looking down below

xxthelittlefawnxx  asked:

It was pouring down rain, making the night even darker by blocking out the moon. Quinn limped down the sidewalk, stumbling across the park and decided to get some shelter under one of the trees. She was covered in cuts and wounds, she'd just happened to stumbled upon something st the wrong place and wrong time. Starting to inspect her injuries she hissed in pain as her hand ghosted over a particularly tender spot, but she was mostly worried about her stitches.

Dark was taking another one of his late night walks when it started to rain, he didn’t have an umbrella or rain coat with him so he simply began walking home. He eventually walked to the park, a sign that he was almost home, when he noticed the smell of blood in the air. “Strange” he muttered, looking down at the concrete below his feet to see a trail of blood, leading to a small clearing with a few trees, on closer inspection he saw a small crouched figure under the shelter of the tree so he decided to approach slowly.

4

She went back to the window, Needle in hand, and looked down into the courtyard below. If only she could climb like Bran, she thought; she would go out the window and down the tower, run away from this horrible place, away from Sansa and Septa Mordane and Prince Joffrey, from all of them. Steal some food from the kitchens, take Needle and her good boots and a warm cloak. She could find Nymeria in the wild woods below the Trident, and together they’d return to Winterfell, or run to Jon on the Wall. She found herself wishing that Jon was here with her now. Then maybe she wouldn’t feel so alone.

I'm Yours (NSFW)

Originally posted by wandamaixmoff

Imagine: Newt gets jealous of all the male attention you had gotten on a night out, becoming frustrated he shows you who knows you best. 

Author’s Note: Okay, real talk, if you were in a relationship with Newt I think he would be confident and cocky as fuck. Anyhow, tell me what ya liked, what ya didn’t. Cheers legends, also 1,500 of you guys actually like me so that’s questionable. Also this is the first smut I’ve ever written so don’t be mean, I don’t think it’s that great but I wanna hear what you think!

Word Count: 1483

Tagging: @embracingtheinnerweaboo @radicalmeghan @ladytevans07 @full-on-whovian @superlalka228 @theuniversebeyondtherain @scarletdarkholme @rock-n-magick @whossmr @kipisz @jinxkatkazama @hamilsyd704 @that1awkwardfangirl @allnewtsbeasts @itsleviosa14 @choconim @pygmy-puff-fluff @awesomenessfeet @awkward-ari-1731 @wehavecometoanend-maybe @fuckincringe @foxie-monster @tumbleweedtheproxy @winter-patrick @corazon-ya @annaoben @devilsgeek @deanskitten @angel-hunter-winchester @tsuki-okami @filonewts @ofxmicexandxmanda 

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anonymous asked:

Harry letting you ride his face and he's pressing you down onto his mouth to get you closer and he's properly moaning and smacking your ass.

This..,.,.,.this is an attack..,.,.

Just imagine you guys are laying back on your king bed, facing the flat screen TV across the room and locked in a heated match of Mario Kart. Harry’s clad in an old, scuffed up pair of black denim jeans and the yellow smiley face t-shirt he nearly wore to shreds back in Jamaica. His socks are mismatched (one has a fuchsia background with tiny flamingos all over it– this sock is actually yours– and the other is a plain black Nike ankle-high) and his pants are unbuttoned, hair fluffy and somewhat tamed since you’d just gotten home from a movie date.

He’s been gunning for you since the match started, storing away shells for just the right moment to knock you right off the track. Every time a turtle smacks the back bumper of your tiny vehicle, you let out a screech, which he returns with a smug grin and maniacal, triumphant little giggles.

When it’s come down to the two of you at the front, you randomly start to kick at his feet and legs, trying to topple him off the bed and distract him just enough to end him once and for all. But Harry can play dirty, too, resulting in him rolling onto you and crushing you under his weight as he looks over his shoulder, aiming the controller over his head and using this advantage to the max.

“Harry, stop it! That’s not fair!” You buck under him, shoulders thrashing as you try to free your arms to at least keep moving in the game.

“You started it!” He aims a bomb at you, dangling the remote above your head and tapping his finger threateningly over the release button. “Sorry, pet. Gonna have to try harder than that.”

You kick at his knees violently, wailing out in defeat when you feel your controller shudder and let out the sound that signifies you lost.

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anonymous asked:

Dude, requests are back up, awesome! How about DAI companions + Krem de la creme reacting to the inquisitor being one of the last avian folk?(Like, they have big ass wings, so they always wear an even bigger cloak to hide them, and during battle somehow, they end up losing the cloak? They can legit fly with them)

Cassandra: She stares and stares before angrily demanding to know why they hid this from her. They sheepishly explain their situation, and she calms down, but it doesn’t change the fact they hid it. When she eventually gets over it, she sometimes just sits and watches them fly around (which they do for fun; they’re actually sort of relieved to be revealed for this reason). It makes her nervous, at first, worrying they’ll suddenly drop, but she’s awed by how agile and graceful they are in the sky. Once or twice, they have to pick her up and drop her somewhere else, and it makes her nervous every time they pick her up, and she hates how helpless she feels suspended in the air. If Romanced: Sometimes he takes her flying for no reason other than a good time. She likes it significantly more than non-romanced flying. Eventually, they’ll land, and have a quiet, serene place to sit together while she listens to him recite poetry.

Blackwall: He stares. That’s all he can do as he gawks with a slack jaw for a long time. He has no words– trying for speech just results in helpless sputtering. The man stands aside as the others fuss and try to make sense of the situation, and speaks last. He gets over it, though, once he hears the story, and doesn’t mind at all. “They’re like a pair of griffon wings,” he admires, “powerful and fast.” If the Herald can lift him up, it makes him supremely uncomfortable the first time they take him into the sky, but he finds that he thinks it’s fun. If Romanced: He regularly compliments her on how beautiful her wings are, and he tries to help itch and clean the spots she can’t reach easily. He brings her flowers that grow all the way up on a mountainside, and she gently teases him and says she could just fly him up there. “No, my lady,” he refuses, “it’s not the same if all the work’s taken out of it. You shouldn’t waste your time helping me get you flowers; let me do the work.”

Iron Bull: After getting past the initial shock, he’s utterly green with envy. It looks like SO MUCH FUN, taking off like a dragon to the skies. The Herald tries to pick him up (to no avail, he’s too heavy) to give him the experience of flying, so he takes it upon himself to make them stronger and faster, so they can. Push-ups with wings, laps around Skyhold, timing their speed of flight, you name it. “Just wait. You’ll go back to your people and fly circles around them! When you can finally lift me up, you can air-drop me on the enemies for an attack from above! It’s gonna be great!” If romanced: Hot. He’s 100% into this. He snickers if any feathers get ruffled or fall off after sex. “Did I ruffle your feathers, Kadan?” he teases, and he just laughs as they slap him with a wing. He ties one of the feathers that fall off to the dragontooth necklace, as long as they don’t mind.

Sera: She’s freaked out and utterly shocked. She has no idea how to react, so she just stares for a long time, sputtering helplessly. She feels bad later at how upset they seemed at her facial expression. “Aw, shite… well, your feathery ass is welcome here, alright?” she reassures. She likes tossing things at them when they’re flying to see if they can catch it, and it becomes a sort of game/exercise routine. She also talks them into using their wings to prank others. She screams the first time they pick her up and take her into the sky, but soon she realizes she likes it, so long as she trusts the Herald. Sometimes she’ll ask to be taken with them, because she thinks it’s exhilarating– and a few times, shoots arrows at people from above while the Herald carries her. “Death from above! Arrows from the sky! I even have a source of feathers for fletching at any moment! Hah!” A few times, if she needs them, she’ll just pluck a feather clean off if there’s none lying around, and sticks her tongue out as the Herald protests. “What? You still got a lot of ‘em. Your wings are huge!” Also jokingly refers to wings/feathers sticking out as “wingboners.” If Romanced: She likes tickling her wings and playing with her feathers, and sleeping under a wing when they’re in bed together. “They’re soft. And fuzzy. And cute.” she gushes. She also learns how to preen the feathers, and takes to doing so regularly out of affection, at least in the areas her girlfriend can’t reach with ease. She typically finishes it off by taking a feather or two that falls off to keep for herself.

Varric: “Holy Mother of Andraste’s ass.” he breathes, taking it all in. He comes around quickly, though, and asks a lot of questions– though few on anatomy, unlike Dorian, and more on who they are, where they come from, and about their people. He’s fascinated, and taking notes. Sometimes when he’s out of writing quills, he wryly asks them if he can take one of theirs– or may just take one if they drop off from time-to-time. He’s not a fan of going into the sky, at all. “You know, I like the idea of getting as far away from the Stone as possible,” he says nervously as he looks down at the world below, “but this is a bit too far. Dwarves don’t fly.”

