing the remote and scrolling through the movie options. We finally settled on a thriller that promised just the right amount of suspense without being too terrifying.

As the movie started, I nestled into Kenan's side, feeling the warmth of his body next to mine.

Every time a suspenseful moment happened, he would tighten his grip around me, and I couldn't help but laugh at his over-the-top reactions.

"Kenan, I think you're more scared than I am," I teased, poking his side.

He feigned offense. "Hey, I'm just being protective. Gotta make sure you don't get too scared."

I raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh, sure."

Halfway through the movie, a particularly tense scene made us both jump. Kenan's reaction was so exaggerated that I burst into laughter, nearly spilling the popcorn bowl.

"Okay, okay, maybe I am a little jumpy," he admitted, laughing along with me.

As the credits rolled, I let out a relieved sigh. "Well, that was something."

Kenan grinned, turning to face me. "You survived. Proud of you."

I playfully shoved his shoulder. "Thanks, I guess."

He leaned in closer, his eyes softening. "I'm really glad you're here, you know."

My heart fluttered at his words. "Me too, Kenan."

He brushed a strand of hair away from my face, his touch gentle. "You make everything better."

Before I could respond, he pressed his lips to mine in a sweet, tender kiss. I melted into him, feeling the world fade away.

When we finally pulled apart, I rested my forehead against his. "I think we should make this a regular thing."

He smiled, his eyes sparkling. "Absolutely. Just you, me, and a lot of movie nights."

As we settled back into the couch, wrapped up in each other's arms, I knew that there was nowhere else I would rather be.

Kenan was my safe haven, my best friend, and my everything. And in that moment, I couldn't have been happier.

[reqxxyt]

braids

pairings: lando n. x f!reader

warnings: a bit of implication (?), very short (promise the next will be 1K)… I kind of hate this one (😭)

masterlist requests are open!

[unedited]

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Can I braid your hair?'' That question came out of nowhere as I was massaging Landos scalp. I gave him a strange look as I stopped my hands, now resting them on his shoulders while he leaned onto me in the middle of watching a movie I had begged him to watch for the longest time. He turned to me with soft eyes. 

“Are you that bored of the movie?” I asked and he immediately shook his head not wanting you to feel offended. 

“I saw this tutorial online and it looked easy enough but I clearly can’t do it on my own” he blabbed about it for a couple of seconds before turning back to me, with pleading eyes asking again. 

I shrugged and let out a simple okay seeing no problem with it as long as he won’t tangle it so terribly. He shuffled around now sitting behind me, gathering pieces of my hair making sure not to yank them too harshly. We sat in silence when he did the first twist. 

It felt nice having him braid my hair, comforting almost. Since I was younger, my mom braided my hair practically every day but after my teenage years, I never wore braids again. His fingers would brush my hair before splitting them into three, intertwining them on each other, putting all his focus on my hair. 

“Sure this is your first time?” I asked curiously as he seemed to have little struggle with braiding for, according to him, his first time. He just hummed, paying little attention to what exactly I was asking, lost in the pattern he created. I just smiled to myself as I felt him near the end of the piece. 

He dropped the braid, realizing he didn't have anything to secure it and before he even had to ask, I handed him a hair band that was before wrapped around your wrist. He just grabbed it, picking back up the braid and soon securing it feeling proud of his creation. 

“Face me” he requested and I just did as he said, his eyes trailing from the tip of my hair to the braid now falling on my side shoulder. “Pretty” he said, giving me a small kiss, I leaned towards him yearning for more, feeling safe near him wanting every crevice of your body to touch his own. 

“You did so good baby” I complimented finally feeling the braid that he did. His cheeks turned a light pink, with a shy smile making your own brighten from the effect you had on him. He just thanked me, bringing his eye gaze back to make eye contact, “How can I repay you”

My seductive gaze was quite obvious, at least that’s what I intended it to be but he just shook his head, missing the point as he said “No payments, just wanted practice” my smirk only turned to a smile, appreciating his oblivious results and not pushing it any further as I sat back down, turning around to have my back against his chest watching the rest of the movie until it soon finished. 

