#thighs of betrayal

[navybrat817]

I would give Bucky anything he wanted if he let me bite his thigh. Just once. A nibble.

Can you imagine making a game out of it, nonnie? You just let it slip one day how amazing his thighs are and how you want to bite one. Or both.

"Okay. What'll you give me?"

"...What?"

"If I let you bite my thigh, what'll you give me in return? Do I get to bite one of yours?"

"...I-"

"And what'll I get if I let you ride one? 'Cause I doubt you want me humping your leg, but I bet you'd love it if I fucked your thighs and made you beg for me to really fuck you."

...I'm sorry. Nothing to see here. Go about your business!

Love and thanks! ❤️

[sjsmith56]

Motivation

Summary: One shot. An intervention between a woman and her ex-boyfriend turns into a meet cute for Bucky. After agreeing to see each other again, he is dismayed when he finds out she’s been kidnapped.

Length: 4.2K

Characters: Bucky Barnes, named but not described OFC, unnamed kidnappers, several Avengers.

Warnings: Some misogyny from ex-boyfriend, some violence causing injury.

Author’s notes: Avengers AU. Takes place after Bucky has been treated by Wakanda. Thanos never happened, Bucky and Tony made their peace and he was invited to join the Avengers. Despite the kidnapping this is a bit of a fluffy piece.

☕️ 🏚️ 🦾

“Don’t you walk away from me!”

The man ran after the woman, grabbing her by the elbow and yanking her to face him. She struggled to pull her arm out of his hand, but he squeezed her arm right at the elbow in such a way that it hurt to pull on it.

“Let go,” she demanded. “We’re done and I have nothing more to say to you.”

“No, we’re not done,” he answered. “You just don’t get to say we’re over.”

“Is there a problem here?”

They both turned to look at the tall dark-haired man. His frown was enough for the man to loosen his hold on the woman, allowing her to pull away from him. Whoever this man was didn’t matter, but his intervention was enough for her to make her point once more.

“The problem is that this guy is a total asshole,” she said. “He cheated on me several times and I finally told him we were done. Apparently, he thinks he deserves a second chance.”

“She meant nothing,” explained the man.

“Which she?” The woman glared at him. “There were more than one.”

“None of them,” he smirked.

The dark-haired man stepped in between them. “I think the lady has spoken.”

The other man sneered. “She’s no lady. She’s a fucking bitch.��

“You shouldn’t have said that,” glowered the taller man.

He grasped the man with his left hand, making him wince in the iron-strong grip. Then he leaned towards him and whispered something in his ear, that made the man’s eyes widen and his face appeared startled. Releasing him, the dark-haired man stepped back and glared at the other, as if waiting for him to do something.

“I’m sorry I called you that,” her ex-boyfriend mumbled. “I, uh, won’t bother you anymore.”

Turning around he walked away, holding the arm that had been released. He never looked back. The stranger turned to the woman, noticing she was rubbing her elbow.

“Are you hurt?”

She looked at it and shook her head. “No, not really. Thank you.”

He smiled, and the way it lit up his face made her feel warm inside. “No problem. I don’t like bullies.” With a nod, he resumed his path, then suddenly turned back towards her. “Are you free at the moment? Maybe we can have a coffee and take a few moments to enjoy each other’s company.”

It was her turn to smile, and she joined him. “I’d like that. I’m Grace.”

“Bucky.”

A block away was a coffee shop. Bucky opened the door for her, then waited in line until she made her choice, pulling his bank card out to pay. When Grace protested, he wouldn’t take no for an answer, watching her with an amused smile on his face until she gave up. Sitting at a corner table, she pretended to be angry at him.

“I asked you for coffee, so I should pay,” said Bucky. “It’s only right.”

“But I don’t know you,” she answered, sitting across from him.

“True, but they know me here.” He looked up as the barista brought their coffees. “Tim, can you tell Grace here that I’m a good guy?”

“Never saw you before in my life,” grinned the man, then he relented. “Bucky is a man of honour.” He tilted his head as if realizing something. “She doesn’t recognize you. This is Bucky Barnes, one of the Avengers. He really is a good guy.”

With a smile, Bucky returned his attention to Grace, finding her staring at him in a combination of embarrassment and dismay.

“You must think I’m an idiot,” she said. “I thought you looked familiar but like maybe I saw you on the train a few times, or something.”

“I don’t mind. It’s kind of nice to know that you didn’t run away from me when you found out. I’ve had that happen.”

“Seriously?” He nodded, then sipped his coffee. “That would be rude.”

He smiled again and she found herself appreciating the crinkling at the edges of his eyes. He was so much more handsome in person than he appeared on TV or in the newspapers. A sound outside distracted him for a moment, and she watched as he narrowed his eyes at a pair of men yelling at each other. The one man flipped the bird at the other before stalking away. Satisfied that he didn’t need to intervene Bucky turned his attention back to her.

“Sorry, enhanced hearing means I could hear everything that happened. If they came to blows I would have stepped in.”

“You’re that type of guy, aren’t you?” she asked, then seeing the puzzled expression on his face clarified. “I mean, you’re a peacemaker.” Bucky shrugged. “Yes, you are. I know about your past and everything but that wasn’t you. The guy that chased Jeff away and watched to make sure two strangers didn’t start fighting on the street, that’s you … a peacemaker.”

“I guess.” He sipped his coffee again and was quiet. “Makes me sound like a guy that can’t mind his own business.” He shrugged again. “I do watch people but I’m not a voyeur.” Her smile made him stop. “I’m digging myself a bigger hole, aren’t I?”

With a grin, she nodded, then drank from her cup. “On behalf of those who needed a peacemaker at some point in their lives, I thank you for your service.”

They both laughed, then talked of many things, not noticing how the outside light changed from late afternoon to early evening, until Tim appeared at their table.

“Are you going to order more coffee or a sandwich or something? We’re getting ready to close up.”

Bucky looked at his watch and gasped. They had been there for over three hours. He looked at Grace who shook her head.

“No, I guess we’re done. Sorry, Tim, we lost track of time.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

He took their mugs and Bucky stood up, pulling Grace’s chair out, then opened the door for her as they stepped outside into the humid evening. Running his gloved hand through his hair he gazed down at her, then smiled when she took his hand and tugged him in one direction. He switched sides when he noticed she was on the outside of the sidewalk, explaining a gentleman should always be closer to the traffic than the lady. When they got to the subway stop, she stopped and looked at the sign.

“This is where I have to catch my train.”

“Yeah, I gathered.” Bucky gazed at her. “May I see you again?”

“I’d like that. Do you have your phone?”

