Steve and Bucky seeing what people call gangsters today and talk about the Irish and Italian mafia when they were growing up and how they got some money during hard times for doing some runs for the mafia
“Huh.” Steve looks over to Bucky where he sits
curled up in a deep, cozy papasan chair.
“I don’t think we qualify anymore, Buck.”
Bucky hummed, cheeks
stuffed full of popcorn.
“I’m sorry, what?”
Sam leaned forward in his seat.
“You don’t qualify as what
anymore?” The anticipation on his face
Bucky shrugged. “’Snothin’.
Steve n’I just did odd jobs back in the day. Had to make ends meet, you know how it is.”
Clint narrowed his
eyes. “Wait. Waitwaitwait.
Odd jobs.” He looked at the
screen to the rolling credits of the movie they’d just watched and back to
Steve and Bucky. “Oh my God. Is that your way of saying you were Old-Timey
It was Steve’s turn to
shrug. “Not really. Sort of.
–I mean. Officially,
legally. Illegally. Yeah.”
“Oh my God.” Steve was pretty
sure Sam was going to have a heart attack.
“Why did I not know this?!”
Bucky wriggled around so
he could face Sam better. “It was
prohibition for us. People were still
drinkin’. Steve needed medicine and an
honest job didn’t pay as much as we needed.
So.” He shrugged.
“So I managed logistics
and Bucky did the literal heavy lifting.
Not really that big a deal.”
Clint was grinning a mile
wide. “This is so much better than I
could imagine. Steve, you had mob connections.”
“What?!” Sam squeaked.
Steve made a defenseless
gesture. “Families like that have long
memories. They know I’m alive.” He nodded towards the bar. “You think I buy my liquor?”
Bucky grinned. “You always did ingratiate yourself.” He
looked at Sam. “He was their best-selling supplier Brooklyn had. They owe him; he helped keep them in business long enough for for prohibition to end and for them to make real money.” Bucky held up his glass and let Dum-E cart it
over to the bar, smiling wickedly. “Another whiskey.”
“I want you to tell me about every person you’ve ever been in love with.
Tell me why you loved them,
then tell me why they loved you.
Tell me about a day in your life you didn’t think you’d live through.
Tell me what the word home means to you
and tell me in a way that I’ll know your mother’s name
just by the way you describe your bedroom
when you were eight.
See, I want to know the first time you felt the weight of hate,
and if that day still trembles beneath your bones.
Do you prefer to play in puddles of rain
or bounce in the bellies of snow?
And if you were to build a snowman,
would you rip two branches from a tree to build your snowman arms
or would leave your snowman armless
for the sake of being harmless to the tree?
And if you would,
would you notice how that tree weeps for you
because your snowman has no arms to hug you
every time you kiss him on the cheek?
Do you kiss your friends on the cheek?
Do you sleep beside them when they’re sad
even if it makes your lover mad?
Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion
or just the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain?
See, I wanna know what you think of your first name,
and if you often lie awake at night and imagine your mother’s joy
when she spoke it for the very first time.
I want you to tell me all the ways you’ve been unkind.
Tell me all the ways you’ve been cruel.
Tell me, knowing I often picture Gandhi at ten years old
beating up little boys at school.
If you were walking by a chemical plant
where smokestacks were filling the sky with dark black clouds
would you holler “Poison! Poison! Poison!” really loud
or would you whisper
“That cloud looks like a fish,
and that cloud looks like a fairy!”
Do you believe that Mary was really a virgin?
Do you believe that Moses really parted the sea?
And if you don’t believe in miracles, tell me —
how would you explain the miracle of my life to me?
See, I wanna know if you believe in any god
or if you believe in many gods
or better yet
what gods believe in you.
And for all the times that you’ve knelt before the temple of yourself,
have the prayers you asked come true?
And if they didn’t, did you feel denied?
And if you felt denied,
denied by who?
I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror
on a day you’re feeling good.
I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror
on a day you’re feeling bad.
I wanna know the first person who taught you your beauty
could ever be reflected on a lousy piece of glass.
If you ever reach enlightenment
will you remember how to laugh?
Have you ever been a song?
Would you think less of me
if I told you I’ve lived my entire life a little off-key?
And I’m not nearly as smart as my poetry
I just plagiarize the thoughts of the people around me
who have learned the wisdom of silence.
Do you believe that concrete perpetuates violence?
And if you do —
I want you to tell me of a meadow
where my skateboard will soar.
See, I wanna know more than what you do for a living.
I wanna know how much of your life you spend just giving,
and if you love yourself enough to also receive sometimes.
I wanna know if you bleed sometimes
from other people’s wounds,
and if you dream sometimes
that this life is just a balloon —
that if you wanted to, you could pop,
but you never would
‘cause you’d never want it to stop.
If a tree fell in the forest
and you were the only one there to hear —
if its fall to the ground didn’t make a sound,
would you panic in fear that you didn’t exist,
or would you bask in the bliss of your nothingness?
And lastly, let me ask you this:
If you and I went for a walk
and the entire walk, we didn’t talk —
do you think eventually, we’d… kiss?
That’s asking too much —
this is only our first date.”
Yo a prompt here they meet in a pair one night like pastelxpunk punk!Phil being out with some mates and Dan with some uni buds and Dan wears like skirts and stuff and get this that night he's wearing fishnets so when they get to Phil's apartment later Phil just rips them apart bc Dan's been subtly teasing him all night long and they like do it on the kitchen counter thanks
Phil was annoyed, and horny. Lately it seemed like those were his main emotions, but right then, he didn’t want to think about that. He wanted to think about the fact that that extremely attractive guy across the bar kept winking at him.
Or maybe he wasn’t looking at him so suggestively. Maybe Phil was delirious, but really, he didn’t care. He wanted that boy riding him, he wanted him desperate and screaming and he wasn’t getting any closer to that on the other side of the room.
“Phil?” His friend Chris laughed, waving his hand in front of Phil’s face. “You’re spacing out again.”
Phil turned to look at him, raising his eyebrows, licking his lip ring. It was somewhat new, and he couldn’t stop messing with it.
“Was I?” He asked, huffing.
“Uh, yeah. You were.” Chris took a swig of his drink, Phil had forgotten what it was because his own brain had been muddled by the alcohol, and set the glass back down on the counter. “Are you gonna fuck him or what?”
“I don’t even know him,” Phil muttered, rolling his eyes and slowly taking a sip of his own drink.
“So?” Chris smirked. “That’ll just make it better. He keeps looking at you.” He nodded in the boy’s direction and Phil whirled around, catching his eye.
Surprisingly, he didn’t look away. The man kept his gaze, smirking gently and looking him over, before slowly looking away. Chris slammed his glass down on the counter.
“That was a fucking invitation if I’ve ever seen one,” he grumbled.
Phil considered it; what he wouldn’t do to get his hands on that guy. He was wearing a flowy yellow shirt that showed his stomach, and a very revealing skirt, as well as goddamn fishnets. Fuck.
The boy went back to talking to his friends, glancing over every now and then.
Chris held out a small glass; a shot; and grinned. Phil must have missed him ordering it while looking at the guy. “Take this, fucker, and go over there or I will.”
