❝there’s no such thing as singular in jungkook’s book of kisses. only plural. ►1870 words // scenario ♡ this is for @cno-inbminor bc we reached our 200th day snapstreaksary (it’s a word i swear) and this is a little overdue but here it is i tried my best and it’s short but i LOVE YOU KAREN
Jungkook was a person who could be satisfied (and happy) with the littlest of things in life or, could find significance in anything he came across with.
One, you (not to be taken literally but hey, he does use the benefit of being taller and you know when you’re shorter you have a better aim at his di-). Two, discounted prices on set meals he wants to eat. Three, finding a dollar lying on the floor and claiming it as his even though he knows damn well it fell from your purse but finders keepers losers weepers. Four, Jimin and Taehyung messing with Hoseok, only got get a beating after and his devil ass is watching from the side the whole time. And last but not least, sleeping until the sun breaks through the window and rakes his ass awake.
He was a heavy sleeper and that, ladies and gentlemen, was not a surprising thing at all. God no. Almost everyone around him had experienced troubles waking him up at least once (thrice) in their lifetime. As quoted from none other than Kim Seokjin and editing from Kim Namjoon: “That boy can sleep until the world burns down and he’ll wake up being alone.” (end scene)
It was all about getting used to, in your opinion. You’d gauge around the time he’d wake up and plan your day on from there. See, if you can’t change the boy’s habit, change the way you work things around. Simple. (unless you’re living with six other guys who gives no shit with your sleeping habits then kudos to you, good luck chap, better luck next life)
With Baekhyun touring in Japan, things quickly went back to
normal for you and Zoe. You woke up and wrestled your daughter into her school
uniform, dropped her off at school and headed to work, picked Zoe up in the
afternoon and took her to one of her many classes. Then it was dinner, bath and
bed – for the both of you. It was just how things were before you introduced
Baekhyun to your daughter … before you’d even met Baekhyun again after years
Heyyyyyyy so that sub!bucky was the shit. Can you write sub!bucky with him being needy and the reader using the vibrating buttplug for orgasm denial throughout the day and he has to act normal (like an off day or something)(but he Can still make noises but he has to continue what he’s doing) or else he won’t get to come and when he does come, the reader does it multiple times and overstimulates him? Sorry for grammar. Thanks!
Triggers: Smut. Plug.
Word Count: 1619
“Just remember the safe word. I’ll be home with groceries. Love you.” The note was signed off with a cute little heart and your initials.
Bucky gulped thickly as he shifted. He’d slid the plug in the night before but wasn’t sure what to expect. You’d taken the remote with you, giving him time to adjust to the feeling at least. He moaned softly as he stood, clutching the nightstand and biting his lip. This would be harder than he anticipated.
He had agreed to the plug after he’d gotten adjusted to the idea of submitting to you. Actually, he’d suggested the plug! He loved the look of surprise on your face before you nodded. You let him pick out one so he could feel more comfortable. You’d gotten the lube and let him go into the bathroom to put it in. Just sliding the toy into him made him hard, but you were both to worn out that kissing each other and teasing one another was enough.
Bucky now dearly wished he’d jerked off before bed so he could have some relief. On top of morning wood, the feeling of the plug jostling inside him made it nearly impossible to think outside of wrapping his hand around him. He shook his head, knowing he had to wait for your command.
A/N: Heh, I know I am like four months late on MM requests. But, I take a lot of time to make sure these fics are good for you guys. This one for Jumin Han (My bae~). They wanted fluffy smut.
Jumin liked watching her sleep, he liked the way her
chest slowly rose and fell. He liked the way her hair became frizzy and flew
everywhere. But, what Jumin liked the most…. Was her pajamas. She was a fan of
shorts and a tank top, exposing the skin he would love to mark, if given the
chance. Jumin wanted everything in his life to be precise, perfect, and timed
well. It’s what made him a fantastic businessman. He didn’t want to rush what
he had with Y/N, he wanted her to be able to understand how much he cared for
her, that he was learning all he could to be the best boyfriend she could ever
Even if that meant forcing himself to be patient. When it
came to Y/N, everything flew out the window. His self-control for one thing, he
loathed how she made his body ache, his heart race, and his head muddled. One
word from her and he was ready to do anything for her. He wanted her. In every
sense of the word. He wanted her to be his. Only his. But, he was content to
wait. Like a lion teasing its prey. So, he waited, watching her sleep.
It’s days before he can fully set his plan in motion. He
is almost guilty, leaving her at home all the time. But, it only strengthens
his resolve, his need to be with her. Jumin waited all day, even going as far
as to ignore her texts. Trying to build up any sort of tension he could for
himself, some form of self-control. He knew that it made him seem like a dick.
He just didn’t care. Even Jaehee had something to say about the matter, but he
brushed her off. Jumin promptly ended his day at 5:00pm, surprising all his
colleagues and headed home. He swung the door to his penthouse open, his breath
catching as he saw her.