He unlocked it, handed it to her, and watched as she entered her phone number in it, then pressed dial before handing it back. She pulled her ringing phone out of her purse, answered it, then saved his number under the name Peacemaker, making him smile. Someone bumped into them, and Bucky pulled her aside, then placed his hand on her upper arm, lowered his lips to hers and kissed her. It was definitely nice; in fact, it was more than nice.

As Grace descended down the stairs to the darkness of the underground subway system, she allowed herself the luxury of thinking what it would be like to see Bucky Barnes on a regular basis. Placing her transit pass on the sensor she went through the gate and waited on the platform for her train. There were no seats, so she resigned herself to standing. As the train accelerated out of the station, she pulled her phone out and checked her emails and messages. She didn’t notice the two men at opposite ends of the train car who watched her.

Bucky took his time as he walked back towards Avengers Tower, feeling pretty mellow after spending the last few hours getting lost in conversation with Grace. She was nice, very nice, and their meeting, even though it started out because of his tendency to intervene in disputes, certainly evolved into what some of his fellow Avengers would call a “meet cute.” He shook his head with amusement as he walked into the Tower, waving at the security guards on the main floor. Inside the elevator he looked out over the city as the car sped its way up to the residential floors. When the doors opened, he was met with a little reception committee.

“Who is she?” Natasha was certainly blunt with her question.

“Who is who?” He didn’t have to answer if he didn’t want to play her game.

“The girl who kept you in a coffee shop for three hours,” replied Sam, holding his phone up with a picture of Bucky and Grace on someone’s social media post.

“I just met her,” he answered, already irritated at them. “What, you didn’t think I could meet someone without help? I intervened when her ex-boyfriend wouldn’t leave her alone. We went for coffee, and we had a good time.”

“Just like the old days,” said Steve, who grinned at his friend. “Leave him alone. You are seeing her again, right?”

“Yes, I am. I have her number and everything.” His phone beeped and he pulled it out of his pocket. “In fact, that’s probably a message from her.”

Opening the message, he began to read, then his face became dark, then outright angry.

“What is it?” Steve asked, knowing this was serious.

Bucky handed him the phone. There was a picture of Grace tied up in a chair, looking terrified.

Soldat, if you wish to see your girlfriend again you will come alone to Fort Tilden in Queens. No cars. Take the 2 train to Flatbush Avenue-Brooklyn College; then transfer to the Q35 bus and get off at the first stop after crossing the Gil Hodges Bridge. Leave your phone behind. We have people watching you so we will know if you try to bring help.

“Looks like someone else was watching,” said Steve. “What’s your play?”

“Do as they say,” replied Bucky. “She’s an innocent, Steve. If they hurt her ….”

“They won’t. We can track you through your arm, but we’ll stay here. That way, if they ask you, it will be the truth. Weapons?”

“Knives,” said Bucky. “I have some that don’t show up on a metal scanner.” He shrugged. “For times when I need to get past metal detectors.”

After texting back that he would comply Bucky left his phone with Steve, then changed into something more suitable for a fight. Heading out into the evening he took the 2 train, getting off where he was told, then transferred to the Q35 bus. Along the way he studied his surroundings, easily picking out the people observing him. It was dark when the bus crossed the Gil Hodges Bridge, and he pulled the cord to get off. Following the signs directing him to Fort Tilden he stayed on the service roads, remembering from his own youth that the grounds around it were covered in poison ivy. The thought that Grace may have been forced to walk through that made him angry for a moment, then he forced himself to stay on task. As he approached the graffiti covered casemate an armed man, visible in the moonlight, appeared at the top, pointing the gun at him.

“Keep going towards the opening,” he said. “You’ll be directed further.”

With a deep breath Bucky stepped under the large semi-circular overhang into the tunnel below. It was pitch black inside, but he could hear the whine of night vision goggles, indicating he wasn’t alone. He stopped and waited.

“Kneel,” said a voice behind him, as he heard another electrical charge, that of a stun baton, start up in front of him.

Doing as he was told, he waited as someone pulled his arms together behind him and clasped a large metal restraint on. The slight beep of a portable metal detector indicated they were checking him for weapons, and he felt the metal knives in his jacket and leg holster being slid out. The detector gave no indication of the knives he had hidden in his boots.

“Stand. Walk.”

He got himself back up and began to walk, feeling the poke of a weapon in his back. They came out of the tunnel and turned on the path towards a building, dimly lit inside. Pushed through a door, he noticed the tearful eyes of Grace, sitting tied up in a chair, and smiled at her, trying to convey that she would be okay. She couldn’t verbally respond as she was gagged but she nodded her head slightly. Bucky looked at the masked man who stood near her.

“Let her go,” he said. “She has nothing to do with any of this.”

“I don’t think so,” replied the man. “Who knew something so simple like a damsel in distress would bring the Soldat to heel. I think we’ll keep her to keep you in line.”

“That’s a bad decision and you know it.” Bucky focused his stare on the man. “The moment your back is turned I’ll take you down. You know I can hurt all of you without breaking a sweat, the four that watched me on the way here, the one on top, the two in tunnel and the three you have in the rafters. I’m sure you have half a dozen more but it’s no big deal for me to deal with them.”

“Even you aren’t fast enough to keep us from hurting the girl,” smirked the man, raising a hand. A laser guided pointer settled on Grace’s shoulder. “I’ll shoot her everywhere that hurts without killing her until you comply, Soldat.”

“I’m not him anymore. I’m James “Bucky” Barnes and nothing you do will bring the Soldier back.”

“We’ll see. Draco.”

A big man descended down the stairs of the building, pulling his jacket off as he did. Then he walked towards Grace. He said something to her in a language that Bucky obviously understood because he launched himself at the big man, knocking him over onto his back then straddled him with his legs, trapping the man’s arms with his thighs in a grip like a vice. Even with Bucky’s arms restrained behind him the big man never had a chance to get up as the super soldier used his forehead as a battering ram against the man’s face until the masked man fired a handgun into the air to stop Bucky.

“I’ve proved my point,” he said, calmly. “The Soldat is still there, just waiting for the right motivation to appear.” He waved to the other two of his men. “Get off of Draco and stand where you were.”

The other two men came down the stairs, their guns slung over their shoulders. They grabbed the injured Draco under his arms and dragged him away to the side, one of them tending to him as the other stood with his gun at the ready. Bucky waited patiently, then he heard the sound he had been expecting, a quinjet in stealth mode. It was still some distance away, so he spoke to drown out the sound as it came closer.

“So, Draco spoke Romanian,” he stated. “Last I heard HYDRA didn’t have any cells there.”

