no tilting no hair in the face

✧:・*i need u | four*:・✧

description : taehyung catches the attention of the one curious girl ❀

pairing : taehyung x reader ❀

genre : angst ❀

mentions of : smoking, drugs, sex, violence, weapons, partying ❀

word count : 3890 ❀

part one - part two - part three - part four

“The pain of parting is nothing to the joy of meeting again.”

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Onsra | Part V

(v.) – to love for the last time; a bittersweet feeling of knowing a love won’t last

Read: Part 1 | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V

Words: 13.7K

Genre: Demon au / Slight smut (warning)

A/N: Enjoy! I know it’s been a while, haha. There is some smut so I put that in the warning. It’s not a lot in my opinion, but still wanted to address it here!

“Are you okay?” He placed a hand on the brown haired boy’s shoulder. “Jeon Jungkook, speak to me.” His friend had been standing outside in the cold for nearly 3 hours now. He refused to come inside; saying he was moping was an understatement.

“If I say yes, will you leave me alone?” Jungkook asked in annoyance and brushed the hand away from him. There was a long drawn out silence between the two of them. Jungkook then quietly mutters: “I fucking gave her everything…”

“You didn’t know-”

“It’s my fault.” Jungkook leaned against the wall and covered his face with his hands. “That’s the thing; I should have known, Jimin.” He was careless and let his guard down. As much as Jimin wanted to comfort him, he had no idea how to.

“How could you have?” Jimin asked and sighed heavily before taking a seat on the pavement beside Jungkook.

“I never should’ve let it get serious or let it drag on like it did,” He muttered and clenched his fist. “I let my feelings get in the way.” He couldn’t think about anyone or anything else except her. What he would give to just feel absolutely nothing.

“You can’t stop yourself from feeling… Nobody can control that.” Jimin mumbles and Jungkook drops his hands to his side in defeat. He only wished he knew the full story, but Jungkook was a private person when it came to these things. Jimin was lucky enough to get Jungkook to even briefly bring it up.

“Can’t you?” He looks up at the sky and scornfully laughs, causing Jimin to furrow his eyebrows in concern. “Can’t you just choose not to feel? Think about it, you wouldn’t ever get hurt again.”

“Jungkook, look-”

“I don’t want to hurt anymore,” Jungkook grabs his chest.

“I understand. But she-”

“Human’s are good for one thing only.” His eyes darkened and he looked down at Jimin. “Once they’re used and spent, just throw them away. After all, there’s always more where they came from.” He muttered cynically.

“You don’t really think that.”

Jungkook laughed, an empty expression on his face as turned away, looking blankly in front of him.

“They’re all the fucking same, Jimin.”

You were no different.

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Mirage || Conor Maynard

Originally posted by fandomsugg

Requests are currently [ OPEN ]

Masterlist can be found [ HERE ]

Word Count: 1.1k+

A/N: I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS BABE @i-am-never-getting-my-life-back!!xo




“You know how much I hate Drama.”

“Oh hush, I know you’ll have a good time.”

You whine as your best friend tugs you down the stairs into the nightclub by your wrist, smiling weakly at the bouncer, who just so happened to be your Uncle, which made your whole experience at the club even more embarrassing. If you were to get too drunk, which admittedly, you had done before, he’d make sure you got home safely before calling your father just a few minutes later, making the hangover that next morning even more painful. You were half convinced that the only reason she liked the club so much was because she got in for free due to your uncle being on the door.

You walk inside and the music slaps you in the face, but when your friend looks back at you and smiles widely, her eyes lighting up, you can’t help but sigh and smile back at her, lacing your fingers together and letting her lead you through the crowd and to the bar. You had to wait a few minutes before you were served, and you take lead, ordering your usual drinks and leaning on your elbows as you wait.

The drinks were done within no time, and you pass the cash over to the bartender, who smiles politely and hands you your change in no time before being called over by another customer. You hand the blonde by your side the drink, knocking your hip against hers softly as you rolls her eyes and pokes your cheek fondly.

It didn’t take your friend any more than ten minutes to meet a light-haired boy, who seemed to have her heart, for that night at least. With a small kiss on the cheek and reassuring whisper in your ear, she allowed him to lead her onto the dancefloor, leaving you stood at the bar, sipping your drink and constantly looking down at your phone screen.