Y/N was sprawled out on the couch, a large novel in hand,
and Elizabeth the 3rd curled on her lap. She was engrossed in the
story, not even noticing him until Elizabeth the 3rd meowed,
signaling that Jumin had arrived home.
“Jumin, you’re home early.” She was surprised, her eyes
widening in delight. She gently shifted her weight, getting up from the couch
and walking over to him. She was so much shorter than him and it was endearing.
Y/N wrapped her arms around Jumin, his hand reaching out to stroke her hair.
“Did you see the clothes laid out for you in the
bedroom?” Jumin looked at her sweetly, Nel shook her head.
“I’ve been reading all day; I haven’t been in the
bedroom.” He kissed her forehead and chuckling. She was too cute.
“I am taking you out tonight, let’s go out to eat.” He
suggested, Y/N eyed him suspiciously. He never suggested leaving the penthouse.
Jumin preferred to do everything at home, if Y/N was with him he seemed to be
content. Either way, getting her out of the house for even a few hours would
allow the rest of his plan to be set in motion. “How about a picnic?”
“Okay?” She poised a question, confused. Though, she
would not be opposed to a night out with Jumin, she just assumed there were
ulterior motives. Jumin meant everything to her and she did love him. She
however, knew that he tended to be a little extravagant. Y/N was not someone who
liked to be spoiled, she always preferred to spend for others and expect
nothing in return. Being with Jumin challenged her comfort zone.
“Go get dressed, I’ll meet you out here in ten minutes.”
His voice was smooth like bittersweet chocolate. She nodded and retreated into
the bedroom, a beautiful dress was laid out over the bed, it was ivory in
color, with lace trim around the neck. She slipped it on and pulled her hair
into a ponytail, not sure whether he wanted her to be overly formal. The dress
seemed casual though, especially since he was suggesting a picnic. When she
remerged Jumin gave her a warm smile taking her hands in his.
“You look exquisite,” Jumin murmured, eyes searching
hers. Y/N blushed. They walked out of the penthouse, his hand never leaving
hers. His phone vibrated once, he used his other hand to check, making sure to
obscure the phone from Y/N’s view. His team had gone into the penthouse and
begun the preparations. They journeyed onward, enjoying each other’s company
until nightfall. To which he took her home.
“Jumin, you’re acting strangely.” Y/N stated looking up
at him in the car on the way home. He smiled at her and shook his head.
“I’m behaving quite normally Y/N,” He kissed her forehead
before pulling away. Y/N pursed her lips. Jumin was always overly affectionate
towards her, he was being distant… holding himself back and that concerned her.
When they returned to the penthouse Y/N was shocked at the amount of detail
that went into what was waiting. Roses strewn about the house, candles, and a
bowl of cherries. Which confused her slightly. Cherries were her favorite
fruit. Though, she had no idea the extent to what Jumin had in store for her.
Jumin gave her a coy smile, setting hi jacket down on the armchair beside her
and wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “Do you like it?”
“Jumin, it’s gorgeous.” She breathed leaning back into
his touch. “But, what’s the occasion?” Jumin picked up a cherry from the bowl
and bit the morsel, pulling the stem out and twirling it in his fingers before
discarding it. He grabbed another cherry and offered it to her. Y/N took the
cherry from him.
“I told you, everything would have had to be carefully
“What…” She trailed off confused, before she felt his
grip move to her waist. It clicked in her head then. The sudden realization
that they would both get to have each other. Be with each other. She shivered
in excitement. Jumin pushed her hair to the side nuzzling her neck and placing
a kiss on the skin there. Y/N turned to look at the taller male. A smirk graced
his lips, Y/N ran her fingers over his cheek. He leaned into her touch before
leaning down to kiss her lips softly. His hands were at her hips, lifting her
up as he walked to their bedroom.
kissed her still, trying his best to breathe through his nose and keep an eye
on where he was going. Y/N tasted of cherries and wine, his heart fluttered in
his chest and she pulled away; a gasp leaving her while her hands gripped his shoulders.
Jumin set her down gently on his bed, his hands undoing the knot on his tie.
The look on his face was predatory, though it held a softness to it as well. Y/N
swallowed thickly, watching as he kicked his loafers off and rolled the sleeves
of the navy-blue dress shirt up. Y/N had already taken her shoes off, unsure of
what to do. He seemed appeased just looking at her. She continued to watch as
Jumin removed his tie, the silky material glided off his collar and he tossed
it onto the floor.
“Do you like watching me?” He questioned, a smirk
befalling his features. Y/N nodded slowly and he chuckled at her wide-eyed
expression. She looked so pure, so innocent sitting there, lip caught between
her lip and cheeks tinged red. He reveled in the feeling, that surge of white
hot arousal that moved through his chest and down to his cock. “Will you take
off your clothes for me Y/N?” Jumin poised the question sweetly, even though it
was more of a command and she listened to him. Stripping down to her barest
form for him. Jumin nearly preened at the sight, removing his own clothes after
she did. He kneeled in front of her.