“Your intelligence gathering is flawed,” replied the masked man. “We have cells in many places. He’s not a believer, just a hired gun, although I think his best days are behind him. You, on the other hand, are still in top form.”

“I’ve been spending a lot of time destroying HYDRA cells in many places,” answered Bucky. “Their best days are also behind them. Now, they’re a sad bunch of losers who think they’re so smart about avoiding detection. Really, they just aren’t that important in the state of things. They usually manage to draw attention on themselves, and we let local law enforcement deal with them.”

“Silence!” The masked man was angry. “I was high up in my organization! I went on many missions of importance while managing to avoid capture. I have you, don’t I?”

Bucky smirked. “Yeah, you have me. Had to lure me here, and let poor Draco get the crap beaten out of him. You’re nothing. I bet you were a porter, or perhaps an IT technician. You guys think nothing moves without you.”

This time the masked man pointed his gun directly at Grace’s chest, so Bucky stopped talking but he heard some whispered words in his ear, and knew he wasn’t alone.

“Sergeant Barnes, as soon as I break you out of the restraints you see to the young lady. We’ll take care of the rest.”

He acknowledged Vision’s whisper with a slight nod of his head then all hell broke lose as the metal restraining his arms fell onto the dirty floor of the abandoned building and a small army dropped from the rafters to deal with the others. Sheltering Grace with his body, Bucky held her tightly. Within moments, it was over, and he pulled the gag out of her mouth, and used one of the knives out of his boot to cut through the ropes that held her to the chair.

“It’s alright, I’ve got you,” he said, as he checked her over for any injuries.

She looked at him in surprise then began to cry and he kissed her on the forehead before holding her close again. Standing up, he swept her into his arms and stood with his head bent close to her as the other Avengers approached, all of them looking at Grace with concern. Slowly, she calmed down then lifted her head from where it was pressed into Bucky’s chest.

“You okay, now? I’m going to put you down. I think my friends want to meet you.”

She sniffed then nodded but held tightly onto Bucky as he lowered her until she had her footing. Then he kept an arm around her as she peered at the kidnappers who were all unmasked and sitting with their hands behind their heads.

“We got them all, including the ones who were watching you on the train and bus,” said Steve, handing Bucky some wet wipes to clean the blood off of his face. “Vision made sure they were taken care of first, then Wanda took care of the lookouts. Medics are on their way to deal with the Draco fellow. What did he say that got you riled up?”

Bucky shook his head. It had been vile and disgusting and he truly didn’t want to repeat it in front of Grace.”

“Everyone, this is Grace. I don’t even know your last name, yet.”

“Morrison,” she murmured. “You all came to rescue me?”

“Yeah. Bucky had point like he always does, but we weren’t far behind,” replied Steve. “Did they hurt you, Miss Morrison? Sam? Maybe you can give her a quick look?”

Sam looked at Bucky first, who nodded, and he folded his wings. “I was a para-rescue in the Air Force,” he explained to Grace. “Kind of an advanced paramedic. Let me just quickly check you out.”

He offered her his hand and took her over to where the lighting was better, checking her eyes, and asking her questions. Soon, he had her smiling, then he looked back at the others and gave them a thumbs-up. Bucky and Steve went over to the masked man whose mask was now off. He looked at them defiantly from where he sat on the floor and Bucky kneeled down to stare at him, then shook his head in disgust.

“You were an assistant custodian,” he said. “Weren’t even allowed anywhere near me whenever I was being processed. Who are the others?”

“Top level operatives.” The man’s tone was boasting.

“A couple of cheap mercenaries, probably desperate for work, and some wanna-be types,” said Natasha, coming over with her phone in her hand. “Found the ad he placed on a dark web job board. The plan was to get you and offer you to the highest bidder. He even had your ad ready to post.” She whistled. “$20 million was his beginning price. I think he was hoping for a big payday.”

She whipped a knife out and kneeled down to his level, placing it dangerously close to his crotch.

“Where’s Grace’s phone?”

He reached for his jacket, then suffered the indignity of Black Widow restraining him as she reached inside, pulling it out, then shaking her head as she showed the others.

“He broke the screen. Naughty boy. I should finish the job just for that.”

“I’ll give her one of the newest Stark phones,” said Tony, stomping inside. “Am I late to the party? Took me a little longer to get here from Washington.”

Natasha laughed then stood up. “Yeah, you’re late. You can spring for dinner though. What do you say everyone? Pizza? Chinese? Greek?”

“All of the above,” smiled Tony. “Least I can do for Bucky’s girlfriend.”

“Just met her Tony,” stated Bucky. “Not sure she’ll want to see me again after being kidnapped right after we said goodbye.”

Grace came over with Sam. “I don’t know, it was kind of exciting see you come in to save me,” she said. “After what Draco said I was really impressed. I had a Romanian grandmother. I understood what he wanted to do to me.”

“Nice,” smiled Sam. “What other languages do you know? How do you call someone an asshole in Romanian?”

Bucky gently took Grace’s arm and pulled her away from Sam, while giving him the finger. He towered over Grace, gently pushing a loose strand of hair over her ear. Suddenly, they were alone as everyone else drifted away to give them some privacy.

“What do you say? Do you want to come back to the Tower for some food? I can drive you back to your place after, or you can stay over. There’s lots of room for overnight guests.”

“I am hungry,” she admitted. “They grabbed me as I came off the subway before I got home. I can decide later whether to go home or stay over.”

“Well, at least the ride back will be nicer than the bus or the train,” he said, leading her outside as a squad from SHIELD arrived to take the kidnappers into custody.

The others were out there and began to file into the quinjet, while Sam and Tony rose into the air to return under their own power. Wide-eyed, Grace went up the ramp with Bucky, sitting where he indicated and watching him with a smile as he made sure she was securely belted in. He sat next to her, and they both had a happy look on their faces when their hands slowly inched closer until they intertwined their fingers.

When they arrived at the Tower, Tony offered Grace some clothing to change into, since hers were quite dirty from being manhandled and tied up in the abandoned building. Bucky showed her to his apartment, leaving while she had a quick shower. The clothes, some SHIELD workout wear, fit reasonably well and she came out to find Bucky waiting in the hallway. Taking her hand, he walked a few feet then stopped and pulled her into an alcove.

“They’re going to tease me because before I was the Winter Soldier I was quite the ladies’ man but since I was deprogrammed, I’ve become less sure about myself. I have a lot of baggage.”