I didn’t quite notice how quiet Lando appeared to be until the credits rolled and I heard light snores from behind me. I giggled to myself, turning off the TV, covering both of our bodies underneath the covers, tracing my fingers over the braided pattern he had created not too long ago before sending myself into a deep slumber. 

[asacredthebread]

Cocky Corrections

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

Sam x F!Reader - 18+

𝙵𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜, 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎?

Warnings/Themes: Sub Sam, Begging, Whining, Teasing, Drinking, Slight Public, Cocky behaviour, Handjob

wc; 5794

taglist - @musicislove3389 @peaceloveunitygvf @jazzyfigz @sarahbethgvf

It was one of those late summer evenings, where the air was thick with humid warmth, and the golden light of the setting sun streamed through the open windows of the bar. The small space was buzzing with laughter and the clinking of glasses, creating a comforting ambiance that made you feel right at home. You sat at a round table with Sam, Jake, Josh, and Danny after an exhausting but exhilarating band practice, the remnants of their efforts lingering like a distant echo of a concert yet to come.

Sam, with his long brown hair cascading down his back and his expressive brown eyes sparkling with mischief, sat confidently at the table, an amber pint cradled in his hands. You couldn’t help but admire him from the corner of your eye as he animatedly recounted some trivial band drama from earlier that day. His natural charm had a way of pulling everyone into his stories, and as he spoke, he leaned back in his chair, a sly smile playing on his lips.

"Maybe if we had a little more practice and a little less bickering, we’d actually get song down," Sam joked, shooting a teasing look at Jake, who feigned innocence, rolling his eyes with a smirk. “But who am I kidding? You’d probably drown in the spotlight anyway.”

Danny erupted into laughter, his infectious humor infusing the atmosphere with a lightness that evoked chuckles from everyone around. Josh, the softer-spoken one of the ensemble, sat quietly, a tender smile on his face as he watched the dynamic play out. You felt the warmth of laughter wrapping around you, but there was a different energy pulsing between you and Sam—a tangible undercurrent that suggested a different side to him.

As he continued to boast and banter with his brothers and Danny, he seemed to grow more animated. His laugh was louder, his gestures more exaggerated. You knew that within this confident façade lay a completely different person; one who thrived on your approval and craved your guiding hand. The thought was enough to propel a small smile to your lips, one that Sam occasionally caught when his eyes flicked toward your direction.

“Really, dude, you should just stick to playing bass,” Jake said, shaking his head, a smirk lacing his words. “You know pushing your weight around can’t cover up your lack of rhythm.”

“Oh, come on!” Sam waved a dismissive hand, but there was a glimmer of mock frustration in his eyes. “I’m practically the backbone of this band. Without me, you’d all be lost.”

You caught his gaze, and it held a challenge—an invitation wrapped in bravado. One part of you wanted to encourage that cockiness, to let him bask in the limelight he thrived in, but another part couldn’t resist giving him the knowing look that shifted the power dynamic. It was a brief glance that carried with it the understanding of your complex relationship, unspoken yet resonant. In these moments of confidence, he was the band’s star—a leader, a showman—but in private, he could be so achingly tender, his demeanor a stark contrast that only you truly recognized.

Sam's smile faltered for just a second, as if registering the subtle shift in energy between you both. The façade of bravado smoothed out, giving way to a flicker of something deeper—perhaps vulnerability or yearning. But the spell was soon broken, and he filled the silence with a quick quip meant to catch everyone’s attention again.

“Alright, alright, I guess I’ll take all the credits then. Just know that when we blow up, I’ll expect a bigger share of the profits!” he declared with a laugh, slamming his pint down on the table in a triumph that earned him a chorus of playful groans from the others.

You couldn't help but smile at him. Watching his rapid shifts from cocky bravado to a deeper introspection was always a show you enjoyed. There was something intoxicating about being the one who held that subtle sway over him—a power balance steeped in trust. Balancing the roles he played on stage and off, you relished the parts you understood—how he fed off the energy of the room, yet yearned for more from you in a space only meant for two.