“Jumin…” Her voice was barely above a whisper and his eyes
met hers. A smile graced his face and he placed a hand on her cheek, pulling
her close to kiss her. Y/N grasped at his hair and yanked herself close to him,
tongue tracing over his lips. He slid her up the bed, lips detaching from hers
and moving along her neck and down her chest. She watched with hooded lids as
his lips ghosted down to her cunt. Y/N tipped her head back and let out a sharp
burst of air. Jumin laved at her clit, one hand sliding back up her torso to
twist at a hardened nipple. Y/N cried out hand muffling the sound and Jumin
worked that much harder to get her to come on his tongue. He drove a finger
into her slowly, working her up until she arched her back with a hoarse cry.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Jumin rose from his position,
hand pumping his cock twice before he reached into the bedside drawer for a
condom. Y/N grabbed his hand replacing it with her own and causing him to
pause. Jumin groaned, head falling forward and Y/N pumped his cock fervently,
spreading pre-come all around the head of his cock before pulling away. Jumin
let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in and fumbled with the
condom. Y/N laid back against the satin white sheets of their shared bed and he
nearly came from the sight alone. Jumin crawled between her spread legs,
sliding his cock up her slit, teasing her before sliding inside her.
“Jumin, move… please.” She whimpered, eyes fluttering
close. Only then did he move, rocking slowly inside her and whispering how much
he loved her into her ear. She met his slow thrusts, hands gripping his back as
she begged for him to move faster. He wasn’t going to last. Jumin acquiesced
her request, the room filled with a cacophony of sounds. Jumin’s hips roughly
slapped against her, his left hand held her hip, while his right hand moved to
toy with her clit. She tightened around him, making him cry out loudly. He didn’t
try and hide his moans, hide his pleasure as he spilled into the condom. Jumin
rolled his hips into her still, riding out his orgasm as he determinedly moved
his fingers against her clit. Y/N came with a silent scream, whole body
tensing. Jumin pulled out of her and disposed of the used condom. He brought a
warm washcloth back into the room and ran it over her skin, cleaning her up and
kissing her temple.
“I love you, I made it perfect for you.” Jumin murmured into
her skin as he curled up next to her. Their breathing soothing each other to
CastielXReader, ft. Sam and Dean Winchester
Word Count: 869
Cas-iversary drabble request by @sassyspn67 (okay, I don’t know if it was an
actual request, but it was a great ask and I ran with it and wrote you something) – “Imagine Castiel
saying he loves you without thinking.” Spoiler alert - the cure for hiccups?
Yeah, it’s fluff. All the fluff. And a blue-eyed angel.
Pausing at the kitchen threshold, you reflexively clutched
your abdomen, pressing a palm to the doorframe for support, muscles tensing in
preparation for the involuntary spasm you sensed was about to rack your body.
“Hic!” you squeaked loudly, again unsuccessful at trying to stifle the hiccups
which had plagued you for nearly an hour. Groaning annoyance, you wearily
leaned your forehead against the door.
“Y/N!” Castiel instantly rose from his seat at the table,
swiftly striding to your side to grasp your arm and guide you safely down the
few stairs into the room, “What’s wrong?”
You peered up miserably into his ocean blue eyes, noting the
shades of concern for your well-being churning in their shimmering depths. “I’m
fi-,” lurching forward, you grasped at his coat lapels for balance, balling up
the tan fabric in tight fists, “hic!”
Request: Nah, just something my fingers wanted to type Word Count: 1.4k A/N: I’m so sorry I’ve been away for so long, what’s it been 4? 5 months? I’m a mess, my bad. Here’s something to keep you guys going while I get my shit together. Requests are open, feedback’s appreciated.
She didn’t wake him as she got up to leave, she was used to their little system now. Fuck through the night, grab a quick power nap, leave his quarters before anyone in the Overwatch compound spotted her. Her relationship with Morrison was complicated to say the least. They had started this no strings arrangement years ago and it was definitely fulfilling but, and she knew this sounded so cliché, something was missing. They had begun as teenagers, fucking like rabbits as new recruits, but Jack was a man now, Strike Commander at Overwatch, he had become more passionate, perhaps without even meaning to - and he was definitely much more skilled. She had fallen for him and she couldn’t deny it any longer, the boy from Indiana she was friends with was now her rock, she was sure she couldn’t have gone through the training without him, their long talks on missions, covering each other’s backs on the field. She sighed, they had built such a friendship over the years, she couldn’t be the one to ruin this.
She glanced over her shoulder, admiring those blonde locks that always stuck out in odd directions the morning after. She blushed as she realised that was her fault and hoped he didn’t have to change in front of any of the team today, those claw marks down his back would certainly stir up a fuss. She moved further from the bed, trying to put some distance between them but still trying to remain quiet. This would never last, she had always told herself this, he would drop her in a heartbeat for any other girl around. She was just easy prey, fair game. She came when called and knew what he liked. He would never love her.
