#but i crossed my ankle over one knee and this made both of them hurt and a little doggy whine slipped out. appalling.

[softwarmfur]

i need a bitch who will get hard over my little whimpers and whines of pain that i make when my joints are acting up but will overcome her need to break me further and rub me till im better :3

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-down AU Part 15

Part 1 Part 14

“Demogorgon?” Eddie demands. “That thing does not look like a Demogorgon!”

He can feel himself unraveling. He and Steve are barely unraveling and now they’re supposed to keep this kid alive somehow? They’d planned to fuck off and die of starvation, but now there’s a fucking kid in the mix, they’re going to have to fight that thing again and figure out a way to get out of this mess alive.

“What’s a demo—”

“It’s a D&D monster, Steve.” He’s being too loud, and he realizes it even before Will shrinks back, looking between Eddie, and Steve, and the door, like he can’t figure out which one is more of a threat.

“Oh, that’s cool,” Steve says, like a jackass. Will smiles hesitantly over at him.

“It is not cool, Sir Steven,” he hisses, keeping his voice down this time. “That is not what a Demogorgon looks like, and in cause you’ve forgotten, it tried to eat you! What about that is cool?”

Steve holds his hands up, palms forward like he’s trying to calm a spooked horse. “Alright, man. Ease up,” he says. “Let’s just sit down and like, talk this out.”

As if to demonstrate the act of sitting, he folds himself gracefully to the ground, legs crossed in his usual sitting position. Eddie hates him just a little. But Will sits too, knees to his chest, arms locked around them, so Eddie slides off the couch and joins them.

“Why do you think it’s a Demo-whatever?” Steve asks, rolling his eyes as both Will and Eddie correct him in unison. “Yeah, Demogorgon, whatever.”

“I rolled a three,” Will says. “In the game. I rolled a three, and it got me. And then it got me in real life.”

Steve reaches out, patting the kid’s ankle. “Are you hurt?” Steve asks.

Will holds out his palms. They’re scrapped, a little bloody on the heels, but not too bad. Kid’s faired better than they have, that’s for sure.

“Just these,” Will says. “I fell off my bike.”

Without getting up, Steve stretches out to grasp the handle of his backpack, pulling it toward him. He pulls out their meager first aid supplies, even though the blood looks old and dried. He scoots forward on his butt until his knees knock into Will, and then he holds out his hand.

It takes a few loaded seconds, but Will puts one of his hands into Steve’s. Steve holds it up to his eyes, hemming and hawing over the minor cuts like they’re battle wounds.

Then the best thing happens – Will Byers laughs. Is Steve Harrington good with kids? Eddie is going to lose it.

“I think you’ll live,” Steve says, wiping the dried blood and dirt from his hands with one of the few remaining wet wipes, careful of the scabs. He pats them dry with the hem of his shirt before gently securing bandages across them. “There,” he says, with a private little smile. “Good as new.”

Will smiles up at him, cheeks pinkening in a way Eddie empathizes with. If Steve Harrington tenderly cared for his wounds, he’d disintegrate and blow away on the wind.

“Now what?” Will asks, looking around at his surroundings curiously, as if he only just realized he’d followed two strangers to an unknown location. “Where are we?"

Eddie jumps up, bowing theatrically. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

A small, competitive voice in the back of his head crowed in delight when he made Will laugh this time. Screw you, Steve Harrington. He was going to be this kid’s favorite.

“We should compare intel,” Steve says, like someone who’d watched too many James Bond movies before his brain was fully developed. But they do.

Steve and Eddie take turns describing a kid-friendly version of what they’d been through. The raging party turns into a small get-together, sans drugs and alcohol. The “Demogorgon” attack in the alleyway involves not injuries, and it never broke into Steve’s house at all.

They don’t mention the lack of food, but Eddie begins sifting the water when it becomes clear Will hasn’t had a drink in a while. He doesn’t let the kid see the residue left on the shirt that had once been in the water he’s now greedily gulping down.

Steve’s fidgeting, straightening, and recrossing is legs periodically as they wait for Will to finish drinking and catch his breath.

“And you?” Steve asks, when he finally lowers the bottle, wiping the water that’d dribbled down onto his chin with the sleeve of his flannel.

“I saw it in the woods,” he starts, handing the bottle back to Eddie and pulling his knees back up to his chest. “It made me crash my bike.”

“And it got you?” Steve asks, quiet and gentle.

Will shakes his head. “I made it home, but no one was there, and all the lights were flickering. So, I went to the shed, and I got Lonny’s gun. And—” he swallows, voice sounding thick. “I shot it, but it took me here anyway.”

“How long have you been here?” Eddie asks.

Will shrugs, less like he doesn’t want to say, and more like he doesn’t know. “My Mom’s looking for me though.”

Eddie’s jealous of that level of faith in a parent. He swallows it down, says, “of course she is.”

Will shakes his head, hair flying with the force of it. “No, you don’t get it,” he says, adamant. “I’m not just saying that. I talked to her.”

Eddie’s eyes shift to Steve’s face, sees the same skepticism he feels reflected back, hope it doesn’t show on his face quite as much. Okay,” he says, drawling the word out past its usual thresholds, “how?”

“With the phone in the kitchen. I called and she answered,” Will replies. There are tears running down his face now. “She sounded so worried.”

“…what did she say?” Steve asks. He’s picking at his cuticles again. Eddie wants to reach over and grab his hand. He doesn’t.

“She said she’d find me,” Will says. “But then the Demogorgon came.”

There’s silence for a minute besides Will’s quiet crying. Steve scoots closer to him, nudging their knees together companionably.

He meets Eddie’s gaze, something that looks alarmingly like hope shining in his eyes. “You got a phone in here, Munson?”

Part 16

[lostbookmark]

MDNI 🔞

MAIN MASTERLIST here

WHISPERED VOWS MASTELIST here

Summary: You thought planning your wedding was going to be a magical memory. You didn't realize that it might make you second guess everything.

Pairing: Fiancée Yoongi x Insecure F. Reader

Genre: Romance, Angst, Smut, Hurt-ComfortWarnings: Explicit Sex, Toxic Family Dynamics, Arguments, Sex Toys, Self Doubt, Over Thinking, Yoongi Overworking Himself, Reader Needs To Speak Up.

A/N: I started chapter 8, and my goodness did it get dramatic.

“They both look the same to me,” Yoongi says as he examines the invitations that he is holding in his hands.

He rests his elbows on his knees as he sits on his leather couch. His dark eyes dart between the two wedding invitations in his hands, pondering over which one he likes best. You sit across from him patiently waiting for him to make his decision. You think that he looks cute looking at them with such sharp attention.

“No, no, one is black with white writing and the other is white with black writing,” you tell him as you watch his eyes continue to go back and forth between the 5x7 pieces of cardstock. “And, supposedly, they are in two different fonts.”

“They are literally the same font,” he tells you as he brings them closer to his face to examine the lettering more carefully.

“I said supposedly,” you defend.

“They look the same,” he repeats once again. “I like the black with white writing,” Yoongi finally decided and handed them both back to you. You place the winner in your bag and throw the other on his table to recycle later. “I like the little bow on it, too. It was a nice touch.”

“Great, now what about a plated dinner for the reception or a buffet style? Plated options would be the normal chicken, steak, or fish,” you ask next. “The winery offers charcuterie boards as appetizers, but we are responsible for the catering.”

Yoongi leans back on his couch and cocks his head to the side in thought as he crosses his arms over his chest. He looks quite relaxed in his contemplation as he rests his ankle over his knee. It makes you happy that he is weighing his options carefully. That he is taking this seriously. Jimin and Hobi were actually the ones to give you the idea to narrow some easy choices down and let Yoongi pick from there. You had easily agreed with them hoping that by doing this it would feel like Yoongi was actually helping you. You also knew that he probably felt guilty for not helping as much as he should and that made you feel guilty in return for him feeling guilty. So, in the end you hoped it would ease his worries, your stress and all the damn guilt.

“Buffet, more options that way,” he says with a satisfied nod. “We could have a noodle bar, and maybe we can have your oh so precious rolls catered.”

“That is the best idea ever. Jisoo offered to call around to places and get some prices once we decided,” You tell him as you take out your phone to text her. “We have to get our guest list done sooner than later. The invitations will take about two weeks to get here once I put in the order. I only have like seven people to invite, and two are in the wedding, so the guest list is mainly up to you.”

“Come here, baby,” Yoongi says, patting the couch cushion next to him. “Let's relax for a minute.”

You get up from his chair, place your phone on his table, and make your way to sit next to him. Yoongi slings his arm around you as he reclines back against the cushions, taking you with him. You turn into his body and lay your cheek on his chest, taking in the sound of his thumping heartbeat. Your finger absentmindedly traces the smooth black vinyl letters on his white shirt as you close your eyes in relaxation.

“We need to hire a photographer as well,” you comment.

“Baby, relax,” Yoongi commands you softly.

Moments like this are a few and far between for the two of you. Usually, when you're here, it's to drop off food during your lunch break or to clean up for him quickly before you head home for another night alone in a cold bed. His studio has pretty much become his main place of living. Although you would rather be in your shared apartment, you don't want to take this moment for granted. He's here. You're here. The both of you together and enjoying an actual moment together. It doesn't matter how small of a moment it is. You are going to cherish it.

“Where do you think you would be if we never met again?” He asks quietly as his thumb draws small circles on the back of your shoulder.

“What?” You ask with a light laugh. You look up at him, resting your chin on his chest, but his eyes are closed. “What are you talking about? Where did that question even come from?”

“Let's say, I left earlier that night from the restaurant and didn't see you. What if I just didn't recognize you? What if I wasn't hungry that night and didn't go with Hobi and Jimin? What would you be doing right now?” he asked again. His eyes still remained closed as his thumb still continued with the lazy circles.

“Umm,” you had to think for a minute. “I guess I would probably still be working at that horrible office just barely scraping by. I wouldn't have had a reason to quit. My family situation probably would have never changed. I would probably be drinking wine with the girls as Lisa tells Jisoo and I about her latest boyfriend. Everything would probably be the same as before. Lonely and monotonous.”

“You don't think you would have been dating anyone?” he asked next, his hand running up and down the expanse of your back and side.

“Well, I mean, Kai was putting his best moves on me,” you say jokingly and smirking up at him. “You know he is a pretty big deal, right? Model, actor, and now singer. Damn, I missed my chance.”

Yoongi growled at you and threw himself on top of your body. You fall onto your side, landing on the unoccupied cushions as his fingers dance along your sides, tickling you underneath your shirt. Laughing, you try to push him off you, but he is way too strong for you.

“Apologize and take it back,” he growls into your neck as his fingers still tickle your side. His teeth lightly sink into the smooth skin of your neck. “Take it back, now.”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Yoongi, please,” you laugh out loud as your hands lightly slap him away.

Yoongi finally pulls away and brings you back into your original position. You wrap your arm around his stomach and sling your leg over his. He is so warm, and you just want to soak in it. You want to close your eyes and go to sleep surrounded by that warmth. Surrounded by his scent, which barely lingers on his pillow anymore. You wish you could wrap it all up and take it home with you. Maybe it would make you feel a little less lonely.

“You know that little weasel is around here somewhere,” he informs you as he closes his eyes again, holding you tighter to him. “He's working with Hobi, I think. I kind of skipped the email when I saw his name attached to it.”

“I don't care about him,” you say, snuggling against him more. You slid your hand up his shirt and rested it on his bare chest. You just needed to feel his skin. “I don't know, honestly. I'm sure Lisa would have a string of blind dates lined up for me, and I would make up some sort of excuse to cancel on them. I really don't think that I would be seeing anyone. What about you?”

“What about me?” he asks, finally opening his eyes and looking down at you.

“Okay, let's say you had a girlfriend when we met outside the bar. What would have happened then?” You counter. “I would like to assume that we wouldn't have gone home together that night.”

“That would have never happened,” he said with certainty and a shake of his head. “I didn't date.”

“Like at all?” You raise an eyebrow in question and look at him warily. “Was there no one after my sister?”

“Oh there were women…I…just didn't date them,” he said, smirking. You poke him hard on his side. “Ow, violent.”

“Seriously, I answered your question,” you pout. “Answer my question honestly.”

“Okay, if I had a girlfriend,” he said with a sigh and a tilt of his head. “I wouldn't have cheated, but I wouldn't have stayed with her. I don't think I could have gone through life with you just being a friend. I tried just being your friend before and look what happened there.”

You hear your phone chime. You sigh, you know that it is probably your mom, but hopefully it's Jisoo answering you back. You've been ignoring your mom since your little outburst on the phone the other day. She even got your dad and his girlfriend to text you to figure out what was going on. You explained to them that you were pretty sure she was trying to build her own dream wedding. He told you just to ignore her, and his girlfriend was ready to tell her to shove it where the sun didn't shine.

“Do you want to know something?” you ask quietly, ignoring your phone on the table.

“What?” he asks just as quietly.

“You were only my second,” you admit, and you bite your lip at your admission.

He shifts you a little bit so he can fully look at you. His eyes study your face, resting on his chest with confusion swirling in dark eyes. His eyebrows furrow, and he purses his lips in thought. You don’t know why he is taking so long to answer. His silence is making you nervous. It's making you feel like you should have never said anything. It made you feel like such a loser admitting your inexperience as if he probably couldn't tell the first time you were together.

“What do you mean I'm you second? I'm your second, what?” he asked, still confused.

“You know,” you mumble, your face turning red. “The second guy I ever…” you drift off and cast your eyes away from him.

“Fucked?” he asked with pure surprise on his face. “Really?”

“Yes and don't say it like that,” you say, hiding your face in his chest. “Why do you sound so surprised? I'm awkward, and it was always worse around boys.”

“Baby, you're fucking beautiful,” he tells you.

Your eyes take a peek up at him. His face is serious. He gently moves the hair out of your face that had fallen obstructing his view of you. His eyes are soft as they look at you, and you want to hide away from them.

“You're biased,” you whisper, and he shakes his head no. “Yes, you are.”

A comfortable silence falls between the two of you again. You look up at him again, and he seems lost in thought. His eyebrows are furrowed as if he is thinking hard.

“Was it that kid?” he asked, suddenly sitting up and his eyes widened in realization.

“Who?” you asked in confusion, sitting up right next to him.

“That Woo….whatever his name was,” he asked. “That little shit who you got drunk with at that dance.”

“Wooseok?” You asked, throwing your head back laughing.

“Don't say his name,’ he said slowly with a deadly glare, making you roll your eyes. “I’ll hunt him down. I swear I will.”

“I told you it didn't go any further than the hickey. I didn't lose my virginity behind an equipment shed with Lisa right next to me,” you assured him, still laughing. “You saw them. He was not in any condition to do anything that night.”