As the night continued, the laughter and teasing filled up the air, creating a warm blanket that wrapped around all of you. But within that vibrancy, you could still sense Sam’s playful arrogance masking the deeper layers of who he truly was—a man yearning for guidance, for connection, and most important, for you.

As the evening rolled on, the lively banter among the band intensified, fueled by drinks and camaraderie. Sam leaned further into the spotlight, transforming into the embodiment of rock star charisma. He tossed his hair back with an exaggerated flourish, his body radiating confidence as he declared, “It’s official: I was born to own that stage! When I step out there, it’s like the world fades away and all that remains is me and the music. Everyone else is just background noise!”

The table erupted into laughter and cheers, a chorus of encouragement that fed into Sam's bravado. He gestured widely, mimicking the movements he might display on a stage—a grand rock star performance at its finest. “You know those moments when I grab the mic and the audience goes wild? That’s all me, baby! I’ll have you guys begging for an encore! I’ve seen it, all the signs, it’s me and my woah’s against the world!”

As he recounted the latest practice where he imagined himself commanding the crowd, you watched him intently, your gaze piercing through the playful banter that surrounded you. There was a glimmer of pride in your chest, mixed with something akin to urgency. Sam was riding high on the waves of confidence, but you knew the others—caught up in their cheers—weren’t fully aware of the path he was navigating with more than just bravado.

As Sam gestured animatedly to make his point, you leaned in slightly, letting the heat of your body brush against his, sending an unspoken warning through the space between you. You shot him a look—sharp yet teasing—a promise that he would be held accountable for this newfound arrogance. There was something about the way his eyes sparkled in that moment, a flicker of realization mixed with challenge, as if he eagerly accepted your silent contract.

Not wanting to let the opportunity slip away, you placed your hand lightly on his thigh, just above his kneecap, allowing your fingertips to graze his jeans as you locked your eyes onto his. The gesture was casual enough for the others to remain oblivious, but you could feel the heat radiating from him as he paused mid-sentence, caught in the tension brewing between you.

His expression shifted slightly at the contact, his cockiness momentarily fading to reveal something more vulnerable, almost blissful. A mix of surprise and thrill danced behind those expressive brown eyes as he fought to maintain his swagger while your hand teased him subtly.

“My sweet boy,” you said quietly, your voice soft but laden with meaning, emphasizing the appropriate mix of intimacy and authority. “You might own the stage, but don’t forget who keeps you grounded here.”

The words hung in the air, and you could practically see him weighing the balance of defiance and submission in that moment. Around the table, Jake was relaying his thoughts on the upcoming setlist, Danny was contributing with his usual flair, and Josh remained a calm presence—oblivious to the inner conversation layered within the hazy air of the bar.

But Sam was no longer hearing his brothers. His focus had shifted; the raucous laughter around you faded into a dull hum as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, just for you. “Do you think you can keep me grounded?” There was a playful challenge hidden beneath his words, a desire to see just how far he could push without losing your grasp.

You smiled at him, your thumb brushing lightly across his thigh, sending shivers through him, and you could sense the mix of cockiness and intrigue swirling within him. It was exhilarating and risky; a push and pull that defined the unspoken relationship that existed between the two of you. The thrill of asserting control over his cocky facade, mingling with the rush of knowing he needed you in a way no one else did.

As Sam attempted to regain his bravado and rejoin the conversation happening around him, you remained poised, your fingers still grazing against his thigh, maintaining a thread that connected you both—a secret tether in the midst of the evening's revelry. And while the others continued to celebrate the evening, a quiet heat built between you and Sam, stretching the tension just a little longer, each glance and touch laced with unspoken promises of what was yet to come.

You could feel the electric tension humming between you, a current that connected you both amidst the noise and laughter of the bar. Sam's cocky persona was beginning to shift, and you relished the power it gave you in the moment, a thrill that coursed through your veins like the alcohol swirling in your glass. You subtly adjusted your position, leaning in closer to him, your breath barely brushing against his ear as you made your move.