Heart heavy, she ditched his shirt from the night before, moving to find her own clothes. She had to get out of here. Get away from him for a bit. She couldn’t sacrifice their friendship just because she caught feelings, it was selfish and not fair on Jack. She found her underwear, slipping on the garments and turning to try to track down her pants and shirt. She spotted her shirt by the edge of the mattress and hurriedly pulled it on, suddenly worried that Jack’s breathing getting lighter was him beginning to wake up. She searched the room for her pants with no luck, sighing, she ran a hand down her face, only to see a hint of material lying up-
No. No. This was not happening. How did her pants get all the way up there? She stared in horror up at the pant leg just poking out from the top of Jack’s closet and she wondered how the hell she was going to reach it. Eyes darting across the room, she locked on to the chair abandoned at his desk. Cringing as she remembered what this chair had endured last night (surprisingly the cheap desk chair had managed to support the both of them) she manoeuvred in front of the heavy oak wardrobe. Her teeth worried at her lip as she eyed the wheels hoping the punishment it had endured last night hadn’t weakened it’s legs, she certainly did not want the thing to move whilst she was precariously balanced upon it.
Realising this was her only chance of not leaving Jack’s room half-naked, she held onto the wooden handle of one of those doors and lifted her foot onto the cushion of the seat, the thing letting out a little puff of air under her sock. Huh, easy enough. Letting go off the door handle she raised her other foot, the chair squeaked and spun round as she now crouched on it, her arms flying out to try and regain her balance. It stopped turning and she gulped as she now faced the bed, Jack’s eyes thankfully still closed. She shouldn’t have let go off the door handle. She reached behind her, grabbing onto the edge as she slowly nudged her self around until her nose kissed the wood. Great, halfway there. Gingerly she allowed her self to stand, arms anxiously fluttering about in the air to make sure she didn’t topple over - she had come to far to crash to the ground now.
“Don’t you dare spin again.” She warned the chair for a moment forgetting that she had to be quiet. Deciding that the chair was behaving she stretched her arms upward, her tongue poking out the corner of her mouth in concentration. She cursed herself for being so small as her finger just missed the hem of her pant leg, a hair’s width away. God fucking dammit. She tried again, stretching up on her tip toes this time but she was taken by surprise when two warm arms wrapped around her waist, a noise nuzzling at her back.
“Morning, sweetheart.” He rasped against her skin, husky with sleep. His thumb gently stroked across her abdomen, the small action making goosebumps appear across her skin. “Do you want some help reaching those?” He asked her sweetly, too sweetly. She let her arms drop in defeat. Why was he always so sweet to her? He placed a soft kiss to the back of her t-shirt and she felt her forehead meet with the door in front of her. Why did he have to make this hard?
“Are you okay?” He asked, relinquishing her waist as he let her climb down from the chair. He smiled as he easily reached her pants, tugging them down, chuckling. “How did these get up here, huh?” He held them out for her, his smile dropped again as his gaze landed on his face. She looked so stressed, so uncomfortable, was she cold? The heater was on full, it was winter after all. “Y/N?”
“Thank you, Strike Commander Morrison.” She replied bluntly, yanking her pants from his grip. She hurriedly set about putting them on and he crouched down beside her.
“You’re worrying me.” He said and she ignored him, fastening her zip and turning to leave. “Why are you in such a rush?”
“I thought I’d leave before I overstayed my welcome.” The words dripped with venom, stabbing into him almost as much as they hurt her. He frowned, words leaving him momentarily. He would never kick her out, he wasn’t like that, not anymore.
“Stay for breakfast. I’ve got bacon in the fridge, the good kind, smoked.” He said and she huffed as she ran a hand through her hair, brushing it through with her fingers. She was not leaving this room with sex hair. He moved closer to her, a hand coming to rest on her arm, losing the jovial smile to level with her. “Can we talk? I know something’s bothering you.”
“Talk about what, Strike Commander Morrison? What do you want to fucking talk about?” She yelled at him, smacking his hand away and his eyes widened, stunned at her response. She stormed for the door, but Jack was faster, he swept in front of her, letting his back flatten against the door. She made eye contact with him and her resolve broke a little, voice cracking as tears pooled in her eyes, threatening to spill onto her cheeks. “Why won’t you just let me leave?”
“You can leave as soon as you tell me why you’re so upset.” He said gently, he had never seen her like this before, fragile, so downright sad. In fact he was sure he had never seen her cry. His heart broke as he realised this was his fault, he had hurt her this way. Her back met with the wall and she sunk to the ground, knees hugged to her chest and he followed suit, moving away from the door to sit next to her. He moved to wipe her tears from her cheeks with his thumb and a wave of relief swept through him when she didn’t swat his hand away again. He bumped shoulders with her and her head fell back to bump lightly with the plaster of the wall, her hands limply hung over her knees. “Just tell me what I did wrong.”