���I always kind of thought you lied to me about that,” he admitted quietly. “I don't want to know who it was. I'm just happy it wasn't him.” He gets quiet and stares at you for a minute before speaking again. “Who was it?”

You laugh and push him back down with your hand to his chest, resuming your previous position. “Do you really want to know?” you asked, and he shook his head no.

“Good because I honestly don't remember his name.” You do honestly try to recall his name…Dave…Devin? You're not even sure it began with a D.

“You know,” he said, breaking you out of your thoughts. “I think that we would have always found each other again.”

“You think?” you ask.

“Jimin and Lisa would have met anyway no matter our timing that night. That means I would have met her as Jimin's girlfriend eventually. Which, in turn, means I would have inquired about you and probably would have asked her for your number. We would have always met. It just would have been a little later.” He explains.

“So, we are kind of destined to be together, huh?” You ask with a small smile on your face.

“Absolutely,” Yoongi kisses the top of your head. His thumb runs back and forth against the skin of your side. “And I wouldn't have it any other way.”

The insistent knocking on your door has you groaning as you get off the couch. Making your way to the door, you open it to see your two best friends carrying a deep red trunk, and it looked like they were struggling with it. Lisa pretty much knocks you out of the way as they enter your apartment, and you have to catch yourself on the wall so you don't fall over. They place the heavy looking trunk down in the middle of the living room and stare at you as they try and catch their breaths.

“Is Yoongi home?” Lisa asked, flinging a piece of her hair out of her face.

“No, why? What is that?” You asked, looking at Jisoo, hoping she will have the answers.

“No idea,” she answers with a shrug. “She wouldn't tell me.”

“Listen, because you and Yoongi are absolutely boring and don't want a bachelor/bachelorette party, I graciously still got you a gift,” Lisa explains and gestures to the decent sized red trunk.

“I'm scared,” you whisper, eyeing the trunk.

“So am I,” Jisoo says, sharing your sentiment.

Lisa smirks and motions for you and Jisoo to help pick the trunk back up. The three of you make your way to the bedroom and together, fling the red trunk on the bed with what little muscles you all had. Thankfully, the physical trunk itself felt heavier than whatever was inside of it.

“Sorry, I didn't think it was this heavy when I ordered it. I should have read the description,” Lisa apologized. “Okay, sweets, open it.”

Your hands undo the two black latches on the front and slowly open the lid. You hear Jisoo gasp and slap something. You are pretty sure that something was Lisa's arm, but you were too much of a shock to really care.

“You got her…toys,” Jisoo hissed. “That is soooo inappropriate. Some things should just stay private.”

“It's just sex toys, and it's for the both of them,” Lisa claps her hands together happily like she did you a favor. “I don't know why you seem so shocked, Jisoo. I've seen what's in your closet. You and Seungkwan get freaky. Good for you! I didn't know that you had it in you.”

Jisoo's eyes widen, and she turns the deepest shade of red that you have ever seen. Without a word, you watch as she practically runs out of your bedroom and down the hall. The slamming of your front door tells you she left. You wonder what the hell she has in her closet, but honestly, you don't want to think of Seungkwan that way.

“Umm, I don't know….thanks….I guess,” you say, turning back to Lisa and her...present.

“Oh come on,” Lisa says, putting her hands on her hips. “You and Yoongi are already like an old married couple. I'm just trying to help you keep the spice alive in the bedroom. He is the strong, silent type, and by my personal experience….they are the best, but they sometimes need a little push.”

“We don't have any issues with that,” you mumble and shuffle your socked feet against the carpet. You think you might just be as red as Jisoo was. “Oh really, when was the last time he was actually home? I'm not talking about a quickie,” Lisa asks you seriously. “When was the last time he actually took his time with you? Jimin said that Yoongi has been sleeping at the studio every night.”

“I don't know,” you admit and look at the…things inside the chest.

“Well, then some of these will definitely help you when you miss him, and some will be fun to use with him,” Lisa said. “Look, you have your standard vibrators in different sizes, shapes, and colors, a personal massager,” she says, holding up the objects one at a time. “This….”

“What is that?” You ask, interrupting her. You grab onto a colorful object that is pink and purple and very, very textured. “Is this a… tentacle?” You whisper in shock.

“Sure is!” she exclaims. “It looks like fun and has a lot of five-star reviews. You'll have to let me know how that one goes. I was thinking about getting me and Jimin one but in a different color because that would be weird if we had the same one.”

“It looks scary,” you correct her and drop it back in the trunk.

“Lighten up, sweets,” Lisa said, hugging you from behind. “I'll leave and let you go through everything in private. Also, if you want a sure-fire way to get your man home. Send him a picture with one of these bad boys. He will come running. Oh, by the way, everything is cleaned and charged.”

With a wink, she leaves you the bedroom alone with the goods that she bought you. Even though you are alone now, your face still heats up when you look at them. You reach your hand in and see there are a few…non scary items in there. Blindfolds and other silk fabrics that look very tame and non-threatening . You gulp hard, however, when you find a pair of what you think are black leather handcuffs. Dropping them back in, you shut the lid quickly and avoid the other objects in the box. One day, maybe you'll find the courage to go through them. Maybe…a big, maybe. You will probably need a couple of drinks first.

You sit down on the bed while latching the red box shut. You are not quite sure how you are supposed to react to Lisa's gift. You've never owned anything like that, and at 23, you shouldn't be getting embarrassed about the thought of using them. Since Yoongi came along, your whole world was thrown upside down when it came to the topic of sex. You finally discovered how good being intimate with someone can make you feel. Not just physically but how it made your heart feel so warm. You almost worry if he will be mad and offended when he sees what was gifted to you. Lisa and obviously Jisoo seem to think that it's perfectly normal to have these kinds of things. You still wonder what's in Jisoo's closet.

Sighing, you stand up and drag the heavy trunk off your bed. It lands on your floor with such a heavy thud that you hope your downstairs neighbor isn't home to complain about it. Pulling with both hands, you drag it over to the closet and push it off to the side and into the corner of the wall. Grabbing one of your many extra blankets that you have stashed away, you throw it on top along with a few of Yoongi's hoodies that were on the floor. You hide it away the best you can , you have no plans to tell Yoongi about it. Absolutely not. Plus, he is never home to find it anyway.

Your phone chimes from the living room. Stepping out of the closet, you walk out of the bedroom. You head to the side table by the couch in the living room where you left your phone laying plugged in and charging. Swiping your phone open. You freeze as you look at the message.

One word.

Two letters.

Hi

Your sister.

Tagged Readers:

@mggv97, @granataepfelchen, @kam9404, @svnbangtansworld, @futuristicenemychaos,

[heresthestorymorningglory]

Put Your Finger On It

Summary: Fingering is a pianist term...right?

A/N: I finally watched La La Land and well, Seb is loud...very loud.

As per usual, it's NSFW 18+ @ken-dom I blame you with the utmost love for this one, however you're not 100% to blame, late night chats with @webbo0 in the Goosecord also sparked the idea for this one. Figured our favourite man's birthday is as good a day as any to drop a double feature.

Enjoy my loves <3

You leaned over the small table, gently blowing out the last of the candles in the centre. Seb sat at the piano on the stage lost in his own world bathed in a blue light. You set your tray and bar rag on the bartop watching him intently.

He lost himself so easily in music it almost made you jealous; you had never been so passionate about anything. 

You had sent the last of the waitresses home for the night; it was just the two of you left in the club.

You watched his elegant fingers slide effortlessly over the keys, tie loosely hanging on his neck, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. You ran your tongue between your lips, teeth gently sinking into your bottom lip as you stood leaning against the bar, transfixed God he was something else. 

This caught his attention, pulling him out of his thoughts. He looked up from the keys with a raised eyebrow. “What are you doing?” 

You climbed the tiny steps to the stage; Seb’s back to you, completely oblivious to your presence.

Your heels clicked across the hard floor as you stepped up on the bench, perching yourself on the corner of the piano top, legs crossed at the ankles, feet resting on the piano bench. 

“I was listening to you play” you sighed, stretching back over the glossy top “Oh wait, would you like this better?” 

You scooted back on the smooth top, swinging your legs around behind you as you laid flat on your stomach, feet kicked in the air as you leaned forward with your elbows up, your chin in your hands. He just rolled his eyes. “Is there no one left for you to annoy?” 

You hummed pretending to consider his question before scrunching your nose with a shake of your head “No” 

You grunted sitting back up, swinging your legs back over in front of the keys directly in front of where Seb sat. “I don’t know how Lucy does that, it isn’t comfortable” 

“Lucy also laid on the floor” Seb sighed obviously irritated with your antics “Not on top of the piano” 

You laughed lightly with a small squeak “You did not watch Charlie Brown” 

“Everyone watched Charlie Brown” he muttered not paying you any attention “Now, get off my piano” 

Again, you pretended to consider his request before you shook your head “Nah” Instead crossing your ankles, resting your still heel clad feet in his lap. 

He picked up both your legs, his hands warm on your bare skin, moving them to the side out of his immediate way. 

You sighed, lifting one leg, bracing it on his knee as you lifted the other to unbuckle your shoe before dropping it to the stage floor with a loud clatter. Intentionally sliding your now bare foot up his thigh as he sat on the small bench, you did the same with the other shoe, dropping it next to the first. 

“Heels hurt” you said simply, watching him press his lips together in irritation as your now bare feet rested on his thighs, your position still impeding his ability to actually play. “It’s getting late”

He didn’t answer, but you watched as his eyes traveled up your bare legs, the hem of your blue cocktail dress coming to rest just above your knees. 

You slid your foot slowly along his thigh, gently biting your lip watching him, his head dropped, a chunk of his blonde hair falling across his forehead. You jumped a little when his large hand closed over your foot, stopping it from moving. 

Finally, he looked up, making eye contact, but still not speaking, his long slender fingers wrapped loosely around your ankle. 

Your eyes stayed locked on his as you bit your lip gently, his fingers flexing against your achilles tendon before his hand started to slide slowly up your leg, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Your heart fluttered in your chest, beating a little harder under his blue eyed scrutiny, but you kept your composure; even after his other hand slid over your knee mirroring its partner on the other side, his fingers dangerously close to creeping up under the hem of your dress. You sat silent, in a battle of wills. Your bare feet resting on his thighs, his impossibly warm hands resting on your bare knees. The room was so silent you could have heard a pin drop. 

You purposely dug your heel a little harder into the top of his thigh, pushing you foot closer to his mid section, in turn forcing his hand to push further up your thigh and off your knee, fingertips disappearing under the fabric of your dress. This was torture. 

As if he’d read your mind or the thought was written clear as day on your face, Seb slid his hand up your thigh; dress bunching at your hip as his fingers teased the sensitive skin finally causing you to break eye contact, closing your eyes as you tipped your head back taking in a deep breath, fingers curling around the edge of the piano top. 

Seb’s other hand sliding tantalizingly slowly up your other thigh, your dress now sat evenly bunched across your middle. 

You looked back at him, both hands sliding up either side of your hips, fingers curling around the elastic of the waist of your panties before he stopped. 

Your core throbbed with anticipation. His movements were so fluid, every touch seemed intentional, like he had planned for this all along even though it had been you who had invaded his personal space first. 

You shifted your feet from his thighs to the more stable bench, not missing the hard on now concealed under his suit pants, giving yourself a little more stability to lift your hips in a silent invitation for him to continue.

He tugged the lacy fabric off your hips before you settled back on the piano top, lifting your feet as he slid them over your ankles before stuffing them into his pants pocket. 

His hands take a firm grip of your hips, pulling you to the very edge of the piano before pushing your knees apart, putting you on full view from his vantage point. 

He hummed with approval and you felt your stomach clench, every inch of your body suddenly aching with desire, aching to be touched. 

“Seb…” you whispered  

“Shhh” he shushed softly, putting a finger to his lips as he looked up at you “Let me work”

If you could find your voice, you would have laughed in disbelief; instead, your mouth just hung open silently before you closed it again. 

“Holy fuck” you breathed, a hand pushing your hair back off your face as Seb stood from the bench, fingers still moving. 

Seb’s fingers ghosted up the inside of your thigh playing some melody only he could hear causing you to let out a shaky breath as they crept closer to your core.

His featherlight touch made you gasp, arching back; making you moan louder as he immediately plunged two fingers deep inside you.

You thrust your hips forward shamelessly, forcing him deeper, his fingers curling in just the right way, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut and lay back across the glassy top you were sitting on. 

He had positioned himself between your legs, reaching to bend one knee, your heel coming to rest on the slick keys, the mangled noise mixing with your moans. 

The hand not between your thighs pinning your hip to the piano as you tried desperately to roll into his touch. 

“Seb, please” you begged, swallowing hard. 

He leaned over you, tie still hanging loosely from around his neck as he shook his head. “No”

You frowned slightly, looking up at him “What?” you breathed hard 

“I said, no” 

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying hard to make sense of his words in your blissed out haze. “What do you mean n-” 

You were cut off by your own strangled cry as he thrust his fingers harder, hooking them hard against your g spot. Then it dawned on you what he had meant. 

“N-no, don’t” you pleaded, thighs squeezing hard around the hand between your legs. Still his hand moved with ease. 

“You’ll cum when I tell you to,” he thrust his fingers hard, making you cry out, “And not before” 

You squeezed your eyes shut, swallowing hard as you leaned back 

The hand on your hip moving to your jaw as he leaned over the piano “Look at me” 

You gasped, his unrelenting fingers still thrusting as he spoke, the hand on your jaw squeezing tighter, you conceded, opening your eyes. 

His breath was warm on your already overheated skin as he spoke “When I’m up here, I’m working; is that clear?” 

You nodded as much as his grip would allow, as a violent twitch shook your body. His grip became a little firmer when you didn’t answer. “Yes,” you managed a whisper, but that hadn’t been to Seb’s satisfaction. 

“I’m sorry I can’t hear you; is that clear?” he repeated

“Yes!” you cried out; fighting to keep your orgasm at bay 

“Yes what?!” his volume matching yours, his voice booming around the empty stage. 

“Seb, please” you almost wailed, fingers now gripping the edge of the piano painfully. 

“I can go all night,” he threatened “Although I doubt even you have that kind of restraint” 

“No, no, no, p-please” the foot you had resting on the keys, slipping from its place, kicking the empty bench hard, knocking it askew on the stage.. 

No longer caring how desperate you sounded he had taken the upper hand, assuming you had ever had it at all. 

“Yes, what?” he repeated, his voice had dropped to a menacing whisper; his fingers sliding from inside you with a lewd squish.

Your breath caught in your throat as your body relaxed slightly and he let go of your jaw “Yes, sir” you whispered, swallowing hard. Heart pounding in your chest as you tried to even your breathing.