A boy, with floppy curly hair and a cute little grin, moved to stand beside you, eyes trained on you as you bite your lip and glance up at him. He clears his throat and smiles at you softly. “Can I buy you a drink?”

You roll your eyes and laugh quietly, inaudible due to the loud music that played continuously around the club. He looks down at you, furrowing his brows in confusion as you smirk and nod toward your best friend and the guy she’d taken off with just a few minutes previously. “Your brother or your friend?”

He glances between you and the pair on the dancefloor in surprise before laughing slightly shaking his head. “Brother, actually. And an annoying one, at that.”

“All brothers are annoying, it’s all part of the experience.” You smile, trying to ignore the fact that you felt like you had to scream to be heard over the music. “And if you’re still offering, I’ll have a peach schnapps and lemonade, please.”

He gives you one last smile before leaning over the bar and calling the barman over, leaving you to look down at your empty glass with an amused smile. It was obvious what was happening here, you’d been that other guys’ grenade, which didn’t particularly phase you, because you knew just how hot your bestfriend was. But you shrugged it off and decided just to go along with it, seeing as you probably would’ve just resorted to leaving the club after a little while longer. Yeah, nightclubs really weren’t your scene.

“So, do I get to know your name?” He asks, leaning back from the bar as the guy behind it begins to prepare your drinks.

You press your lips together and nod slowly. “(Y/N).”

“(Y/N).” He muses, tilting his head to the side a fraction. “You have a really pretty name.”

As your drink is placed in front of you and you smile at the bartender in thanks, you take a sip and shake your head with a slight laugh. “You don’t have to do this, you know? I won’t mess it up for him.”

“What?” He looks down at you, confusion written across his face.

You roll your eyes and laugh a little more, looking at him and raising your eyebrows. “Come on now, I think we all know that you didn’t come over here voluntarily. And that’s okay, because I think we’ve all been the grenade once in our lifetimes.”

He stares at you for a few seconds in surprise, before he nods slowly, leaning down so that he was closer to your ear and didn’t have to speak quite as loudly. “I admit, at first my brother did ask me to help him out, but then I saw you, and I didn’t mind nearly as much as I have done in the past.”

Unable to control the way your cheeks burned, you take another sip of your drink before placing the drink onto the bar and glancing over the still nameless guys’ shoulder. “I’m gonna go outside for a while,” you purse your lips as you grab onto your clutch, looking up at him hesitantly. “You wanna come with?”

He agreed, and you smiled slightly to yourself as you led the way toward the exit, poking your Uncle’s cheek on the way past and completely messing up his tough guy exterior as he looks over and glares at you. You stick your tongue out at him before glancing over your shoulder at the guy, who was looking between you and your Uncle with a mixture of confusion and amusement. “You know him?”

“My Uncle.” You nod, as you finally walk out of the building and inhale a breath of fresh air. You walk over to the brick wall, taking a seat on the floor with your back resting against it and looking up at him when he remained standing. “You not joining me?”

He seems a little reluctant at first, but once he was sat down, the sigh of relief that fell from between his lips caused you to glance over at him in amusement. He laughs slightly, resting his head back against the wall and reaching up to fix his hair. He glances over at your amused expression and a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “I’m Conor, by the way.”

“Lovely to meet you, Conor.” You can’t help but grin. “Now, understand this, I don’t dislike nightclubs, but I don’t like them either..”

From that moment on, the conversation between the two of you flowed as if you hadn’t only met a mere hour earlier. And for once in your life, it seemed like being the Grenade had worked out in your favour, and as you tilt your head to the side, a fond smile on your face as you watch Conor ramble about something or other; you silently thanked your bestfriend for being so damn hot.

Viktor and Yuuri are a blame-it-on-the-dog couple.

As usual, it works one of two ways.

Someone farts and no one wants to cop to it.

“Must have been Makkachin,” Yuuri says, not even looking up from his phone. Makkachin is in the kitchen and hasn’t left in ten minutes.