“I’m not the best judge of character,” Grace admitted. “Case in point, Jeff, but I never once felt awkward or uneasy around you. As far as I’m concerned, you’re one of the most incredible men I’ve ever met. The way you took out Draco without even the use of your arms was magnificent.” Her eyes met his, full of admiration. “What he said about finding the right motivation to bring the Winter Soldier out was so wrong. Instead, he brought out someone noble who defended my honour, even though you barely know me. I can see us getting along very well, James “Bucky” Barnes, baggage or no baggage.”

She placed her hand on his cheek and drew him down to her, kissing him ever so softly. Looking at his gloved hand, she took it in hers, then looked up at him, asking permission with her eyes. He nodded and she pulled the glove off, carefully examining the black and gold metal hand attached to the prosthetic arm that replaced the HYDRA version shot off by Tony in Siberia. Deliberately, she put her hand in it, and tugged him a little as they walked to the common area. After staying overnight, Grace only went back to her place once, to gather all of her things and bring them back to the Tower, staying in a guest room. A week later, she moved into Bucky’s apartment and the rest might be a story for another time.

One shots masterlist

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[stuckytoyoulikeglue]

I went to see a production of the Nutcracker this evening and I now have an overwhelming urge to obtain a nutcracker of my own.

Only my nutcracker's uniform would be all black, with a lot of unnecessary straps... And one of his arms would be made out of metal... And rather than cracking nuts with his teeth, he would obviously do it with his thighs...

And I'm really quite upset that this is not a real thing that I can have.

[jesevans]

Is that what he calls them?

[talisthighs]

Our beautiful beautiful ruler of Jayvik nation

[sarahowritesostucky]

I have no problem with things like that thrown in for the male gaze, but I'm all about equality, so let's get the female-gaze equivalent!! THIS is the content I want to see in Thunderbolts. Bucky choking some people with them thar' thighs of betrayal™️. Come on Marvel, you owe us!

Honestly can it all just begin and end with him!!!

[nevermorefilth]

Edging or multiple rounds? Length or girth? Thighs or arms? Condom or bareback?

Bet!

1. Edging (with a side of overstim and a large dose of praise kink on ice, thanks )

2. Girth. Length is great and I have had good times with length, but, to me, girth hits all the right spots. Always.

3. Thighs. I have a thing about thighs. Hands and forearms are....yus, but if I have to spread my legs wider then is comfortable to straddle you cause them thighs is thick? Unf...

4. BAREBACK. Get that prophylactic sheath away from me. Not only am I allergic to latex, but it's not nearly as satisfying or intense for me if there's a barrier. Besides....🥺🥺🥵🥵

Thank you for the asks, Anon!!

[badcountryofficial]

1. RAINBOW TROUT R IN THE SALMON FAMILY?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

2. Guys why do I want a tattoo of a rainbow trout and how hard would it go be honest

[doerot]

I've been seriously considering laser lately, well honestly for years now, but I'm stuck in a loop of will this improve my quality of life, or am I just submitting to beauty standards ?

[navybrat817]

He's training for you, babe https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMrNFgQ7G/

I would love to be a witness to this training, sweet nonnie. 🫠

Even better, I'd love to be in his lap while he's training. Maybe rest back with my hands on his thighs while I try to be good and not wiggle my hips. That may not be possible with the grunts he lets out and heavy breathing, but I'd encourage him to keep going.

Maybe wear a little cheerleader uniform just for him. Ride his thighs. Ride his abs. Whatever he wants. No panties-

Love and thanks! ❤️

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Bisexual Best Friend

Male Yandere x Fem Reader He just wants what's best for you. If he has to tell a few white lies now and again, then so be it.

When you first saw him, he had his tongue down your boyfriend's throat.

It sure as hell would not have been the start of a friendship, except...

He was the one who ran after you when you stormed out of the club, mascara and eyeshadow running in silvery streaks down your cheeks.

He was the one who hugged you and apologised and said your boyfriend was a piece of shit for doing that to you.

He was the one who got you home safe, cleaned off your makeup and left aspirin on your bedside table.

In your half haze of alcohol and tears, you clung to him and nuzzled into his neck and told him you were so grateful, that he was such a nice guy.

It wouldn't have been the start to a friendship and maybe it shouldn't have been. But you called him the next morning.

You apologised for being such a mess, stuttering just a little at the deep gruffness of his morning voice. He laughed and told you not to worry about, that you should've seen what a fool he made of himself when his boyfriend cheated.

You weren't sure how, but a phone call turned into lunch together. Both of you just a little tipsy from bottomless mimosas, his arm tossed across the back of your chair as he sketched out the horror of his last situationship.

"So you're gay?"

You should have noticed it then - the way he narrowed his eyes just a little, the way he let his fingers graze your bare shoulder, the way he seemed to take just a second too long to answer.

"Yeah. I'm into guys."

That was the first lie he told you. Not entirely untrue. He was into guys.

He was just into girls too. And he was especially into you.

He could have been honest with you, he could have told the truth. But you were still reeling from your boyfriend's betrayal, too guarded and hurt to let another man into you life.

And he so desperately wanted to be a part of your life.

The next time you asked him to hang out, you were so at ease. You hugged him when you saw him, your tits squished against his chest. You held his hand and dragged him along behind you. You fell asleep with your head on his shoulder.

He smoothed your hair away from your face and any idea of telling the truth crumbled.

He told himself he just wanted to be your friend. Lord knows you needed one after such a nasty break up. But anyone who looked at you together could tell friendship was the last thing on his mind.

He took you to watch his favourite band performing live and hoisted you up on his shoulder for the encore, his hands inching further and further up your thighs.

He took you to his favourite club and bought you drink after drink until you danced with him, your arms thrown back around his neck and your ass grinding into his crotch. It was only the pulsing neon lights that kept you from seeing his hard on.

He invited you over for a movie night and pretended to lose the AC remote, just so he could share a blanket with you and keep his arm around your waist.

And the longer it went on, the worse it got. You were cute and clever and funny. You could yap together for hours about fashion and music and video games. You brought him little presents every time you came over - small packets of his favourite sweets, a new flavour of ice cream, his go-to Starbucks order.

Could you blame him for wanting you?

He started calling you his wifey, even in front of his friends. Would crack jokes about getting married if either of you couldn't find a guy by next year. And you went along with it. Ran your hands up his chest and fluttered your eyelashes at him and called him your strong, handsome fiancé - oblivious to the way it made his heart race.

When he walked in on you changing, he kept his face deadpan and told you red was definitely not your colour, even as you scrambled to cover up and spluttered at him to get out.

"Why? You aren't exactly my type babe."

Another lie. Not even remotely true this time.