Fingers curled around your wrist as Seb righted the bench in front of the piano, pulling you up into a sitting position; your core throbbing painfully, begging you to find release. 

You watched as Seb unbuttoned his fly, just enough to free his throbbing cock before he sat on the bench. 

He pulled you into his lap, you immediately collapsed against him, moaning into his neck as he buried himself inside you with a grunt as your warm heat enveloped his length. 

His hands on your hips, fingers digging into your flesh. Your entire form shook with anticipation, ankles hooked around Seb’s back, clinging to him, desperate for release. 

“S-Seb please” you whispered, shuddering against him 

The slow roll of his hips was agonizing; you had resorted to whimpering, on the verge of crying you were almost certain. 

“Not yet, Darling” he whispered, lips brushing the shell of your ear, his hands sliding up your back, opening the zipper of your dress before pulling it over your head, dropping it on your shoes. 

He stood, leaning you against the piano, you flinched, the surface cold on your bare back fingers instantly curling against his back as a powerful thrust forced you backward. 

“Not yet” he whispered, answering your silent plea as the edge of the piano bit into your bare skin; Seb braced against it, giving himself leverage. 

His thrusts were already erratic, watching you fall to pieces in his skilled hands, unable to do much else had been enough to almost drive him mad.

Less than half a dozen hard, determined thrusts, each one making you cry out louder than the last, His weight pinning you exactly where he wanted. “Now”

“Christ” he breathed, bending slightly to kiss you gently before leaning his forehead against yours. “That’s one hell of a birthday present” 

You never knew a single word could hold so much power; voice cracking with relief as you wrapped your arms around him tightly, legs dropping from around his waist, thankful for his weight pinning you in place as your orgasm finally reached its peak. A loud grunt against your shoulder as he slipped from inside you, his release coating your entire front.

He collapsed catching himself on the edge of the piano with both hands. 

You smiled, draping your arms around his neck kissing him again “You’re welcome”

[watchyourbuck]

hey for the prompts list could you do the one below? I don't have any specific idea though

“Is this… turning you on?” (no.12)

Buck was angry. He was angry and he was done hiding it. Eddie had been behaving like an asshole ever since he decided to quit the 118.

His motives were legitimate, he’d give him that, but not the way he was acting. Hanging up on his calls? Changing the lock so Buck couldn’t get in?

Oh, no, mister, they weren’t gonna play that game.

So he showed up at his door. Unannounced and carrying around ten pounds of unsaid insults. If Eddie wanted him out of his life, he’d give him a reason to.

“What are you doing here, Buck?”

The question ignited something in him. After everything they had been through, he didn’t deserve this kind of ending. He didn’t deserve this residual hammering because Eddie didn’t know where else to place it.

“I came here to give you one more chance to not be a fucking coward.”

“Save it.”

If he didn’t know him so well, he’d say he was uninterested. But no, Eddie was annoyed, and it made Buck all the more angrier.

Before he could think it through, his hand was stopping the door from slamming in his face. He took a few steps, allowing himself in despite Eddie’s look of utter disbelief.

“Don’t shut the door on me. You owe me.”

“I don’t owe you shit,” he said, his tone harsh and unwavering, although he did step back. “It’s not my problem if you can’t move on.”

“Move on?” he muttered, towering over the man. “Is that what you think this is?”

Eddie looked at a loss of words. He simply stared, fury and unresolved trauma glimmering in his eyes.

“You’re cutting me out of your life,” continued Buck, “you think that’s a polite thing to do after I’ve cared for you the way I have?”

“I don’t give a shit about politeness, Buck,” Eddie barked, turning red, his finger now pointed at him. “You tried to stop me from leaving after I told you why I was doing it.”

It was the same scene from years ago, at the grocery store. How did this become his fault yet again?

Buck scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “So?”

“So, you looked over Chris’ best interest.”

The frown on his face was swamped with evident confusion, and it must’ve thrown Eddie off his game. He straightened up, looking for courage to explain.

“You claim to care so much about him, yet-”

Buck put his arms down, his face contorted in either threat or pain. “Don’t. Don’t tell me what I think you’re gonna tell-”

“Yet you don’t seem to live up to your words.”

It happened in a flash. It really, really did. Buck’s hand flew up, with the sole intent of slapping Eddie across the face, but the man had training. He grabbed him by the wrist and twisted it, making his knees bent.

Firefighting had taught him a thing or two, so Buck rapidly regained his poise, kicking Eddie’s ankle and making him shorter. He didn’t wanna hurt him, but he didn’t know how to stop. “Don’t fight me,” he hissed, the words trapped between his teeth.

“You started it, asshole.”

That was all Buck heard before he was being thrown to the ground. He grabbed Eddie’s shirt in a hurry, pulling him down with him. He fell on his elbows, wincing in pain, and Buck took the chance to turn him over and straddle him from behind.

He took his hands and placed them over his lower back, pinning him in place. “You’re fighting the wrong person.”

Eddie struggled beneath him, wiggling his shoulders and legs, but Buck was bigger, and stronger. “Let me go,” he ordered.

“No,” he said, taking both his hands with one of his, and putting the other on Eddie’s head, pushing it down flat against the floor. “Not until we solve this.”

Then Eddie moaned.

Buck blinked, his grip loosening. What?

“Let. Me. Go,” he repeated, this time his voice strained. It sounded like he had swallowed against his body’s will. “Now.”

Buck frowned, pushing Eddie’s head down again. It prompted another sound, but it wasn’t quite so. “Is this… turning you on?”

The mere suggestion made Eddie throw his hips back. He closed his eyes, caught red-handed, like a thief. “Buck…,” he said, way softer than before. It was a plea. That he could recognize.

Buck licked over his lips, not completely sure how to continue. Never in a thousand years would he have guessed he could have this effect on him.

Unsure, he ground his hips down. Eddie’s breath hitched, and he slammed his own head against the floor. Buck’s cock twitched. “Is this what you wanted?”

The question went unanswered, and he repeated the motion. Easily enough, his bulge bumped against Eddie’s ass. A low groan. “Buck, I-.”

“All along,” he said, now grinding harder, “all you wanted was to be fucked?”

“Buck.”

Buck leaned down, pressing on Eddie’s hands now with his body. He settled against his back, nuzzling his nose on his hair.

“All you had to do was ask.”

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Please take this as my Seven Sentence Sunday!

tagged by @disasterbuckdiaz @jamespearce9-1-1 @daffi-990 @wikiangela @fortheloveofbuddie @callmenewbie @lover-of-mine @honestlyeddie @hippolotamus & @evanbegins thank you all so much!💗 I’ll get to your works tonight

tagging in return @wildlife4life @housewifebuck @malewifediaz @buckleyobsessed @mattsire @your-catfish-friend @loserdiaz @thewolvesof1998 @911-on-abc @giddyupbuck @cowboydiazes @steadfastsaturnsrings @eddiebabygirldiaz @butraura @theotherbuckley & @jeeyuns ✨

[giggly-squiggily]

How about switches TodoBaku? Maybe Todo wants Bakugo to say he loves him but he won't go down without a fight!

Ooo, yes! I adore these two so much! I've gotcha covered, anon!

Cloud 9 (Taglist)

CW: Swearing

@myreygn, @thatbigbisexual29 @duckymcdoorknob @baby-tickles2022 @cupcake-spice13 @backy-san @nutsgunraylvt

“Hey,” Todoroki reached out, gaining Bakugou’s attention. “I love you.”

Immediately, the blonde’s face flushed a vivid shade of red. Eyes wide, he sputtered before twisting around, ducking into himself with his arms folded tightly over his chest.

“F-Fuck, IcyHot! Don’t just say shit like that without warning!” He growled, ears red as berries.

It was so endearing, watching Bakugou get flustered over the smallest gestures of affection. Originally, Todoroki was rather hurt by the response, but once he realized it was out of pure fluster, that confused hurt turned to pure devious enjoyment.

Leaning in, he prodded the blushing boy’s shoulder. “Hey, say it back.”

“Fuck off!”

“Say you love me, Katsuki.” He smiled a little smile, eyes dancing. “You said it before, remember?”

“Go away! I’m not saying shit!” Bakugou shrunk more, his entire face pink. The memory of the accidental slip up hung between them- Todoroki getting so mad at the Kimchi jar he threw it out a window, watching it explode open. The whole thing was so stupid it made Bakugou laugh hysterically, doubled over with tears of mirth in his eyes.

“Oohoho my god! I fucking love you, Shoto!”

Laughter got choked off, shock set in along with a fairly bright blush, and Todoroki had been craving those words ever since.

The problem was just getting Bakugou to say it!

“Should I throw another jar of Kimchi onto the pavement?” Todoroki asked, watching the way Bakuogu’s lips twitched. “I don’t think Mr. Aizawa would be happy if I did.”

“Don’t waste food, idiot.” Bakugou huffed, turning his head away when Todoroki went to peek. Opportunity was before him.

“Then say you love me.” Todoroki poked his ribs, grinning when Bakugou jumped, sucking in a breath. “I’ll throw a hundred jars of Kimchi out the window if that’s what it takes.”

“Gah- N-No! Stop that! Don’t fucking to-ouch me!” Bakugou squirmed at each poke, his lips wobbling into a smile as he tried blocking out the other’s hand with his arm. His face was still turned away though, making his aim off. Todoroki added a finger.

“Tell me you love me first.” Poke, poke poke.

“Fuuuhuhck you!”

“I love you. I think you’re great.”

“Shoohohoto!”

“I want to spend my days with you. I want to breathe the air you breathe.”

“That wahahahs stuuhuhhupid!” Bakugou let out a cross up of a genuine laugh and a tickle one, his hand slapping over his ribs protectively.

“Was it? I got it from one of those romance manga you read.” Todoroki teased, moving down to Bakugou’s hip, throwing all caution to the wind as he gave it a friendly squeeze. “I swear I remember you swooning over it at the time.”

“Shiihihihihihit!” Bakugou swore as he fell back into Todoroki’s chest, laughing helplessly as he tried prying his hand off his hip. Now that he had captured his target, Todoroki brought his other hand into the mix, drilling his fingers into the middle of his ribs. “Fuhuhuhuhuck ohohohohohoff, Iihihiihiihicy hoohoohoohohot!”

“Tell me that you love me.” Todoroki grinned, thinking of the tiktok Uraraka sent him the other day. “Tell me that I take your breath away.”

“Doohoohohohn’t fuhuhuhuhucking quote tihiiihiihktohoohohoks! Ahehahahahhaa, Ihiihihihcy hhoohoohohohohot!”

“It’s Icy Thot on Thursdays.”

“Shuhuhuhuuhhut uhuhuuhuuhp!”

“Just say you love me.” Todoroki teased, bringing both hands to Bakugou’s hips, making him arch with a squeal. “Then it’d be all over.”

“Nehehehehhehever!” Bakugou declared;  his next move unpredictable. He shot his hands out, grabbing Todoroki’s thigh just above the knee. Then he squeezed.

“Ah!” Todoroki yelped, spasming. Bakugou took his chance.

Diving forward, he grabbed his boyfriend’s ankle, drilling into the socked sole. “Come on then, tell me you love me! Come on, say it!” Bakugou mimicked, laughing when the other shrieked, flailing behind him and kicking him with his free foot. “What’s wrong? Too shy, Hot Pocket?”

“GEHAHHAHAHHAHA! KAHAHAHAHAHAHTSUUHUHUHKI! AAHEHHAHAHHAHA, STHAHAHAHP THAHAHHAHAT!” Todoroki howled in mirth, tears blinding his vision as he tried to wrench his foot out of Bakugou’s tough grip. This was not how he planned it- not at all! Sitting up when he could, he tried grabbing the back of Bakugou’s shirt- his hair, anything to pull him off, but the other was adamant on tickling the snot out of him. “COOHOOHOHME OHOOHOHOHON, HAHAHHAVE MEHEHHERCY!”

“You wish!” Bakugou laughed, grinning over his shoulder.

Fine then- last resort it was.

Making his hand extra cold, he reached out and shoved it up Bakugou back, making the blonde squeal and fly off the bed. Unfortunately for Todoroki, his foot was still in his hold, meaning they both came crashing to the floor. He grabbed onto the sheets for security, but that proved only to be his downfall as they came down with him.

Blinded, breathless, with his pride beaten, Todoroki gasped for air as he heard Bakugou swear, looking for freedom in their trapped state. “If you fucking fart, I’ll kick your ass.” He heard him mumble, the thought was enough to send Todoroki into a fresh fit of laughter. Finally, the sheets were removed, light momentarily blinding him before Bakuogu’s head loomed over, a mild scowl on his face. “Asshole.”

“Pfft- gehahahahahhaha!” Todoroki couldn’t even form words, laughing too hard at the whole scenario. He covered his mouth as a snort escaped, squeezing his eyes shut as more came out. Bakugou’s scowl melted into a grin as he laughed, shoving the other gently.

“Hey, giggle box- you’re not hurt, are you?” He looked over his shoulder at their tangled limbs, nodding in satisfaction when he saw no injury. “Ugh, you’re such a dork, you know that?”

“Wohoohrth it.” Todoroki smiled, finally starting to calm down. Looking up at his boyfriend, he reached up, running a hand against his cheek. “I do love you. Truly.”

Bakugou blushed, but this time he didn’t look away or fuss. Instead, he sighed, leaning into his hand with a small grin. “I love you too, Icy Hot.”

Todoroki’s heart raced, but it was missing something. “Say it again.”

“So needy.” Bakugou shook his head with a snort. “Fine.” Leaning down, he got close enough that they were nose to nose. “I love you, Shoto.” He finished the statement with a kiss on the lips, so gentle it was like a feather. “Happy?”

Todoroki’s face was warm, as was his heart. He leaned up and kissed the other back, grinning at the shocked blush spreading over Bakugou’s face once more. “With you? Always.”

Thanks for reading!

Icy Thot joke credit to @/brownbakugou on tiktok! :D

[imclimbingthestairsoforthanc]

High Tide - Erestor x Reader (Pt. 3)

You hold up your end of the agreement, which turns out to be more pleasant than you had originally anticipated. Your delight in the situation fades, however, when you remind yourself that in the end you cannot make it more than what it was - an agreement.