Phil rolled his eyes, tossing it back and setting down the glass. “Wish me luck,” he muttered, clearing his throat and scrunching his nose. “Fuck, that’s strong.”
He stepped down from the stool, straightening his leather jacket and cracking his neck; and he walked over to the boy, who was still talking to two friends.
He cleared his throat when he reached them, and the guy looked over, raising his eyebrows.
“Hey, what’s your name?” Phil asked, rather loudly so as to be heard over the loud music in the bar.
“Dan,” the boy said back, leaning forward, nodding. “You?”
“Phil,” Phil replied, grinning. “And I just came over here to tell you that if you look at me like that one more time, I can’t promise I’ll control myself.”
Dan raised his eyebrows, smiling slightly. “And what does that mean?” He asked slowly. Phil shrugged.
“If you want bruises all over you by tomorrow, I suggest you try and find out,” he answered, his voice low, and turned around, walking back to Chris.
“How’d it go?” He asked, tilting his head. Phil smirked.
“You’ll see,” he said calmly, taking another sip of his drink.
Sure enough, about ten minutes later, Dan walked over to them, swaying slightly. He leaned on Phil, resting his head on his shoulder and pouting.
“I’ve been here all night, and I haven’t found anyone to take me home yet,” he whined, looking up at him with wide eyes. He hopped up on Phil’s lap, and Phil sucked in a sharp breath.
“Yeah, okay, we’re going to my place,” he growled, grabbing tightly to Dan’s waist and making him squeak. “Chris, get a ride.”
Chris just shrugged. “Yeah yeah. Have fun, you two. Be safe, use condoms.” Phil smacked him over the head, and Dan giggled.
So that’s how Phil found himself swaying up to his apartment door, a giggly Dan clinging to him like a monkey. A tipsy monkey.
Phil slammed him against the door, attaching his lips to Dan’s. His tongue slipped into Dan’s mouth when Dan’s lips parted, and Dan moaned into the kiss, smiling.
Phil’s hands were everywhere once the door was unlocked, roaming Dan’s body almost desperately. They only made it to the kitchen counter before Phil was pulling his shirt off over his head roughly, doing the same to his own.
He worked at Dan’s throat, his hands searching blindly for the zipper of his skirt. Dan whimpered, leading his hands to it, and Phil got it off in a matter of seconds.
Then came the tricky part; the fishnets. Phil growled, shaking his head and tearing them apart completely, tossing them aside to get to the part he really cared about.
Dan gasped sharply, clinging to Phil’s shoulders. “Holy shit,” he breathed. “I would normally be mad, but fuck that was hot. Christ.” He tugged at Phil’s belt, pulling it off and fumbling with his zipper.
Phil chuckled, letting Dan work, his breath brushing over his ear. He pulled off Dan’s panties, groaning when Dan automatically grinded against him.
“Fuck me,” Phil breathed, his voice heavy. “Oh Christ, fuck me Phil.”
Phil hummed, chuckling and digging his nails into Dan’s thighs, pushing him back on the counter. “I was planning on it.”
Phil muttered a ‘be right back’ and hurried off to get lube and a condom, in only his boxers, and when he got back Dan was already stretching himself with two fingers inside himself. He looked up, grinning and letting out a soft whine.
“I’d rather it was you,” he said softly, throwing his head back, and Phil was done being nice.
He climbed on top of the counter, pulling Dan’s hand away from himself and straddling him, tugging his boxers down. He kissed him, hotly and open mouthed, and Dan whined into his mouth.
In only a matter of seconds Phil was ready and pushing against Dan’s entrance, making him gasp and throw his head back.
“Fuck,” he breathed as Phil pushed in, moaning softly and biting his lip. “Fuck, more.”
Phil moved slightly, shifting their position and pulling Dan’s hips up so he could get a better angle. He bottomed out, thrusting slowly and watching Dan’s face. Dan was practically desperate, pushing himself back on Phil’s cock and whining.
Phil couldn’t help it; he wrapped his hand around Dan’s throat, pinning him down. “Want more? Huh?” He growled, his voice low and dangerous.
Dan’s eyes widened and he nodded slightly, a high pitched whimper leaving his lips. “Yes, please,” he said weakly.
Phil rolled his hips, fucking into him at a faster but still teasing rhythm.
Dan moaned loudly, his eyes falling shut, and Phil sped up. He couldn’t help it, Dan looked so fucking good like that, desperate, being used. Soon he was pounding into him without mercy, and Dan was letting out incredibly sexy noises.
Phil wrapped his hand around Dan’s cock, jerking him off in time with his thrusts, and Dan was gone. He practically screamed, letting go on his stomach, his cock twitching.
Phil groaned, leaning over to kiss at Dan’s neck, feeling himself get close as well. Dan’s weak whimper, his voice breaking, is what sent him over the edge.
Phil got down from the counter, breathing heavily, discarding the condom and running his fingers through his sweaty hair.
He leaned over Dan, looking down at the exhausted and fucked out boy. Dan frowned.
“I’m guessing you’re gonna ask me to leave now, huh…?” He asked, sounding a little sad. Phil smiled, and shook his head.
“Actually, I was gonna ask if you wanted to stay the night. And if you liked Chinese food.”
Request: hi! i was wondering if you could do a bts reaction maybe?🙈 to their s/o hugging them from behind and whispering “i love you” with their head on his back/shoulder (it depends😹) -this is so soft😭- thank you!
Warning: Mentions of pregnancy
A/N: Kongnamul is Korean for “Bean Sprout”. Kongnamulguk is Korean for “Bean Sprout Soup”.
You held tightly at the hem of Seokjin’s oversized tan hoodie, scrunching your nose at the tears stinging your eyes. This is stupid, you thought. It’s only going to be a month. We’ve done longer distances than this. You exhaled a sigh. Must be the pregnancy hormones.
You idly rubbed your tummy, baby bump barely noticeable, but to you, it felt like you were carrying the world. Your world. The moment you and Seokjin had waited years for, for what felt like the right time to start your family. A small smile spread across your lips, despite the still lingering tears.
Seokjin smiled politely and handed over his passport. He turned towards you, a protective arm slipping around your shoulders. “What’s the matter, Jagiya?”
You looked up to him through long lashes and pouted. “I don’t like it,” you murmered. A sad smile spread across his plump lips. “I know, Jagi.” He lifted your chin with a slim finger and you found nothing but happiness resting in his eyes. “It will only be a month. I’ll FaceTime you and little kongnamul every night, okay?”.
A giggle escaped your closed lips and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the nickname. The doctor had called you with the news while you were both out to dinner and you happened to be eating kongnamulguk, and the name just seemed to stick.
Seokjin turned away to receive his passport, thanking the woman at the desk and bowing slightly. Happiness flooded through you, staring up at him, and you were sure of nothing more in the world that this was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your days with. You snaked your arms around his slim waist and nuzzled your cheek into the back of his broad shoulders.
“I love you,” you breathed. You could feel heat burning in your cheeks and tears stinging your eyes again. You quickly wiped them away, pulling away from Seokjin’s tall frame.