And soon you got used to him walking in on you. Started asking him for fashion advice while you were in just your underwear and heels. Started asking him to tie your bikini tops and unzip your dresses. You didn't notice him always slipping away afterwards, one hand shoved deep in his pocket. You didn't notice the way his hair was always slightly messed up when he got back, his cheeks just a little flushed.

And if there were ever any warning bells - any subconscious instincts that told you he touched you too much, hugged you for too long - they were drowned out by his parade of boyfriends and flings. Why would he be into you when he could be dating a ripped surfer or hooking up with his personal trainer?

You never realised you were the reason his relationships were always so short lived. He couldn't fall for any of them the way he fell for you. They were all just quick fucks to get the frustration out of his system.

He could have continued just like that - fucking a new guy every weekend and getting brunch with you right after.

But then you went and met someone.

He froze when you told him, his smile a rictus, hand clenched so tight around his wine glass that he was lucky it didn't shatter.

He gritted his teeth and managed to choke out a congratulations. You beamed at him, flushed pretty with young love. You squeezed his hand and said it was only a matter of time before he found his love too.

He had to excuse himself after that. Had to splash cold water on his face and fight down the urge to scream. God, why was he so fucking stupid? He should have made a move on you ages ago, back when you first met. If you rejected him then, at least it wouldn't hurt as bad as it did now.

He somehow managed to make his way back to the table and smile at you like you hadn't just clawed his insides to shreds.

"So when can I meet the lucky guy?"

When you got up to wash your hands he slipped your phone out of your bag. He scrolled through your gallery, over analysing every pic of your new boyfriend. Cute, but you could do so much better. And he wasn't even that much taller than you. God, are you really gonna date this loser?

You kissed him on his cheek when he left and he spent the entire walk home rubbing the spot and thinking up ways to get rid of this new... disruption.

Later that afternoon you called him up and asked if he'd like to come to a bar with you and meet your new man. And just like that, the wild ideas in his head clicked into place.

"Sure wifey, I'd love to come."

He showed up late and spilled a drink down your dress before you even finished saying hello. And while you rushed off to try and get red wine out of satin, he scanned the bar for your new boyfriend.

And when he finally found the bastard, he turned on all his pretty boy charm. Bought him a drink and slung an arm across the back of his chair and pretended not to hear when he said he had a girlfriend. Managed to get the guy flushed and stuttering even after he claimed to not be into men.

When he pulled your boyfriend into a kiss, the fucker had the nerve to actually kiss him back.

He was careful with his timing - going in for a second kiss as soon as he saw the flash of your dress through the crowd.

He pulled away just as you reached the table and looked up at you with oblivious innocence.

"What's wrong baby? Why do you look so shocked?"

Your boyfriend shoved him off and stood up to grab you, to claim he didn't kiss someone else, the guy just came onto him swear to God. But the damage was already done.

Who would you believe was at fault? Your best friend who didn't even know what your new boyfriend looked like? Or the asshole kissing someone else while you were gone?

You threw your drink in your boyfriend's face and called him a filthy liar. When you grabbed your best friend's arm and dragged him away, he struggled to hide his smile.

He took you back to his apartment and popped open a bottle. Poured you a drink and kissed your forehead and let his hand settle on your lower back.

"Men ain't shit baby. We're all just manipulative assholes deep down."

He let you drown your sorrows in the bottle and then pulled you onto his lap when you were too drunk to object.

"I'm the only man you need in your life, yeah?"

You sniffled, too drunk and hurt and dizzy to notice his hands moving to your bare thighs.

"Yeah."

"C'mon, say it. Say I'm the only man you need."

"You're the only man I need."

His fingers slipped under the hem of your dress and he pressed his lips against your skin, teeth oh so close to your jugular.

"And I'll take care of you. So just sit still and I'll make it all better."

[ghouljams]

Sleeping with Ghost means a lot of octopus cuddling. He lays on his back, sleeping like the dead if he gets and sleep at all, and you curl against his side to cuddle. Your arm slung over his chest and your leg thrown over his thick thigh, trying to find a spot for your other arm and ending up with it wrapped around Ghost's bicep. It doesn't feel very romantic, pretty one sided actually, except for the big warm hand that holds onto your thigh and squeezes the soft skin appreciatively, holding on like a lifeline through every nightmare. You always end up sharing his pillow despite having you own, letting him feel your breath against his neck, an assurance every time he wakes up that you will too.

You've never even thought about getting a bigger bed before but then Ghost starts complaining about back pain and cricks in his neck, and you figure its from your clinging. Except when you finally get the new mattress through the front door the look Ghost gives you is one of utter betrayal. You guess that means you're not the only clingy one.

[dewdropdinosaur]

Kinktober Day 24: Somnophilia

Summary: Silco pushed open the creaking door of his apartment, the familiar scent of damp wood and laundry powder mingling with the faint aroma of your perfume.There you lay, a soft silhouette against the rumpled sheets. Your night gown rode high on your thighs, highlighting your soft and supple body to his vision. The material did little to hide anything from his gaze, you had been waiting his return. It was not lost on him that his lifestyle led to a lack of moments for intimacy, and yet here you were, pliant and pretty all for him. How tempting… Warnings: P in V sex, fingering, somnophilia, reader has a vagina, cum, etc. MNDI, 18+. You’re responsible for your own media consumption.  Kinktober Mention of the Day: @ivyunleashed This story was inspired by their artwork, linked here

Silco pushed open the creaking door of his apartment, the familiar scent of damp wood and laundry powder mingling with the faint aroma of your perfume. The night had been long, filled with whispered deals and the ever-looming shadows of Zaun’s underbelly. He stepped inside, the weight of the world pressing on his shoulders, bi-colored eyes revealing the true depth of his emotions. Always the strong leader, the iron fist that ruled the Undercity, now stood a bare and broken man worked over by the waves of the world. 

Discarding his coat on the rack by the door, the house was clean. You always made sure it was for when he arrived home, nothing to worry over in this place you had crafted into a safe haven. A note stuck to the fridge annoucing leftovers for him to consume was ignored in favor for trudging into the master bedroom a few doors away. Silent as ever, as not to disturb anything you may be doing, Silco was met with a sight that never failed to stir emotions within his hardened heart. 

There you lay, a soft silhouette against the rumpled sheets, bathed in the pale moonlight that streamed through the cracked window. Hair cascaded over the pillow, framing your serene face. For a moment, Silco felt the chaos of his life fade away. You were everything he wasn't: kind, gentle, a soothing balm against the harshness of your surroundings. He truly did not know how he deserved you. 