“What have we been feeding you Makkachin?” Viktor asks, and Makkachin hops into the room with tongue lolling and ears aflutter. Viktor rubs him behind the ears and coos, “What a smelly dog,” while side-eyeing Yuuri with a smirk. Yuuri kicks him.

On the other hand:

“Do you like this shirt?” Yuuri asks, standing in front of the mirror. It’s a sweater of a not entirely flattering yellow color, and about a size too big. It’s also made with some kind of speckled yarn that makes it look almost flea bitten. “My mother sent it to me. She said one of the ladies in town knitted it for me, which is sweet, but I just…I think it makes me look weird?”

“Well, as you know darling, I think you look good in everything.” Viktor crosses his ankles and clucks his tongue for Makkachin; Makka hops up onto the bed and curls up over Viktor’s knees. “But oh, what’s that Makkachin? You think that shirt makes Yuuri look like a molting canary? That’s so rude, Makkachin.” 

Yuuri exaggerates a gasp. “That’s so mean, Makkachin! You mean you don’t like this sweater that Tanaka-san made me out of the goodness of her heart because she’s worried I’ll freeze to death in Russia? How could you!”

“That’s no way to talk to one of your fathers,” Viktor says, rubbing Makkachin behind the ears. ‘What’s that? You’d rather see Yuuri in that awful blue necktie than this sweater? Makkachin!”

Yuuri crosses the room and kisses Makkachin’s muzzle. “Shh, he’s whispering something to me. What? Oh, okay. Makkachin wants me to tell you that he thinks you’re a fashion snob.” Yuuri crawls onto the bed and straddles Viktor’s thighs, brushes the hair away from his face, and kisses his nose. “Isn’t that the meanest thing you’ve ever heard? Your dog is a bully.”

“Oh, so he’s my dog right now?” Viktor mumbles against Yuuri’s cheek, kissing noisily.

“Yes? He’s your dog when he says mean things and he’s my dog when he says nice things.”

Viktor leans around Yuuri’s shoulder and pats Makkachin’s head again, then moves his hands up underneath Yuuri’s sweater. “Makkachin says you should just take the ugly sweater off.”

Yuuri laughs and tilts his head back, lets Viktor nuzzle his face there. “I think Makkachin should leave the bedroom, now.”

Viktor bounces his knees to get Makkachin off the bed, rolls Yuuri over and physically removes the sweater himself.

Yuuri finds it at the back of their closet months later, during a round of spring cleaning.

“Makkachin says that it’s still the ugliest sweater he’s ever seen,” Viktor tells him, and gets swat with it in the face with it for his trouble.

anonymous asked:

You should totally do a blurb about Harry having to wake up really early for all of his radio interviews on Friday morning and having to say goodbye while (y/n) is still half asleep! It would be so cute and fluffy:)

This request was right up my alley. A bit of fluff before we all.. you know, die. x


Endeavor



He’s trying to move as quietly as possible, careful not to leave the bathroom door open more than a crack so the light doesn’t shine on your face as he tiptoes back and forth between it and the room. It’s early outside, the sky skill a dark, brooding shade of blue and the sun is still hibernating until it absolutely needs to be up.

He’s currently standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom, trying to tame his wildly growing hair in a decent way. Although he won’t actually be on a television show today, he knows there’s bound to be paparazzi around the studios he’s going to. The tips Lou had given him have managed to fly out of his head. He sighs quietly, tapping his fingers along the counter and glancing at his reflection in the mirror. He takes a deep breath, puffing his cheeks out as he exhales. He’s nervous, exuberantly so. But even more so, he’s buzzing from his toes to the top of his head, the familiar feeling of anticipation and excitement bubbling in him. It’s been a year since he’s felt it, a year since he’s done what he loves to do, and this time around, he’s doing it exactly how he wants.

With one final glance towards the mirror, and a squirt of Tom Ford, he flips the switch gently and walks out into your room. His boots are clacking against the wood floors and he hisses, glancing up at you quickly as he comes to a stop. You’re unperturbed, though, still sound asleep with your head tilting a bit too far off your pillow. The skin around his eyes crinkle and the corners of his mouth lift up in his first smile of the day. The scene before him is one he’s seen many times, granted, usually he’s next to you with a much closer view. Your hair is sticking to your cheek and you’ve got the fluffy blankets you insist on having every night pulled up around you, he assumes to make up for the lack of his warmth. One of them is slipping off the bed and laying halfway on the floor.