He smiled shyly, a hand coming up to cover his smile. “Aish, you’re cute, (Y/N). Can’t you just stay pregnant forever if you keep acting this cute?”.
You stretched the muscles of your neck from side to side, setting down your pen on your World Culture text book. You looked behind you from your place on Yoongi’s studio couch, sprawled out on your stomach, to Yoongi who was working diligently away on his computer. You eyes followed his side profile, from his pinched eyebrows in concentration, to the downturn of his lips, muttering something under his breath you couldn’t quite catch.
You bit your lip and glanced down to his work space, littered with his small, black leather notebook, a couple of pencils and erasers and sticky notes. You closed your text book, and adjusted your shorts, before exiting the room.
Yoongi shifted in his seat, looking back to where you had just lay, before adjusting his headphones and returning his attention to the screen.
You returned moments later, a napkin, a bottle of water and one of Yoongi’s favorite cold bottled coffees in both hands. You came up behind him, his eyes still fervently searching the screen for the solution to some unseen problem. You leaned down and gently blew at the exposed skin of the nape of his neck, smiling when little mountains of goosebumps rose to the surface.
You reached over his shoulders and placed down the napkin on his work space, setting the cold, coffee on top and the water bottle next to it. You watched as a small, appreciative smile came to life, and couldn’t help but return it. You slid the palms of your hands from the tops of his shoulders down the hills of his chest to rest lightly on his toned stomach.
“I love you,” you whispered in his ear. You watched as the small smile turned gummy, and he looked down, the blush creeping up his neck barely noticeable in the dim light
“I love you, too,” he chuckled, the low timber of his unused voice sending butterflies soaring in your chest.
You bobbed your head to the resounding base, idly scrolling through social media on your phone. You sat, perched on one of the blue dance mats, ignoring the dull ache in the base of your spine for easy companionship with Hoseok as he perfected a dance for another episode of Hope on the Street. You set your phone beside you and watched Hoseok carefully, from his controlled facial expressions, to the way his body naturally seemed to pop and lock into place where he so chose. You admired the way he could move his body so effortlessly, every carved out muscle under his control.
The song started over, and Hoseok raised both arms wide in the air, thoroughly stretching the muscles there. He made his way over to the mat you were sitting on and collapsed beside you, hair matting to his forehead, shirt sticking to him.
You scrunched your nose and smiled at him. “You stink,” you laughed. Hoseok smiled widely, an almost embarrassed laugh falling out. He puffed out his cheeks and blew out a deep breath, keeping his lips pursed for a second longer.
“Come, on.” Hoseok groaned, and made to stand up, muscles protesting against the action. “I think if I practice anymore, I’ll collapse.”
You took his outstretched hand and absently rubbed at your aching butt, as he pulled you up to your feet. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” you sighed. You watched as Hoseok began to pick up his things, aimlessly throwing them in the direction of his backpack in the corner of the room.
As he bent down to pick up his empty water bottle, you snaked your arms around his waist and rested your chin in between his shoulder blades, pushing most of your weight onto his back. “I love you,” you sighed, making him halt mid reach for his water bottle. You both stayed like that for few seconds longer, until you finished. “I just wish you would take better care of yourself.”
Hoseok turned, still in your arms, and rested both hands on your hips. He nuzzled his head into the soft crook of your neck and sighed. “I know, Jagi.”
Namjoon (Rap Monster)
Namjoon typed away at his laptop, sitting precariously on top of a pillow on his lap, bottom lip worrying between his teeth. His glasses sliding slowly off his face as he looked down at the screen, you couldn’t help the adoration that flowed through your veins.
You abandoned your place beside him on the couch and made your way into the small kitchen to see about starting dinner. You rifled through your cabinets, a dismal look pinching your brow together. “Take out it is, then,” you sighed.
You made your way back into the living room, your eyes easily finding Namjoon, eyes now tracing lines in a black notebook, glasses hanging on to just the tip of his nose. You walked over to the back of the couch behind him, and rested your hands on his tense shoulders.
“Namjoon-ah,” you called softly. You received a grunt in response, clearly absorbed in his work. It wasn’t like you to bother him while working, but from the lack of movement from both of you in the last couple of hours, you were sure he hadn’t eaten properly.
You leaned down and placed your lips gently against his ear. “Look at me,” you breathed. You watched in delight as the hairs on the nape of his neck stood on end as he licked his lips and gazed at you.
You straightened up and smiled at him. “Good. Now that I have your attention.” You crossed your arms over your chest and tilted your head. “You haven’t eaten much today,” you accused.
“Noona, I’m fine,” he rolled his head on the back of the couch and sighed.
You fixed his glasses to fit properly on his face and leaned back down to meet your lips with his. The kiss was slow, passionate, filled with every emotion you could imagine and all the time in the world to express them. You slid your hands down his shoulders to rest on his chest and broke the kiss, gazing at him. ”I love you, and the man I love will not work on an empty stomach.”
A low chuckled filled his lungs as he lifted head and closed his notebook. “Fine,” he whined, exaggerating the word as he rubbed the back of his neck and muttered “How do you always know how to get what you want?”
“Taehyung!” you exclaimed without any honorifics. “I thought you were gonna let me win!” You pouted, crossing your arms over your chest and sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair in a huff.
“Watch it, little girl,” he warned, but the threat was lost in the laugh that escaped his throat. You giggled at his attempt to be threatening, his boxy smile filling his face.
“Besides,” he continued. “How can I let you win, if you cant hit anything even with the gaurds up?” he teased.
You laughed, hand coming up to cover your mouth shyly. “I am pretty bad at this, huh?” you admitted. You looked up at the score board, your scores pitifully drastic.
Taehyung smiled at you lovingly, and you couldn’t help the heat that flooded your cheeks. You stood up and quickly crossed the distance between you two, holding your arms out to embrace him. He took you in his arms easily and you let the comforting scent of his cologne fill your nose.
“I love you,” you whispered into his chest. You felt rather than saw the chuckle that escaped his lips. He pulled you in tighter, squeezing you gently. “I love you, (Y/N).”
You waited patiently in line at the local coffee shop, fingers playing with the hem of your sweater to keep them from reaching out to touch Jimin. Standing only a couple feet away, you were still able to smell the faint scent of his cologne, something heady and earthy, like home.
You admired his side profile, although obscured by the black face mask and glasses he was adorning, you could recount every line and curve of his nose and lips. You smiled to yourself, thinking back to last night when your frames were so intertwined with each other, a thin layer of sweat covering the hills of your bodies, as he laced his fingers with yours, his thumb stroking the back of your hand idly as you sleepily tried to keep up with the conversation.
“(Y/N)?” the sweet sound of Jimin’s voice filled your ears, as he called out to you. You snapped your focus back to the man in front of you, a slight blush dusting your cheeks. “What would you like?”
Coffee. That’s right, you thought, bringing your attention to the present. You ordered your usual, and thanked Jimin quietly while he paid, eyes focused on his unoccupied hand and how you wanted to reach out and entangle his fingers with yours, to feel the smooth skin of his hands from meticulous care. Your self control wavered.