May I please request darkcreature!gramander fluff? With the two of them as dark creatures, but still so very much happy and in love with one another?
[a/n] @hamelin-born of course! I’d be happy to! Sorry this sat in my inbox so long. It was super fun to write though (I admit, fluff is not my strong suit. I’m not super practiced at it… but I hope this suffices!). Besides, it’s about time I give the boys some comfort and fluff. Maybe I should make it a thing. 1 fluff for every 5 fics of pain. XD Hope you enjoy!
There were many sides of Graves
that Newt loved. He loved the director that could back him into a corner, all
long lines and powerful edges, and simply devour him with hot breath and even
hotter lips. He loved the man that woke up earlier despite going to bed late,
just to help Newt with his chores around the enclosures of his case. He loved
the friend that made sure to walk Queenie home after an unexpectedly late night
at the office. He loved the sympathetic human being that decided to turn a
blind eye to a certain kind no-maj and his bakery when he realized just where
those creature-inspired pastries Newt loved so much were coming from. He loved
the way he doted on the Niffler when he thought Newt wasn’t looking, or how he
seemed particularly in awe of the powerful grace of the Nundu despite their
dangerous (and very illegal) presence.
He loved him when he had Newt in
his arms, his lips at his shoulder whispering kind words into his freckled skin.
He loved him when he woke up trembling and he loved him when he lost himself
beneath Newt’s touch and he loved him when he tried to hide the fact that he
used reading glasses because he thought it made him old.
There were many sides of Graves
that Newt loved. But this one… Graves
curled up on the couch – hair mussed and sleepy eyed and clad in an old and
battered Ilvermorny sweater – dozing sweetly with the faintest snore… This was
one of his favorites.
Newt came to stand beside the
couch and delicately set the bowl of oil he had been carrying down on the side
table before leaning down to gently check Graves’ temperature by pressing his
forehead up against the other man’s brow. Warm, still feverish from the change.
Newt nodded, expecting no less, before gently taking the paperwork from Graves’
slack grip and gently setting it aside as well.
“M’not done with that,” Graves
mumbled, one eye cracked open to watch Newt with a frown – but he made no move
to stop him. Newt smiled.
“It’ll still be here for you
later,” he said simply, before turning back to the director and gently brushing
a sweaty lock of hair from his brow. Even narrow as they were, he could still
see amber peeking out inside the dark depths of Graves’ brown eyes. “How are we
“Told you m’fine,” Graves groused
even as he sunk a little more into the baggy comfort of his sweater, his jaw
tipping instinctively into the callused curve of Newt’s hand as he brought it
down to cup his face. “I need to get used to this.”
Newt sighed, amused and a little
“You can’t just will this away,
Percival,” he said as he took one of Graves’ trembling hands into his own and
willed heat into his fingers – easing the tremor from the director’s bones. “What
you really need to get used to is taking care of yourself.”
Graves scowled even as a deep,
contented purr blossomed in his chest from Newt’s administrations.
“I don’t have time to take off
after every full moon, Newt,” he said.
“One day a month wouldn’t kill
you,” Newt pressed as he eased his thumbs into the aching flesh between the
tendons of Graves’ hand and moved up to start rubbing away the ache in the man’s
wrist – slightly swollen from the transformation earlier that morning. “If you
don’t listen to your body, it’ll make you listen. The last thing you or your
team needs is their director passing out in the middle of MACUSA because you pushed
yourself too hard.”
Graves looked away at that, more
awake now than he had been – a cute little wrinkle between his brows from
frowning. Newt apologetically kissed his hand at the sight of his troubled
look. Graves wasn’t used to having to take it easy. Before Grindelwald, his
power had been uncontested. His body had been strong, his magic even stronger. According
to Tina, the man never got sick. His work had been his life. Sometimes he even
slept in his office. He had never needed to slow down before. To rest.
And like many things, Grindelwald
robbed him of that too.
Newt hadn’t believed it at first.
He had never heard of a man becoming a werewolf without having been bitten by
one. But sure enough, when they found Graves he was half mad from starvation
and captivity and the pain of his oncoming transformation. And there hadn’t
even been so much as a scar to suggest the man had ever been bitten. Graves had
tried to warn them, though. He howled at them to close the door – to leave. The
aurors just thought him crazed and panicked. They didn’t listen. They advanced
on him with soothing whispers and eager hands, and all the while Newt couldn’t
help but feel like something was wrong as he watched Graves press himself as
far into the corner as he could – small and terribly thin and trembling. Eyes
on the window. Afraid.
Afraid of himself.
They thought he was afraid of
Grindelwald returning. Newt didn’t notice that it was the rising moon the man
was watching until it was too late. Thankfully, Graves couldn’t remember
anything after the transformation. Newt was grateful for that every day.
“Newt?” Graves asked, breaking
the magizoologist from his thoughts. “Are you alright?”