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anonymous asked:

Could you possibly do a hc where Dan is at a friends house and Phil (his friends older brother) happens to be home with them since their parents aren't home. Dans friend has to go to the store and get something and Phil decides to have fun with his little brothers friend. You can make them any age you'd like.

~ this is shit but! it’s something! ~
~ dan is 16 and phil is 17, almost 18 ~
~ phil’s brother is named jordan bc idk ~


Dan knocked on the door, frowning and biting his lip. It was a bad habit he had developed, especially when he was nervous or particularity anxious.

This was his third time going to his friend Jordan’s house, and he wasn’t any less nervous. Jordan was nice enough, he sat by Dan at lunch when no one else had and talked to him about Pokémon. Dan was just scared he was going to do something wrong. He always did. He didn’t want to lose another friend.

Dan heard the lock click and the door swung open; his eyes widened.

A boy answered the door, a boy he hadn’t seen before. He had messy black hair, sex hair basically, and his blue eyes sparkled when they landed on Dan. A cocky smirk seemed to be plastered to his face.

“Hey,” he said, leaning on the door frame and looking Dan over. Dan crossed his arms; it felt oddly sexual. “You’re Dan, right? You’re cute. Jordan didn’t tell me you were so cute.”

“Phil!” Came a shrill voice from behind him, and Jordan pushed him to the side, offering Dan an apologetic look. “Sorry about that, that’s my stupid brother. Come on in.”

Dan nodded, pressing his lips together and letting Jordan pull him inside, avoiding Phil’s predatory gaze as he passed.

Jordan led him to the kitchen, leaning against the counter and smiling at him.

“My parents aren’t home, they left me with Phil.” He rolled his eyes. “They needed some ‘time alone’, they said…”

“They’re probably fucking!” Phil shouted from the other room.

“I was just making food…” he mumbled, ignoring him, a bit of ginger hair falling in his eyes, and he brushed it away. “But I think we’re out of ramen.”

“I ate it!” Came Phil’s voice from the other room, along with a laugh. Jordan cursed under his breath.

“But I’m really hungry and he ate all the rest of the food too…” he continued, glaring at the door. “So I think I need to go to the store. Wanna come?” He raised his eyebrows hopefully. Dan was highly aware of Phil who had just entered, leaning against the door frame.

“Yeah Dan,” he started, smirking, his eyes scoping Dan out. “Wanna come?”

Jordan glanced at him nervously, chuckling awkwardly. Dan’s eyes widened.

“Er, I think I’ll stay here, I brought some homework and stuff so I should be fine.” Dan flashed him a smile, biting his lip. Jordan shrugged.

“Alright then,” he mumbled, moving to grab his jacket from a hook on the kitchen wall. “I’ll be right back. Phil,” he turned to his brother, who raised his eyebrows. “Don’t sexually harass my friend.”

The door slammed, and he was gone.

Dan wasn’t going to lie, the sexual tension was unbearable with Phil watching him like he wanted to eat him. Dan bit his lip, glancing at his feet.

“Your name’s Dan, right?” He asked, stepping a bit closer.

“Yeah,” Dan mumbled.

“Well my name’s Phil,” he said, stepping forward again. He checked his wrist, frowning at his watch. “The name you’ll be screaming in about… I’d say about two minutes.”

Dan’s eyes widened as Phil chuckled, drawing his finger up Dan’s jaw. He leaned down, kissing just below Dan’s ear, as if to just test his reaction. He smirked when Dan moaned softly, tilting his head back.

“Yeah,” Phil breathed. “I’m gonna cover that pretty neck of yours in marks.”

“B-But,” Dan’s voice broke, and he backed away a little. “You’re Jordan’s brother… I don’t think he’d-”

“Why does he matter?” Phil muttered, brushing some hair away from Dan’s face and frowning.

“Because… I don’t think he’d like it if I-”

“Babe,” Phil laughed, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. I want you, he doesn’t control me. I fuck who I want.”