Cole: He knew, and he doesn’t mind in the least. “I am sorry. The others know, and they want to help. They don’t mind the wings.” He also comments that the others are happy while watching the Herald fly, and the Inquisitor takes to doing small shows on a regular basis for the crowd at Skyhold, which always draws large numbers. Everyone is cheered by the amazing sight of them in the sky, and morale goes up. People start sitting and waiting for hours before the show starts. Cole smiles– they helped.

Dorian: About five million questions start flying from his lips as soon as he’s out of the initial shock. How fast can you fly? How many feathers do you have? What’s the bone structure of your wings? Can you stick one straight out so I can measure how long it is? Where are your people from? Why are you the only one out here? It makes them more than a little uncomfortable, and he feels bad when he realizes how uncomfortable they are. “Oh.” he says, suddenly quiet. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… if you need to talk, let me know?” He loves watching them soar through the sky, and he takes notes as he watches. He considers them and their wings utterly beautiful, and he feels honored to know them and witness their flight. He does not particularly care for going in the air, though, citing a sudden fear of extreme heights as he clings to the Herald, trying desperately to not look down. If Romanced: He loves preening his lover’s feathers, because it’s hard for them to reach behind and get them clean. He finishes it all with a kiss. He feels so safe under his boyfriend’s wings as they lay together, and he silently smirks as he imagines his father’s reaction to seeing his boyfriend.

Vivienne: She has to work to hide her complete and utter shock, and briefly scolds the Herald for not telling her before. When they’re comfortable, she examines their wings in detail. She figures out a grooming regimen. “Darling, everyone knows what you are now– there’s no point in hiding your wings any longer.” She smiles. “So use them. Preen them. Take the time and effort to make them presentable. You will be imposing, awe-inspiring, beautiful, majestic, and everyone will know it with a single glance.” She introduces them to her tailor, who manages to make them outfits that accommodate the wings– even accentuate them. Vivienne does not like being taken into the sky, but tolerates it if necessary in combat.

Solas: Their people were known to the ancient Elvhen, but their numbers were in slow decline– he’s honestly surprised that there’s any still around at all. He’s sympathetic to them, and surprises them by being the least shocked of any of the party members. He claims that he has seen their people before in the Fade, and suddenly the other party members are coming to him, asking for information. When he shakes them off, he mentions to the Herald that they shouldn’t hide their wings, for they are beautiful and proof of their ancient people. He asks them a lot of questions about the current state of their race, about their society, which befuddles the Herald. He doesn’t seem to mind being lifted into the air, if need be, and may even ask the Herald to carry him to places inaccessible by walking alone. If Romanced: They spend dates just finding places that only winged creatures can reach, and they look over the world together. They slumber and see memories previous unexplored by the remote location, and Solas feels genuine happiness that someone can understand the value of unexplored dreams. “Thank you, ma vhenan. Thank you…”

Cullen: He just sighs. Somehow this doesn’t even shock him. Maybe he’s seen too much. He’s a bit frustrated that they didn’t tell him to begin with, but lets it go readily. He asks if they know any others of their kind who would be interested in joining the Inquisition– flying soldiers would be excellent– and finds himself bewildered as they tell him that the vast majority of their people are shy and mistrustful of land-dwellers. He apologizes, and does not press the matter further. He enjoys watching them fly, and compliments them on their ability, but absolutely hates being taken off the ground and into the sky in any circumstances. If Romanced: He’s somewhat more tolerant of being taken into the sky, but he still doesn’t like it. Sometimes when he’s having bad dreams, he awakens as one of her wings gently folds over him, covering him softly, affectionately, and his heart rate slows. He’s safe, and she loves him, and he feels it. He goes back to sleep in peace, happy with what he has and who he loves.

Leliana: She’s just envious, if anything; she wouldn’t mind being able to fly. She was wondering what they were hiding, and found several stray feathers (which may or may not be in unusual colors) from time-to-time, and this explains it. She takes it pretty calmly, and asks if they know any others of their kind that might be willing to join as agents, or even airborne couriers. If the Herald ever takes her into the sky, she acts totally calm, but she LOVES it, even though she doesn’t say so.

Josephine: She’s at a loss. She tries to quickly compose herself and awkwardly make sense of the situation, but once the shock wears off, she’s endlessly curious about being able to fly. She watches them zip through the sky with grace and speed and is utterly mesmerized. Like Vivienne, she encourages a strict preening regimen– if they’re going to have wings, they might as well make them presentable. Eventually, the Herald offers to take her flying, and she squeals with a mix of delight and a bit of fright. Her hair blows loosely, and the wind’s on her face, and by the time the Herald brings her back down, she’s dazed and eager for the next time they fly together. If Romanced: They take her flying with them all the time, and it makes for interesting dates. She giggles and squeals (and on one occasion, screams as they do a loop with her in their arms) and has the time of her life. They always end it by landing somewhere picturesque, and they sit together, cuddling and admiring the world around them.

Krem: “Your… your Worship?” he asks, shocked, not sure if he’s seeing correctly, or if Bull’s pulling a prank like that time they all covered themselves with feathers– but no, it’s really them. If they don’t mind, he asks them questions about flying, and remarks that the Chargers would love having one of their kind on the team, if they know anyone looking for work. Sometimes he tosses his stuffed winged nug plushies at them from the ground, and they catch, not unlike the game played with Sera. He really likes flying, and admires the view of the world below.

Shoutouts to people who like winter and cold weather.

  • Because it’s tiresome being stared at like you grew an extra head when you say as much
  • Because countless people can say “I’m so glad spring is right around the corner!” and be praised with endless agreement, but I’m asked what’s wrong with me if I express the same thing about winter
  • Because the maintenance guy came in to fix something in my apartment, took one look at my thermostat, and wouldn’t believe me when I said there’s nothing wrong with my heater because it’s 65°F in my apartment and I’m happy 
  • Because if there’s a disagreement over the temperature, the person who likes the cold will always be outvoted 5 to 1
  • Because summer and the warmer days of autumn are mourned for their passing but winter’s end is celebrated
  • Because our endless discomfort in the summer is overlooked and brushed off because why wouldn’t we love this hot weather
  • Because winter is never long enough, summer is always too long, and no one will agree with you
Loving you has been no small feat. It’s no different than someone climbing Mount Everest, hoping to make it to the top and aching with every step they take. But I keep going even knowing this could break me, as much as it’s put me back together. And if I ever get myself to the peak I know I’ll either enjoy the view, soaking in all the beauty that remains.. or I’ll let out a deep sigh, look down below with tears in my eyes and jump from the ledge.
—  Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #63
Two Hours ‘Till Kendrick

YOURS: AN ETHAN DOLAN ONE SHOT SERIES

Warning: smut

Author’s Note: thank you everyone who has been so nice and encouraging to me as a writer. I love writing and I love Ethan and all of you have made this this a fun little safe haven for me. I can’t say thank you enough. Drop me a message or an ask. I love talking with you! Now here’s a little Coachella Ethan, kinda, sorta.


“Remember when Ethan gave you fake flowers for Easter?” Cameron spoke dryly, knowing fully well Ethan was only a few feet behind her, leaning against the doorframe and nibbling on a plate of pancakes. You were sitting in front of a mirror curling your hair.

You looked at her through the reflection, a smile stretching at your lips. You went to speak, but were cut off by your obnoxious boyfriend who still spoke with his mouth full no matter how many times you told him it was rude and unbecoming of him.

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You Get What You Give (Long Distance)

Requested: Yes

Summary: Where Harry’s just begun his solo career and performing is everything that he’s ever dreamed of; he can’t help but feel so alone sometimes though. Feeling as though everyone has someone, and he’s so out of the loop with his love life that it brings an imbalance. However, you can’t take everything and expect to give nothing in return or for everything to be ok for forever.

Word Count: 1,700

Pairing: Harry Styles x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Desperation, Reference to sex, Loneliness, Cursing

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2


Where, oh where could Jackaboy be?

                                                              ͝W̸h̕y, ̀o̴h͝ ͜why can̛'t҉ we͟ ́s͘eé?