You both thanked the cashier and made your way to the other end of the bar, waiting for your coffee. Partially obscured by the height of the bar, you took his hand in both of yours and rubbed soothing circles on the back of his hand. You knew PDA made him a little uncomfortable, but you hoped this small act was okay.
“Jimin-ah,” You looked up at him through long lashes and bit your plump bottom lip. “I love you,” you breathed.
Jimin’ s eyes crinkled and you knew he was smiling widely. A soft chuckle filled your ears as he pulled his mask down to rest at the base of his chin. “And I love you, (Y/N).”
You sighed loudly, more loudly than was necessary, really, but you didn’t care. Jungguk had been staring at a screen for the last four hours and you were bored to tears. You had exhausted every form of social media you had, now resorting to just googling funny pictures.
You tossed your phone behind the couch, when just the sight of the lit up screen started to make you a bit cross eyed. You sat up cross-legged in the middle of the couch, eyeing the back of Jungguk’s head. He was in need of a haircut, the small hairs on the nape of his neck growing out, messing up the look of his undercut. Your fingers itched to run through his soft locks, but pushed down the urge.
You rested your head on the back of the couch and held tightly the pillow in your arms. You sighed loudly again, hoping Jungguk would take notice, but he only swore loudly at the T.V screen, fists tightening around the controller in his hands. You scrunched your nose in frustration and licked your lips.
Your eyes fell on the extra couch pillow at the end of sofa, and you quickly glanced back to Jungguk. You smiled and bit your lip, quickly snatching it by your side. You waited patiently until you considered he was at a good stopping point before you initiated your attack, both couch pillows hitting him square in the back of the head.
Jungguk flinched, immediately pausing the game and turned around, an accusatory glare aimed in your direction. A smile broke out on your face, biting your lip again to control the nerves that were suddenly pouring through you. You watched as the beginnings of a bunny-toothed smile appeared on his lips, and you poised yourself to run like a madman through the house, hoping he would take the bait and chase you.
Your legs sprung out from under you as you attempted to jump over the side of the couch, but Jungguk somehow was able to cross the five foot gap between you two and grab hold of your ankle, gently but firmly pulling you back down to the couch and sliding you towards him. You landed with an oof and felt the couch give to the weight of him, as he flipped you over onto your back, his body hovering over yours.
Your breath caught, and you tried to swallow, your throat too dry. You caught a glimpse of mischief in his doe-like eyes and immediately struggled to get away from him, hands trying fruitlessly to push his face away.
“Oh, no you don’t,” he muttered, words garbled from the weight of your hands pushing his cheek away. Jungguk pulled your hands away easily with one of his, the other releasing a vicious tickle ambush on your side and under your arms.
You laughed loudly, unable to control your wide smile. “NO. No, pleas- I’m sorry, OKAY?” you tried, your laughter making it hard to speak.
Jungguk laughed, bunny teeth cutely poking through, and rested his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. “I love you.” The words pushed through your lips before you could hold them back. You watched, wide-eyed, as every emotion was easily recognized in Jungguk’s expressive orbs. You watched his lips part, as he searched your face for something you weren’t quite sure of. A slight blush appeared across his cheeks, finding the answer in your eyes.
“Yeah,” Jungguk breathed, burrowing his nose in the crook of your neck. “I…I love you, too.”
- “No, I will not be your lookout while you try to climb into the tank to pet the fishes.”
- “Aww, look at the cute dolphin.” “That’s a manatee.”
- “Are we allowed to touch the fish?”
“What about this one?”
“Ok, what about th-”
- “This is so sweet. I’m glad we came, honey.”
“Ahh, same. This is really ni-”
“LOOK IT’S A PENGUIN. LOOK HOW CUTE!”
- “What’s that there?”
“I don’t know, seaweed probably.”
“I’m pointing to a stingray…”
- “Don’t you love aquariums?” “Yeah, but zoos are better.” “Get out of my sight.”
- “That fish looks so sad.” “Aww, it kind of does.” “Let’s break it out. You distract the guards, I’ll break the tank.”
- “We have to walk by the sharks to go see the penguins.” “But the sharks will break the glass or something. They’re scary.” “How many times do I have to tell you, nothing will happen. Come on, let’s go.” *insert Person A carrying Person B past the sharks while Person B screams*
-“Why are there penguins at an aquarium? They’re not fish.”
“I know it’s kinda weird that an aquarium has birds.”
“Honey, penguins aren’t mammals.” “Since when?”
Request: Hello! How are you? Could I request a Joker x Reader where the he and his friends are arguing about who the most attractive/best with the ladies is and joker ends up betting he can seduce the reader. They fall in love but then reader finds out it was all a bet. Sort of a ‘10 things I hate about you’ scenario haha Thanks lovie
A/N: I COMPLETELY fell in love with this idea this is cute AS FUCK. Part 1 of ??
Pairing: Joker x reader
Summary: Joker makes a bet he can seduce the reader but finds out he’s met his match.
Warnings: Sexual implications? Probably swearing? Joker stuff.
Force Ghost Anakin: [sprawled out across Obi-Wan’s lap, half asleep, watching a blaringly-loud soap opera] Oh man, those two are so hooking up this week. Force Ghost Obi-Wan: [sitting on Luke’s sofa, petting Anakin’s hair, wearing reading glasses and not looking up from reading a book called Betrayal: True Stories of Fallen Apprentices] Uh huh. Force Ghost Yoda: [floating on a nearby throw pillow, knitting] Liked the second season better, I did. Anakin: Yeah, it’s kind of jumped the shark, but I still have to see what happens with my OTP. Luke: [meditating, cracking one eye open] Guys, can you keep it down? I’m trying to commune with the Force. Anakin: We are the Force. Luke: No, dad, I mean the – [stops, looks around] [everyone snaps to attention] Obi-Wan: [removing his glasses] What was that? Luke: [closing his eyes again] I…I think someone’s coming. A girl! Yoda: A new Jedi, you think? Luke: Yeah…whoever it is, they definitely have the Force with them. Anakin: Well…go out there! Introduce yourself! Luke: Should I…should I do something? Obi-Wan: Are there any cliffs with good lighting you could stand on? Anakin: [peering out the window] What’s the wind situation like out there? Yoda: A robe, he needs, for drama. Obi-Wan: [putting one on Luke] Yes, it would never do to go out there without one… Anakin: So what’s your plan, son? Luke: Uh…say “hello, my name is Luke”? [Anakin, Obi-Wan and Yoda look at each other uneasily] Obi-Wan: [dismayed] …”hello, my name is Luke”? Luke: Well, I should greet her, right? I mean, what are you guys suggesting? I just put a hooded cape on and stand outside silently in the wind like a weirdo? And then, what? Dramatically un-hood myself while my hair blows around while remaining totally wordless? Heh…that…that would be… [The Force Ghosts side-eye him] Luke: O-OK, you guys know best. [puts his hood on] Well, wish me luck. [he goes outside to meet Rey] Obi-Wan: [annoyed] You see what happens when I’m not allowed to train someone until they’re an adult? Those are basic Jedi presentation skills! Yoda: A shame, it is. Anakin: [nodding solemnly] Really. I love the kid, but that is disappointing.