With a slow, deliberate motion, you slid your fingers into the waistband of his pants, just enough to feel the warmth of his skin beneath his jeans. You were careful to keep your movements casual, like a playful caress, but you knew what you were doing. The thrill of teasing him sent a delicious shiver through your own body, and you felt the slightest tremor run through him as your fingers grazed over his boxers.

Sam jolted a little, surprise painted across his features as his concentration abruptly shattered. The laughter from Danny and Jake morphed into a distant backdrop, fading as he focused solely on the intimate connection you had initiated. For a brief heartbeat, you reveled in the way he stiffened at your touch, his eyes widening in surprise, but just as quickly as it sparked, it was tempered with a semblance of his previous bravado.

“Oh—damn it!” he exclaimed, his voice rising a notch as he quickly pretended to shift in his seat, a forced chuckle escaping him. “I just hit my knee on the table. You know, these stupid legs—they’re like a weapon of mass destruction!”

He aimed a playful kick at the table, trying to brush off the involuntary reaction, but you could see the suppressed excitement in his eyes, a flicker of desire mixed with embarrassment. The laughter continued around you, but for Sam, the stakes were different now. You had pulled him from center stage, grounding him into reality with just a few daring gestures, and it thrilled you to see how he responded.

His bravado was still there, just reconfigured amid a swirl of confusion and uncertainty. You could tell he was fighting to reclaim his earlier composure, caught between wanting to stay cocky while also grappling with the thrill of your intimate touch. As you held your position, your fingers barely tugging at the waistband, you took joy in the power you had over him.

“Watch where you’re swinging those long legs, Sammy,” you teased, your voice low enough that only he could hear. You felt a grin tugging at your lips, drawing further out the contrast between his exterior and the hidden desires that lay beneath.

Sam's playful smirk returned, albeit with an edge that hinted at his ongoing need to maintain his persona. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m just fine! You know me—always hitting my targets, even when they’re my own knees!” He laughed off the moment, but there was a flicker in his gaze, an unspoken acknowledgment of the boundary you had both crossed.

The others around the table continued chatting away, absorbed in their own discussions, blissfully unaware of the charged atmosphere simmering between you and the man who was simultaneously the life of the party and a person longing for something deeper in the respite that existed outside of the spotlight. Sam’s hand subtly drifted toward your thigh, seeking some connection, but you remained firm in your teasing, relishing in the way he responded to your every move.

The balance hung in the air: he projected an image of playful dominance, but you both knew who truly was in control. And as the laughter faded into anecdotes and the drinks continued to flow, you were determined to keep him guessing—between his roguish charm and the depths of his submission, you held the key to unlocking the secret behind the man who would one day own the stage.

After a few minutes of playful teasing and lingering touches, you decided it was time to break the spell for just a moment. You leaned back slightly, letting your fingers trace away from Sam’s waistband as you rose from your seat. “I’ll be right back,” you said, shooting him a sly smile before gracefully making your way through the throng of people towards the bathroom.

As you navigated the busy bar, laughter and music swirled around you, but your thoughts were filled with the enticing figure you had just left behind. You could feel the heat of his gaze on you, and it left you with a thrill that combined anticipation and mischief.

You freshened up quickly, splashing cold water on your face and taking a moment to gather your thoughts. Just as you stepped out of the bathroom, you spotted Sam leaning against the wall down the hall, his casual demeanor a stark contrast to the thumping rhythm of the party.

"Hey, I thought you might get lost in there," he teased, raising an eyebrow as you approached.

“I know my way around a bathroom, don’t worry, darling.” You shot back playfully, stepping closer until you were right in front of him. The space between you felt charged, electric with the tension that had been brewing all evening.

“Now, about your behavior back there...” you began, your voice dripping with a mix of authority and affection as you gracefully wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him closer to you. There was a moment of surprise in his expression, followed quickly by a softening that made your heart race.