T̶h̵e ̵bo̡y,̕ t͜h̶e̡ c͟hild,̕ he͝ ́c̴a̷m͝e̶ b̶àc̴k̢ to̕ ̧li͝fe                                                 

             ,͏̱A҉̖f̞͓̗̭͇̰t͉̥͍̪͕̥͍èr̗̺͉̮͖̀ ̺͖t̴̮̰̟̱͉̞h̩͓̲͉͍̼̪͢ey̡ ͍̝̘g͎̳̬͉͢o̭̼͚͢ͅuge̺̟̤̗͕̪d͓̗͎̻̬̹ ͈̖̯h͔̖i̟̞͇̰͇s̳͔̪ ̘ț̵̙h̘̳̦̻͞r͙̮̼͇̲o̱̘͈a̴̗t͜ wi̙̺̠̞t͍̣̯ḫ̸̭̬͇̯̼ ҉̗͕͓̣͇ͅa͇̪̣̮ ̻̪̱̙k̙͔̮n̟̜̖̳͜i̕ͅf̱è

̠̙̼̥                              ̵͐̔͌ͥ͂̚I̛̿̉ͤt̛ͦ̐ ̔͑͛ͤ̋҉ç̽a̢͋̐́̇ͫn͆̽'̸̋̃ͯͩt̡ ̾ͯ́bͪ̎̍̌ͩ̀e͋̎̒ͥ ̵ͫ̆͊h́e̴ ̉̍i͠n̈̈́͛̏ͯͨ ͮ̕t̊͗͝h̚ẻ͗͑͗ͨ̚ ͐ͣ̋ͩ͝thi͛́nͧ̆̌̈͗ͤ͌g̒̍s̎̍̅ͧ͛̀ ͂̿̍wͬͤe̷͐͌ͣ̄ ̾ͩ̊ͧ͢sͥ̓͆ͦ̒e̡͂͌̽eͮͩ,́

         W̋ͧ͑̑́ͬ̚͟h̭̝͍̬̗̊̈́ͭ̈ë́̄̋͗̈ͭr̤̹̦̳̟̝̘e̙̯̜̮͒ͪͯ̄,̧ ̴͚̖̫͉͔̙̪o̴͈̻̓ͭ̎̅͌ͧh̫̖͍͚̭͙͡ ͍͎͆̆͑ͭ͝w̰̲̥̘͚͒h̛͇͕̟̼̗͕̓ͅe̴̯͌̅̈́̏̃ͥ̈rͩͨͦ͗ͨͩȩ̟̹̤̟̼̜̜̈ ̓̒͋̋͌ͅc͇̻͚̝̼̬̗ȃ͈̟̺ͫ͊n͖̼̝͇͈͔̜͂ͩ̇ͮ̐̚ ̙̞͍͋ͤͣͤ̑ͧh̠̖̘͍ͦ̊̃͌e̘̜̾ͪ͆ ̷̠͉̫̔b̮͎̆ͦ̇̚ē̪̾͌̊̚ͅ?̠̿̓ͧ̎ͪ̀

̵̐̄͋ͫͬͬTͯ̉̒̌́ͤ͑̓͡h̊̓̂̾́̒͗͜ȩ̸͒̎ͧ̈̏ͯ̀ ̵̒ͨ͝͠t̿ͩ̏ͥͣ̔̾̕͠͡ḩ̨ͩi̵̢ͤͧ̈́̌́͒̒͡n̨ͮ͋̽̔͋̌͐̈́gͫ̄̾͐̕ ̶̌ͬ̐̋̔̾̄̎͞ï̸̋ͮn̢͐͐̎̈́ͧͤ̀ͦ͘ ̊͞fͪͣ̉̽͜r̵͂ͤ͆̋̂͘oͩ̄̂̅̎̎̎ňͧ͂͆ͦ́t̓̀͜͝ ̧̍ͯ́̓͒ͫ̈͘ơ͒ͬ̄͋f̵̀ ̛̂͑u̡̎̊̏̚͠͡sͣ̈́ ̷͒̈́͂͛ͧ̄ͪ̍͟w̎̽ͭ̓̅̉͏ę̨̢̄ͫ̿͑ͦ͊̂ ̸̡ͯ̔̈ẁͭ̌̎̇ḯ̀ͥ͐̂̚͝҉t̵̒̽̌̆ͯͭ͂͞͏ń̾͌ͯ͂ͦ͋ͣ̀e̶̢ͫͥͧ́ͮ̄s̢̔̇̉ͤ̉ͬ̄͠s̶̓ͭ̿͗̑,̎ͥ̚
̡̛̠̞̫̣̤̗̍ͩ̆͊O̷̟̩̟̜͇̮̐̏̓ͦͨ̾ͧͫụ̫͚͖̰̘͎́̉͌ͨͯ̋̌ͭ͜r̟ͩͧ͐̒͂͑̍ͣ͟͡ͅ ̬̖̤̘̫ͪ̋͊ͧ̓ͣͩ͝p̴̡͉̠̪͍̳̦̐͒̎͛̓͛́a̷̷̟̩̩̭ͮ̀̓͗ͭ͐ȉ̡͙̝̭̬́ǹ̴̮̺̭̥̣͍̃̚̕,̶̦̠̳̩̿̍̓͠ ̢̗̭͓͊͌̉̈̎ͨ̚o̸̸͚͔ͫ́̿̎͘uͦ̔ͪ҉͏̤̭̭̜̲̣̩̻ṟ̤̟̖͐ͩͫ̊͐̇̎͋͢͠ ̧͋̾̃̍͛͏̧̤̗̼̬t͚̦̣̗̭͇̪́̃ͮͥͯͦͤ̚ȅ̵̝̯͖̗͈͇̞̹̇̓́a̷̡͕͇ͩͩ͗̏ͅr̻̺͚͓̙͗̇͡ș̡͖̠̪̣̳ͤ̇̑̿ͣͯ̽͐͡,̈́͐̀͛̉͏̼̦̟̭̪̹͉̲̗́ ̻̺̝͍͉͚̂̓́͘i̴ͫͪ̐͑́̽͠҉̱̗͓̪t̗͚̰̱̪ͦ͑̆̃͐͐̒͛͋ ̴̧̛̭͔̺̈̒ͥ̀͗͒ͮģ̺̼͎͖̩̗̒͗ͮͧ̑ͥͅȓ̡̥̠̦̥̯̜̞̗̑̅̈́̊̀̄͝͝ỏ̙̫͔̣̥̰̳͑ͦ͗̈́w̆͋̋̓ͯ͏̜͖͍̱͔̖s̡̺͚͛̒͗͆ͫ̋ͦͨ̀ ̶͈͖̣ͤ̍̀̾͊̑s͚̠͙̗̝̠̫̮͈̒͊̓̈́ͩ̽t̸̸̖̭̦̗̞̥͒͋ͯ̈́̀̿͠r̡̖͚͚͙ͯ̀̓ͦͬͭo̧̙̠̺̗͉͉ͧ̉ͦͬ̊́n̸̰̱͍̰͙ͪ̐̉͆̃͛̑͘͟ǵ̏͏҉͇ ͔̫ͦ̇̑ẅ̬͈̬̗i̸̙͇̟̟̰͕͐́ͨ̄̂́͗͠ͅt̵̡̗̩̦̟̖̯̯̃̿ͭ̍̏ͤ̿h͒̋̅ͯͫ҉͖͖̖̹͕̤̠ ̡̩͇̣͔̪̖̘͒͋̇͑ͪ͂̊ͪͅt̹̗ͬͪ̀ͪ̈́ͧ͢͟h͊ͦͥ͏̫̼͚͘i̢͔̮̦͔͕̥̝̍̆͋͌ͯ̍ͫ̓͜s̼̗ͯ͡͝.̵̛̣͇̳̜͔̌̃̑̾ͮ͂́