He moved quietly, not wanting to disturb you. The sight of your sleeping peacefully made his heart swell. In a world filled with betrayal and violence, you was a beacon of warmth, a reminder that there was still a little beauty to be found. When he had met you a few years ago, a florist on the edge of the Piltover/Zaun border, his mind could have never conjured the heavenly scene that lay before him. He could hardly fathom how someone like you could exist amidst the grime and despair of Zaun, yet here you were, a perfect contrast to the life he led. For all his machinations and ruthless ambition, Silco found himself captivated by the quiet strength you brought into his life. He remembered your laughter shared over late-night meals and whispered secrets under the stars—moments that felt like stolen treasures in a world that sought to take everything from him.

Silco sat on the edge of the bed, studying your features. Your brows were slightly furrowed, as if lost in dreams, and a soft smile played on your lips. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, watching as you stirred slightly but didn’t wake. He leaned closer, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

“I’m home, darling.” he murmured, though he knew you couldn’t hear him. But the words felt necessary, a promise he held deep within his heart. Your night gown rode high on your thighs, highlighting your soft and supple body to his vision. The material did little to hide anything from his gaze, you had been waiting his return. Expecting him, ready for him. It was not lost on him that his lifestyle led to a lack of moments for intimacy, and yet here you were, pliant and pretty all for him. 

Taking a calloused hand, he traced the outline of your curves. Admiring how the moonlight accuntuated all your features, casting an etheral glow about the room. You were his angel, there was no doubt. Yet as he sat here thoughts of corrupting your innocence filled his head. You had always expressed the idea of him taking you while sleeping was attractive, the conversation had occured no less than two weeks ago. He remembered it vividly, how shy you looked, the way your eyes glistened with lust. 

“You never have to ask, Sil. My body and heart are all yours, anytime you need me.”

Oh, how sweetly you had asked. How tempting the thought was then and especially now. He shouldn’t. A perveted old man such as him had no business in corrupting your body in this way. But you had given him permission, commanded his desires to unfurl even in the darkness of night. So, it was no issue, when his hands trailed up to cup the fullness of your breasts or when his lips came to kiss up the valley of your thighs; face coming to view your pantiless cunt. The smell alone was divine, you had worked yourself before his arrival. Slick still shone on your clit, pussy open and willing to indulge his every whim and wish. The ease with which two of his long fingers came to enter you was a small surprise but a welcome one. Taking his time to scissor you open and prepare you for his cock, paying special attention to that soft and gummy spot on your front wall that had you moaning in your sleep. 

His ministrations did not wake you but added to the growing wetness between your legs, thighs spreading unconsciouly to allow him room to work. Even in sleep, your body complied, loved his every touch and begged for it. Working his fingers up into you, allowing himself the pleasure to watch how you fluttered around him. Silco swore that there was no prettier a sight than the one in front of him. You shifted, mumbling inchoherently. He paused. He shouldn’t wake you, disturb you from your peaceful slumber. But everything in his body screamed at him to continue, to make you cum and moan on his fingers till pleasure rocked your body so much it awoke in a blissful state. 

Removing his fingers to unbutton his trousers, Silco used the slick that remained on his digits to prepare himself. Adjusting so he lined up with your entrance, he sunk slolwy into you. Inch by inch, letting out a gravely moan at the feeling of your warm and tight cunt. So inviting, practically made for him. You laid still, body adjusting to his length with ease, so used to taking him so well. Beginning to thrust in and out with delibarte motion, Silco soon found himself approaching his orgasm faster than expected. 

Unbeknownst to him, your eyes fluttered open, body finally recognizing the intrustion. Suprise spread across your feature, though your boyfriend’s actions were not unwelcome. Every plunge of his member caused jolts of arousal to shake your body through the core, illiciting a pornographic moan to annouce your awakening. 

“Feel so good my darling, always been so good for me. You like it when I fuck you like this, nice and slow? Use you for my own pleasure?”

You couldn’t help but nod, eyes rolling into the back of your head as your own orgasm rapidly approached. Silco’s thrusts started to become sloppy and heated, eyes closing and hair disheveled from the intensity. Soft grunts left his lips and with one final stroke, he spilled hot ropes of cum into you; spurring you into your own orgasm at the feeling of his hot seed within you. Calming down from your high, you brought you hand to caress his cheek gently. Admiring the way his chest heaved with each breath, how dialted his eyes were. 

“Welcome home, love.”

[lxvvie]

Yours and Simon's relationship is fraught with betrayal.

And it's the little things that make it so.

You're wearing some of Simon's clothes out again? What did he do to deserve this?

You're not wearing Simon's clothes out? Again? What did he actually do to deserve this?

Simon taking his hand off your thigh while he's driving? Oh, wow. Breakup. Blocked. Delete. On the couch he goes.

You taking your hand off Simon just in general? What the actual bloody fuck, where did you two go wrong—

Using Simon's government name instead of one of his many pet names? Oh, that's what we're doing now, sweetheart? He will not tolerate this disrespect from you.

Simon calling someone else "sweetheart"? Wow. Guess who's no longer getting raspberries on their tummy?

You sticking your hand down Simon's boxers when your hands are bloody fuckin' cold? He doesn't deserve to live like this.

Similarly, Simon spooning up against you with his cold ass feet intertwined with yours to keep warm? This wasn't what you planned for your life.

Simon dragging you to the couch with him after he was exiled for the 398447420th time? How could he do this to you?

Yeah, it's the little things, alright.

[cowgirlvi]

mdni. sub-bottom jinx. fem-top reader. strap-on usage. size kink. vaginal sex. squirting. rough sex. filthy.

wc; 2,366

the first time jinx tries to ride your strap, she’s cocky—naively convinced that she’ll be a natural at it. but more than anything, she’s determined to put on a show for you. in her numerous daydreams, she pictures herself bouncing in your lap, playing with her small tits as she grinds down against you, making your head spin with the pace she sets. jinx imagines she would ride your cock so hard that the intense friction against your clit would rival a vibrator.

so when the time actually comes, you’re adjusting the harness on your hips while jinx is lying back in bed, watching you intently in her own state of undress, twirling her blue braids while deep in thought. thinking about what? you weren’t sure.

despite only being in a relationship with jinx for a month now, she has taken your strap before—many times actually—but she’s always laid there while you pleasured her, while you set the tempo, while you took care of her every need like a pampered princess.

and that’s what you called her too; your princess. at first, she liked the nickname—basking in it—feeling high when you’d call her that while fucking your cock deep inside her. until she overheard a woman gossiping with her friends, saying she broke up with her girlfriend because she was too much of a pillow princess. 

jinx’s heart rate skyrocketed. she didn’t want you to leave her because you felt like you were doing all the work in this relationship. and she suspected you already felt that way with the insulting nickname you gave her.

so that’s when she decided, the next time the two of you had sex, she would get on top. she would take the initiative to make both of you feel good. she would be particularly skilled at riding cock.

now, in the present, as you’re situating the harness on your hips, jinx was wondering how to go about this. should she ask sweetly to ride your cock? should she wait until the second round of sex? should she shove you against your bed and take what she wants?