A/N: I felt like it’d been a while since I’d written anything that focused on Yoongi, so I really wanted to write something~ I started this a few weeks ago and then got distracted by life and finishing up college for the semester, but I finally finished it so here I am~ Hopefully you all enjoy it lol
Clubs aren’t your thing—but you give them a chance, because
you don’t want to seem like the party pooper amongst your group of friends.
Despite their efforts to get you to show some skin, though, you still end up
walking into the club wearing a tank-top, skinny jeans, and a pair of laced up
high-tops. You weren’t here to be hit on—you didn’t want some creep trying to
slide his hand up your inner thigh. You were here to socialize, down some
drinks to get over your regret of coming, and then hopefully leave with the
first friend in your group who would call it a night.
So, you saddle up to the bar, waving at your friends as they
scuttle out onto the dance floor—all high heels and short skirts. Once they
disappear into the throng of grinding bodies, you spin on your stool, turning
to rest your elbows on the counter top—
…and the bartender is right in front of you. Skinny, but
well rounded—dark hair hanging slightly into his eyes, black button up fitted
to his torso perfectly. His face remains void of any emotion, but when he
catches your surprised stare and the slight part of your lips, he smirks.
“What can I start you with?” he asks, voice deeper than you
had expected, a bit rough, but still clearly heard over the music of the club.
You pause at the question, your mind blanking.
“I…I’ll take a rum and coke, unless you have something
better to give me,” you say, trying to scrape up your remaining shred of
composure. The male cocks an eyebrow, looking a little contemplative.
“You wanna get drunk? Or do you just wanna buzz so you can
still punch the guy that tries to steal your panties? I mean you gotta throw me
a bone here.”
“I don’t even fucking know, man,” you say honestly, leaning
back a little to motion at yourself. “Look at me. I mean—it’s not exactly like
easy access is written all over my jean-clad legs.”
The bartender hums, reaching down to snag a shot glass.
“I’ve been looking at you for a minute or two now and you’re surprising cute
despite the outfit,” he comments, reaching behind him to grab a bottle of Kahlua.
“Clearly you’re not here to let anyone finger you in the back alleyway,
though,” he continues, chuckling when he catches your blush and stunned look.
With skill, he snatches up a bottle of Grand Marnier and
Bailey’s too, layering the liquors in a shot glass with exact precision. When
he’s finished, he gently slides it towards you, meeting your questionable
“It’s good. Sweet liquor for a sweet girl. Take it—it’ll
help you loosen up a little.”
“Are bartenders usually this flirty?” you question him,
downing the shot in one go (because damn this dude is making you warm already).
“Only to those who perk our interest,” he responds, taking
the shot glass from you after you set down. You laugh, feeling somewhat
“Yeah? Should I consider myself lucky then?”
“Depends on your definition of lucky,” he chuckles, eyes
fliting to the side when another couple up the bar slurs for him. Smile
dropping from his lips, he quickly moves around, throwing some ice into a
glass—filling it a third full with rum and the remainder with coke.
“Suck on that till I get back,” he says briefly, sliding it
to you, and you watch him, brows lifted in surprise as he quickly goes to tend
on other patrons.
Taking the cool glass into your hand, you gently swirl the
contents before taking a long sip.
You’re not sure what that bartender is aiming for, playing
with your emotions like this, but…dammit, you really don’t mind.
Ten minutes later, dark and mysterious bartender is back in
front of you, elbow propped on the counter, interest sparking in his irises as
he listens to you ramble about all the things you don’t really like about
clubs. You hadn’t exactly meant to just…open up to him, but…you’re beginning to
think your tolerance is a bit lighter than you had assumed.
“I’m baffled you’re even here,” he muses, refilling your
glass. “It seems like you’d rather be at home, reading a book, or doing some
kind of other dorky, yet cute thing.”
“Right? I don’t
know, man—I wanted to not seem like the boring friend, but even when I’m here
I’m still hiding at the bar,” you say, sighing, and rest your cheek in the palm
of your hand. The bartender breathes a laugh, regarding you thoughtfully.
“You could always go.”
“Yeah, but…,” you begin, eyes flitting up to his, and his
stare has you feeling a bit weak. “You’re here.”
At that, that man pauses, any movement stopping as his eyes
fall from yours, lowering to regard the countertop. You watch him, cheeks hot,
regret sinking in your stomach. Luckily, after a few seconds—instead of walking
away or anything else that could potentially break your heart—he meets your
gaze again and opens his mouth to respond.
…however, just as he does, the same drunk couple form before
shouts for him at the other end of the bar and, sighing, the dark haired male
hurries away. You’re once again left staring after him, hands fidgeting against
your half-downed glass.
What the hell are you doing?
A little less than 20 minutes later—mister dark and
mysterious having somehow disappeared from the bar without you noticing, you
push your finished drink to the side and slide off your stool. You don’t want
to drink anymore—you really don’t want to be here—and now that the flirty, cute
bartender is gone, you’re not quite sure what to do with yourself.
More than anything, you just want to tap out and go home,
but, before you can, one of your friends spots you near the edge of the dance
floor and hurries over. Grabbing your wrist, she tugs you into the mass of
people, and you can’t think to tell her that you’re really not in the mood for
dancing—especially considering that she has already dragged you into the middle
of the action.
So, reluctantly, trying to let any of your worries go (as
well as thoughts of the dark-haired bartender—who you may or may not have
fallen for), you begin dancing with your friends. At first, things go well—you
loosen up a bit, swing your hips, feel the music—but after a few minutes you
feel a pair of hands land on your hips. Glancing down—catching sight of pale,
long fingers—you realize that this isn’t one of your girlfriends.
“Sorry–,” you begin, taking a step forward, trying to let
the person know that you’re not about that tonight—but the fingers only
tighten, and you feel a males chest lightly press against your back.
“You said weren’t about dancing, yet when I stopped by the
bar on my way out for the night and noticed you were gone, I find you out here
on the dance floor,” the deep, familiar voice speaks, and fuck the heat you’d felt before is igniting your blood once more.
“My shift was over. I left to grab my stuff and planned to come
back to the bar to take you home with me, but—”
“I…what??” you say, flushing red, turning your head to try
and face him, but his fingers dig into your waist, holding your still, and his
lips press heatedly against your neck. That has you gasping, grinding back
against him as his teeth and tongue work at your throat.
“My name is Yoongi, by the way,” he says, sucking
particularly hard, and your knees nearly buckle.
“Yoongi,” you repeat, testing the name on your tongue. But
his name alone rolling from your lips has Yoongi growling quietly, one of his
hands sinking lower to grip your ass through your jeans. You bite your lip to
keep from moaning, lifting one of your hands backwards to tug his hair.
“If you were going to take me home then take me already,”
you breathe, grinding your ass back yet again, and before you can gather your
head you’re being pulled off the dance floor, Yoongi’s grip tight on you wrist.