̺͍̗͎̼̝ͤ̿ͩͪ͊ͬͥͬT̫͔̦̗͓̓̅̐̔̒ͮ̔͆̇͊͒̏͂̀͆h̪̳͓̤̯̖̖͎̩̯̻̥͓͗̏̓͐̅̉̎̄̽̔͌̋͑ͩ̚e̙̞̗͚̯͔̺̯͕̫̓ͫ̈̏ͮ̄̒̌̔ͫ̀̌̄͂̎̚y̥̥͉͕̲̪̝͓̤̤̬̹͇ͬ́ͭ̌̇̿ ̰̤̖̙͚͚̻̮̱̭̟͖̜̣ͥ͆ͣ̊́́ͩͪ̑̇̚̚ͅt͉̭͚͚̺̣̦̟̹̻̹̟̪̙ͪ͊ͬͮ̌ͣ͛̈̆̍ͨ̽͋̚̚ȏ̳̱̹̍͛ͬ̂ͯ̈͊͆̌͗͋ö̬̮̭͓͔̞͉̬̰̂͛̂́͂ͤ̉ͦk̯̬͉̰͙͇͙̤̠͔̅͋ͤ͑͋ͣͭͧ͑̓ͬͯ͂ͫ ͈̘̲̪̱ͭ̉ͩ̆̾ĥ̙͚̭̗̮͍̭͖̮͎̩͉͙̪͎͒̉ͪ̽̂̎̍́ͫ̿ͩͤ͌̈́̾̌ỉ̟͉̳̱̖͕̲͍̥͉̘̳ͯͯͥͤ͑̇̀̿ͥ̑ͫ́s͕̱͙̙͓͕ͤ̊ͥ̆͂̃͋̿͋̄̇ͭ̽͆́̆̊ͪ̎ͅ ͔̘̞͍̬͙̜͇͇͔̝͓̝̃̐̂͗͒̈̆̈̔͆b͔͚̙̗̟̳̱͔̭̼̭̗͙͎̮͂ͨͭͤ̅ͭͪ̈́o̯͔̮̟̩̥̯̳̞̩̥̞͎͙̔̒̉̊̌̂ͣ̈̓̓ͭ̽͋ͫ̎̀̌̀ͩͅd͚͓̩̗͖̟͙̟̜͔̥̬̺̻͊͊̓̈ͩͧ̇͗͌̇͋͛̍̂͛̍ͯy̠̹͍̥͈̐̆ͤ͑̒͆̐͊ͧ̀͌̅̍̆ ͕͍̦̯̼̘̮̞̯͓͓͉̼̟̌͒̀̋̏b̳̻͉̯̮̣̮̝͈̬̠̭͎͖̯̽ͦ̈ͬͮ͗̈̎̐ͅy̫̟̞̰̒̏̊ͧͨ̊͂̆ͫ͒͛ ̪͎̬̹̫̮̮̼̲̭͍͍̘̮̈́ͯͫ͊̈́̿̈́ͅṫ̟̟̲̘̺͎̠̺̲̰͓̪̯̹͈͙̜͛̐̔̂͐ͣ̂̆h͚̳̲̗̫͚͈̫͉̳̱̠̩̲̞ͬ̐̈̿͐e̘̞͙͓̗̜ͭ͗ͪ̀ͮ͛͗ͪ͂̓͌ ͓̜͎̮̝̥͆͊̾̾̑̈́͒̏̑̌̏͑ṙ͓̻̟̤͔̮̝̤̩̣̩̖ͯ͑ͨͦ̿͊͋̓̔ͯͤ̍̉ͮͫ͊̔́ͅͅe͍͇̞͙̠̼̣ͮ̓̇ͥ͗̉ͬͤ̽̆͋̅͊̅̈́́̓̽ͪi̝̫̯̣͕̣͖̥͙͖͑́ͤ̽̒ͧ̃͌͑ͅg̭͙̻͎̝̻̳̥̼̻͓̙̩̖̫͉̘̣̃ͤ̔̂ͨn̝͚̜͖̫̬̦ͦ͗͋ͥś̹̩̝̂ͤ̾̈̑ͧ,͈͖͍̠̲̦͈̘̭͖͖̳̰̳̹͈̍ͨ͆̋͋̍̾͆͑͌ͦ̓̓̋ͧ͗̓ͩ̚ ̮͚̳̠̠͕̝͖̬ͫ̌͂̅ͥ̓̐̈́ẏ̤͙̘̘̟͕ͬ̍ͫ̽ͩͨo̥̱̞̳̣̪̗̻͇̖̘̬̥͓̹̟̯͒ͭ̽̓̉ͭ͋ͅú̘̰̩̹̱̹̑ͮͣ ̮̖̫͈̘͍̖͈̟̟͑́ͨͫ̄͂s̜̯̹̘̪̩̹͖̮̙̙͎̫̯̖ͫ̔̾ͪ͊ͫ̐͐̽̚e̯͉͙͗̈́̍ͮ̔̌̔ͣ̚e̙̬̗͍̪̥̲̜̗̖̯̮̩̬̪͈̫͍͒̊̇̿ͯ̀̆̌̚ͅ,͈͚̹̥̲̖̭̖͖̥͓ͣ̔͑ͤ


                                                        ̠̺̘̣̩̉̒͌̈ͥͣͩ̾̇ͭ̚̚S̜̝̖̮̗͎͖͍̫̖̹̱̝͒ͣ́̈̍ͫͫ̆ͧo̬͚͎̫͙̘̥̟̖̖̮͙̳͖̫͒ͩͮͧ̈́͑ͬ̒̋̓́ͭ ̮̙͓̖̫̰̻̫͖̼̖̌ͭ̾́̑̑̉̑̾͒́̐ͭͬ͌̿̓̚j̲̩͍̰̫̣͚̠̗̞̪̬̦̰̪̻͌̊̆͋͆ͮͯͣ̂̍͗͊̀ͣͅͅṷ̙̫͖̳̗̟͈̼̦͇̰ͤ̽̇̂s͎͕͕̺̑ͯ̾͗̈́̽͂ͪͣt͈͚̫͎̩̦̯͚̠̖̝͕͔̥̥̟̱̏̋̿̂͌̊́̍̓ͭͯ͛ͮ̑ͬ͆ͯ̈ ̞͙͕̻̹͍̤̘͔̰̜̞̑͒ͫ͛̈ͯͧ̊ͅk̦̳̟͕̦̓͊̾͌̍͊̈ͅe͍̞̠̦̥̞͍̘͖̮͔͉̲͓̖̼̮̠̫͑ͯ̎ͮ͒̑̇̐͛e̱͈̠͖̠͈̙͈͕̒̅̒͛p̗̬̩͕̺͊̿ͩ͐͌ͨ͊̄ͩͭ̓͒͊͗̐̎̓ ̫̟̻̤̠̂̈ͧ̈͂͛͒̎̇͆̆̇͑ͤͩͯ̃͋̈i̝͇͕̥̞̺͍̳̘̹̫̥̿̓̆̐͌͂̑ͮ̆ͣ́̐ͮ̚ͅn͎͇̫͖̣̱͉ͯ̾̒ͭ̋ ̪͚͔̭͙̠̰̻͇͕͚̭̩̟͓̣ͮ̈́ͩ̄́ͧ̚ṃ̖̲͕̱̲̱̯̹̞͈͎̼̪̤̭͚͓͗̐̅̇ͧͬi̟͖̜̩̲̹͕͕͎̳̳̻̙̼͍̟͍̥͊́ͫ̉ͮ̏̒͋̎̊ͅn͇̯͇̥̯̭͍͑ͧͯ͒̍ͩ͗͑ͬ̽̑̋d̺̻̙̟̠͇͕̖̪͚̠̹̭͔͓͓̞̒ͭͩͦ̉̉́̐̎̄ͤ ͖̺̟̳̩̼̦͙̦̣̘̦͚̣͍̙̀͊ͨ̆͑ͧ̇͌͆͆ͮͭͨͩ̐͂̑t͇͔͖̻̦͎͈̯̻̯̯͍̹̳̪̦͙̝͋ͣ̒̇̓͛̾́͒̈̓ͭ̐̃ͫh̜̞̣͚̮͉̥̩ͫ̒́̆ͦͩ̚a̙͈̩̰͎̝̯̥̞̰͚̠͔̦̱̣̬̺̣̋ͦͩ͛̿̈́͒̂ͦ̀̚t̜̭̗͓̯ͨ̾ͥ̇ͪͣ͊͒͐̉̋ͭ̃ͤ ̭̘̺̘̻͖͙̦̮̳̼̙͍̻̲̋ͤ̒̽̾ͮ̒ͭͮ̅̚h͈̯͖̖̤̬͇͈̖͉̫̤̪͕͍͇͈̆̋͗̏ͥͣ̒͆̎ͧ̉ͫͭ͆̊̊ͮ̄̐ě̘͚͕̯̗͔͈̖̦̮͈̥̙͚̝͂ͫͧ̂ ͇͇̪̳͔̗̣̭̓̈ͮͦ͒ī̱̱̞̭̫̠͖̼̾ͨ͗̽̎͊͌ͩ̿ͪ̇̇͒ͨ͗̚s̯̹̩̝̭̝̫̥͎͈͚̅͆ͩ̓͌ͣ̓̍́͆͐͐ͬ̚̚ń̗͕̣͔̺̼ͥ̂ͧ̅̑̄ͯ̑͒͂̍̊͊ͬͅ'͔̝̺̙̩̫ͪ̊ͨ̇̔̽ͨͥ͆ͩ͂͊́̚t̫̘͚̤͚͎͎̖͕̬̜̄̓͗̔ͯ̍̇̌̉͐̆͂ͨ̿ͥ ͍̻͕̼̖̠͉̘̪̺̦͈̞̞̈́̂ͣ͑ͩͥͮͭ͋̌̆̇ͦ̂ͣͅĥ̦̘̘̰̱͇̟̥̦͚̫̺͉͙̤͚̓̒͛̚e̪̩̩̣̝͈͇͍͕͔̫̦̥͙͂ͣ̑̌.͉̗̝͉̮̭̥͕̬͚̼̼̙̙͂̉́̏̓

Ocean soldier (Part 2 out of?)

(A/N): I seriously love mermaid Bucky *sobs* 

Summary: (Y/N) happens to come across a rather friendly mermaid

Warnings: none for the time being?

Read the first part: X

(Tags at the end)


Originally posted by lowkeysebastianstan

   (This gif has me feeling so many things??) 