“you ready, princess?” you ask, crawling onto the bed and over jinx’s lithe body. a fire burns in her eyes, determined and angry.

surprising you, jinx shoves your shoulders until you’re splayed on your back. she’s quick to throw one of her legs over your hips, her pussy sitting flush against your strap, soaking it with her juices already. you’ve only been together a month, but jinx has the wettest pussy you’ve ever seen.

your eyes widen at the sight of jinx in your lap. the little minx’s chest is heaving, her eyes are narrowed as if you betrayed her, as if there’s a joke she isn’t in on.

”don’t—don’t call me that,” she says, her voice tight. what was once a term of endearment now feels like an insult, a jab at her character.

her heart pounds in her chest as she stares down at you. her face is tense, her eyes far away, her ears wiggling as if she’s listening to something intently. you know what this is. one of her hallucinations is interrupting, filling her mind with insecurity and anxiety, taunting her in her most vulnerable state. she’s gotten better at hiding it but you know her too well.

”sweetheart, come back to me. what is it?” you ask gently, your hands gently rubbing her plush thighs. she smacks your hands away from her skin. she covers her ears for a moment, shaking her head while her eyes are squeezed shut. “i think we should stop,” you suggest carefully.

her pink eyes snap open, staring at you with betrayal. “i want to ride you,” she declares stubbornly.

”are you sure that’s a good idea?”

”yes—it’s what i want!” she insists. her hands rest on your shoulders as she leans over you, her long nails digging into your skin. “i’m ready.”

“maybe i should finger you some more? make sure you’re stretched enough?” 

“i said i’m ready,” jinx replies and she’s already grabbing your strap, rubbing it against her pussy in long strokes, getting it wet with her slick.

she grinds the strap harder against her dripping core, a harsh moan escaping her pouty lips when it catches against her little clit, but she’s determined; she’s not going to let her girlfriend dismiss her as some lazy, passive fucktoy.

jinx rises up on her knees and holds your strap beneath her, ready to impale herself on the length in its entirety. your cock looks monstrous in comparison to her tiny body.

”go slow,” you tell her and she scoffs at you like you’re crazy, pressing the head against her small opening. the girthy shaft and bulbous head completely dwarf her small folds.

she’s so wet that her pussy makes an obscene squelching noise when the head tries to pop inside her. however, the strap barely breaches her entrance before it falls against your stomach again with a wet plap. her pussy is too small to fit your cock and you’re wondering how you managed to make it fit so many times before.

”i’m not going to fucking break,” jinx says with irritation, her brows furrowed in concentration when she brings the head of your strap to her pussy again. she’s rocking and circling her hips, trying to coax her stubborn body into submission. again, your strap won’t go in. her pussy is fluttering and gripping at nothing, aching to be filled. “shit, it’s too big,” she hisses through gritted teeth. “i can’t . . . it’s— fuck!”

at this point, your strap is so soaked with juices from her cunt that it’s hard to get a grip on the phallus object. you watch, transfixed and more than a little bit concerned, as jinx tries to force the strap inside her hole again.

one of your hands reaches up to palm jinx’s breast, the one with her blue, cloudy tattoos decorating the skin around her nipple. you rub her nipple with your thumb in light strokes. “just relax, babe.” the hard peak of her nipple pebbles beneath your touch and jinx gasps. “let your body open up for me.”

she takes a shuddering breath, her big eyes squeezing shut as she focuses on the sensation of your thumb circling her nipple. slowly, she starts to relax, and at the same time she presses the head against her opening again. this time, the head slips inside her and she makes a noise of triumph.

from this angle—being impaled on your length all by herself—it feels impossibly bigger than it has in the past. despite this, jinx keeps rocking her hips gently, sucking more of your cock inside.

“hnng, fuck!” jinx pants. only half of your strap is inside her at this point and you wonder if that’s all she’ll be able to take.

her stomach and thighs clench with the exertion of holding herself up. you move both your hands to her wide hips, stroking them soothingly where her hipbones protrude. 

she slides down further, only a quarter of your cock left. jinx can only whine and feel herself stretch around your thick strap, she can feel herself clenching obscenely, her inner muscles fluttering around the stocky length. you wish you could feel her powerful contractions around you for real, her wetness, the warmth of her insides.

jinx rests her hands on your chest—squeezing your tits like a stress ball— and it looks like using your chest like a toy really does relieve her of any extra tension in her body.

”oh fuck, oh god— it’s so . . . so fucking big,” she whimpers. her lips are swollen and red from her biting them.

”can’t take it, baby?” you ask breathlessly, rubbing her hips. “your pussy looks fucking ruined.”

jinx shoots you a glare but it’s not as intimidating as it’d usually be, considering that her eyes are hazy with that cockdrunk look she always gets.

stubbornly, she forces the rest of your strap inside her, her ass colliding against your thighs with a slap. and suddenly, jinx freezes in place. she’s trembling, that much is obvious, goosebump erupting all over her skin. she’s never felt so full before, so utterly stuffed and stretched and split open. the head of your strap is nestled deep inside her, kissing her cervix and making her toes curl against your bedsheets. jinx can feel every ridge and vein etched into the silicone; the texture feels deliciously abrasive against her sensitive walls.

jinx attempts to roll her hips once, before she freezes in place again. her nails are digging painfully into your breasts and you’ve never seen such a fucked-out look on her face before.

”mmffuck! aghh—! holy shit, i—i can’t—it’s too much!”

what a sight she is, shaking and trembling and whining on your cock, so sensitive and stuffed full that she can’t even move. her brain is turning to mush and her tongue sticks out dumbly while she pants, her breath coming out in harsh, desperate gasps.

“fuck, baby. you look fucked stupid and i haven’t even done anything yet,” you say in awe. you want to grip onto her small waist and piston your cock inside her, make her more dumb than she already is.

”it’s so—so deep, aghh! so big, i feel so full,” jinx babbles mindlessly, her words tumbling out in a rush of pleasure and disbelief. 