A/N: I have no idea if elves hold debutante balls, and they're probably not really worried about finding spouses before they're old cause they don't ever get old but i needed them to for this fic ok ok hehe

Warning: There are adult themes in this chapter. There is smut, it's not too graphic but if you're a minor please scroll. Proceed with caution

Taglist: @batsyforyou @asianbutnotjapanese

Erestor was by no means a good dancer, but he wanted to be sure that both ends of your deal were held up. Under the instruction of Lindir and Elrohir, who had been labeled the best dancer of all of Elrond’s children if not the best dancer in all of Imladris, Erestor became your practice partner. It was the raven haired scribe who waltzed with you and twirled you around and dipped you over his arm to whatever melody Lindir chose. In fact, it was Erestor who became your “practice partner,” for lack of a better word, in all things courting, not just dancing. Nevermind that a small part of you–the part that was still so young and naive and believed that princesses married charming princes and believed that one day you’d have your first kiss and believed in that peculiar thing called love–wanted for it to be more than practice–wanted it to be real.

But that was something you wouldn’t ever bring to light. 

That was how you found yourself holding on to the banister with your feet crossed and knees bent. It was a rather awkward position–one that you had never had to assume, but one that you had now found out you would be assuming in front of these elven men that you had never even seen. And here you were, entertaining their reaches for your hand with a bow–a symbol of submission that even the lord of Imladris himself had never asked of you, but was expected of you from these strangers. The thought almost hurt more than the crooked turn of your ankles as you pushed yourself back up to stand. 

“I don’t see why I’ll be doing this,” you said as Erestor approached you, “Isn’t it they who should be bowing? They must appeal to me, you know. This hurts my ankles.”

Erestor almost laughed. “Don’t tell me you, the great huntress of the house of Imladris has stiff joints.”

“You’re hardly one to talk,” you replied, “Aren’t you always complaining about your shoulder?”

“That’s different,” he said, “It is the aftermath of a healed arrow wound. That’s something you need to work on, anyways.”

“What?”

“You need to learn to bite your tongue.”

You scoffed. “Bite my tongue?” you said in disbelief, “Erestor, I know I made a promise, but the farther along we get with this preparation the less I want to hold up my end of the deal.”

“I’m serious. It’s not just about courting; if you meet someone with a smart mouth, would you want to be around them? Courting is hard when you act so condescending and snide.” 

“All the better,” you said, “Besides, I am not condescending or snide.”

No, Erestor thought, I can just think of a better use for that mouth.

He cringed at himself.

“Aren’t you supposed to be convincing me to want to get married?” you said, “So far it has been hardly appealing.”

Erestor smiled, “Yes,” he said, “But I supposed that while we had all that fun dancing I would teach you a thing or two before this debutante ball–of sorts. Lord Elrond is responsible for arranging it, anyway. Do you want to embarrass him with your crass manner at a party he threw in your honor?”

You cut your eyes. “Embarrass Elrond?”

“All right,” Erestor said, “You caught me. Elrond has asked that someone see to it that you are properly prepared for this party–ball–thing.”

You huffed. “I wouldn’t be to blame, anyway. Just because it’s in my honor doesn’t mean I’m excited for it, or even wanted it in the first place.”

“Nevermind that,” Erestor continued, dismissing your gauche attitude, “I haven’t really done anything to convince you–not yet.”

He took your hand and placed in it a package tied with white ribbon before kissing your knuckles.

“What is this?”

He smiled tightly. “It is a gift. People who court one another often share gifts of this sort.”

“I see.” 

“Well, then,” he said, “I think I should be off. Lots of work, and you’ve a gift to open.” 

______________________________________________________________________________

The package was easy to open and its content was easier to love–A creamy white gown with a satin bodice and train and chiffon sleeves with the same golden embroidery all over and a wide v-shaped neckline. It was folded neatly inside the package with a parchment tucked away inside. Written in all too familiar handwriting you read the following.

Y/N,

It would be an honor if you would visit me for dinner and dessert in my personal dining hall tomorrow just before dusk. If you would like to decline this invitation, please inform me as soon as you are able.

Warm regards,

Erestor.

You straightened your back and pressed your lips into a thin line, hiding the smile that was playing at your lips even though there was no one to be hiding it from. Dinner with Erestor had never sounded so enticing. Sure, you had eaten dinner with him–and Glorfindel, Elladan, Lindir, Arwen, Elrohir, and practically every other elf that is in moderate proximity with the lord Elrond or his family; but you had never had dinner with just Erestor–alone and in his private dining hall. 

You’d never been there–of course; why would you have been?–and you wondered if the word “private” meant that it was for his use only or if it meant that the dining hall was more intimate. Did he have lots of servants like Elrond did? He was held in very high esteem, so surely he had some. How formal was it? Just dinner? Or “hair done, perfume, fine jewelry, and new dress” dinner? You were just curious, you told yourself, or out of casual inquiry–it was your business to know the nature of the occasion, after all. Wasn’t it?

Your “curiosity” (really just anticipation, but you were none too keen to admit that your cheeks were extra rosy each time you thought about it) kept you up the rest of the day and most of the  next day. In fact, you had slept so late, it was nearly time to get yourself ready by the time you woke up. Never mind that you took extra care to fix your hair just right or that you used just a little extra of your favorite perfume. 

______________________________________________________________________________

“So, are we having dinner because you want to use ‘date night’ to convince me to give these bastards a shot, or are we having dinner so you can teach me a few staples in your guide of dinner table manners?”

“This is to open your heart, yes,” Erestor replied as he pulled a chair out for you, “Though, if it were the latter, I would certainly recommend that you not use the word ‘bastard’ at the dinner table. In fact, there are many who prefer that you do not use it at all.”

It stung just a little bit when he was reminded that this was not a ‘date,’ as you called it, but rather a detail of fulfilling your end of the agreement. You carried on for some time with pleasant small talk–talk that had you blushing like an elfling would over a frivolous infatuation–over salmon and vegetable stew.

“Thank you for dinner, Erestor. It has been such a relaxing evening. I’ve surely needed it–with all the preparation and whatnot leading up to tomorrow’s rehearsal.”

He wiped his chin with the napkin after sending you an inquisitive look, but he spoke before you had the chance to explain yourself. 

“Would you like to follow me to the balcony?”

He opened the door in front of you to reveal a large, rail-less balcony overlooking the north gardens. To your right was a large table, presumably for outdoor dining, and to your left, a light green sofa with red end tables hosting two glasses and a bottle of wine. You blushed. It wasn’t easy to forget the night you had struck the deal with him–but the wine on the table happened to be of the same make as the wine under which he held you so close so deep in the clear water of that secret pool.

You both took a seat. 

“What rehearsal?” he said after pouring you a glass.

“The one for the banquet,” you replied, “You know–where I am going to sit, who will be introduced first, who I will dance with first.”

You weren’t sure if it was the reflection of the full moon you saw in Erestor’s eyes or disappointment. A few more minutes–well, you weren’t really sure; it could have been an hour–of comfortable silence passed before you heard Erestor’s voice.

“Then I take it I was successful in convincing you?”

You weren’t sure when you had moved so close to Erestor, or he to you, but you weren’t sure you were entirely disappointed about it either. You could smell him–tobacco and leather. ‘When did you start smoking?’ you wanted to ask, but found yourself at a loss for words when you met his eyes. 

Was he going to say something? Or did he expect you to? He brushed a lock of hair out of your face with the hand that hadn’t found itself cupping your shoulder and pulling you even closer to him. You knew what he wanted when he tilted his head ever so slightly, but what did he expect from you? That he would kiss you, of course. Even a part of you expected you to–even wanted you to; but there was no time to sort out what you wanted and what was expected before Erestor acted and his lips parted and met yours. 

The kiss very quickly turned electric as he pulled you nearly atop him. His teeth found your bottom lip. You didn’t mind when his tongue slipped into your mouth, which Erestor found out very quickly at the whine you let out. 

You had just begun to sweat when you felt his lips begin to trail down your jaw. 

“Is this something you’ve yet to teach me?”

He hummed at the junction of your neck and collarbone. “This is something that is supposed to convince you,” he said, lingering on your collarbone. 

“I think you need to work a little harder to convince me.” 

Your breath hitched when you felt the tie at the back of your dress come loose. You had found yourself at your breaking point when he let out a short, breathy chuckle–his nonchalant demeanor an implication that he very well could convince you this way, and very easily so. You decided with no inner turmoil that you had no problem with his method of persuasion. Your legs pressed together for a moment, only to be pulled apart so that they straddled his thigh as you found yourself completely on top of him.  You weren’t sure exactly how long it was before your dress fell down your shoulders–probably not that long, but it felt like an eternity. In fact, you weren’t even sure when the rest of it made its way to the floor shortly after, but you had decided that was none of your business, only Erestor’s. 

“Is this what you want?” he asked. The velvet-like voice you had always heard from the library and council rooms had become a little bit thicker than you had remembered. 

You rolled your hips, and had it not been for your excitement that was only spurred on by Erestor’s voice and your state of undress, you would have rolled your eyes. You were already naked–did he think there was any going back?

“Words, Mírë*,” he said, “I need you to tell me.”

“Yes,” you breathed, “This is what I want.”

It wasn’t long before you were rolling your eyes, but for another reason entirely. Erestor’s movement was steady. He stuck to his reserved demeanor regarding voice, rather busying his mouth with kissing your jaw and neck, and you weren’t sure if you preferred that or if you would rather hear him.

 The angle he adjusted to so that he could attach his lips to your collarbone caused him to brush along the perfect spot inside of you. It wouldn’t be long before you tipped over the edge, Erestor gathered from the tug on his inky locks that grew tighter and tighter. You almost felt him smirk into your skin.

“Let go.”

His voice was what did it for you (and something that would later do it for you time and time again, but later wasn’t at the front of your mind at the moment). You followed his simple instructions as he guided you through your ecstasy, following shortly after your with stuttering hips and shut eyes.

His breath steady as he pulled you to rest onto his chest. You shut your eyes and breathed out a tired smile before relaxing in his embrace. You weren’t sure what time it was when you began to doze, but the moon was high in the sky by the time he interrupted. 

“Sit up a moment,” Erestor said as he directed you to sit on the bench and stood up himself, “I have something for you.” 

You sat, half awake on the bench for a moment before Erestor appeared with a small porcelain trinket box in his palm. You turned to him as he opened it and revealed to you a necklace of alternating amethyst beads and gold cut in the shape of forget-me-nots and embedded with fine cut diamonds. It was probably the most beautiful thing you had ever seen, and you wondered if it was the most expensive.

Suddenly the reality of your current situation hit you: you, who had all but vowed never to take a husband, stood bare before the chief counselor of Imladris as he presented before you what anyone in their right mind would classify as a courting gift. Was it shame you felt? Regret? No. Guilt? Maybe. You were about to accept a finer gift than many would see in their life from a man you had just slept with and had been repressing an infatuation with for a long time, only to go on about your life, and either remain unmarried or under great duress marry one of these strangers that you would soon be presented with–not him. 

“I can’t take it.”

Erestor frowned. “Why?”

“This isn’t part of the agreement–none of this is,” you said quietly and closed his hand back over the pendant, “You are convincing me that courting is appealing, not convincing me to–you know.” 

“To what?”

Erestor’s warm breath fanned over your collarbones, and you shuddered at the contrasting chilly air that swept in from the balcony. You had never been very articulate, even in things you were passionate about; so the longer Erestor’s gray eyes peered into yours for a trace of the four-letter word you couldn’t even bear to think, the tighter the knot in your chest grew.

“You know what,” you said, pulling your dress back up your torso.

He swallowed. “One would think it pains you to say it.” You tightened your jaw.

Erestor’s eyes bore down at you with something in between disappointment and anguish, something between dismay and heart wrenching grief that you couldn’t quite place as his arms circled you to tie your dress in the back, ever the gentleman even in defeat. “Say it, Mírë*. Give me that much.”

You swallowed. You knew, deep down, that you owed him that much; you owed him clarity and sound closure for the end of the thing you had been entertaining–fling, situationship, or whatever it was. But, then again, he was the one that found you in the garden and struck that silly deal with you, albeit a bit drunkenly. So you settled. You should have felt a little more guilty about the hasty and half-assed apology you were about to give than you did, but somewhere in between holding your aloof facade and tending a burning passion for the chief counselor of Imladris (some people had a name for that inner fire, but you’d never really been ready to call it what it was) you lost a little bit of morality.

“I’m sorry,” you said, “I’ll see you tomorrow at one-thirty for my dancing lesson.”

Erestor didn’t tear his eyes away from the place you were standing until long after you had left.

[skoulsons]

started crying thinking about this at 1am in bed so. ✌🏻 my writing doesn’t do the mental image I had justice so please bear with me ok i got sad and am a Bad Writer

-

Tommy gave it to her. Ellie had been asking him endless questions about Sarah that he could barely answer without cracking. Eventually the conversation was too taxing on Tommy, so he gave Ellie the picture. This is her, he’d said. She was a… beautiful kid.

It was the one of Joel with his hand over Sarah’s eyes. Both their faces were beaming and their smiles were so wide.

She didn’t think Joel could smile that wide. And Sarah? Yeah, she did have a killer smile.

Joel didn’t know Tommy gave Ellie the picture, but what caught him even more off guard was seeing Ellie admire it.

His hitched breath is what alerted Ellie to his presence. Joel made his way from the living room to the kitchen with a shaky breath and fists tight enough to draw blood from his palms.

Ellie kid the photo quickly and followed Joel, pestering him with a mix of are you okay’s and I’m sorry’s. Ellie’s concerns never landed on his ears—only the swift, fleeting sound her laugh as he covered her eyes and the dad! Shouted as he chuckled at the photo opportunity.

Sarah. Her smile. Her laugh. Her voice.

-

They don’t talk about it. At least, not until later. Not until Ellie’s curiosity got the best of her. Not until Joel had calmed down and she thought maybe.

Besides, she lost Riley. And Henry. And Sam. He’d understand, right? Thinking about her the way Ellie thinks about them? Dreaming about them?

She was his daughter, of course he did. His nightmares filled with it should’ve been me over and over again. They had to be about Sarah.

Maybe, in a way, it was selfish to ask him about her. Maybe, also, she was doing it so he could have the chance to talk about her. It couldn’t hurt, right?

“Do you still think about her?”

Joel shuffled his feet and breathed. Lying and leaving both crossed his mind, but they wouldn’t do any good. She’d come back with them again sometime later. He nodded his head. “Every day,” he said, keeping his voice steady.

Ellie nodded at the response. Really, that was all she needed. It answered her question. But, again, curiosity. What was she like? What made her laugh? Did you watch movies with her, too?

To her surprise, she’s not the one to ask the next question.

“Do you have it?”

His question surprised her, but Ellie didn’t waste a second to run upstairs, two steps at a time, and grab the photo.

When she returned, Joel’s face was in his hands. He wasn’t crying, not yet at least, but he must’ve been preparing.

Ellie wondered if he’d seen her face in full since That Day.

She sat beside him again and held the photo out. “Here,” she whispered.

He took the picture from her and held it in both his hands, his left thumb gently under Sarah’s chin.