   You had been reluctant to go home that day, you had thoroughly enjoyed your visit with Bucky. The two of you talked…well you had done most of the talking while he sat there in the water and looked at you, occasionally grabbing the pad and pencil to write something to you. You had even managed to get him to crack a smile, not one of the small ones from earlier but a full on wide, toothy grin. It had been adorable…at first, that was until you got a glance at his sharp, jagged teeth. They almost reminded you of shark’s teeth only scarier given they were on a human being and not a marine animal. Something about this guy was seriously off, you knew that much, between the webbing and teeth and the constant need to stay in the water you had figured he was…strange to say the least. These should have scared you away, you should have run as soon as he appeared the second time but you didn’t, instead you sat down on the docks and talked to him until he had to abruptly scurry off at the first sign of people. These were all red flags, you should have talked to someone or reported this man to the police and yet again you didn’t and now here you were, the following day sitting on the dock awaiting for your friend to appear. 

   You doodle a bit, no longer focused on the sunrise as much as your water loving friend who had yet to make an appearance this morning. You gently sketched a face, one with a chiseled jaw and high cheekbones, you doodle some hair, long and matted with water but still gorgeous but what you truly focused on was the eyes. They had to be perfect, they had to capture the essence of curiosity and innocence but they also had to have a deeper, darker tone to them, one that implied this man- whomever he was- had a secret, or a darker side. 

   A soft coo is what pulls you away from your drawing but you don’t even have to look up to know it was. You set your drawing pad aside as you smile at Bucky who smiled right back, showcasing those jagged, knife like teeth. 

   “Hey Bucky,” You murmur quietly, as though scared to break the soothing sounds of the early morning sea. Bucky hums softly as he assumes his regular position, his head tucked upon his folded arms as he looks up at you. Your eyes rake over his form, stopping at his neck as you survey the slices of flesh, moving in time with each breath he took. They sure as hell looked like gills…but that- that wasn’t possible, human beings couldn’t have gills…could they?  Bucky hums again as he looks at you, his brows furrowed in confusion. Guess he’d caught your rather curious gaze “Sorry, um uh- I was just staring at your-” You gesture to his neck, sighing rather loudly. “Okay Bucky, what the hell are those things?” Bucky reaches up with a webbed hand to touch the skin, running his fingers along the ripped flesh before setting his hand back against the dock, looking rather sheepish. “Oh god Bucky-” You sigh, knowing you’ve offended him again with your ignorance. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it, it’s just-” You gesture to your own neck, revealing the not ripped flesh. “Mine’s different again, see?” Bucky looks back up, his blue eyes traveling over the expanse of your neck. “Do you…do you wanna touch it?” Bucky nods as he leans up a bit, pulling himself up just enough to expose his bare chest. Your eyes rake over his skin, taking in ever piece of smooth, water covered flesh. God- this man…or whatever he is- was beautiful. 

   Bucky makes a little impatient sound in the back of his throat, making grabby hands at you when he realized he couldn’t quite reach your neck. You smile as you lean down a bit, allowing his cool hands to graze your skin. The feeling was…different than expected; his fingers were cool to the touch and most definitely wet but they felt good against your skin. You hum softly as Bucky touches your neck, feeling the difference between your neck and his own. 

   “See? Different right?” Bucky purses his lips and nods, staring down at his own body in what appeared to be shame. Whatever was below the water he obviously didn’t want you to see, the most he had exposed to you was his upper body and even that was strange, you could only imagine what it looked like down below. “Bucky?” You whisper, biting your lip as you contemplate whether the question was worth asking. The man hums as he finally retracts his hand, apparently satisfied with his little inspection. “Can I ask you something kinda of…personal?” Bucky looks at you with squinted eyes, the distrust on his face obvious but nonetheless he nods. “Um, are you- are you human?” Bucky looks up at you with an almost frightened expression, his eyes wide and lips parted. But before you can even begin to repair the damage he disappears, ducking down below the surface just as he had done yesterday. “Wait Bucky!” You cry out as you lean forward, searching the waters desperately but there was no sign of him, the only thing that would have hinted that he was here was by the way the dock was covered in rivulets of water, most likely from his dripping hair. 

   You slump back onto the dock, looking at the waters in surprise. How could he have just disappeared like that? And why did he just disappear like that? You bite your lip in thought as you scan the waters, waiting for any sign of your new friend but there seemed to be none. Even after five minutes you saw no sign of your friend, then ten rolled around, then 20, then 40, but by the time the beach had started to sprout a family or two you realized Bucky wasn’t coming back. You sighed softly as you stood from the dock, grabbing your sketch pad and pencil in disappointment. As you waddled away from the dock you looked back, hoping to catch some glance of your friend but there was none, only the boats and sea so with another sigh you keep on waddling, trying not to let your spirits hurt too much. 


   You returned the next day, with your sketch pad and pencil, awaiting for Bucky. You waited for 3 fucking hours. 3 hours of just sitting and waiting for Bucky to show up. The sun rose, the people arrived and yet here you were waiting all alone on the docks. 

   You sigh as you drag your pencil along your paper, creating nonsensical lines and scribbles. It looked as though Bucky wasn’t going to show this morning and you couldn’t help but feel like it was your fault but you’d remedy this, you’d get Bucky to come back around. 


    For the next two weeks you kept up the same routine, showing up with your sketch pad and pencil, waiting for your strange, water loving friend to show but he never did. The countless hours you spent on those docks waiting for him were painful, they have you time to think about him. Even if you had only known him for 3 days you couldn’t help but feel attached to him and now suddenly he had disappeared. And yet here you were, the third week, and still sitting on the dock waiting for him. This time you had brought your guitar and you were gently strumming on it, humming a solemn song yourself. If you were going to wait out here for hours on end for your non existent friend to show up you had better bring something to entertain yourself since drawing wasn’t doing it for you anymore. 

   You strummed and plucked multiple songs, slowly but surely making your way through every tune you knew how to play. By the time you were done your fingers were aching and the sounds of the beach had gone strong; It had to be noon by the time you finished and surprise, still no sign if Bucky. God- why would he just leave you like this? Why wouldn’t he come back or at least tell you why he had left? Perhaps it was you? Maybe he was tired of you and didn’t want to see you anymore? Perhaps your insistent questions had angered him? 

   A million questions swirl around your mind until you can barely think anymore, your head to jumbled with “maybe’s” and “what if’s”. God- you had really fucked this up. For once you actually liked someone and then you went and fucked it up. If only you had kept your mouth shut, if only you hadn’t been so annoying, if only you could have been better. Tears burn at your eyes and before you know it you’re crying, your tears sliding off and hitting the watery docks. You were so pathetic, you knew a guy for 3 days and then he leaves and you’re this heart Broken? You bury your face in your hands, crying into them like some pathetic cry baby, which you were; The negative thoughts don’t mix well with your already strong feelings of frustration and regret. 

        Your crying is only spurred on by your negative thoughts, both your frustration and self hate brewing together to create the ‘beautiful’ mixture of tears you were experiencing right now. And that’s when you hear it, a gentle but soothing coo amongst the sound of ocean waves and the distant beach goers. You don’t even want to look up for the fear of the noise only being your imagination but suddenly there’s that strange but pleasant hand on your leg, gripping your leg gently. The coo comes again, this time a bit louder and persistent, almost as though Bucky was trying to grab your attention. Even with all your frustration and anger you look up, sniffling a bit as you do. 

    “Bucky…” You sniffle softly, hesitantly meeting the man’s gaze. He coos once again, his bright blue eyes very intently looking at your face. You bite your lip as you look at him, feeling even more pathetic than you did before. You can’t look into those ocean eyes any longer, your shame and embarrassment getting the better of you as you turn your head away from him but before you can there’s a gentle hand on your cheek, wiping away at your tears. You look back at Bucky in surprise, his hand feeling pleasant against your own wet cheek. This the most Bucky had ever touched you, other than when he had touched your neck and hands but this was- this was something else; this was more than those observatory touches, this was something more intimate. You sigh softly, allowing your eyes to flutter close as Bucky’s thumb runs over your cheek, collecting each tear that fell- however they don’t remain closed for long when they’re suddenly shooting back open in surprise. 

   “Please don’t cry…” 


@kaitlynmalikisnotonfire, @alienboi3299, @rejecteddesire, @saradi1018, @jessevans, @floral-and-fine, @notsoprettykitty, @yo-yo-bro-bro, @imamoose, @nobody8990, @softwhispers, @ficbucket, @iamwarrenspeace, @ruby-rose89 (If I have forgotten to tag you please contact me so I can add you!) 

Oral Show(Hoseok Smut)

So basically I continued the Taegi smut I did because it was fitting. And I was going to do more, but I don’t have enough oral one shots so why not. Enjoy!

“You’re all horrible. All of you are terrible just terrible.” You complained walking around your house. Your seven friends looked at you, as if you had just lost your mind with how you talked to them.