Newt blinked, pinned beneath the
worried warmth of Graves’ gaze – still glowing ever so faintly from his night as
a wolf. And when Newt didn’t answer right away, Graves gently pulled his hand
away and for the first time, Newt saw the man nervously avert his eyes.
“You don’t have to keep doing
this. I know you’re busy,” Graves said softly, and Newt flinched when he
finally recognized the man’s body language for what it was – shame. “I can take care of myself.”
Newt wasn’t sure what the man was
expecting. But it obviously wasn’t the scoffing snort Newt let out at the man’s
statement. Graves whirled to look at him with wide eyes as Newt took advantage
of his shock to grab at the waistline of the man’s pants and ease them down his
long legs, past his swollen and aching knees, until finally they were off the
“If that were true, these,” Newt said, hot hands on the
director’s knee caps, “Wouldn’t be so swollen. And I wouldn’t have had to argue
with you to get you to stay home for once in your life.”
Graves scowled and opened his
mouth to argue, but Newt quickly lifted himself up to silence the man with a
chaste kiss before leaning back – smiling.
“I know you can take care of
yourself,” he said, eyes crinkled at the edges as he made sure to remember
every line that made up the soft, shocked expression on Graves’ normally
controlled and stoic face. “That doesn’t mean you have to do it alone.”
Without another word, Newt dipped
his hands into the minty oil he had brought for Graves and shuffled down to
kneel by the man’s legs. Gently, he eased them straight – lips soft and
apologetic against the man’s shin when the cartilage in his knee popped
angrily. Newt didn’t miss the way the director flinched or how he was biting
the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning.
“Ssh,” he said, eyes looking up
the long line of Graves’ body to meet his feverish gaze. “I’ve got you.”
He willed the skin of his hands
hotter as pressed his thumbs around the swollen edges of Graves’ right knee. He
knew what it must feel like. Minty coolness and warm flesh and delicious
pressure as he rubbed away knots and untangled the muscles that had been
aggravated from the change. He rubbed until Graves’ bitten off groans turned
into soft little huffs of pleasure beneath his breath. He kneaded the flesh, working
his palms from the back of the man’s knee down into the meat of his calve, until Graves’ body had sunken into the couch – head back. He moved to the other leg
once the man’s eyes slipped closed, Graves’ hands trembling for a completely
And all the while, Newt smiled.
He drank in the sight of this Graves;
the normally fierce and powerful director turned puddle on the couch. The
strong lines of his face soft with pleasure and his body slack
beneath Newt’s touch. Messy hair and inelegant clothing and glistening skin. He
cherished every second of easing the baggy, battered sweater up the hard planes
of the man’s stomach. He kissed and worshiped every inch of pale skin the
journey exposed and loved the way Graves grumbled sleepily as Newt guided the
overgrown sweater over the man’s head. He memorized the feel of the man’s firm
body beneath his hands as he rubbed away the weariness of the werewolf’s shoulders and
the tautness in his back. He didn’t stop until Graves was well and truly
lost to the world, half asleep and blissed out from the magizoologist’s
And when Newt was finally content
with the quality of his work, he simply eased Graves’ upper body up so that he
could slide his lap beneath the man and join him on the couch. Newt smiled as
long, powerful arms threaded themselves around his waist so that Graves might
press his nose into the redhead’s stomach – his ribs rumbling heavily against Newt’s
thigh beneath the weight of his contented purrs. Yes. This was one of his favorite
sides of Percival Graves; the side he never showed the world.
“What an odd pair we must make,”
Graves mumbled sleepily into Newt’s belly. “A werewolf in the lap of a dragon.”
Newt smiled down at him and
brushed the director’s dark hair back from his brow even as he willed his body hotter, eager
to soothe Graves’ aches.
“I think the word you’re looking
for is ‘perfect’.”
Summary: An unexpected visit to your bakery by Bucky Barnes leads to a childish food-fight and perhaps the start of something new.
Word Count: 1,370.
A/N: See that mini HSM reference I did there? So this cute idea randomly came to me and I knew I had to write it down immediately. Unfortunately there’s no new part for “Wedding Planner” but there will be next week! Hope you enjoy, xo.
Summary:Based on Aladdin. Reader is the princess who wants nothing more than to escape the reality, and Ethan is the street urchin. Word Count: 2,701 Warnings: None. A/N: I don’t know why this just came to my mind but I suddenly started imagining Ethan as Aladdin and I couldn’t keep the ideas from blooming. I need help. I also need Ethan in a vest, poofy pants and a little hat. (Title from if I could I would feel nothing by blackbear)
You knew that you had to marry a prince one day, being a princess made it kind of your destiny. But you didn’t expect it to be so soon, and that’s why you felt like someone had smacked you across the cheek when your father, the Sultan, had called you in. There, he had told you about your dreaded future plans and that had sent you in a small state of panic. You had protested, even begged him to let you find your own prince in your own pace. But your pleas fell on deaf ears so you did what any reasonable human being did; you packed up an ran away.