Dan tensed up as he spoke, Phil was leaning closer until their noses were practically touching. Dan’s breath caught. Phil slid his hands down Dan’s side, admiring his shape and kneading his ass in both of his hands.

“Dan…” he started slowly, offering him a smile. “If I kiss you, you have to promise you won’t run away.”

Dan thought about it. He had an attractive guy practically feeling him up, asking to kiss him, in his friends kitchen. An attractive guy practically two years older than him, Jordan had said his brother was almost eighteen. Dan felt himself nod slowly.

Phil smirked, pulling Dan forward roughly by the hips, kissing him on the mouth.

Dan whimpered into the kiss, somewhat surprised by the force in Phil’s movements, but soon he melted into Phil’s lips and his hands gliding over Dan’s curves.

Phil was good at kissing, better than good. His mouth slid easily against Dan’s, and he took dominance immediately. He reached up with one hand to touch Dan’s face, the other still squeezing his ass.

Dan jumped forward when Phil slipped his hand down the back of his jeans, so now the front of their bodies were pressed together. Phil chuckled, kneading Dan’s flesh, and Dan buried his face in Phil’s neck. He was incredibly hard, and he was positive Phil could feel it.

“Fuck you’re pretty,” Phil breathed, kissing down Dan’s jaw to his throat messily.

“Promise?” Dan giggled. Phil shook his head, in awe.

“Yes, baby boy.”

Phil picked Dan up in one smooth movement, making Dan gasp and wrap his limbs around him, grasping at his shirt. Phil walked them backwards, slamming Dan against the wall.

He kissed him again, more messy and desperate this time, and Dan moaned against his mouth.

“Can we go to your room or something?” Dan gasped, gaining back his confidence. “I don’t really fancy Jordan finding us out here…”

“Yeah,” Phil agreed, breathing heavily. “Yeah, you’re right.”

He set Dan down, tugging him after him by the sleeve to the hallway. They didn’t get ten steps before Phil was shoving him against the wall again, attacking his neck and jaw and mouth. Dan moaned loudly, grasping desperately at his shoulders.

“In here,” Phil mumbled, pushing Dan through a door and pulling him forward by his hips. Dan looked around as Phil nipped at his throat, frowning.

“Isn’t this… Jordan’s room?” Dan asked, pausing to mutter a ‘fuck’ under his breath. Phil smirked.

“Yeah, but i figure we’re doing him a favor. This is probably the only time anything remotely like this happens in here…” Phil laughed, pushing his hands under Dan’s shirt. “Plus I couldn’t wait,” he added huskily.

Dan let Phil push him back on the bed, because honestly, he couldn’t wait either.

Phil tugged his shirt over his head, tossing it aside, before crawling over Dan. He pushed Dan’s legs open, leaning over him so their crotches were rubbing together, slowly grinding down on him and drawing a moan out of Dan’s mouth.

Phil grinned, kissing him deeply and pulling at his shirt. Dan lifted him arms, letting him take it off. Phil sat up.

“I’ll be right back,” he said quickly, practically falling off the bed. Dan giggled. “Take those jeans off.”

Dan did as he said, discarding his jeans somewhere besides the bed. He felt a pang of guilt about doing this in Jordan’s bed, but it vanished when Phil got back, reduced down to his own boxers and holding a condom and a bottle of lube.

He kissed up Dan’s inner thigh as he crawled up the bed again, making Dan shudder and grip the sheets.

“Baby boy,” Phil breathed, his words brushing Dan’s neck. “Are you sure you want this?”

The fact that Phil was asking shot affection through Dan’s body, and he nodded.

“Yes,” he muttered, tugging Phil’s boxers down slightly. “Yes, god, yes Phil.”

“Good,” Phil said, grinning and helping Dan take his boxers off. “Good.”

Dan’s own boxers were off in seconds, and Phil was brushing his thumb over his entrance.

Phil leaned forward, kissing him deeply, all lips and tongue and heat, as he pushed a finger into him. Dan shuddered and arched his back, a strangled whine falling from his mouth.

“Shh,” Phil whispered, peppering light kisses all over Dan’s face and watching him carefully. “Shh, baby, it’s okay, you’re doing such a good job.”