“Someone is a cranky pest.” Yoongi muttered, not standing to look at you or Hoseok knowing what he did now.

“Someone’s a big ass baby. Sugar baby.” You snapped back at him. Hoseok chuckled reaching out a hand to stroke at your skin, to the others it seemed like soft affection nothing else, you knew it was a warning.  You looked down at him, knowing better but still you shrugged away from his touch.

“Ever since you guys came to see her last week you’ve all bee moody.” Namjoon grumbled stealing a bag of chips from the top of your fridge plopping down on the table.

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” You muttered sticking your head in the air, placing a pot on the stove so that you could cook for the group of boys that came over. Seokjin and Taehyung were playing games in the front room, leaving Jungkook and Jimin on their phones in your kitchen watching something. Namjoon, Hoseok and Suga were by you why you were cooking indulging in conversation well more or less Hoseok and Namjoon were watching you and Yoongi bicker.

“You never do.” He said dramatically. You glared at Yoongi slamming down the pot.

“Listen here you little piece of ungrateful-“

“UNGRATEFUL?! UNGRATEFUL?!” Yoongi yelled back at you causing others to stare at you. Seokjin and Taehyung pausing the game. Taehyung sighed moving to come into the kitchen as he watched you and Yoongi. So, what if you said that you loved Hoseok head more than theirs? It didn’t mean that you hated theirs. You did say that they were both good so that made him feel a bit happy of everything that was done. He was proud of himself, but Yoongi felt like it was a blow and he couldn’t understand what Hoseok did so great that he didn’t do. His ego was a little hurt, he knew he had skills but what could Hoseok possibly do that was better than him?

“Just wave it off.” Hoseok mumbled looking at you.

Of course, you didn’t listen to Hoseok’s warnings or even let them bother you too much. You just kept bickering with Yoongi and soon it was pulling the rest of the members in who tried to calm the both of you down so that there was some kind of peace between you both. Eventually your bad mood transferred onto the other members and the kitchen became chaotic. Hoseok just watched the scene unfold in front of him. How everyone seemed to be on edge with each other. He crossed his arms across his chest, his leg shaking slightly as he eyed you. Eventually you were throwing the pan down with their cooked food, walking off towards your room. Namjoon ruffled his reddened locks looking around the table.

“What did you do to her?” He asked Yoongi, he rolled his head as Yoongi squinted his eyes becoming defensive.

“I didn’t do anything.” He said softly, rolling his eyes. Hoseok looked around taking the scene in before he stood up slowly straightening out his clothes.

“Where are you going?” Seokjin asked softly as Hoseok gave a soft smirk.

“I’m going to go calm her down. You all want it to be peaceful, right? Just let me handle it.” Hoseok grinned cheekily as he walked down the hallway towards your room. Yoongi wasn’t as dense as Hoseok wanted him to be, his eyebrow lifted as Hoseok strolled towards your room. When the others settled back down into their different hobbies he elbowed Taehyung nodding towards your room. Taehyung looked around for Hoseok before he shook his head smirking he followed Yoongi’s lead towards your room.

“That was quite the performance.” Hoseok said softly leaning against your door frame. He watched you fold up your clothes and start to put your clothes into your dresser.

“Go away Hoseok.” You sighed softly, shutting your drawers.

“Are you telling me. To go away?” Hoseok asked with a scoff walking towards you who were caught off guard, you wanted to take it back but you didn’t. Looking up at him, your eyes traveled over his handsome face, his strong jaw structure and tan skin. Hoseok backed you up into the wall slamming his hands by either side of your head making you jump slightly.

“I’ve let you have your fun.” He admitted, his eyes searching your face. “I told you to wave it off and you didn’t.”

“Yeah but- “You tried to cut in but Hoseok just gave you a look, and you knew from that look that you would be better off just listening to him. Your lower regions were starting to throb, it was incredible what he did to you.

“I told you to wave it off. Let’s not forget that you let both Yoongi and Taehyung taste you. I thought I made it clear you were to ask me first if you let other people play with you? And you know better than to act like that when you are feeling needy y/n” Hoseok asked softly, pressing against you, your legs slide open instinctively and he chuckled.

“Okay but we aren’t dating.. So I didn’t think it would be such a crime to let them do what you do.” You whispered softly.

“You want them all to fuck you then?” Hoseok looked taken back sliding from his position to peer down at you. “You want all of them to do what I do? Climb on my face and fuck it. You want them to push you down in the mattress face down and fuck you from behind. You want all of them to take turns fucking you in the late hours while their roommate is fast asleep? Or what maybe you want Taehyung to let you ride his dick while Jimin is sleep? Do what I did and force you to look at Namjoon’s sleeping face that’s in our direction hoping that we get caught. That’s what you want? To be our little slut?” Hoseok asked you, he was teasing and testing you trying to provoke you and it was working. Of course, he was truly jealous he had been the one that got you, only he should be able to keep treating your body like that and not share.

“N-no. I even told them you were my favorite Hoseok don’t be like that.” You moved to grab at the hems of his shirt kissing on his jaw slightly. Hoseok was stoic, not moving as you kissed on him. Willing himself to not just pin you down and take you. “Please daddy. Don’t be mad at princess. You know I love riding your face the most.” You peppered kisses along his jaw and around his lips. Biting on his bottom one you sucked lightly watching as he eyed you.

“Do you want daddy’s tongue now you needy princess?” He asked after some time pulling back so that he could grab your hand and tug you towards the bed as you nodded. Hoseok cupped your cheeks leaning down to press his lips against yours in a sweet kiss taking you slowly. His hands cupping your breast rubbing you through your bra before his hands trailed lower down your sides and around your back to grab at your plump ass cheeks. Hoseok pulled you to him, your hands pressed against his biceps as the kiss turned into anything but sweet, his mouth molding against yours, his tongue sliding inside of your mouth to suck on your pink muscle. One of his hands moved between your legs from behind, his fingers pressing against your pussy through your jeans. Your back arched, a soft moan leaving your lips and he sucked it up enjoying how your body crumpled to his touches. Hoseok pulled back looking down at you with hooded eyes.

“You know you should stop playing around and taste her for us.” Yoongi said barging through the open door. Your whole body froze up, letting out a curse you tried to move from Hoseok. He didn’t care too much, his ears tinted red, but he kept you in place rubbing harder against your clit as he watched them.

“Why?” Hoseok asked letting his fingers slow down their ministrations. “You needy Yoongi?” He teased earning a whine from you as you struggled in his hold, battling between rutting your hips against his hand and pulling back.

“Well she says you have the best tongue. I want to see why. You can’t be greedy and keep her to yourself Hoseok unless you are going to date her.” Yoongi reasoned Taehyung didn’t say much but he nodded in agreement siding with Yoongi. Hoseok looked at them for a long time, a multitude of mixed emotions battling him before he nodded.

“While I usually would argue with this. It was a bit rude for y/n to say such things as you made her cum twice. I do think that I should punish her in some sort but since I can’t do that with a house full of guys this will have to do.” Hoseok let his fingers stop moving the wet spot between your legs was embarrassing. Hoseok backed up sitting on your bed beckoning the other two inside of the room. Yoongi leaned against the wall while Taehyung slid to the floor. Yoongi reached out his hand to shut the door but Hoseok shook his head. “Keep it open, if they hear her then it’s her fault and she gets to explain to everyone what we have been doing to her.” Hoseok smirked at you, and you could feel anger boiling.

“I’m not-“

“You’re not?” Hoseok asked cutting you off. He looked at you, waiting for you to finish what you were saying. “Be careful y/n.” He warned. The last time you ever told Hoseok no against his wishes, he went months without touching you, causing you to beg him to forgive you and to touch you again.

Sighing you gripped at your jeans undoing the button on them, stepping out of them and your panties you threw them to the side almost acting like a bratty child. Hoseok was amused but he wasn’t the only one, his eyes glued to your body, watching as you walked towards him. Yoongi couldn’t help but marvel at your beauty, your plump ass cheeks, looking down below just imagining how you tasted. He felt his cock twitching and one look at Taehyung confirmed that he was thinking the same thing.

Hoseok laid backwards on the bed, pulling you on to his body, and pushing you up until you were straddling his neck. Hoseok breathed softly against your lips, his tongue coming out to slightly lick against your pussy lips. Your breath hitched as you watched him from below, your body was burning but you were so turned on you didn’t give a damn if Yoongi and Tae watched. They could join and you would still be fine with it. Hoseok let his tongue wiggle lightly against your clit teasing you as he tapped the tip of his tongue against your swollen bud. He hummed softly, using two fingers to open you up, letting his tongue slide up and down your pink slit, sucking on it licking on your insides. Your head rolled backwards, you bit on your bottom lip trying to not moan out loud for the sake of everyone in the room. Hoseok let his tongue move to press against your entrance playfully sliding only the tip of his tongue in and out teasing you.