The long brown robe you had thrown on made it difficult to climb up the large tree, but you managed to get over the fence of the palace. Looking back on the place you had called home for as long as you could remember, you felt a lump form in your throat at the thought of leaving it and leaving your father. Not too long ago, you had both lost your mother and the country had lost their queen to a viscious accident that left everyone mourning. Since then, it had only been you and your father taking care of each other. He’d absolutely lose it if he searched the palace only to find out that you’d escaped.
Sorry, didn’t proofread. Wrote it because I thought it’d be funny.
Anders landed in the grass flat on his back with a thud. A
wheezing breath escaped his lips- all that he was capable of after he had the
air knocked out of his lungs. With unblinking eyes, he stared up at the wide, open
sky and thought to himself, “Why
“Again,” Fenris said. He gracefully spun the staff
he used to knock Anders off his feet behind his back and offered his hand to
the fallen mage. “Your left side was wide open. Guard it better.”
Golden eyes narrowed, glaring at the smirking elf.
“I’ll have you know,” he rasped, “I was a battlemage. I fought
darkspawns and brood mothers. I helped take down a High Dragon. I-”
“-got taken down by an elf.” If you don’t get
better at fighting without magic, you
won’t survive. You can’t depend on me protecting you forever.“
Anders scowled. Almost, just almost, he wanted to called Fenris "Warden Commander”. Sometimes
the blighted elf reminded him of the other elf that loved trouncing his ass
left and right for training purposes. What was wrong with a mage relying on his
magic in battle? The point of recruiting a mage to fight was because of their magic.
“If I run out of mana, I can down some lyrium. Better
than getting my ass kicked by you until I’m black and blue.”
Fenris raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking
in amusement. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I doubt the enemies will
wait for you to finish sucking me off before they cut us down.”
Anders made a disgusted sound as he grabbed the proffered
hand. “Not that kind of lyrium, you pervert.”
“So I’m a pervert now? You never complained
Bent over, Fenris was in a vulnerable position, or so Anders
thought. He swiped his leg at Fenris’ ankle, but instead of falling to the
side, Fenris fell on top of him. Despite the fact he survived longer than
anyone would have bet by being unbelievably paranoid and good at defense, he
didn’t expect Fenris’ weight pressing him down. One second he was facing the
elf, the next he was flipped over, eating grass as he was pinned to the ground
by a hard body.
His reaction was immediate and unthinking. When you’ve been
in literally more fights than you can count, often against opponents much
bigger than you who have no compunction at all about fighting dirty, you learn
a few things. Anders tried them all and then some, yet Fenris didn’t budge.
He rolled onto his back, but only because Fenris allowed it.
Maneuvers that had taken others by surprised, Fenris easily countered, forcing
Anders to improvise wildly. The elf managed to slam his arms against his sides,
pulling Anders hard against him in the process.
Fenris’ power and strength was achingly familiar to Anders.
His lover’s lyrium crackled along his skin, warring with his own magic. Anders
tried to knee him in a sensitive area- anything to gain an upper hand- but
Fenris slipped a leg between his, crushing him between his body and the ground.
The fight paused. Anders couldn’t break free, but Fenris
couldn’t press his advantage without risking him slipping free. Fenris’ breath
came fast. The solid feel of that solid chest moving up and down against Anders’
brought a different sense of emotion. His entire body clenched, his breath
heaved, nipples hardening. He shivered, caught between fury and arousal, and
stared up into a face that reflected his lust.
Fenris’ grip tightened, setting Anders’ pulse pounding in
his ears. The fight-or-flight instinct kicked in, but despite wanting to
struggle, break free, Anders melted against him. It wasn’t a huge change. They
were already as close as they could bodily get, but it felt different. A second
earlier, Fenris’ resembled carved rock. Now it was warm, muscled flesh. His
hold loosened, changing into something closer to an embrace. It felt so
shockingly good, Anders shifted luxuriously against the muscular thigh
spreading his legs and slid his arms out of Fenris’ grasp.
Anders ran his hand up his chest, and the prick of Fenris’
nipples through his thin vest brought a sudden surge of desire, hard and
piercing. He twined his arms around the elf’s neck, fingers carding through his
hair. “Fenris,” he murmured, arching up against the weight holding
Fenris’ eyes dropped, tangibly caressed a path across
Anders’ body. “Yes?”
The blond pulled Fenris close, whispering his lips along the
other’s mouth in a soft kiss, breathing in the warm, sweet scent of a man. He
felt the start of a genuine smile against his mouth, and in his mind’s eye, he
saw the telltale dimple appear on Fenris’ cheek. “You’re not supposed to
smile,” he sighed, nibbling the plump bottom lip he was tasting. “Act
more troubled by this.”
Fenris hummed against Anders’ mouth, entranced by the feel
of the mage writhing, rubbing up and against him.