Joel sniffed seeing her in full now. How perfect she was.

And the realization hits him way too late that all he ever did was take her for granted. Her first word, her first steps, the first time she fed herself with a fork. Her first swimming lessons and her first day of soccer practice. Their first guitar lesson together and the first time sarah cooked breakfast for him before work, just because she wanted to.

He hugged her extra tight that morning.

Every fair, museum visit and road-trip were taken for granted. Every smile and cry. Every bloody knee, twisted ankle, and calloused finger.

Joel rubbed his left thumb over her face gently and, for a brief moment, it felt like her skin. It wasn’t her face on a piece of paper anymore, it was her. The perfect, clean skin he’d washed more time than he could count. The cheeks that he’d wiped tears from so many times over. The nose he’d kissed when she was a baby. It was her.

He cried. He clutched the photo as gently as he could in one hand and cried.

Ellie was there, of course. She was pressed against his arm, her hand draped over his arm that was periodically wiping the tears from his face. His other hand was still holding tightly to the photo, his thumb occasionally brushing over her face.

And after Joel felt her the way he’d denied doing for twenty years, he talked about her more. Her beautiful smile. The way she’d always laugh at his stupid attempts at dad jokes. Her height, her room, the music she liked and how she and Tommy would gang up on Joel all turned into lengthy conversations and heartwarming memories between them.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Rewrite of a thing with Fierce :)

“The last time I showed mercy, it cursed the Hero’s Spirit. I will not make that mistake ag--” A double helix sword met the Master Sword before it could deal the ending blow to the sorceress.

“Extinguish the flames of your anger, Young One.” The voice had Time’s rumble to it but with impossibly more depth. “It is not worth the stain to your soul to end this weak magician.” Sky was stunned out of the storm cloud of rage that had fueled his fight since entering this place. Fierce Deity used the enchanted blade to guide him to lower his weapon.

“She hurt my successors.” Sky’s voice cracked, he hated how much it sounded like he was about to cry . “She hurt the Little Ones...” The things he'd seen in nightmarish vision every time he closed his eyes ate at him. Time had donned the mask-- one that hurt him-- for reasons Sky couldn’t fathom. Fierce continued to speak as he took the opportunity to carefully step Sky back from the sorceress.

“Hylia's descendant is with everyone but Little Soldier. The Sheikah Elder will take the sorceress to meet justice as befits mortals...” Impa--when had Impa arrived? And more than that, how did the war god seem to know her?-- was clamping manacles made out of brilliant crystal around the witch's wrists and ankles.

“These were spelled by Lana, the other half of her soul, and will suppress her magic until the Queen can seal it away again.” Impa explained as she began to lead her prisoner away.

“Peace, Little Songbird. It is over now.” a giant hand settled on his back, the warmth and weight of the contact almost took his knees out from under him in an instant.

“Little Soldier are you well?”

“Hey, FD...” Warriors was ok! He was moving, talking, and Sky couldn't see any obvious wounds. “I'm well enough.” He waved off the question as he crossed the room towards them. Sky was once more the focus of Fierce's attention.

“Now, Little Hero is rather insistent about this...” Sky was scooped up and cradled like a child in the arms of the giant almost before Sky could realize what was happening. “Come, you both are in need of medical care and rest.”

Awww Fierce Dadity and his nicknames are back!! ❤️❤️❤️ Sky deserves to shred Cia, YES 🙌🏻 this was sweet ❤️☺️

[patrochillesvibes]

Are there any possible "Sex Sent Me To The ER" scenarios with Patrochilles?😈😈

I once read a fic with a sounding incident!

And I did co-write a fic involving anal tears with @knicknocknick

I’m sorry anon, but I don’t really have the most thrilling answers for you 😔 See, Patroclus is an excellent Daddy who takes very good care of his bratchilles. Of course there have been incidents, but nothing so serious...

They both end up with quite a bit of bruising. Achilles has a preference for very hard spankings, so his backside will often be thoroughly bruised. Pat loves to manhandle Achilles and Achilles loves to be manhandled. Achilles usually has fingerprint bruising on his hips/waist.

Achilles is a biter and scratcher. Especially when Achilles gets his nails done, Pat’s back will be scratched up. Pat often sports bite marks along his shoulders. Achilles in turn will often have some beard burn along his inner thigh and in a *ahem* more intimate area.

More than once Achilles has hit his head on the headboard from the force of Pat’s thrusts, but that usually only leaves (at most) a lump.

A few times they fell off the bed, but (at most) that was more bruising and perhaps a hurt wrist. Achilles usually finds it funny and is eager to resume from this new position.

Achilles is prissy about only one thing: rug burns. He HATES them. He’s one of those crazy people with a 25-step skincare routine, so it really fucking bothers him when his skin gets irritated. Whenever Achilles is on his knees and carpet/rug is involved, he must have a blanket, pillow, or something. He will whine and bitch endlessly otherwise.

Anal tears are not common but have happened. It’s usually from Achilles saying he’s already prepped (not a lie, but it was a rushed job) and Pat believing him. See, Patroclus is big. He’s at least 8-inches and THICK. Achilles is the biggest baby when he gets a tear. He will act like he’s dying.

In my hcs, Achilles is physically smaller than Pat. He’s at most 5’8” and lithe with toned, not bulky, muscles (cross between a distance runner and a gymnast) (<- all to maintain the androgynous look). But he is by no means “light.” Being a spoiled princess, he often insists on being carried. Please everyone, let’s say a silent prayer 🙏 for Pat’s back. Pat has definitely thrown out his back more than once. Of course this never deters Achilles who will just ride Pat until his back is better.

Patroclus is extremely picky about restraints. He absolutely hates handcuffs (they’re dangerous) (Achilles got locked in a pair once bcs he absentmindedly threw away the key. No injuries, but Pat did have to go to Walmart at 2am to buy bolt cutters). The regular cuffs they use are of the finest leather and are well-padded. There will be no wrist injuries (or gods forbid ankle injuries 😱) under Pat’s watch.

They’re not into rope play (they tried it once and Achilles had a panic attack from like a PTSD thing), so no rope injuries thank goodness.

Achilles is really into breath play, of course, but Pat’s a doctor so it’s fine. Mostly Achilles just enjoys the feeling of Pat’s palm around his throat. HOWEVER unrelated to breath play, Achilles has blacked out from an orgasm as well as fainted during scenes. The fainting was from not eating enough. Pat’s a doctor, so he was able to take care of him. Pat too has blacked out from am orgasm on more than one occasion (the first time it happened Achilles got very scared and had a panic attack).

Probably the most “extreme” injury was when Pat broke his nose. It was one of those infamous bathroom incidents. Let’s just say that some vigorous thrusting led to some bottles of body gels getting knocked over which in turn led to Pat tripping and smashing his face into shower tile. Pat was able to fix himself up, so no ER. It really freaked Achilles out tho to the point where he almost fainted. For a few days after they had to be very careful with kissing which made Achilles very anxious (he did a lot of fretting over Pat).

Achilles is a big fan of beach sex (not Pat), but rarely is it an enjoyable experience for either of them. Which Achilles always conveniently forgets despite whining for days afterwards about rashes from the sand and having to douche to clear out sand in most unfortunate places. Sand has gotten under their foreskin too. Ouch.

Speaking of outdoor sex...

Mosquitos adore Achilles. Once they went hiking and a quickie on the trail was ruined by mosquitos (at first Achilles was really into Pat slapping him, but he prefers to get slapped on the ass not other bony parts of his body) Achilles was an absolute miserable bitch for the rest of the day due to the itchy bites and ruined orgasm.

They once took a holiday at a lake house. There was a little private dock for a rowboat and two kayaks. A quickie on the dock led to Achilles getting a splinter in his ass. Pat found it hilarious. Achilles found it humiliating and was so upset with Pat.

There was also a most unfortunate incident with fire ants. That was also on a hike. Their selection of a spot for a picnic lunch was poor and made worse when dessert turned into sex. Thankfully the number of bites were manageable (the tears Achilles shed was probably worse).

And now for the one time where they did actually go to the hospital:

It was their anniversary. They’re both healthy and robust, but Achilles’ stamina is a bit higher than Pat’s. It’s never usually a problem. Except this was a very special anniversary and, naturally, they planned to spend most of their anniversary fucking. Achilles gently suggests maybe trying Viagra which he just so happens to have brought with him. Because it’s in a prescription bottle, Pat assumes he got it from his doctor. He didn’t. He got it from a random hotel employee. Let’s just say it was a special concoction similar to what male porn stars use (in Achilles defense he honestly thought it was regular Viagra). Pat noticed by hour 5 something was up, and by hour 6 he was in the ER from the pain of an engorged dick. Pat had never been in such pain in his life. The drs and nurses were laughing at the 'stupid tourists'. (Achilles did not see the danger in the situation and was not at all happy about leaving their hotel room. He believed that more orgasms would solve the problem.)

Thank you for the ask! Do you have any hcs on this?

[todoshotoroki]

𝘽𝙖𝙠𝙪𝙜𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙚𝙩'𝙨 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙟𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨

Warnings: smut, light spanking, heavy degradation, sub f bodied reader x Bakugou.〤 Minors DNI

Word count: 1.7k 

   Katsuki didn't like sharing. He made it very clear, the things that were his were not to be touched. Now, this didn't mean he wasn't good at hiding things. Nobody could have known that you and the great Bakugou Katsuki had been fucking behind everyone's back. So while he couldn't exactly show you off, he had other ways to make sure you'd always come back to him.

   So you should have known better then to start hanging around that fucking nerd.

   You should have known he would have found out, how Izuku Midoryia would walk into the common room absolutely swooning about the wonderful chat you two had together in the elevator just moments before. You had been on your way to class, and happened to pass each other on the way out. 

   It was harmless, really. Izuku was a good friend to you.

   Bakugou had to teach you a lesson. That was why he waited outside for your class to finish, before wordlessly grabbing your hand and pulling you down the hallway that was packed with students. You tried multiple times to avoid eye contact with anyone else, Katsuki was literally holding your hand for the first time in public. Plus, it only added to the suspicion when he yanked open the nearest janitor closet, pulling you inside and slamming it shut. He clicked the lock into place.

   “So are you going to explain, Bakugou? You do realize everyone just saw that right?” Your voice was irritated, and you crossed your arms over your chest. Clearly, you weren't happy. That didn't matter to him though, he wasn't here to make you happy right now. “Don't talk” He said, taking a step forward to grab your backpack, pushing it past your shoulders and onto the floor. “Excuse me? What do you think-”

   His face instantly turned into a scowl, and his hand came up to grip tightly onto your jaw, the pads of his fingers and the tips of his nails digging into your cheeks. “Shut your mouth before I fucking shut it for you” He growled, leaning close to your face to make sure you could hear him clear enough. “You think your so fucking hot, hiding away in an elevator with that fucking idiot. You wanted to make me jealous? That why? Fucking brat” The closet was dark, but his piercing red eyes burned into yours as he pushed you all the way to the back of the wall. 

   “W-What are you talking about? I wasn't flirting with Izuku-” Your protest was interrupted by a harsh slap to the cheek, your face lurching to the side from the impact. “Say his name one more fucking time, I dare you little girl” 

   This was new. Katuski had always been dominant, it was his personality. Though, you had never seen him practically seething with jealousy. Your thighs were already getting sticky. “B-but I really wasn't” You weakly defended yourself as Katsuki’s free hand traveled down to your skirt, shoving it down past your hips. “B-b-but i-i-” He mocked your voice harshly, his fingers reaching behind you to roughly grab at your ass, before landing another harsh smack to your lower cheek. 

   “Your so fucking dumb, you don't even realize the effect you have on people. You need glasses? Huh four eyes? Couldn't see how he was gushing over your little talk today?” His grip on your jaw slowly slid down your neck and across your throat, pinching the sides between his thumb and index finger. Enough to hurt, but air still flowed to your lungs. “Maybe I just have to show you baby. You were a virgin when i first fucked you, my little virgin, right?” 

   “Y-yeah, Katsuki, please..” Your face burned in shame, but you couldn't deny the desperation he made you feel. It was so hot to see him all bothered like this, how possessive he could be. You weren't even publicly dating yet.

   “Guess ill just have to show you that I'm the first and last cock you'll ever fucking have” His hand came down to unbuckle his belt, yanking it off his hips and letting his jeans fall to the floor. “The only fucking one that can make you cum baby” He let go of his grip on your neck, instead placing both hands on your hips and turning you around to press your breasts up against the cold wall. It wasn't cold for long though, because Katsuki’s burning hot hand slithered between your shirt and the wall to grope at your breasts, pushing your bra up your chest.

   His knee parted your thighs, his foot kicking each of your ankles to spread them. “Open your fucking legs” He grunted in your ear, his free hand gripping tighter on your hip. You weren't sure when he took his briefs off, but you could feel the throbbing head of his cock parting your folds to rub up against your clit. “Katsukiii- Just fuck me already” You begged in a small whine, tilting your head back to lean up on his shoulder.

   Bakugou leaned down to press a loud, sloppy, wet kiss to your lips as he began to gently fuck his cock between your thighs. “You want me to fuck you baby girl? You sure you deserve this cock? You've been naughty, so fucking naughty” He growled in your ear as he began to teasingly fuck himself between your thighs, smearing his precum all over your soft skin, painting them white in his milky substance. 

   “Yes, yes please, I want it Suki, I want you nooow” Your whine was switched into a sing-songy tone. You reached between your legs, your fingers dancing on the tip of Bakugou's cock as it rubbed at your clit each time he fucked himself between your thighs. His hard cock throbbed between your legs for attention, and his breathing shuttered at your touch.

    “Naughty girl” He muttered, pulling his cock back just enough to push it as far as he could go into your pussy.

   “Fuck, Fuck, your so tight baby” He groaned, his arms circling tightly around your waist as he felt the weight of your body slack against his at the sudden intrusion of his cock. “K-Katsu- you- you went all the way in-inside” Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, Katsuki leaned forward, his tongue rolling across your salty cheek to lap up your fallen tears. “Yeah baby, it's because you've been such a bad girl, gotta show you, gotta.. Fuck, gotta teach you to be good”  

   He pulled almost all the way out, just barely emptying you before slamming his cock back into your guts. He instantly hit the right angle, his cock filling you so perfectly and hitting you in all the right spaces. One of the lewdest moans you've ever heard fell past his lips and slipped right into your ear, and you were so thankful his mouth was right next to your ear.

    “Your such a fucking slut, getting my cock wet like this”

“Katsu- Katsuki wait-”

   No, only good girls were able to make demands, and you had infuriated Bakugou Katsuki to the point where even now he was holding back from fucking you too harsh, constantly aware if he was setting his quirk off or not. He almost wanted to say fuck it. 