Steve x Reader Smut WC: 1889 Warnings: Swear words, masturbation, oral sex Summary: Reader has a crush on Cap and wonders what he would look (and feel!) like with a beard… AN: I feel like I haven’t been giving Steve enough love lately plus with all the commotion about Cap with a beard, I had to give this a go. Though I will admit, everything is better with a beard…Also, I’m kinda wordy…sorry
It was one of those nights where just the girls were hanging out. It was a rare opportunity and a nice feeling, You were all at various levels of intoxication sitting together around the living room area and conversation flowed as easily as the wine.
“You know, we probably should have made more snacks,” mused Pepper, always looking out for everyone.
Maria and Natasha snorted, “Please,” replied Natasha, “Eating just means less room for wine!” She raised her glass in a toast, “To us!”
“Ugh, what’s with this lumberjack look?” commented Maria, while flipping through the pages of a magazine. “Whatever happened to clean shaven, respectable looking men?”
“Now now,” Pepper scolded her, “Goatees are pretty sexy,” she smirked.
“That’s because a goatee is groomed, but a beard? Yuck,” Maria retorted.
“I don’t know,” you chimed in. “I’m of the personal philosophy that a beard makes everything better.”
Natasha nodded in agreement. “I think some men just suit beards… Though I suppose the true test is if they look good with a beard and without one.”
Maria disagreed, “But beard burn? Eww. I’m a grown-ass lady. I don’t need evidence of my necking.”
You laughed at her, “First of all, how old are you? Who says necking? Secondly, I dunno… there’s something about the roughness of it… All scratchy and manly.” You could feel yourself blushing, as if you had said too much.
Just then, the guys entered the room. You were fairly certain that they hadn’t heard any of the previous conversation. You took a long swallow of your drink, hoping it would cool you off.
The topic of conversation turned to the upcoming mission. You were one of the two remaining behind as your particular skills weren’t needed so you didn’t really pay attention to the conversation. Instead, you casually observed your friends, one in particular, until Natasha elbowed you.
“You’re staring,” she muttered to you.
You felt yourself turn red again. Apparently you weren’t as casual as you thought you were.
Leaning into you, she whispered, “I wonder what Cap would look like with a beard.”
For @profound-boning because I keep bullying her into writing fics for me. So have some dadstiel + dean in glasses.
Fun fact: babies love glasses.
Dean and Cas weren’t aware of this bit of trivia until Claire came into their lives. Dean picked her up for the first time and nearly combusted with the sweet smile the blue-eyed girl gave him before her fat little fists came up to wrap around his frames and pull them from his face.
And it became their Thing. Any time Dean was holding Claire, he lost his glasses to the little girl. She liked to wave them around or chew on them and occasionally throw them at the cat.
Cas warned Dean he shouldn’t let her get in that habit. And sure enough Claire was soon ripping glasses off the face of anyone who was in arm’s reach of her.
The first time Claire breaks Dean’s glasses, Cas gives what Dean assumes is an “I told you so” look. But he’s not sure. He can’t see.
He goes through a few more pairs in the course of their first year with Claire before it’s decided that it would be easier to switch to contacts.
Fast forward a few years, Claire is in first grade. She grew out of her glasses-wrangling phase a while back but Dean’s grown so accustomed to contacts he doesn’t switch back. Plus, he no longer looks like a total loser at work wearing goggles over his glasses.
But one day Claire gets sent home with a note from her teacher. She’s having difficulty seeing the board even from the front row.
Dean and Cas make an appointment with the eye doctor for the next week. They reassure a nervous Claire that everything will be fine but their little girl will leave that doctor’s office in tears.
“I don’t wanna wear glasses!” she cries when they get home. “I’ll look ugly!”
“Oh, honey, no,” Cas says and strokes her hair. “You’re beautiful and glasses won’t change that.”
“Garth wears glasses and all the other kids make fun of him! What if they tease me too?” She starts to cry harder.
“Isn’t that the funny kid with the sock puppet?” Dean wonders and promptly shuts up when Cas shoots him a look. “Hey, look, kiddo. No one is gonna make fun of you for just wearing glasses. There’s nothing wrong with them. They’re just a tool to help you see. And if someone does say something, sock ‘em in the-”
“You’re kidding, right?” Were the only words you could summon, your voice a small pained whisper. You shook your head violently, frowning in complete disbelief. He had to be lying. He had to be.
“I wish I was.” Jimin chuckled humourlessly before sighing, his small warm hands finding their way to your shoulder to rub soothing patterns across your skin.
“I-, I don’t believe you…” You whispered, utterly heartbroken upon your recent discovery.
“I never wanted you to know-, I’ve kept this from you for so long, I couldn’t risk anybody knowing about you…” Jimin explained further, his handsome face contorted with disappointment and guilt. “You’re my only weakness Y/N. I can’t stand the thought of something happening to you-“
“Stop.” You waved your hand in front of his face animatedly as you tried to come to terms with the situation. “None of this is real… This isn’t happening right now.” You broke down, sobbing into your hands as your brother pulled you tightly into his toned chest, smoothing out your hair with his fingers.
“Shh, hey-, I didn’t want to believe it either. But that’s the truth I swear to you.” Jimin sighed, he’d always wanted to hide this part of himself in front of you, but it was too late to keep up the charade now. “I’m sorry I lied to you.”
Your entire life was a lie. Everything you were told, everything you believed, everything you knew… It was all manufactured. How could your brother do this to you? He went behind your back and continued your fathers dirty work. The apparent prostitutes, drug deals, and all of the other illegal activities that went on inside the house didn’t phase you half as much as the truth about your parents. Their death was no accident, Jimin believed that their plane was hijacked by a rival gang, and has dedicated the past five years to finding the truth; wanting nothing more than justice for your parents. That’s what hurt the most, all this time he’d kept you ignorant to the truth. You had no idea just how fucked up and dysfunctional your relationship really was.
“Did they… Kill people?” You asked, referring to your parents, almost shuddering at the words you never thought would leave your lips.
“She didn’t, but he did… Fuck. I’m so sorry you found out… Especially like this.” Jimin wiped away a stray tear that had fallen onto his cheek, his face pink and puffy from crying while his bottom lip still quivered with sadness.
“What about you? Do you…” You inhaled, locking eyes with him. “Kill people?”
Jimin stared at you in genuine shock, his mouth ajar as he began blinking rapidly, nervously trying to conjure the right words to say. “I uh… Yes.”
i would literally give up my firstborn child for another genderswap au bcos jane potter is so hot im deadt
Jane, flirting, tells him his hair looks like a carrot fucked a fire hydrant.
“Charming.” Liam says.
“This is the part where you say something back and we verbally spar.” She responds, leaning with one muddy soccer boot up against the side of the library. McGonagall would have a fit. He puts his hands in his pockets and pretends to look at the street.
“Not today it isn’t.”
“C’mon,” she grins, ducking her head so her hair falls forward. “You’re making me feel bad. You’ve got to say something back otherwise it’s like bullying.”
“What do you mean ‘like’ bullying.”
“Please. If it was real bullying I would have your lunch money.”
“I don’t bring lunch money.”
“Good thing I’m not bullying you then.” She says, cheerfully, and he laughs. It appears halfway through this conversation he got bored with pretending to look at the road and has started actively staring at her again. He turns back.
“Your hair looks like you shoved a fork into a toaster.” He says, and she laughs now.