Yoongi watching this didn’t understand how something so simple could make you love it. But after watching how Hoseok teased you as if he was going to push it in, he realized that was what you wanted. To be teased and push to the point of neediness. Your hands gripped harshly onto Hoseok’s silk locks. Your hips were still but your rigid body showed that you were becoming needy, on the brink of cumming just by him giving a few thrusts and suck to your clit. Taehyung sat there watching with his mouth open, hands pressing against his member that was trying to get hard from seeing you almost sob in a whisper and beg Hoseok to taste you.

Hoseok slide his tongue in slowly, moving his hands to rest on your hips. Hoseok pushed you down flush against his face causing a sharp gasp to leave your lips. He picked up his pace quickly slurping and sucking on your insides, fast and relentless tongue flicking motions that caused him to press against your g-spot. He went from teasing you to showing no mercy, moving your hips against his face as he ate you out. You pulled tighter onto his locks, rolling your hips and pressing his head even closer into your pussy. Hoseok moaned softly nuzzling his face against your pussy the juices sliding out onto his chin and down his neck but he didn’t care. Not once did he stop, his head staying attached to your pussy. One of his arms moved back, pressing against your clit, tapping it and pinching on the pink nub. He felt you tense up around his tongue, he could see how your stomach tightened up how your face was contorting in pleasure with your lust blown eyes. He loved it all, your rigid thighs tightening around his head. The sounds of your wet pussy being sucked echoed through the room.

You took one look at Yoongi and Taehyung, remembering that day they both ate you out, the look in their eyes and how good their tongues felt as well. Your body was on fire, pussy tingling from your spot being pressed against so much. Looking back down at Hoseok you tried to ask him without saying anything, seeing a harsh jerk of his head up and down your hands pressed against your headboard. Hoseok let your hips go moving his tongue curling it in all the right places as you rode his face completely taking over him and he submitted to you. Not pushing you to move faster or slower then you wanted. And that’s what truly got you off with Hoseok, he aimed to please you and let you be in control just like he was. In no time, you were circling your hips on his face moving as fast as you could until your cum was sliding out onto his lips and tongue. He was greedy in cleaning up your cum, sucking harder on you as if he was trying to get you to become dry. Hoseok let you ride out your orgasm on his wet face until you were satisfied and pulling away with your own wants. You slid down to kiss his lips licking everything off. Sitting up after a bit of time you stare at all of them, Hoseok smirking as he planted a kiss on your lips.

“Are you going to tell them the truth?” He asked ruffling your hair and you shook your head jutting out your lips. “Well then I will.” Hoseok looked at Yoongi and Taehyung smirking. “While she does love my head, she told me what happened between you two before you even told me. She only said she loved mine better than yours because she didn’t know how to tell you it was a tie. But she loved things you did at different times. Yoongi she loves that you are rough with her. Taehyung, she loves that you tease her like I do. But if you never let her get in charge she will never let you be a favorite and I learned that the hard way.” Hoseok sighed playfully causing you to slap his arms.

“Well any day you want to ride my face like that just come find me princess I’ll let you play with my dick while you’re at it.” Yoongi smirked at your tinting cheeks. Taehyung on the other hand got up and waddled into your bathroom shutting the door. The rustling of his pants made you even more flustered. You found yourself getting up but Hoseok pulled you back down growling.

“You’re still in trouble. Don’t even think about it.”

Day In - Jon Snow

        After the war of the Dead against the Living, summer had arrived to Winterfell. Jon is still recovering from his wounds and it looks like you were spending the day in. (Basically just sleepy and cuddly Jon)

Originally posted by kitsn0w

The pattering of the summer shower, currently parading against Winterfell’s walls, lessened as you looked out the window. The moors were now muddy with the rain, and some of the still lingering snow-slush. As you admired the landscape, The King in the North started to stir from under the heavy furs. You had woken up earlier than normal, frightened awake by a nightmare of the war. But at least Jon had slept somewhat soundly.

“What are you doing up?” You turned your head, seeing a groggy Jon sitting up in bed. The man’s voice was hoarse from sleep, making his northern accent deeper somehow. His loose sleeping shirt fell off to the right, exposing his collarbones. Bruises, inflicted by the hordes of the undead, were visible around his neck and scattered on his shoulders.

“Waiting for you to wake up,” you teased. He let out a huff from his spot on the bed and you smiled softly. “I’m teasing, my love,” you said and Jon smiled softly. You looked back out the window, now looking down into the courtyard below. You saw Arya swinging her sword, practicing her ‘water dancing’ with an ease that left you impressed.

While you watched the younger Stark practice, you felt a warm presence behind you. Jon’s strong arms wrapped around your waist. He let out a sigh as he rested his chin on top of your head. His eyes landed on his sister, his cousin, fighting her many, invisible enemies.

“She is a deadly warrior,” you whispered. Jon hummed in agreement. You gently rested against Jon’s solid chest, but leaned forward when you heard him hiss softly in pain. You turned around in his arms, facing him now. “Are you alright?”

“I’m alright, still a bit…” he trailed off. You rolled your eyes before grabbing his hand. Jon, as set in his ways as ever, didn’t want to admit he was still in a weakened state. He was part Stark after all; stubbornly honorable and stubbornly stubborn. You lead him to bed, trying to get him to rest. When he soon realized your plan, he planted his feet. 

“Don’t Jon,” you warned, but he stood as still as an Ironwood tree. Your raised your eyebrows, giving him a look. “You may be King in the North, but I am your Queen.” His dark brown eyes widened at your words before obeying your order. He sat on the bed, then leaned back so he was resting against it. Before you could walk away, Jon pulled carefully on your arm. You turned to look at him and he gave you a cheery smile; the one he only used for you.

“You are my Queen,” he said lowly, “don’t you think you should be with your King?” You blushed at his words and he pulled you to the bed. You fell on the cushy bed, resting beside him. You smiled at him, overjoyed to see him smiling again. He hadn’t smile in what felt like ages. You leaned up on your arms, looking down into his face. You trailed your fingers through his hair, down to his bearded jaw.

“So we’re spending the day in I take it,” you teased, you would’ve teased him more but Jon was having none of it. Jon’s hand went to your face, cupping your cheeks as he pulled your lips to meet yours. One of his large hands went to the back of your head and the other on your spine. You could feel the warmth of his hand on your back through the material of your night gown. You were now straddling Jon’s waist, your hands resting against his still-clothed chest lightly to not cause pain. You pecked his lips a few times before pulling away from him. You both managed to catch your breath, staring fondly at each other.

“I wouldn’t mind staying in,” Jon said, a boyish smile playing on his features. You hit his chest lightly, not caring if it stung, and summoned a chuckle from his throat. You sat up on his lap, trying your best to not hurt him too badly. As far as you knew, he didn’t have many wounds on his back. You played with the opening of his top, pulling on the strings that were once tied together. His hands fell from your neck and back to your hips. His thumbs rubbed at the soft flesh there, tickling your thighs beneath your gown. “I wouldn’t mind a few other things,” Jon teased and you rolled your eyes.

“You’re still sore from fighting and I’m not going to risk reopening your wounds.” Jon huffed dramatically and you laughed at his reaction. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips. His hands squeezed your hips, earning a little yelp from you. He started to laugh, then coughed in slight pain. You pulled away, resting your hands on either side of his face. You turned his head to face you and you stared into his eyes with eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, alright, alright. We won’t risk it.” You smiled triumphantly, pressing another kiss to his lips. He hummed into the kiss, his hands traveling to your waist. “I love you,” he mumbled against your lips, making your grin. You brushed your nose against his, wanting this moment to last forever; because as soon as Jon walked out of the door, he’d be a King and too busy for tender moments like these.

“I love you too,” you whispered as you rolled off his lap. You cuddled close to his side, his right arm tucking under your head. Jon turned his head, pressing his lips to your forehead. You smiled, closing your eyes at the contact. “More than you’ll ever know,” you murmured. Jon smiled against your skin, his eyes closing as well. So buried beneath warm blankets and curled next to the one you loved, you were carried off into a good, dreamy sleep that made up for the restless one before.

Title: Escape the Night I(Stark! Reader x Peter Parker)


Summary: The team is all invited to Tony’s housewarming dinner party, a 20s themed soiree with a twisted surprise that not even Mr. Stark himself knows about.

Word Count: 2472

A/N: WOOH! This is definitely inspired by Escape the Night on YouTube Red; I love it so much that I had to write something. If you guys like this part, let me know and I’ll totally do a part 2! I hope you enjoy!

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Mr. And Mrs. Barnes (Part 1)

Originally posted by vintagefangirll

Request: Could you do a one shot or series Modern au with Bucky Barnes and x reader with the Mr and Mrs Smith ( Pitt-Jolie❤️ forever) plot and or theme?? Love your writing btw!