   Too fast? Too harsh? Too deep?

   “Too fucking bad, your my little bitch right now” He growled, his movements speeding up and causing a new course of pleasure to shoot through both of your bodies. He reached up with his left hand, gripping your jaw and tilting your head to press a sloppy kiss onto your lips, roughly digging his teeth into your bottom lip as the sounds of smacking skin echoed in the room. “You- you’re so mean Kacchan” Maybe he was, but the way your pussy clenched and desperately sucked at his cock told him how much you were enjoying yourself.

   “No, no I think you're the mean one. Letting dumbass Deku think he has a chance with you- no fucking way” His sentence ended in a growl as the hand on your jaw returned to its place around your throat. “Not that he’d ever want you if he knew the truth- if he knew how much you loved fuckin’ creamin’ all over my cock, hah, fuck” His movements sped up, your legs felt tingly and the knot of ecstasy begin to pile in your stomach. 

   “‘M sorry, ‘m sorry Katsuki, please make me cum, please” Your words were weak, pathetic little whines tumbling helplessly past your lips. “M so sorry, I won't do it again, just please” God you sounded so hot. Your voice sounded so hot. The wet sounds the mixture of his dick in your pussy made together were so fucking hot. 

   “Dirty little girl, aren't you ashamed to be cumin all over me? All over my cock?” Katsuki couldn't deny his own release approaching, but he held off for that beautiful moment when you finished together. “No, betcha get off on it, you sick, twisted slut. My cheap little whore” 

   He knew when your head leaned back into his shoulder and your hand reached behind to grab the base of his hair, that you were cumming. As if the tightening around his cock wasn't already enough intel. On top of that, you knew what pulling his hair did to him, you knew, you dirty little succubus- 

   “Fuck baby, that's it, cum all over me, cum all over my cock sexy” His hips sputtered as you both came, his cock vibrating inside your pulsating walls as he shot out long spurts of semen inside of you. “So good ‘Suki, so good inside of me”

   Both of you spent a few moments panting, catching your breaths. Bakugou laid his head on your shoulder, placing kisses along your collarbone. With a breathy chuckle, he was reminded of the hectic hallway just outside. Surely there would be rumors now, rumors that would reach Izuku Midoryia and crush every single one of his hopes and dreams. 

   Slowly, he lifted his head up to smile at you. “Hey, dumbass” He said with a cocky grin. 

   “What would people say if they knew you were such a slut for me?”

𝐼𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒, 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑎𝑦 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒:  "𝙇𝙪𝙨𝙩, 𝙆𝙖𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙞, 𝙡𝙪𝙨𝙩”

𝑂𝑟 𝑚𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑑 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ♡

© all copy rights reserved, do not claim, copy, or repost

[buckybarnesdiaries]

a piece of cake

© @jamesbrnes

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Something happens at Shuri's birthday party that leads to a heated fight.

word count: 3k words. (fuck, it worth every damn word)

warnings/tags: nsfw, +18!!! angry jealous sex, let's start there. unprotected sex, oral sex (face fucking and ridding), fingering, brief daddy!kink, brief praise!kink, language, cursing, handcuffing, mention of bodily fluids, and probably i'm forgetting something else, i just lost my mind. bucky being the cutest and loving man on earth at the end.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

join the tag list here.

You had never been so quiet, but you knew that opening your mouth only could cause a storm inside the car, on your way back home. Believing you could have a pinch of luck, Bucky wouldn't notice that something was raving you mad since the moment you watched him letting another woman give him a spoon of cake. Straight to his mouth. You almost choked on your drink, talking to Shuri about how excited she was to celebrate her birthday in New York, when you witnessed the scene hearing their laughs and watching how they dared to touch his metal arm constantly. Your boyfriend was talking with some of his old friends from Wakanda, not even knowing he made friends there. He never said a word about it. Even so, they didn't have the right to flirt with him. Unless he didn't say anything about you.

But Bucky wasn't stupid. Or at least, not like you thought. Gazing you by the corners of his blue eyes, he was conscious that something was going wrong. He licked his upper lip briefly, slowly. He tasted the waters putting a hand on your thigh, which was your favorite gesture while he was driving, deriving with your fingers laced and him placing kisses on the back of your hand. But you didn't move an inch, still staring through the copilot's window with your elbow nailed there and your chin resting on your knuckles.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing”.

Your passive tone and the lie as a response caused him to frown, pulling over the car to focus on you. He turned on his seat and placed a hand behind the headrest of yours.

“Spit it”.

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow ironically, looking at him for a second. If he had to ask it was because he wasn't really seeing the dilemma there.

“I'm just tired and I wanna go home, James. That's all”.

James. James. You did it unconsciously, but he didn't take it as an innocent manner of calling him. Unexpressive, the soldier joined the highway driving faster than he used to. You had pissed him off, but it wasn't your problem. He had hurt your feelings with something he didn't give any importance to. The only thing you wanted was to take a shower, put on your comfier pajamas and go to sleep, probably you'd see tomorrow that situation differently than today and you could move on from your insecurities and the jealousy running through your veins.

You arrived at your apartment in record time, keeping the car inside the parking under the building. You removed the seat belt to wear your leather jacket and grab your purse on your feet, stepping out when you were ready. But Bucky stayed inside, just turning off the engine. He didn't have any intention of leaving it, maintaining his hands tightly gripped around the wheel. You ignored him as soon as you couldn't pretend you were just tired anymore. It was the first time something like that happened and you were having a strong desire to throw your guts up.

Three minutes later you were under the warm water with your forehead resting against the cold wall and your eyes closed. Maybe you were overreacting and the rational, mature behavior would be to go to talk with him, tell your boyfriend what made you feel upset. Sighing as you nodded two times, determined to put the cards on the table, you shut off the faucet and walked out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.

“Oh, fucking hell!” You growled because of the scare of your life when you found Bucky already in your shared room.

He had his back supported on the wall, a leg flexed, and his hands behind himself. No expression on his face, but expecting an explanation from you. You were hoping for something from him too, maybe I don't know what I've done to make you feel like that, can you give me a clue? He just stared at you in silence, drying the pearls of water decorating your body before wearing a pair of black panties and your forgotten pajamas instead of one of his t-shirts impregnated on his scent.

“Com'ere”. Bucky whispered, stretching his flesh hand on air when you were about to go to sleep.

“No”.

Well, that wasn't the proper way to talk like grown adults. You crossed both arms on your chest, standing next to your side of the bed.

“What'd you say?” He squinted incredulous, slowly standing from the wall, pretending you hadn't uttered that word.

“I said no, you fucking punk”.

“The hell d'you think you're talking to, darling?”

“To the cretin who let other women flirt and touch him”. You replied with evident annoyance. “Why don't you go to show them your daddy's skills, uh? Sure I can find someone who respects me in the meantime”.

Suddenly, a grimace you hadn't seen before on him appeared like a thunderbolt. You weren't sure if you just made him feel more furious or if you just broke his heart. But before you could figure it out, Bucky shorted the distance between both in two fast strides and his hands gripped your throat and the back of your neck respectively, pinning you to the closest wall and tossing the lamp on your nightstand to the floor. You complained slightly —with his tongue wildly invading your mouth— because of the strength he used to put you against the wall.

You tried to push him away, to not fall into his charmings, but he made your mind blank when his fingers were firmly nailed in your ass and his body was accommodated between your legs. Your fiery provoked a bulge under his pants so painful that in every rock against your core he wasn't sure if it hurt or if it was some kind of pleasure he couldn't handle. Out of breath, Bucky attacked your neck, digging his teeth in your neck with so much passion that you screamed delighted his full name while pulling his hair. That gesture drove him insane, losing the less sanity he had at that point. With just a push, your boyfriend ripped off your shirt to strip you, in anticipation of your panties suffering the same fate.

Bucky threw you to the mattress on your abdomen, perfectly positioned to what was about to happen. He was so eager, so desperate for showing you what he was feeling that he didn't lose time taking off his clothes, just undoing his belt and unzipping his jeans to pull them down to his ankles along his boxers. You heard him spitting in his hand to use it as lube, although you were sufficiently soaked and ready for your Buck that neither of you needed his saliva. He rammed his dolorous erection into your cunt, crashing his pelvis and pressing it against your ass with all his strength, causing you to drown a loud cry in the sheets.

Tangling his fingers with yours and lacing your arms around your neck, putting all his weight onto your back, Bucky pounded you with an insanely quick rhythm, not giving you any chance to mold your throbbing walls around his length. Your pleased vocals echoed inside your room in total sync with the hits to your g-spot. Your body received with every one of them soft cramps mixed with pain and pleasure, making you roll your eyes and tear your throat.

“'S that wh— what you wanted, uh?” Bucky snarled against the back of your neck, totally gone, not giving you a break or showing any mercy.

“Fuck, no…” You replied, challenging him.

He swallowed a rough moan, wrapping his cold fingers around your throat while using the other to pull back your hair and arch your body. “Don' fucking… lie to me, doll… You wan— wanted your daddy to make you… feel desired over tho— those women”.

And yes, he was right. More or less. But you didn't expect him to react like that. Bucky was rabidly fucking you, moving the bed from its position with every angry thrust into your pussy. You knew you weren't going to last for too long if he continued impaling you against the mattress, just like that. But you both had to recognize that it was the best session of sex of your life.

“You were… fucking mad watch— watching 'em touch my arm… your arm, right?”

You whined at the brutality he used to push his hard cock beyond your limits, holding it there as he tilted your head to crash his lips on yours. Bucky devoured them until they were shiny, swollen, slightly ached because of the bit he left on your bottom one.

“If you don't tell me… the truth… I swear I'm not gonna let you come”. The whisper fell into your ear with such a raspy tone of voice, conscious of him being very capable.

“It was… your fucking fault, James. Not… Not mine”. You grunted, feeling him going a little deeper. “I di— didn't let anybody flirt with me… as if you didn't exist”.

That was the truth, but the wrong answer for him. Suddenly, Bucky pulled out his dick covered in your arousal, freeing you from any grip. A pause that only lasted the time he took to grab the handcuffs from your nightstand to place them in your wrists and secure them around the headboard. Now you were under his total control, defying him by strongly closing your legs and frowning at him, panting and sweating.

“Lemme tell you something”. Your boyfriend said, dangerously crawling over the bed till reaching your knees and forcing them to be separated, wide spread for him. “If you think I was flirting, but you didn't see… how uncomfortable I was… This situation is not my fault”.

The tables were turned as he finished his sentence, settling himself between your legs yet kneeling to raise your ass above his lap. “Not so mouthy now, are you, doll?”

You wanted to speak back, to say something after having a second to reconsider the reason why you were so angrier at him when Bucky pushed you down and rammed his dick back to the place it belonged. You forced unconsciously your hands gripped, wanting to put them on him —wherever—. As soon as he handcuffed you, your desire for touching him used to be suffocating. But you were the one who played from the start, instead of telling him how you were feeling about that situation at Shuri's party.

Bucky didn't even let you kiss him, stabilizing you on top with an arm around your waist and his cold hand holding the back of your head. His hips rocked straight to your g-spot once and once, making you lose any kind of control over your body as your boyfriend didn't have any compassion, needing to find relief to his sorrowful erection by cumming inside your clenching walls. You were driving him crazy, maintaining your eye contact at all moments and almost drinking your delighted, obscene crying, aware that only him could cause you to be so dirty.

“Feels good, uh…? You like it?” Your boyfriend brushed your lips with his, depriving you of his kisses or any other touch. “Bec— 'cause you take your daddy... so damn good, baby girl… So tight… so tight you could kill me”.

“Yes, da— daddy”. You whimpered nodding your head. “Only you… can fuck me li— like that… Only you”.

“That's it… that's it, oh, fuck… fuck, doll”.

You saw him roll that pair of beautiful blue eyes to the back of his head, feeling Bucky's thighs tensing under your legs. You didn't want anything else than making him cum, after overthinking about how he felt, and not about what you witnessed. He was right, more or less. He was still being so innocent in those kinds of situations that he used to feel like a scared kid.

You suddenly fell back to reality when the emptiness sensation invaded you. Bucky pulled out his length from you again, causing you to beg in silence for not denying you the orgasm you were about to reach. But he warned you. Bucky asked you to tell him the truth and you chose to challenge him. Letting you sit on the mattress, he flexed a leg to guide his twitching cock to your mouth, not needing to tell you what he wanted you to do. You just parted your lips, receiving him without protesting, curling your fingers when he forced your limits, and positioned both hands on your head. Twirling your tongue around his base as you could, with your cavity completely invaded, Bucky provoked you a strong gag. A gesture that led to his warm seed being spilled down your throat.

“Fuck my life, baby girl!” He couldn't help but howl driven by the pleasure as you coughed and made vibrate his sensitive skin.

Just holding his dick trapped by your lips for a second, he freed your mouth, taking his time to admire you swallowing his cum and showing afterward your tongue. God, you looked so beautiful disheveled, with teary eyes and swollen lips because of the effort.

“Want me to tell you something else?” Bucky asked while cleaning the sweat in his forehead with the back of his arm, taking the small key to liberating you with his free hand.

You didn't reply, not needing to, as he rubbed your wrists to comfort your skin before lying by your side.

“Com'ere”. He whispered, yet trying to recover your breathings. Bucky wrapped you with his flesh arm, rubbing his iron fingers up and down your tense belly, creating a contrast that caused you goosebumps. “'M so sorry for making you feel like that”.

He kissed you. Slowly, passionate, tasting his own juices mixed with your saliva. Caressing your tongue with the tip of his, and no rush. You felt his digits touring down your skin, till finding your throbbing and needed clit. You weren't able to hold back a sweet moan when he circled his fingertip over your sensible pearl, gladly drinking your vocals.

“When I wanted to react… she was putting that damn spoon into my mouth. It felt horrible, doll, I promise”. He murmured, venturing his long cold finger to part your folds and sink it inside you —moaning at the fulfill sensation—. “You always save me from those awkward situations… but you were having fun with Shuri and I didn't want to interrupt you”.

You were feeling like shit, looking at him through your eyelids as he curved a second finger into your cunt and increased the pace of the pounds with his hand made of vibranium. Bucky spread some gentle kisses all around your face, ending with a tender bite to your lips.

“When you told me you wanted to go home, I felt a huge relief… 'Cause that was everything I wanted. Go home with you. Maybe watch a movie… cuddle… fall asleep on the sofa”.

“Oh, God, Bucky”. You wept onto his mouth, as soon as a third finger filled you, nailing his hand in the perfect position to be moved up and down. “I'm so— sorry, Buck… I'm sorry”.