“’Knew you’d give in. Now we’re both bullying each other.”
He looks back at her. “I thought you said it wasn’t bullying.”
She smirks, soccer uniform covered in mud from making unnecessary slides across the pitch every time she makes a goal, which is often enough that he can see grass burn bleeding on her knees. He’s going to ask if she needs a bandage, and then she quirks her eyebrow at him, and he cannot for the life of him remember his name.
“Evans, you are aware I can see you ogling my legs.” Liam’s head snaps back to the street.
“I wasn’t ogling.”
“You bloody were.”
“I don’t ogle.”
“Fine. Staring. Gazing. Gawking, if you will.”
“Liam Evans, staring at my legs in front of everybody”
“There is no one else here.“
“You were ogling.” She pushes off the wall, arms folded and still smirking, advancing on him. “Perfectly understandable really, they are, dare I say it, the best legs this side of London.”
He scoffs, looking at the sky and not at her. “You’re so full of it.”
“I can’t help having great legs any more than you can help having hair that looks like a red traffic light threw up on Amy Adams.”
“Whose Amy Adams?” he feigns ignorance.
“I know you know who fucking Amy Adams is.”
He swings back on his heels. “Hmm, can’t say I do, but you had better watch your potty mouth or I’m going to report you to McGonagall.” He’s looking at her again. God goddammit.
“Minnie loves me.” She’s almost right next to him now, a good head shorter, bag over her shoulder, knees still bleeding. Her glasses are cracked in the left corner.
“She won’t once I tell her how you’ve been bullying me.” He says, and she smiles. The wind blows slightly, and God, she’s fucking pretty. His fingers itch to touch her jawline, the base of her throat, her cheekbone. There is always too much space between them.
“You know the library closes at six.” She breathes, looking at him, “and my practice ends at six-thirty.”
“I have no idea what you mean.” He lies, ridiculously.
“I mean,” her breath hitches, “You wait the extra half hour to see me.”
He wants to do something dumb, like kiss her or kiss her again, but she’s far too clever and pretty and he would have no idea where to put his hands. The world is impossibly still. His heart is thudding loud enough she must be able to hear it.
A car screeches into the street and reels up next to them, almost clipping the curb. “Potter!” Sarah Black sticks her head out the window and yells to be heard over the radio, “if you get mud on my seats again I’ll punch you in the tit!” Spotting Liam, she nods and takes a drag on her cigarette, “Evans. You’re here again.”
“Well spotted.” He croaks, trying to act normal and doing a bad job. Potter’s arm brushes against his on the way to the car and he shudders.
“Wanna lift?” Sarah asks, and he shakes his head. Jane stares at him through the passenger window, and he stares back. The only reason he comes to the library is to kill time before her practice ends. He would wait in the rain if he had to.
“Amy Adams was in Enchanted.” He blurts out, and Potter grins. He’s so far gone it’s embarrassing. He would do anything to make her look like that.
Black gives him a weird look. “Don’t take too many drugs on school grounds, Evans, Minnie doesn’t like you nearly as much as she likes me.” She peels away, almost taking out a letterbox in the process, and he starts walking home, thinking about how she has practice tomorrow, and the grass burns on her knees, and the way her breath hitches when she stands to close to him.
The streetlamps go on, and in the harsh light she roars into his head, laughing, covered in mud, a dream girl unbelievably rooted in reality.
you look important… or at least your suit does.
statements like that can get you into a lot of trouble around here.
make yourself comfortable, why don’t you.
you’re wasting your time. i haven’t seen him for 18 years.
if i had 15 minutes, we’d drink tea, eat biscuits; i’d talk, you’d laugh, and we’d be on our way.
are they still following us?
when you hear something that sounds like a gunshot, drive.
you can’t be serious.
excuse me dear, i just need to use your back door.
what’s that? it smells like feet.
how long was your prison sentence?
don’t ever make the calamitous error of mistaking my deliberate short-sightedness for blindness.
look at ‘em. merrily oblivious as we labor tirelessly to save them from extinction and not even a ‘thank-you.’
don’t kill your partner on your first day.
i’m sure you understand humiliation better than most.
my woman would never wear anything like that.
you can’t put a paco rabanne belt on a patou.
and remember… take it like a pussy.
not very good at this whole ‘subtlety’ thing, are you?
either you start to look like you know what you’re doing, or i’m out of here.
would you like a bigger glass?
no fun dancing by yourself; i need a partner.
don’t you make me put you over my knee.
so you don’t want to dance… but you do want to wrestle.
i like my women strong.
now we are engaged. again.
i am neither a goat, nor your sister, so… get your hands off me.
i’m okay, i think.
i’ve been on a diet, my dear. just caviar and champagne for three weeks.
you see, each one of us has a destiny… and i believe i can help you with yours.
you can see the future?
i can see us having lunch tomorrow. alone.
darling, time to go.
they had it coming.
you need to control your temper.
i think he’s an athletic, good-looking gazillionaire, who’s offered me a job and made advances towards me.
i quite like him.
i don’t know what you’re upset about, you’re not even my fiance!
the thing is… i work better alone.
i’m not leaving.
and what, exactly, did you do to him?
just shut up and watch me work.
it’s going to be okay.
i’ll be close by.
help yourself to a drink.
so sorry to keep you waiting.
i thought i was doing so well.
the fault doesn’t lie in your performance.
she seemed so innocent.
i’m so sorry i can’t stay to finish you off myself.
man has only two masters in this world, and their names are pain and fear.
i never thought i’d say this, but i’m actually quite pleased to see you.
it’s okay. i would have done exactly the same thing in your position.
Request Summary:a one shot where u catch Negan wearing his glasses to read while he’s at his desk in his room and he quickly takes em off and attempts to hide them cuz he’s kind of embarrassed of them but u quickly sit on his lap grabbing them from him and slipping em back on telling him how hot he is with them on while giving him pleasure
You were digging through the commissary, looking for a book to read. Nothing.
Every single book had already been taken. You were sad because you had saved up all your points to buy one. You were incredibly bored lately and needed a way to escape.
“What are you looking for?” A woman working at the commissary asked you.
“A book, but it looks like they’re all gone,” you looked down sadly.
“Maybe Negan will let you borrow one?” the woman suggested with a hopeful smile.
She knew Negan liked you. Everyone knew. Negan had asked you to be his wife the day you met, but you turned him down. He didn’t like hearing no, and would still remind you everyday that the offer was still available. You just couldn’t bring yourself to become one of his many wives. You especially couldn’t marry a man as intimidating as Negan. He carried a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire, which he specifically used to bash in heads. He scared you, but he was also very attractive, and a little part of you did want him.
“Negan has books?” you tilted your head, pulling yourself out of your thoughts.
“Yeah, a whole damn library by now! He always snatches books from here. I don’t think he even reads ‘em!” the woman huffed.
Hmmm… so Negan is hoarding a collection of books. He didn’t seem like the sharing type, but maybe just this once, he’d let you take a book.