“Look at you, all cocky and full of yourself,” you murmured, pressing gentle kisses against the warm skin of his neck. The taste of beer mixed with the faint scent of his cologne intoxicated you further, and you could feel him melt into you, a quiet moan escaping his lips in response.

“Just being charismatic,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper, but the teasing lilt in his tone had shifted to something more vulnerable as he leaned into your touch.

You felt a rush of satisfaction at the effect you had on him, and you whispered against his skin, “Oh, really? Charismatic or just a little too full of yourself, princess?”

The term of endearment slipped from your lips effortlessly—playful yet intimate—as your kisses trailed further up his neck, delighting in how he reacted to your touch. Sam's breath hitched slightly, a deeper moan escaping him this time, his body leaning closer, inviting you to draw him in even more.

“Princess?” he echoed, a slight chuckle intermingled with the breathy sound of desire. “That’s a new one…”

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, which were now alight with a mix of mischief and yearning. “It suits you. Sweet and a little spoiled,” you teased, feeling emboldened by the way he was surrendering to you in the dimly lit corridor away from prying eyes.

He chuckled softly, but there was a hint of submission in his gaze. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”

The air between you was thick with anticipation, as you stood there, holding him close and sharing a moment that bypassed the usual bravado. Sam's vulnerability was disarming, and it only fueled your desire to tease him further.

You felt the world around you fade as you held him, the sounds of the bar distant and muffled. In this private moment, it was just the two of you—intimate, charged, and poised on the edge of something deeper. You could feel the shift in Sam as he melted further into your hands, the teasing banter fading away to reveal a side of him that hungered for something deeper. His body instinctively leaned into you, surrendering to the warmth of your embrace, and you could see the façade slip from his features as desire mingled with a vulnerability that was impossible to ignore.

“Please...” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the pulse of the music from the bar. The word hung in the air, laced with an urgent need that made your heart race. You could sense the tension coiling tighter within him, and it thrilled you.

“Please what?” you asked coyly, keeping your hold on him steady as you pressed another kiss to the crook of his neck, your lips brushing against his skin in a way that felt both playful and intoxicating. In response, you felt him shudder, a soft whimper escaping his lips that tugged at something deep within you.

“I—” he stammered, the confidence he usually wielded melting beneath your touch. “I was only playing, I swear,” he murmured, the words laced with a mix of desperation and a hint of embarrassment. “You know that, right?”

The way he spoke, almost pleading now, sent a thrill coursing through you. You reveled in this new dynamic, the tease evolving into something more profound that sent sparks of excitement racing down your spine.

“Playing?” you echoed, enjoying the tension that lay between sincerity and the playful game you both engaged in. “Then why do you sound so needy, hmm?”

He took a shaky breath, and the way his fingers tightened subtly against your back made your heart race. “I just—can’t take it,” he admitted quietly, the words barely a whisper, yet filled with an urgency that made you smile. “Just... please stop teasing me. It’s driving me crazy.”

His admission was laced with a quiet whimper that resonated within you. There was something exhilarating about having this power over him, watching as he unraveled under your touch. You held him closer, trapping his whispered pleas between your bodies as you leaned in, capturing the moment with the intoxicating warmth of his vulnerable side.

“Aw, poor baby,” you cooed softly, further pressing him into submission with each word, feeling the tension create an electric bond between you. “Can’t handle a little teasing? Is that it?”

He hung his head slightly, the playful bravado disappearing as he chose to simply let you lead. “I can handle it, but,” he sighed, “it’s just…”

“Just what?” you pressed gently, fully aware that you could make him squirm if you pushed just a little harder.

“I want you,” he finally confessed, the admission trembling on his lips as he searched your eyes for understanding. “I want you to stop teasing and just…”

You sensed the weight of his words lingering in the air and felt a rush of satisfaction. Whether he could fully embrace his submission or not, he was visibly caught in the dizzying whirlwind of your control, and you savored every moment of it.