“Fuck, no”. He let out, thrusting you harder, faster, creating a melody of filthy sloppy sounds while your moans were louder and louder. “I should stop 'em, I didn't… I didn't. But I respect you more than anything, doll… I love you with all my heart. I care 'bout you, 'bout your feelings… Can you forgive me? Can you… Can you cum for me?”

You nodded your head running out of words, seeing your boyfriend snaking his body down the bed to between your shaky legs, yet having his fingers knuckles deep inside you. “Keep 'em open for your man”.

The blow to your abused cunt provoked you a lash up to your backbone, landing your hands on his head as Bucky sank his face straight to your center. His digits fucked you savagely, while his tongue took control of your swollen pearl —sucking, licking, kissing, pulling it back—. He wasn't going to deny that pleasure to you, quite the opposite. You pressed unconsciously his face a little closer to your pussy, swinging your hips and riding his mouth when his caresses and his pushes became too much for you.

Bucky made you cum harder than ever, crying his name till you didn't have any strength and you were just a sack of bones under his expert mouth, devouring you and drinking your juices as if it was the elixir of life. And when he was satiated, you glanced at him using the tip of his tongue to trail a path up crossing your abdomen, the gap between your breasts, your throat, until kissing you again getting comfortable on top of you. It was a kiss full of love, and guiltiness, and necessity, and pure devotion for you.

“Did I hurt you with what I said?” You murmured, still enraptured by the fireworks fluttering within your belly.

“This isn't 'bout me”. Bucky clicked his tongue, hiding his face into your sweaty neck. “This is 'bout what I let happen”.

“That doesn't answer my question, Buck… I'm sorry about what I said. I was just… I feel insecure". You confessed stroking his scalp and back with your hands, lacing your legs together. “I didn't mean it. I would never try to… find someone who respects me more than you do. That's impossible. And not talking about how much you love me”.

“I love you with every inch of myself”. He swore, he promised, raising his face to look straight at your eyes. “I can't imagine a life without you”.

“Me either… Your love makes me feel alive”.

Bucky left one last tender kiss on your lips before suddenly standing up and holding you onto his arms to carry you to the bathroom and take a shower together —wash your hair, worship your body again as if it was the last thing he was going to do—.

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[prerodinu]

“We can figure this out. I promise you, maybe your wolf is just a little on edge, or tense, maybe I need to stop touching you, I don't know- Castor!” Artem growled, his voice booming into the space around them. The growl that the voice ended on made Castor freeze.

He was tense, feeling Wyatt’s hand on his wrist HURT, he may have been a wolf but his witch side made him want to react, or maybe that was both sides. The moment that Wyatt released his grip, Castor got up and went over to Artem, hand clutched to his chest.

“Choď domov Castor, daj Katia vedieť, že sa vrátim na pár dní domov. Chcem tu Liam, Eva a ďalšieho z Cabal. Aspoň na ochranu Rarlith. Alojz má službu sledovať Katia, kým je tu Liam.” (Go home Castor, let Katia know I’m coming home for a couple of days. I want Liam, Eva, and another one of the Cabals here. At least to protect Rarlith. Alojz is on duty to watch Katia while Liam is here) His hand came up against the back of Castor's neck gently rubbing his scent there as Castor leaned his head to the side again before nodding.

With that Castor ran out of the house, glancing back at Wyatt before he closed the door.

“I apologize for Castor's behavior. He is used to touching freely, we do that with our pack and he thought of you as such. Doesn’t excuse his behavior and I will deal with him as soon as we are done.” Artem dipped his head, a way of apologizing to Wyatt before a breath escaped his lips. Sighing as he got himself a little more comfortable in the chair, ankle crossing over his knee.

“Power. Money. Family.” Artem shrugged. “You can pick what you like Wyatt. My family can help you with money, power, and protection. My family can even be yours, or if you want to be left alone in peace with none of us ever showing up on your doorstep. I can do that. What’s important to me is my family. I can’t directly buy into the vampire land without issues. Apparently, Luka’s father is a piece of shit and a lot is going on. What I can state is that Radovan loves Luka, enough that he would do just about anything for his Mate. Who is now my family. I want to be able to protect my family. That means getting my family as close to him as possible. Which you can help with.” He glanced over at Toshiro before leaning forward just a little.

“Give me something you want Wyatt and as an act of good faith, I’ll get you that thing. Then when I do, we sit down and hash out a deal.” Even if meant that Artem had to leave for a couple of days he would.

   “It’s definitely not that.” Toshiro said quietly, a frown pulling on his face. “I know what that feels like, Artem, and if it was, the feeling wouldn’t stop when you touched me but rather when you were away.” The last thing he actually wants is the other to go away, to leave him here on his own when the house can already get too quiet. He doesn’t want him to misunderstand the situation, because his wolf definitely enjoyed having Artem close. Enjoyed wanting to have him within touching range. Which was why all of this got confusing, because while Artem was pack–he was the Pack to different people. The Pack Leader to different people. 

   Their little moment was ruined when there was a sudden spike in tension and Wyatt grabbed Castor’s wrist tightly, yanking it away from the back of his neck. His blue gaze snapped to the other Witche’s and he squeezed hard enough to at least bruise a normal person. “Do not touch me there.” He wore very high collared shirts and sweaters for a reason, clothes that covered the back of his neck. He has put up with a lot of the irritating touching, especially on the way here, he will shattered this man’s wrist if he attempted that again. 

   Toshiro moved slightly away from Artem, wondering if he needed to grab the Witch and finally toss him from the forest–but he hesitated. The emotional smell coming off of Wyatt was only one he could label as distress. The wolves can never get a read on him, especially not like this, because he always kept such a tight control over his own feelings. As an Empath, he seemed to be able to numb his own from anyone sensing what he was feeling. It was uncomfortable, having someone who just smelled like soap more or less rather than a river of multiple things. 

   But he slipped and Toshiro doesn’t like the smell he’s giving off. “Wyatt–” 

   “Shut the fuck up. I will decide where I want someone to touch me on my own body. I think that is a perfectly reasonable thing to say.” And–it was. Except where he didn’t actually want Castor’s wrist broken. Was there something wrong with his neck? 

   “For people who want my help  for some fucking damn reason you’re not making me want to help you.” Wyatt never took his gaze off of Castor and Toshiro can actually hear the sound of his heart, the up peak in it, the tension in his body. He was so over confident and powerful usually  and right now Toshiro felt like they were dealing with an actual person. “Give me one damn good reason I would want anything to do with any of you.”

[adoringhaikyuu]

date night

pairing: atsumu x f!reader

summary: atsumu forgets about date night :/

warnings: a lil sad but not too bad

word count 1.1k

notes: this was inspired by this audio lol

at first you thought that he was just running late––it happened sometimes, that's just how he was. but as you watched the time pass by ––ten minutes, then twenty... by the hour mark, you'd given up.

he forgot. he forgot about the date night that you both planned in advance, weeks ago. atsumu had been so busy for the past few months, you were so excited to just have one night to each other, one night to have him all to yourself.

you dressed up nice, putting on your fanciest, sexiest dress and heels, you took your time to get ready, knowing this was a special night, the first night you'd go out with your boyfriend in a while. and it didn't happen.

the reservation was an hour ago, and atsumu was two hours late. you were contemplating going to bed when the door burst open to reveal atsumu, panting, eyes frantic and apologetic. "baby fuck, i'm so sorry––" he practically ran towards you, throwing off his jacket and kicking off his shoes haphazardly.

he ran his hands through his hair, trying to give you a small smile but you wouldn't look at him, choosing to focus, or rather pretend to focus on the tv. "it completely slipped my mind honey, i promise i didn't mean to blow you off––not that that makes it better..."

he was met with silence and his shoulders sunk as he stepped towards you hesitantly, his feet dragging like a small child. "c'mon baby i would never do that to you on purpose, i mean...look at you, i––god i'm a fucking idiot."

you nodded subtly but he didn't comment on it, his eyes still trailing along your body. your dress fit you perfectly, it accentuated all your best features and your shoes––you rarely wore shoes like that, though they were sexy, he knew they also hurt like a bitch, so the fact that you wore those for him and he didn't even show up? he had a lot of making up to do.

"baby doll please look at me, let me see those gorgeous eyes so you can see how sorry i am." he cursed quietly to himself, looking around for some sort of answer. "please don't ignore me princess."

you kept your eyes trained forward, your tongue in your cheek as you tried to calm yourself down, the frustration and disappointment still lingering in your mind, making your body buzz. you sighed, "i don't know what you want from me, atsumu."

you could see from the corner of your eye that he was pouting dramatically, eyes wide. "wh––atsumu? what happened to baby? or bub?" he got on his knees in front of you and placed his hands on your thighs but you looked to the side, not wanting to give in.

you crossed your arms, your voice quiet when you spoke up again. "where were you?"

you noticed him hesitate and scratch the back of his head nervously. "i––well i was with the boys baby and––"

you nodded your head and he paused, scared that he'd said the wrong thing, he didn't want to mess up even more tonight. "but as soon as i remembered i came running home." you got up, and walked past him but he was quick to stand up and follow you. "but you love the boys don't you?" he was trying to make the situation better any way he could, thinking that maybe if he reminded you that you liked them, and even considered them your own friends, you wouldn't be as upset––shit logic, he knows.

you kept walking until you made it to your bedroom, "yeah i do, but they're always with you, tsumu." tsumu, that was better than his full name. you glanced over your shoulder briefly, the hurt look in your eyes stopping him in his tracks for a brief moment. "i just wanted to be with you, for once. i just––can't remember the last time we had a night to ourselves. i missed you." fuck.

you made your way in front of your vanity, looking in the mirror as you reached up to take out your earrings when atsumu's hand gently wrapped around your wrist in mid-air. "wait wait," he brought your hand up to his face and kissed your wrist, pressing his cheek into your palm. "i'm so sorry babygirl, please don't get undressed, you look too good to let all this go to waste. let me take you out, show you off–"

you shook your head, "it's late."

he felt like crying, "but––"

you shook your head again, letting your hand drop to your side. "i'm tired, babe." you reached for your earrings again and this time he didn't stop you, watching you put them away in your jewelry box.

you walked over to your side of the bed and sat down and atsumu dropped back down on his knees, reaching to take your heels off for you. "i'll make it up to you tomorrow––i'll blow off practice and you'll have me all to yourself all twenty-four hours, promise."

you appreciated the effort but sighed, both from his words and the feeling of his hands gently massaging their way from the heel to the ball of your foot. you hadn't actually walked with them so your feet weren't hurting, but you weren't going to reject the massage. "you can't just skip, you're on a professional team."

he moved onto the other foot, bringing it up to kiss your ankle. "sure i can, i just won't go." he was serious as ever, yet you couldn't help but let out a small laugh.

you ran a hand through his hair and he smiled, content with the affection you were showing him. "you're really not gonna let this go, huh?"

he shook his head and kissed up one of your calves, his hand caressing the other. "of course not." he looked at you earnestly and you could tell he wasn't joking around. "i hurt my girl and i've gotta make it up to her." he leaned up on his knees between your legs and tilted his head up towards you, a hopeful look in his eyes. "kiss?"

you bit your lip and nodded, placing your hand on his cheeks to pull him in for a sweet kiss and he sighed, hands resting on your thighs. it wasn't like your usual passionate ones, it wasn't intense, it was short but meaningful, a reassurance. when you both pulled away, he looked at you, a warm gaze in his eyes. "i love you pretty girl, i will make this right, i swear."

[sluttyten]

mark + 24 + 39 + 181? you're amazing, thank you so much!!

mark + “are my fingers not enough for you?” + receiving a massage that quickly becomes more + you being their best friend’s younger sibling

The last thing you expected when you came home from work for family dinner with your two brothers and your parents was to find that your older brother Doyoung had brought one of his groupmates home with him.

Mark Lee was stretched out on the sofa, lying on his belly, and your mother was standing over him, petting his head and offering him some tea.

"What's wrong with you?" You asked as you walked by him.

"Back hurts," he mumbles.

Doyoung comes out of the kitchen. "He's sore from practice, and I'd already invited him to come over before we decided we were just going to a restaurant instead of Mom cooking. He wouldn't listen to me when I told him to just go home and rest."

You crouch down beside Mark's head so you can look him in the eye. "You should've gone home. Or to see your parents if you don't feel good."

"Yeah, yeah," Mark lifts his head and grimaces. "I wanted to see your pretty face. Thought it might make me feel better."

"Stop flirting. It's gross." Doyoung disappears back into the kitchen. Your mother just smiles and follows after him.

You're close with Mark, so you sit there with him for a few moments to talk, and when Doyoung comes back over a few minutes later, he informs you that the decision has been made on where to go eat family dinner with Mark.

"Ah, dude," Mark groans, and he turns over onto his back. "I want to go, but I actually don't think I can. I'll just grab a taxi home, get in bed, pop some painkillers. Sitting through dinner sounds like hell right now. Even if it's with your family."

Doyoung looks like he's about to back out of dinner too, like he's going to say he can go home with Mark, but you know your parents were really looking forward to having dinner with him tonight.

"I'll watch him, Doyoung. Go enjoy dinner with our parents and Gongmyung." You stand up. "I was planning on staying in anyway. I just had dinner with you the other day, which was more than enough of your brotherly advice, and I have dinner with them all the time. Go. I'll get Mark home safely."

So several minutes later, your family has left for dinner, Mark is still lying on the sofa, and you're watching videos on your phone while you sit on the floor with your back against the sofa. Mark's looking over your shoulder, laughing along with you at the funny videos your scroll through.

"I probably should head home," Mark says. "And I can take myself home. I'm not drunk or sick, just achy." He attempts to push himself upright, and he once more grimaces in pain, and sinks back down.

"Mark, if you feel that bad, maybe I should take you to a doctor or something." You put your phone down and pull up to sit on the edge of the sofa, lay your hand on his forehead.

He shakes his head. "I'm just really sore, tense. My back just feels tight." He rolls his shoulders, and groans, "Fuck."

"Mark. Let me help you. Roll onto your stomach." You flutter your hands over him, and Mark stares at you for a long second before complying.

"What are you going to do to me?" Mark asks, getting comfortable. "Well, hey!" He exclaims when you suddenly straddle his ass.

You touch his back, running a gentle hand up his back. "I'm gonna give you a massage. You said you were tense and tight and sore. Let me help you."

Now, if anyone saw you like this--Mark on his stomach, you straddling his ass with your hands all over his back--surely they would have lots of questions. Doyoung would definitely be rolling his eyes and scoffing and telling you two to knock it off.

But Mark, when you start massaging up near his shoulders where you can feel the tense knots where his shoulders meet his neck, he relaxes. Slowly at first, but you can definitely feel him melting like butter under your touch. And your hands move lower, and you hit a certain spot and Mark moans.