…Anders jerked down hard on Fenris’ hair, forcing his head
back. He moved his other hand to the center of the elf’s chest and pushed. He
spun, using his momentum to reverse their position, Fenris on the floor while
Anders straddled his thighs. “Ha! Rule number one, never let your guard
down! I finally win!”
“Same goes to you,” Fenris said through gritted
teeth. In a lightning movement, Fenris hooked his hand behind Anders’ leg and
jerked back, unbalancing the mage that he ended up back on his back. “I
think I like this position better, don’t you?”
Groaning, and not from pleasure, Anders slumped back, his
head hitting the grass. “I give up. If even seduction doesn’t work,
“Perhaps not on darkspawns or bandits, but they work on
me.” Fenris hauled Anders over his shoulder as if the mage weighed
nothing. Ander yelped when a hand smacked his ass. “Now for my reward for
Anon: Hey can you do a Taeyong scenario in which you have invited him to your house for a movie and it’s like one from your first “dates” and something (**cough** cliché **cough**) happens and he ends up above you and then it’s hella awkward or you kiss or something. My explanation is the worst i know 😩😳
A/N: Hey sorry I totally forgot about your request! Here you go! xx
Pairing: Taeyong x Reader
Song: Taeyeon- I’m Okay
The silence was deafening. Not in the room, the TV played his favourite rom-com movie on full volume. It was the silence between you two as you both fixated your gaze at the bright screen and pretended to be engrossed in the plot of the movie. He shifted his weight on the couch and you took a deep breath, partially hoping he’d close the distance between you. But he just stayed there, glued to that spot. You eyed him subtly, trying to see if his facial expression gave away what was going on in his mind. He looked perfect. Even from where you sat. He had a hoodie on, the hood covering his eyes. A few brown strands of hair peeked through. His nose settled slender on his small face and his jawline was sharp as a knife. You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling defensive. If he didn’t want to be here, why did he even bother? And the movie isn’t even that good.
Taeyong and you had just started going out. It was such a beautiful initiative. Him smiling shyly as he handed you a couple of roses and asked you out. You said yes. It was your dream and he was prepossessing. His voice and gaze tore through your skin. You were falling so hard for him. But now as the cold air settled in and the hunger sent pangs through your stomach, you contemplated all your decisions.
“I’m gonna go get some popcorn,” you said, turning to him. His beauty caught you off guard and you involuntarily gasped.He smiled at you and ruffled your hair. You were sure your cheeks were turning red despite the cold. The kitchen was sound, the far of lights twinkling from the elongated window that encased your kitchen. You stared at them, filling up your class with water. You could hear the faint sound from the TV in the living room. His presence resonated a strange aura to your two room apartment.
“Y/N,” you heard him calling.
“Yeah?” Footsteps grew closer to the kitchen when you finally saw him approaching you. His legs were slender as they propelled him closer. And closer. He leaned in and touched your hand. His mere touch sent shivers through out your whole body. Your heart beat rapidly inside you, you could hear your palpitations in your ears. Thumping against your rib cage, asking you to stop.
“The water was overflowing in the glass.” He smiled faintly at you, his voice gentle as ever and gaze as kind as a sheep’s. You jerked away, staring at your wet hand, the sound of falling water accompanying you both as he stood close. He had showered before he’d came. You could smell fresh shampoo and soap off of him. He wore no makeup but still looked as pleasing as ever.
“Oh,” you finally uttered. He chuckled at you, detaching the soaking glass from your slippery grip and setting it aside. He got a kitchen towel and dried your fingers.
“You should stop being so clumsy.” All the frustration you had felt from earlier evaporated by his single touch. It scared you that you were giving this beautiful boy the power to change your mood and your opinions. You stared at him, his glistening hair and his faint scar on the corner of his eye. Every part of him was arresting. “I thought you were making popcorn.” Your lips were sealed. His gaze was overwhelming and you could feel yourself losing your energy to paralyses, only the hard stone of the kitchen counter supporting your weight. “Y/N?” You snapped out of your daze and gave him a smile.
“Yea I was just getting to it.” He nodded and walked over to the cabinets to take out the packets.
He sat a bit closer to you when you came back. The movie was getting boring, you both could feel it. “I’ll get another one,” you stated. He nodded and turned to the DVD player and ejected the CD, glad that you wanted to change it. You stood on the soft material of the couch and fished through the shelves above.
“Y/N, you’ll fall,” he laughed. You looked back at him and shook your head. You felt the couch move and before you knew it he was standing to you. As he came closer you lost your balance and fell on the couch and caused him to fall on top of you. You opened your eyes to his. They were brown, deep and glowing. They were the most beautiful pair of eyes you had ever seen. He smelled much better from that angle, he felt warmer, touchable. He was shocked, it was evident but his eyes roamed around your face, stopping at your lips. He leaned it, slowly. His pace was painful but it was all worth it when he crashed his lips against yours. They tasted salty but felt tender against yours. Who said first dates are always awkward? Because as you fell in love with him and he with you in that moment, it was anything but awkward.