With a sly smile playing on your lips, you tilted your head slightly to gaze into his eyes, your heart racing at the sheer connection you felt. “Tell me you want it, and I might just be willing to give you what you’re begging for,” you teased, knowing full well that Sam was teetering on the edge of surrender.

His answer was a soft, desperate moan, fraught with need, as he looked at you with longing and vulnerability, caught in that perfect moment of intimacy where playful teasing merged with something much deeper.

The atmosphere between you and Sam crackled with unspoken tension and anticipation. You could see the struggle in his eyes as he wrestled with his desire and the last remnants of his bravado. He opened his mouth to say something but faltered, words escaping him as he searched for the right ones.

“Uh... I— I mean, I want you to…” His voice was a soft stutter, the sounds tumbling clumsily from his lips, and with each pause, you could see him trying to regain the confident composure he often wore like armor. But here, with you, he was unraveling, and you loved every moment of it.

“Just take your time, princess,” you said softly, a teasing lilt in your voice, encouraging him even as you enjoyed the power you felt in this vulnerable exchange. It was a dance—one of dominance and submission, and he was all yours.

“I want you to… um, I want you to touch me, but,” he hesitated again, biting his lip in that adorable way that sent shivers down your spine. “Not just like, um, like before,” he managed, and you could see him struggling to articulate his thoughts. “I mean, I want you to really—”

“What do you want me to do?” you asked gently, leaning in a bit closer, your lips brushing against his ear, where you could feel the warmth of his body radiating even through his shirt.

“I want you to make me feel good,” he finally whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of urgency and desire, sealing the admission with a quiet whimper.

Your heart raced at his confession, the heat pooling low in your stomach. You understood what he was yearning for—this blend of teasing, control, and now the promise of something more intimate. It sent excitement shooting through you as you felt his vulnerability envelop you, urging you to explore this new territory together.

“Okay, princess,” you murmured, brushing your fingers against his waist, feeling the way his breath caught in his throat at the slightest touch. Taking the lead, you let your hand find its way down, moving slowly, intentionally, as it slipped under the waistband of his pants. The heat of his skin was intoxicating, and you could feel his muscles tense at your touch.

“Just breathe for me,” you instructed softly, easing your hand further, fingers brushing against him where he was already growing hard. The moment you felt him, he gasped—a sharp intake of breath that sent a thrill coursing through you.

“Oh my god…” he breathed, his words stammering out in a breathless rush as you wrapped your fingers around him, slowly stroking, teasingly gentle at first. “I didn’t— I wasn’t ready for… for that.” His voice was a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming need, a fragrant cocktail of desire that made you want to push him even further.

“Just relax,” you whispered, your voice low and sultry. “Let me take care of you.” You let your movements be deliberate, your fingers gliding along his length in slow, tantalizing strokes. You could feel him respond almost immediately, his body instinctively leaning into your touch as soft moans slipped from his lips, each one igniting something wild within you.

“Y-you’re so—” he stuttered, lost in the sensation as you maintained that exquisite pace. “I can’t believe we’re… here.” His words were punctuated by quiet whimpers, a mix of pleasure and soft pleading that encouraged you to keep going.

“Just focus on how good it feels,” you encouraged, feeling him melt further into your touch. You loved the way he surrendered, the way his body reacted to you so openly, as if you had awakened something inside him that he was desperate to explore.

His gaze was hazy, pupils dilated as they locked onto yours, and you could see the way he struggled to suppress his whines, lips trembling slightly as if trying to hold back a tide of need. “I—I don’t want to hold back anymore,” he admitted, the words spilling from him in a rush as if the dam had finally broken.

“I know, Sam. Just let go for me,” you replied, your fingers picking up the pace ever so slightly, deliberately applying more pressure as you watched his reactions closely. Each flick of your wrist, each stroke of your hand coaxed soft cries from him, pushing him deeper into the whirlpool of desire.