“i’m gonna help you move, sweetheart. gonna make you feel good,” you promise. you feel pussydrunk— high off the view of jinx stretched so wide around your strap. it’s completely obscene and it might be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

you grip onto the plush fat of her hips and slowly lift jinx off your strap. she moans and babbles the entire time, feeling the silicone drag against her walls, until you slam her back down on your cock. her mouth falls open in a silent scream, her eyes roll back in her head, her eyelids fluttering as she struggles to keep them open. her tongue lolls out again stupidly, drool dripping down her chin as she pants and whines, completely out of her mind with pleasure. the sight of her, so fucked out and dazed, sends a dark thrill through you, a primal surge of lust that makes you want to ruin her completely.

you lift her off your strap once more and then allow gravity to pull her down—repeating this over and over again—and you grind up against her when she’s buried to the hilt each time, getting impossibly deeper.

”so sexy, baby—ah fuck, fuck, you hot little bitch.” your strap is pressing just right against your clit, making you squirm and unintentionally thrusting your hips, forcing the strap further inside your girlfriend. you smack her ass hard, the sound echoing throughout your bedroom, and jinx sobs.

you start to thrust harder, faster, gripping jinx’s hips tightly as you piston up into her. the bed creaks and groans beneath the two of you, the headboard slamming against the wall with each brutal drive of your hips.

jinx face-plants into your chest. all she can do is lay against your pillowy breasts and take what you give her. the wet, obscene sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the room, punctuated by jinx’s high, breathy cries. your eyes burn with a feral intensity as you stare at her ass rippling over her shoulder.

”that’s it, princess. take it, take it.” and you rub jinx’s back lovingly and gently, despite the fact that you’re destroying her pussy right now.

you set a brutal, punishing pace, planting your feet against the bed so you can fuck up into her with abandon. the thick head of your strap slams against jinx’s cervix with each savage thrust and the wet, indecent sounds of jinx’s pussy being split open echos throughout the room.

“fuck me, ngh, fuck me, fuck me—ohhh!” the only thing jinx can focus on is the repetitive motion of your cock fucking deep inside her. she feels like a cocksleeve for you to use— she is a cocksleeve.

suddenly, her back arches like a cat, her chest pressed flush against your own as her body goes rigid, stiffening like a bowstring pulled taut before releasing. her pussy spasms and clenches around the thick length invading her body, along with a keening wail as her pussy squirts between your two bodies.

”mmmf—oh, shit—! please, aghhhff!” jinx shrieks as her body shakes and convulses through the force of her climax. she clings to you like a drowning woman, and her juices gush out around your strap with a powerful force, her body humps against yours while she rides out her orgasm— which applies immense pressure to your clit through your strap.

your own orgasm hits you like a freight train, the pleasure white-hot and all-consuming. there’s so much blood pumping in your ears that you can’t even hear the noises you’re making, but you assume they’re nothing short of animalistic. your throat is sore, you think you screamed but you’re not quite sure. the pleasure is so intense that it momentarily short-circuits all your senses. you’ve never come this hard before, never felt an orgasm this earth-shattering, and it makes you question the very fabrics of your reality. 

jinx’s pussy milks the toy for all it’s worth before she calms down and becomes boneless on top of you. all you can hear is static as your own orgasm subsides, your sweaty skin sticking to one another. you pepper kisses along jinx’s face, her neck, her collarbones, while your hearts are pounding in tandem. you murmur words of praise and adoration against her skin—despite your tongue feeling heavy and clumsy in your mouth—and jinx hums in response.

the thick, musky scent of sex hangs heavy in the air, a tangible reminder of the carnal act you’ve just engaged in.

(2/2/25)

[tryagainenthusiast]

happy trail-gate…

summary , bf!jeong jaehyun has stabbed you in the back a million times….by shaving his happy trail :>

notes , this is so silly sorry lolol

you didn’t even notice it when he fell back onto the couch, spreading his legs wide and taking up most of the space, arms stretching out over the pillows. its only until he watches you balance on the edge of the coffee table, teetering on the edge, tiptoeing to try and reach the flickering light bulb thats been annoying you for the past week that he stands up again, wrapping his fingers around your waist to keep you steady. he lets out a small laugh and your brows furrow, scowling at him from above. “you do this then.” your lips press together into a pout, pushing his shoulders gently.

he takes the lightbulb from your hands, a small smile on his lips, arms coming up to unscrew the faulty lightbulb, his shirt riding up to expose a sliver of his midriff that you take a step back just to glance down at.

“what the hell?”

his eyes run down to your frame, your tense shoulders and wide eyes that depict a shock on your face that he has never quite seen before. you could fall down to your knees, face planted against the ground in pure agony. jaehyun almost looks a little worried.

”what’s wrong?”

”what…have you done.” you yelp, hands reaching for the bottom of his shirt, fingers curling around it to pull it up a little more. finally seeing the smooth skin of his lower midriff, a small sob escapes your mouth and jaehyun can’t stop his lips from curling up into a small smile. he doesn’t even try to stop you when your hands pull down at the waistband of his boxers, running a soft fingertip down the line where his happy trail used to be, in all it’s glory, all for you to admire.

gently, he pats the top of your head with a splayed out hand, fingers coming to ruffle strands of your hair. he doesn’t get it, but he’ll comfort you anyway.

you pull your hands out of his pants, stepping off the coffee table and throwing yourself back on the couch, pinching your nose bridge in genuine stress. “who did this to you?” you murmur, looking up at jaehyun, eyes narrowing. jaehyun thinks you are being awfully dramatic, he cant suppress the genuine chuckle that leaves his mouth, bending down to run a hand down your side, trying to ease the situation, “it was for a shoot.”

you let out another wince, squeezing your eyes shut. this might be the worst thing that has happened to you—ever. your boyfriend, unaware of how much this is affecting you, sits beside you, lifting your legs up to rest them on his lap, caressing his hands up and down them with a light touch. “it’ll grow back.” he scoffs. he can’t tell whether you’re being serious…he didn’t know you liked his happy trail this much.

his hands reach out to your waist, pulling your limp, defeated body up into his lap, cupping your cheeks. all he can do is press tender kisses to the corners of your frowning mouth, finding it terribly cute, trying to hide his smile as you whine against his skin, “bring it back…” your words are muffled against him and he hums against your lips, continuing to shower your parted mouth with small pecks.

“give me a couple weeks.” jaehyun chirps, finding his heart a little warmed, in an oddly affectionate way. you glance down, hands reaching to lift his shirt up once more, just to make sure it’s really gone while his hands rub up and down your thighs.

“i’ll make it up to you until then. i promise.” he croons, and the effort you have put into dragging the corners of your lips down is all for nothing. the betrayal you’re feeling dissipating into giddiness as jaehyun’s hands lay you down over the couch cushions, the palms of his hands cupped around your knees, hovering above you with an amused, dimpled smile on his face...