You pause. Mark goes perfectly still beneath you.

"Did you just--"

Mark jerks, moving as if to get you off of him, as if to move out from beneath you. "Forget it. I can get myself home like we told Doyoung." He bucks his hips, dislodging you, and he manages just enough that he's able to flip himself over onto his back.

You sink back down, hands on his chest to keep him there. "It was working, wasn't it? Massaging your back was making you feel better?"

Mark stares up at you. "I mean, yeah, like, it was making me feel better, but..." He looks away, avoiding your gaze as his ears burn pink and a blush rises on his cheeks too.

It's cute to see him blushing. And you understand why. You can feel his reason beneath you; his dick is getting harder, and when you shift your hips subtly on top of him, Mark sucks in a breath and bites his lip. He looks back up at you.

"Is it working?" You ask again, and now when you put your hands on him, sliding your fingertips under his shirt and pushing them up his chest to start massaging, Mark rolls his hips up against you in a way so slight that it could have just been him trying to move.

You've always been close with Mark every time that Doyoung brought him around. You can't deny that you've dreamt about him several times, a few of those times being dirty dreams. It was just something about his hands, the way that he moved during choreography, the way that he'd touch you lightly when he stepped around you or was helping you with something.

You like Mark. And right now, it definitely seems like it might not be an entirely one-sided thing.

He watches you with dark eyes, and when your thumbs brush over his nipples, Mark hisses, his cock twitches, and he lifts his hips up in search of contact.

"Are my fingers not enough for you?" You ask, drumming your fingers on his chest as you lightly grind down on him. "You need more?"

Mark licks his lips, gazing at you, thinking, letting his gaze drop from your face down your body to your hips gyrating in slow circles on his lap. He nods. "Yeah," he clears his throat, "Yeah, I need more."

"Good." You smile, lowering yourself over him.

Mark smiles when you pull your hands out from under his shirt to touch his arms, and he lifts his arms under your guiding touch, crossing them over his head, held there lightly by your hand.

Mark lifts his head to meet your kiss.

You like kissing Mark. It's fun and good. It's a little bit dirty too because he's your brother's best friend and you're making out and dry humping him on the sofa like you're both horny teenagers.

Mark moans, rocking his hips up. "Fuck me," he groans.

"Is that an actual request?" You ask, resting a hand on his chest, and pressing him down into the sofa. "Want me to ride you?"

"I do want that, do you?" Mark frees one of his hands to reach down and slip it under your shirt.

"Yeah." You nod. "I do want that too." You slip off his lap, and Mark's mouth falls open as if to ask what the hell you're doing then, but as soon as he sees you shimmying your pants down to your ankles, Mark shuts his mouth and reaches down to open his pants.

When you straddle him again, Mark's hand returns to your hip, sliding higher up your stomach and pushing your shirt with it. He touches your chest, grinding his erection up against you.

You reach down, pull your panties aside, and you curl your hand around Mark's cock, stroking him until he's moaning for you again. You like seeing him so eager, pink in the face and bucking into your touch.

You sigh as you rub him against your entrance, as he bucks up, pressing into you.

He massages your chest, looking into your eyes as he thrusts up again, and this time he enters you smoothly, and you sink down on him, taking Mark in deeply.

"You can't cum in me, okay?" You tell him. "That's my one rule."

Mark nods. "Got it. I'll let you know when I'm close." He reaches up and drags you down into a kiss.

Riding Mark and kissing Mark on the sofa all because you were trying to give him a massage; you can't believe it's happening. You've dreamt of things like this before, fantastic scenarios your horny brain cooked up, particularly one about riding him in a hot tub.

But right now it's reality. You're kissing Mark and bouncing on his cock, hearing him moaning as you massage his cock. He keeps touching your chest, pushing your shirt higher and higher until your chest is exposed to the air, nipples peaking at the cool touch.

"Mark," you moan, gripping his shoulder and sitting up to roll your hips slowly down on him, feeling his length filling you for longer than a moment. "Feel so good."

"Yeah, you do." He leans up as much as he's able to kiss at your neck, and then he kisses lower, his tongue flicks over a nipple. It doesn't feel like much to you, but it's clearly doing something for him to be touching you like this. Mark moans, rocking up to get you to move on his cock again.

Your eyes flutter shut as he starts to take control from beneath you, fucking up into you as he pleases, his breath fanning against your chest.

"Fuck," he moans. "Ah, shit, you feel so good. I'm gonna cum, shit."

You like listening to him swear like this, the way that you can hear him losing control over himself, his senses to overwhelmed with the pleasure of his rising orgasm.

Mark swears again, trying to pull you back down on him when you quickly move off. You sink your body down between his knees, resting a relaxing hand to massage his thigh as you lower your head and do your best to swallow his cock down to the base.

A guttural, beautiful moan leaves Mark, his fingers knotting in your hair as you gag around him. You let him move you with his hands in your hair and his hips rabbiting up to fuck your throat.

His groan as he cums is like music to your ears, half-drowned out by your pulse racing and the wet sounds of your attempts to not choke on him. Mark cums over the back of your tongue and you suck him through his orgasm, feeling him spill stripes of cum that you swallow rather than choke on it, sucking until he goes soft and makes quiet whines and pulls at your hair.

When you sit up and wipe your hand across your mouth and chin, Mark tries to pull you up toward his mouth as if to return the favor of oral sex, but you shake your head.

"What about you, though?" Mark asks, "I want to make you cum too. It's not a good time unless we're both happy at the end. Come here. At least let me kiss you again."

So you lift yourself up, crawling over him so you're basically lying on his chest, and you kiss him again. Slowly, savory kisses and his wandering touches that soon have you grinding down on him, feeling too empty and with the burning desire to cum, and Mark fulfills that desire, filling you with his fingers to grind down on.

You break the kiss when you cum, dropping your forehead to Mark's shoulder as you pant and sigh while his fingers push you over the edge, sending you freefalling through an orgasm. Your heart races, and you wonder if he can feel the pounding through your chest echoing into his own.

Mark draws his fingers out, wiping them through the sticky mess to lube them up just a little extra, and starts fingering you again until your fingers and toes are curling, and you're trying to hide your moans.

"You're so cute," Mark tells you, kissing your hair when the second orgasm rocks through you.

You answer him with a soft grunt, reaching down to push his hand away from between your legs. You feel good. Buzzy and light, temporarily able to ignore the fact that you just came twice with the best friend of your brother on your sofa. You just want to soak in the feeling, but you know you can't stay like this. It's been a while, and you don't know how long your family will be out. You can't still be like this when they get back, and Mark probably shouldn't be here either.

You kiss Mark's neck, just a parting kind of kiss, before you sit up.

"How's your back feel now?" You tease, running a hand through your hair and tugging your shirt back down over your panties.

"Feel like you should help me home." Mark rubs your thigh, tugging on the hem of your shirt. "Be a good friend, maybe tuck me into bed."

You laugh and lean in to kiss him again. "I can do that."

Requests are now closed! Thank you to everyone who sent these in, I’m just finishing the last drabble requests in my inbox!

[fivelakesinwriting]

Idk if you've done this before if you have I'm sorry but drew or rafe spanking you for the first time and you both liking it and you both find a new kink your into

Listen.... I'll do it one hundred times. I'm weak for this man.

Author's Notes: I chose Rafe! For some reason I feel like I don't have enough about him - the good stuff? So hereee we go! If this was your request I hope you love it. Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! xoxo

Warnings: Swearing, Sexual references - sexual innuendos, Smut *(spanking, choking, rougher sex? unprotected sex - please be safe out there, your choice how!)

Requested? YES! Requests for OBX are OPEN!

*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo

Rafe stumbled up the stairs towards his bedroom with the girl in his arms. She placed kiss after kiss down his neck and he found it incredibly distracting to keep his focus as he reached for his bedroom door.

"Stop." Rafe demanded breathlessly as he pressed the girl against his door, twisting the gold knob to open it and then carried her inside his room.

"I thought you liked it." She replied as she ran her fingers up into his hair then pressed another kiss to his jawline.

"I can't focus when you do shit like that." Rafe grumbled as he dropped her onto his bed, but held her thighs around his waist. He loved how warm she was around him and he couldn't wait to sink deeper into that feeling.

Rafe knelt on the bed with his girlfriend wrapped around him, her hands reaching for the buttons of his shirt as he pushed her pretty sundress around her hips. He thumbed at the satin material of her panties and bent down to kiss her lips.

"Take this off." She whined as she pulled on the last button of his shirt and reached for the collar.

"So fucking bratty tonight. Don't wreck my collar, shit's expensive." Rafe growled against her pout as he reached up to grab her wrists then pin them against his mattress.

"Take your shirt off and I won't wreck it." She replied as she writhed beneath him, her ankles locking at the small of his back to pull him closer.

Rafe chuckled while his girlfriend struggled beneath his strength. He licked his lips as he watched her chest rise and fall with frustrated breath as she gave one more tug to free her wrists from his grasp then gave up.

"Good girl. Now, turn the fuck over." Rafe grinned as he released her wrists and shrugged out of his shirt.

He felt a dull ache in his heart when she unwrapped her legs from around him and turned over, but his nerve endings were on fire again when she turned back around and pressed her backside into his groin.

"Rafe, c'mon!" She whined as she wiggled her backside against him, looking back at him over her shoulder.

"Don't rush me!" Rafe barked as he laid a firm smack on her backside, his palm connecting perfectly with her smooth skin.

He heard his girlfriend audibly gasp when their skin connected, and his stomach fell to his feet. He was certain he had crossed a line. Sure, he gave her the playful smack now and then when he walked by her, a little pat to make her wiggle and whine his name, but he had never actually spanked his girlfriend before.

"Do it again, Rafe. Please." She whispered as her back arched and she rubbed her backside against him.

"You like that?" Rafe growled as he pulled his palm back and placed another firm smack on her other cheek.

"Yes, Rafe." She breathed out while her hands stretched out in front of her, her chest dropped down to the mattress as her backside stayed in the air for all of his attention.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Rafe groaned as he hooked his fingers in the straps of her panties and tugged them over the swell of her backside to her knees. He fell to his hands above her, his chest pressed against her back while he pressed a hot kiss to the side of her face.

"I don't know." She whined as her hips rolled back against him for his attention, her fingertips pulling at his sheets. She turned to face to try and kiss his lips, but as soon as she felt his breath of her face, he was upright on his knees and his warmth against her back long gone.

"Don't have to be embarrassed, sweetheart. Anything else you wanna tell me?" Rafe mumbled as his hands kneaded as her backside, calloused fingertips brushing over her soft skin.

"I love you, Rafe." She whimpered as she pressed her cheek to the mattress and looked back at him, eyes desperate.

"I know you do, sweetheart. But that's not what I asked." Rafe breathed while he removed his hands from his girlfriend to undo his belt and pants.

"I just really like when you put your hands on me." She whimpered as she shifted back on her knees so her backside was pressed to him completely, hot skin against hot skin.

"Yeah? Like this?" Rafe growled as he reached his hand forward, wrapping it around her throat to pull her upright on her knees. Her back was pressed against his chest as she rubbed her backside against his erection, silently begging him for anything else.

"Yes, Rafe." She hissed while she reached a hand back to tug at his hair, while the other gripped at his wrist while his fingers flexed gently on her throat.

"Ready for me?" Rafe breathed out against the side of her face, his free hand behind them as he lined himself up with her entrance.

"Please, baby." She sobbed out while she rested her back on his shoulder, her nails pulling down his forearm as he teased them both while his tip rubbed through her wet folds.

"Good girl." Rafe moaned from deep in his chest as he guided himself inside her, settling inside her tight warmth while he flexed his grip on her throat just a little.

"Rafe, I can't...put me down." She panted as her thighs shook while she held her weight as Rafe stilled inside of her.

He pressed a few kisses down her neck, releasing his hand from her throat to place both hands on her hips and knocked her back down to her hands and knees in front him.

"Too much for you, sweetheart?" Rafe growled as he placed a firm slap on the left side of her ass, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips as she yelped.

"Fuck you, Cameron." She hissed while her fingertips grabbed at the sheets and tugged, her nails almost piercing through the fabric as he thrust into her at a near brutal pace.

"Thought you wanted it." Rafe grunted as he pulled out to the tip then thrust back inside of her, sending her into the mattress as he laid his chest on her back. He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck as he reached his right hand forward to grab at her throat again, pulling her cheek off the bed.

"I dooooo." She moaned as she gripped at the sheets while he flexed his fingers on her pulse point with his right hand, his left hand smoothing over the raised skin on her backside.

"You like it?" Rafe inquired while he placed a harsh smack on either side of her ass then squeezed her flesh.

"Yes, yes. Rafe, I'm gonna - "

"You fucking better." Rafe growled with a gentle squeeze to her throat, never restricting his love's air. He grabbed hold of her hip with his free hand and gripped tightly as he chased after both of their orgasms, his body curled over hers.

"Rafe!" She cried out as her body shook with her orgasm, her innermost walls clenching around him. If the music of the party hadn't been so loud, the laughter of the kids downstairs echoing throughout the halls of Tannyhill then everyone in the house certainly would have heard her.

They probably did anyways.

Rafe released his hold on his girlfriend's throat and grabbed at her hips with both hands instead, his own hips rabid as he followed his waves of pleasure towards his orgasm. He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck then sat upright with a roar to the ceiling as he came inside of her, a bruising grip on her on flesh.

Rafe pulled out of his love then collapsed on the bed beside her, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her against him.

"I love you, too." He breathed against the back of her neck as he held her close against him.

"What?" She whispered as her hands covered his on her stomach, her head rested back on his shoulder to try and see his handsome face.

"Before, you said you loved me. I didn't say it back. I love you, sweetheart." Rafe mumbled against the soft, sweaty skin of her neck while he gently ran his fingertips over the raised flesh of her backside.

"I know you do, baby." She replied as she reached back to run her fingertips through his hair, damp with sweat.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" Rafe questioned as his soft kisses made their way from the back of her neck to the top of her shoulder.

"No, Rafe. Not in anyway I didn't like." She smiled as she rolled her neck to the side to encourage his affection along the side of her neck.

"Good. Now I know I can get you over my knee when you're really bratty." Rafe smirked as he licked up the side of her neck, giving her slightly sore backside a little squeeze.

"Rafe!"

Hotties:

@starkey-babie @barrysjumpsuit @sodasback @fashion-fasting @plutooryectors @babeyglo @beauvibaby @pogueslandia @soph0864 @rottenstyx @whcclxr

*tag list is open, please let me know if I forgot you or you would like to be added/removed from particular posts. I've removed the people that don't pre-populate :(

Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! Thank you so much xoxo

Requests for OBX ARE OPEN!