“God, I— I can’t believe you’re doing this,” he stuttered, eyes fluttering shut as he savored the feel of you—so close, so intimate. “It feels so good… you.. oh-”

“Shh, just enjoy it,” you whispered, your voice wrapping around him like velvet as you continued your steady rhythm, feeling the familiar heat and weight of his need pulsing between you. Sam was losing himself in your hands, and with each passing moment, the air crackled with an energy that felt electric, binding you closer in this moment of shared longing.

Though he was still trying to hold onto some semblance of control, you could see it slipping away. The way his hips instinctively bucked into your strokes, the soft, tortured whimpers spilling from his lips—each response was a command to keep going, to take him further into this intoxicating abyss of pleasure together.

And you were more than willing to oblige.

The electric connection between you and Sam thrummed in the air, a palpable tension that surged with every heartbeat. You could see the need building in his eyes as he wrestled with his desire, and the moment felt ripe for the taking.

“Come with me,” you said softly, your voice low and inviting. Without waiting for a response, you took his hand, guiding him through the hall, until you reached the dimly lit bathroom. The sound of muffled music faded as you stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind you with a sense of finality.

The small space felt intimate, charged with a sense of secrecy that only heightened the urgency of the moment. You turned to him, locking eyes, and in one fluid motion, backed him up against the cool, tiled wall. Sam gasped at the sudden shift, his breath hitching as the reality of where you were sank in.

“Now, let’s see how needy you are,” you murmured, a teasing smile playing on your lips as you pressed your body against his. Instinctively, he tilted his head back against the wall, eyes fluttering closed as surrender washed over him. You could feel his warmth radiating through your clothes, his body responding to your proximity and the thrill of the moment.

With a gentle yet firm grip, you resumed stroking him, your hand moving with a deliberate slowness that made him squirm. “Oh god, please…” he whimpered, the desperation in his voice sending a rush of exhilaration through you. You loved that he was so utterly receptive, his body betraying him as he bucked his hips into your hand, seeking more of the pleasure you were giving him.

“You like this, don’t you?” you teased, leaning in closer. Your lips found their way to the sensitive skin of his neck, planting soft kisses that made him tremble. “You’re so responsive, Sammy… I can feel how much you want it.”

“Y-yes,” he stuttered, his voice a breathy whisper, barely holding onto the thread of restraint as he melted further into you with each kiss. You could feel the tension coiling in him, the sweet anticipation of release that threatened to spill over. His breath was ragged, each exhale mingled with soft whimpers as he continued to grind against your hand, pleading for more.

“Tell me what you want,” you whispered against his skin, teasingly breathy, feeling his pulse race beneath your lips. He moaned softly, tilting his head to give you better access, the action allowing you to kiss more fervently along his collarbone and up to his jawline.

“Please don’t stop,” he managed to say, voice trembling with intensity. “I need this… I need you.”

The way he pleaded with you, unguarded and vulnerable, made your heart race. Encouraged by his eagerness, you sped up your movements, letting your fingers slide along him in a way that was both teasing and demanding. He gasped, pushing his hips forward even more, your shared urgency resonating in the small bathroom.

“Just let it all go,” you murmured in encouragement, planting another kiss along his neck, feeling the way his body started to tense and release under your touch. The vulnerability in his eyes mixed with need made your own pulse quicken, and you were perfectly aware of the clandestine thrill of what you were doing.

As his body arched against you, you felt the intoxicating rush of power mixed with a heady desire. You kept kissing him, each touch driving him closer to the edge while you held onto him firmly, urging him to succumb completely. Sam was lost in the moment, fully engulfed in the pleasure you were igniting within him, and you reveled in the connection you shared.

In this secluded refuge, nothing else mattered but the two of you, the world outside falling away as you focused solely on his need. Each kiss, each stroke of your hand brought you both closer to that precipice, and the thrill of it all was intoxicating.