Request (summarized): Can i request one, where dean and the reader used to date but Dean turned into a demon and Sam asks for the reader’s help? They find out about a strip club that he visits regularly and reader pretends to be a stripper that doesn’t know Dean. He asks for a private show and urges her to admit that she’s the reader who denies it, but tells him a story of how she used to date this one guy, but they broke up and she is dating his brother now to make Dean jealous, ending up in smut?
You were sitting on the couch waiting for Chanyeol to get home in your shared apartment. You knew he was going to be awhile when he said he’d be out with his pack. In the mean time, you decided to watch some Netflix. It wasn’t until two hours later that you started to worry about him. The members of his pack weren’t all the smartest and Baekhyun always seemed to be getting them into trouble. Just as that thought crossed your mind, your apartment door flew open, and in walked a very tattered Chanyeol.
“What the hell happened!” You questioned nervously. You ran up to him to further inspect his wounds. His mouth was bleeding, he has cuts all over his arms and face, and it looked like someone tried to take a chunk out of his right leg.
“Nothing happened. I’m fine” he huffed while walking past you into the kitchen. You had no idea what was going on with him at this point. He never acted like this. You walked into the kitchen to find him drinking a glass of water and looking at you with a sharp gaze.
“Please Chanyeol. Just tell me what happened” you barely spoke, not wanting to make him angry. Before you could even finish your sentence, he slammed the glass down on the counter making you flinch.
“You wanna know what happened baby? Alright.” He started walking towards you until your back was flat against the wall. “Some guy from another pack made a joke that he could fuck you better than I could. He said that I don’t deserve a mate like you” he admitted with a stern voice. He leaned closer so that you could feel his hot breath on your ear while his hand traveled down to the waistband of your pyjama shorts. “What do you think baby, do I need to fuck you better? Have I been too gentle with you?” He whispered in your ear.
“N-no” you stuttered. You could feel your arousal growing in your panties. This was definitely a new side of Chanyeol that you liked a lot.
He moved his mouth down to your neck and started to nip your skin. You let out a soft moan as you felt his hand slide your shorts and panties down your legs.
“Chanyeol please, do something” you begged. He gave you a smirk as he tapped his finger on your clit.
“Someone’s eager. Tell me what you want baby” he replied while slowly rubbing your clit.
“Please..fuck me” you moaned shamelessly. With that he picked you up and carried you to the bedroom where he threw you on the bed. For a minute he just stood at the edge of the bed staring at you. You began to grow nervous. “Chanyeol.. what’s gotten into you” you sounded more scared than you would have liked to.
“It’s mating season, baby.” He slowly crawled on the bed until he was on top of you. “ I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t even remember your name”. Everything was happening so fast. His lips were suddenly on yours and you could taste the blood from his cut as he forced his tongue in your mouth. You mewled into the kiss as you felt his rough hands rip open the buttons of your shirt, exposing your breasts. Cupping them in both hands, he took one nipple into his mouth, sucking on it roughly.
“Ah” you gasped. He moved to the other nipple and started to bite it. You winced slightly in pain. He suddenly moved down so that his face was centimetres away from your core. His hot breath made you shiver. He quickly looked up at you to flash you a grin before licking a long stipe along your slit.
“Baby you taste so good” he moaned against your clit. The sudden sensation making you whine. He started to roughly tongue fuck you as his nose hit your clit repeatedly. You let out a long moan while arching your back. Soon the pleasure because too much as he replaced his tongue with two fingers, going in and out of you at a rapid pace. You were a mess at this point and all you could do is moan his name over and over like a mantra.
“Ch-chanyeol I can’t.. please….it’s too much” you panted, trying to squirm away from him. He didn’t stop, he only went faster. Making sure to curl his fingers up with every thrust. He used his other hand to press you hips harder into the bed so you were trapped. He moved his focus back to your clit and sucked hard making you let out a scream. All of a sudden your body felt like it was on fire, from your head to your toes, it was like an electric shock. Your vision started to go black as your breath became more ragged and you started to buck your hips into his face. No noise was even coming out of your mouth as it hang open, Chanyeol milking the last of your orgasm as best he could by moving his head from side to side. As soon as it came, it was gone. Your vision returned back to normal and so did your breathing. You looked down at Chanyeol who was now naked, your juices covering his mouth and chin. The head of his cock was red and covered in pre cum. You knew this was far from over. No matter how wrecked you already were, you wanted him so fucking badly.
“Are you ready for me baby?” His voice sounding deeper than usual.
“Yes. Yes I’m so ready” you half moaned. He was now slowly stroking his cock. The sight making you more aroused than before.
“Get on your hands and knees for me princess. I wanna see that pretty ass of yours while I fuck you” he commanded. You eagerly complied. Swaying your ass from side to side with anticipation.
“Good girl” he gave your left cheek a harsh slap. “Always so eager for my cock”. You let out a long moan as you felt the head of his shaft sink in to your pussy. He didn’t give you much time to adjust before quickly thrusting into you. His grip on your hips was like iron as his cock slammed into you.
“How do I feel baby? Does my cock feel good?” He moaned while delivering another slap to your other cheek.
“Oh god.. yes! Chanyeol more please i need more” you gasped in between breaths. He waisted no time flipping you over and thrusting back into you. This time creating an angle that made him hit your g spot with every movement. With one hand he reached up to your neck, slightly choking you. The sudden loss of oxygen making everything more pleasurable. With the other hand, he moved it down to rub your clit, making you arch your back up into his chest.
“You’re mine” he exclaimed. “You belong to me and only me. Do you understand that?” He removed his hand from your throat hoping for an audible response but all you could do is nod. The familiar tightening feeling returning to your stomach. He could tell you were close and this only made him speed up, becoming too much for you.
“Chanyeol…I’m gunna cu-cum” you stammered while dragging your nails along his back. He let out a growl applying more pressure to your clit and rubbing as fast as he could.
“Look at me when you cum” he grabbed your face. “I want to scream my name so everyone knows who you belong to”.
You tried as hard as you could to keep your eyes open as your orgasm ripped through your body.
“Chanyeol oh my god!” You screamed. You had never felt anything this intense before. Your whole body started to shake and your screams became inaudible as your pussy clenched around Chanyeol’s cock, making him cum inside of you. He began to slow down his thrusts as he rode both you through your orgasms. Eventually he pulled out of you and flopped onto the bed beside you. A few moments later he quickly got up to get a wet wash cloth from the bathroom. He returned and carefully spread your legs apart so he could clean you and slip a clean pair of panties on you. He discarded the cloth in the laundry bin before climbing back into bed and pulling the soft duvet over both your bodies.
“Baby?” He broke the silence.
“Hmm” you hummed in response, still knocked out from your orgasms.
“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” The tone in his voice had completely changed at this point and you could tell that he was concerned. You mustered up all the energy you had left and turned towards him, opening your eyes.
“Can I tell you a secret?” You asked while giving him a peck on the nose. He nodded with wide eyes. “I really enjoyed it” you smiled. The nervousness written on his face quickly faded away and was replaced by his bright smile that you love so much.
“I guess I’ll have to do this more often then”.
Thank you to the anon who requested this! It’s my first time writing smut so hopefully it wasn’t too bad. I’ll definitely try harder in the future for you guys 😙 please let me know what you think or leave me a request ☺️