A/N: Love this idea! Love this movie! The beginning does sound a lot like the beginning of the movie which it does (I’ve changed it up a little) but I’m going to try to change the story up a bit so it’s not a straight copy.

Bucky Barnes x Reader


“Can I just say, to start this off, that we don’t need to be here.” Bucky leaned forward a bit, trying to get more comfortable in his chair then leaned back again. “See, we’ve been married for 5 years.”

“6.” You corrected as you crossed your legs. 

“Right. 5-6 years and to us this is just a routine - like a little check up.”

The marriage counselor nodded. “Alright. Why don’t we get started then. On a scale from 1-10, how happy are you as a couple?”

“8.” You instantly said but Bucky put up his hands.

“Wait,” he said “10 being perfectly happy and 1 being totally miserable?” You sighed in annoyance making the counselor look over at you.

“Just respond instinctively.” he responded, bringing his attention back to your husband.

“Ok.” Bucky looked over at you. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

“8.” You both said in unison.

The counselor eyed the two of you but didn’t say anything. “Okay then. How often are you having sex?”

You fidgeted in your seat as your hands, in your lap, rubbed together. “I don’t understand the question.”

“Uh yeah, I’m lost. Is this a 1-10 thing?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah. So like, is 1 nothing? Because technically zero…” your hands were waving as you talked. “zero would be nothing.” you laughed awkwardly.

“Exactly.” Bucky laughed awkwardly with you. “And if we don’t know what 1 is than what is 10? And-”

The counselor put his hand up stopping his rambling. “This isn’t a 1-10 thing. It’s just a simple question. How often are you two having sex?

You took a deep breath trying to figure out what to say and you guessed Bucky was having the same dilemma because he went silent as well.

“How about this week?” The counselor added trying to narrow down the time frame, noticing how tense the room just got.

You glanced down at your hands as your husband asked if the weekends were included - which you didn’t know why he’d ask that. He knew it wouldn’t have made a difference.

“Sure. The weekends count.” 

The two of you went silent again, giving the counselor an answer. “Okay,” he cleared his throat. “Tell me how you two met.”

You smiled. “Well, it was in Romania.”

“Bucharest.” Bucky added, a small smile making its way onto his face at the memory. “5 years ago.”

You took a deep breath through your nose. “6.” You corrected once again.

“Right. 5-6 years ago.”

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I’ve Waited My Whole Life (1)

Request: “Could you do a Bucky soulmate story? Like the au with the countdown to the moment you meet your soulmate, but Bucky doesn’t have it because his arm is gone so the reader freaks out a little bit. But it’s all ok in the end. Like super fluffy fluff… maybe leads to smut, whatever you’re feeling.”

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Eventual)

Word Count: 3495

A/N: So I was going to wait a little longer to post this but I promised you two fics this week so I am going to give you two. This will probably only have two or three parts, so it’s not going to be super long, but I’m excited for you to read it. I am also almost done with the next part of Never Forget You, so there’s that to look forward to too. I love you guys and I hope you enjoy! (P.S. I’m just going to tag the people on my marvel series lists, so let me know if you don’t want to)

Warnings: Lots of fluff, a little bit of angst, fighting, violence

Tags: @seargantbcky, @lust-for-pan, @38leticia, @barnes-and-noble-girl, @karipaleta, @capandbuck, @camillechan, @findacauseandserveit, @audasia25, @kendallefire, @alicerozenju, @snuggleducky, @thisisthelilith

Originally posted by buckysqueenbitch

BUCKY’S POV

November 1943

27:08:23:14:36

The numbers never changed. In the twenty-six years and eight months that I had been alive, the numbers never changed. I thought that something was wrong for a long time, but as I got older I just kind of gave up. Especially when I entered the war.

But here I was, strapped down to table, a POW, a victim to Zola’s experiments, and all I could think about were these dumb numbers on my arm.

Where ever I was, something was happening. There was a lot of noise coming from outside but I couldn’t really concentrate on anything. I tried calling out to someone but I didn’t really have the strength to make it any louder than a murmur.

Then Zola came back into the room, grabbing whatever he could off his desk before he ran out again. I was asking him to let me go, but I don’t think he heard me.

At that point I just expected that this was it, you know, the place sounded like it was under fire and I was strapped down to a table somewhere in a building far away from the other POWs. Not to mention that everyone probably thought we were dead. But boy was I wrong.

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4th of July

Summary: Bucky and reader watch some 4th of July fireworks
A/N: I came across this prompt and had to write it. Mentions of PTSD. 
Word count : 671

Originally posted by clorox

Bucky held your hand as you walked up the green hill, his knees clicking softly as you both sat down. He brought your hand to his lips for a kiss, before pressing one to your cheek. “Best view around” you smiled, looking down at the lake below as people were milling around busily.

“I couldn’t agree more” he smiled softly before you turned to see him looking at you. You nudged him playfully, leaning in for a tender kiss.

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ASOUE Modern AU + The Baudelaires and the Quagmires living together in an apartment and being happy

•The Quagmires just show up at the Baudelaires’ door one day. They don’t like to talk about whatever happened in The Great Unknown, and the Baudelaires don’t ask. They just sort of settle in.

•They have one bookshelf but G-d knows it doesn’t hold all of them. Isadora keeps her poetry books in a box under the bed in the room she shares with Violet, Beatrice, and Sunny. Klaus keeps various books everywhere, under the couch cushions, in the cupboards with the plates, everywhere. Violet acts like she minds it, and tries to get Klaus to clean them up once in a while, but secretly she enjoys it. She’s never enjoyed libraries as much as her brother, but after libraries saved her more than a few times, she found that she didn’t quite mind that her whole home has become one.

•Sunny starts kindergarten that year, and Violet feels uneasy leaving her with someone else. But she has a job now, in a local garage, and she’s suddenly busy with carburetors and jumper cables and her coworkers who always have a funny story to tell about their kids. Klaus and Duncan and Quigley and Isadora are all in their last years of high school, but they have after school jobs as well. Violet gets her GED online, and she gets out of work early enough to pick Beatrice up from Pre-School every day. They fall into something of a routine.

•The days are easy, but the nights are a little harder. Violet can sometimes hear the boys cry out in the other room, the sounds of a night terror leaving them, some unknown monster that they’re fighting in their own minds. Duncan sleepwalks on the worst nights and Violet gently guides him back to bed. Isadora never cries out, she just whimpers and shifts in her bed, but Violet always wakes up anyways. Sunny doesn’t get them. Beatrice murmers for her mother in her sleep.

•The apartment always fills with the smell of Sunny’s cooking. Her flair for food only grows as she gets older. On Passover, the Quagmires’ first with the Baudelaires, they sit down at their table with the Seder plate in the middle and the Afikomen hidden somewhere amongst the clutter of their apartment. Violet immediately picks out the smells of different foods, like the Gefilte fish and the Maror, but mostly she smells the Matzo Ball Soup and her eyes fill with tears as she remembers her mother’s and how it never failed to warm her up in the rainy month of April.

•Violet sits on the fire escape with Quigley, her hand in his, as they look down at the alley below them. She remembers a moment, forever ago, when they sat on a similar ledge and watched the moonlight glisten on the snow-topped mountains. “It’s a very lovely view,” Violet says, only once more. “Very lovely indeed,” was the reply. Violet realized then that he wasn’t looking at the alley.

•Life for the Baudelaire-Quagmire family is crazy. It’s all spilled coffee and dog-eared pages and lost socks and nights spent in a pile on the couch and school projects and helping hands and fire escapes and everything that they always wanted for themselves. It’s home, and they’re still getting used to having one again. But the best part about it, is that it’s the easiest thing they’ve done in a long time, and bad memories are almost forgotten.

1 - CS Modern Day AU

The Reason - Rated M

The three of them share a laugh before they all look to Emma. She has yet to comment on the new addition because she isn’t sure what to say. She usually doesn’t like change, they have a good thing going there, just the four of them. Plus, they all know him and she doesn’t, but she trusts their judgement, and she’s sure any brother of Liam can’t be all that bad.

So, with a shrug and a smile she says, “Welcome to Storybrooke, Killian Jones.”


Here I go again! I hope you all enjoy it :) Double line breaks mean change of POV

Special thanks to @yeahiliketheredleatherjacket who helped me look less of an idiot. <3


Chapter One

Emma sits on her fire escape sipping on hot cocoa as she looks down at the street below. It’s just after ten in the morning and Storybrooke is awake while she’s still blinking the sleep from her eyes. It’s funny, she’s lived in Storybrooke for three years now and she’s still not use to how early the town wakes up, or maybe it’s just her.

When she was a young girl and moving from home to home, sleep was something that didn’t come easily; she always had to watch her back, so maybe she’s still making up for lost time.

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