“Please,” he whimpered softly, a delightful tremor echoing through his words. “Don’t stop. I can’t hold back much longer…”

And with that, you pushed him further into that abyss, teasing, taunting, and fully embracing the passionate moment that consumed you both in its feverish grasp. As the kiss trailed off and your touch intensified, you could feel the tension building in Sam, his need palpable and intoxicating. Suddenly, with a soft, almost fragile movement, he leaned his head against your shoulder, surrendering to the moment entirely. The weight of him felt reassuring, and you reveled in the closeness, as though the two of you had built a world of your own inside the stall.

“Oh, Sam,” you murmured, brushing your fingers through his hair as you continued to stroke him with a steady rhythm. It felt like everything was crescendoing around you both; the muffled sounds of the bar and distant laughter faded, leaving just the two of you caught in a dizzying haze of heat and desire.

Sam’s body reacted to you with an urgency that made your heart race. The way he nestled into you, his breath hitching against your skin, sent waves of warmth flooding through your body. “You feel so good,” he whispered, voice shaky and breathless, completely lost in the moment.

“I could say the same about you,” you replied teasingly, feeling him press his body against yours, urging you to continue. With each stroke of your hand, his soft whimpers grew louder, filling the small space as evidence of his pleasure.

“Please…” he whimpered, eyes fluttering shut in ecstasy, his mind clearly clouded with sensation. The tension in his body coiled tighter as if he were a spring ready to snap. You could tell he was close, and a part of you thrived on that knowledge, reveling in the fact that you were the one bringing him this pleasure.

“Just let go, Sam,” you encouraged softly, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear, the intimacy of it sending shivers down his spine. “You’re so close. Just— let it happen.”

His inhale was sharp, a desperate gasp as his body began to tremble involuntarily. With one final, deliberate stroke, he finally came undone in your hands, a deep, breathless moan escaping his lips as he released. The sound was utterly intoxicating; it resonated within you, serving as a powerful reminder of the connection you two shared.

“Ahhh… God,” he gasped, head falling back against the wall, eyes squeezed shut in a mix of bliss and disbelief. You felt him shudder against you, his breath coming in quick, uneven gasps as he tried to catch his breath, body still twitching from the aftershocks of his release.

“That’s it, baby,” you cooed softly, your own excitement barely restrained as you continued to hold him, your fingers gently tracing comforting patterns along his skin. “You did so well for me.”

For a moment, the two of you simply lingered in that post-orgasmic haze, the world outside the bathroom stall forgotten. But as the intensity of the moment began to fade, a serious thought crept into your mind, and you gently pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, wanting to ensure the lesson was conveyed.

“Sam,” you began, your tone soft but firm. “You need to remember something. You only ever get what you want when you behave.” His brow furrowed slightly, and you could see a hint of vulnerability mixed with confusion as he processed your words.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice still breathless, an innocent lilt that made your heart ache.

“I mean,” you said, leaning closer, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “you can’t act like you did with the rest of the band in front of me again. You know how I feel about that.” There was a weight in your words, a warning laced with a sense of authority that he needed to grasp.

He looked down, guilt flickering across his features, and you could see the wheels turning in his head. “I… I didn’t mean to. It just happened,” he said hesitantly.

“I know it did,” you replied gently, brushing your thumb along his cheek to bring his gaze back to yours. “But if it happens again, I won’t be as kind next time. I might just have to teach you a different lesson, you understand?”

There was a moment of tension, electric and charged, as you watched his expression shift. Understanding bloomed in his eyes, a realization of the boundaries you were emphasizing. He nodded slowly, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, though you could tell he was still processing your words.

“Okay… I get it,” he finally replied, his voice quieter now, softer. “I promise to do better.”

“Good boy,” you replied, satisfaction blooming within you as he leaned back against you, resting his head on your shoulder once more. The combined rush of pleasure and the promise of a new understanding settled between you like a comfortable blanket, warm and enveloping.

“For now, just hold onto that promise,” you said, letting your fingers play lightly in his hair. “And maybe next time, I’ll show you just how kind I can really be.”

With a lingering look shared between you, the two of you reveled in the weight of the moment, a mix of passion and newfound respect lying beautifully beneath the surface, ready to be explored anew.