He kneaded Dan’s thigh gently, adding another finger and grinning as Dan started grinding back on him.

“Such a good boy,” he muttered, pumping his fingers, curling every now and then and making Dan fall apart beneath him.

Soon enough he was pulling them out, rolling on the condom and lubing himself up. Dan watched through heavy lidded eyes, letting out little hums and whines of pleads.

“Baby,” Phil mumbled, pressing his tip to his entrance. “Don’t hold back, alright? Want you to moan for me, want you to scream my name like a slut.”

Dan could hardly nod before Phil was slamming into him, bottoming out with one thrust. Dan gasped, a loud strangled moan ripping from his throat. He grabbed at Phil’s form, desperate for something to hold on to.

Phil groaned, long and steady, as he began to push in and out, biting down on Dan’s shoulder.

“Fuck, Dan, you’re so tight…” he gasped, his stomach tensing up and heaving from his heavy breathing. Dan whined, throwing his head back.

“Harder,” he breathed.

“Are you sure?”

“Please, yes!”

Phil nodded, watching Dan’s face as he snapped his hips roughly, and Dan screamed.

“Philphilphil FUCK!”

Phil moaned, sucking on his neck and fucking into him harder. “That’s it, princess, scream my name. That’s it baby.”

Dan’s head was going foggy, all he could comprehend was YES, yes, god he felt so good. Phil’s hips hitting his, burying his cock so deep into him… fuck, it was heaven.

“Dan,” Phil said, his voice strained. “Fuck fuck fuck, Dan, so good, I’m gonna cum.” He took Dan’s cock in his hand, jerking him off, incredibly fueled by Dan’s noises and the way he was arching his back and throwing his head on the pillow.

“Ah-” Dan gasped, squeezing his eyes shut. “I’m c-close, I’m close Phil, shit-”

“That’s it baby, meet my thrusts. Such a good boy, meet daddy’s thrusts… just like that.”

Phil froze when he heard the door open, the creaking of the bedsprings and Dan’s moans slightly messing with what he could hear, so maybe he was imagining it. But-

“Phil?” Jordan’s voice called. “Dan? Guys?”

Phil slapped a hand over Dan’s mouth, not stilling his moments completely, but slowing down. He knew he should stop, try to get them presentable, but he was so close… He grinded his cock into the boy beneath him thoroughly, trying to get him there through going deep instead of hard and fast. Dan’s noises were still clear, although muffled.

Phil replaced his hand with his mouth, kissing Dan to keep him quiet, groaning as he felt Dan moan against his mouth.

“Phil? Why are your jeans in the hallway…?”

Dan whined, cum streaking his stomach and his back arching, and Phil kissed him harder, letting go into the condom.

Phil pulled out quickly, discarding of it in a wastebasket and pulling Dan up. He dressed him as fast as he could, getting Dan to help slightly, but not much. He pulled on his own shirt, grabbing a pair of Jordan’s jeans and pulling them on, even though they were clearly too tight.

“Phil…?” Jordan pushed open the door, frowning at them suspiciously. “What are you doing in my room?”

Phil smiled at him. “Oh, just messing with your shit. Dan really wanted to see your drawer of sex toys.”

Jordan’s eyes widened and he glared at Phil. “I do not have a drawer of sex toys!”

Phil shrugged, standing up and punching his brother’s shoulder. “Whatever you say buddy.”

“Why were your jeans in the hallway?”

Phil shrugged, trying to seem casual. “Must have dropped them when I did the laundry. And…” he looked down at Jordan’s jeans he was wearing. “Mine must have shrunk…?”

Jordan frowned, but nodded slowly.

Dan stood, practically falling but Phil leaned forward and caught him at the last second. Dan laughed nervously.

“Feet fell asleep,” he mumbled. “Happens a lot.”

“Mhm,” Jordan said, staring at him suspiciously, but like he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. “Alright then, well, Dan, Arianna invited us to lunch so…”

“Yeah! Uh, yeah, let’s… do that.”

Phil grabbed Dan’s butt as he walked by, and winked when Dan glared at him.

“You know, I like this kid. You should invite him around more often.”


~
TWO DAYS LATER
~

“PHIL?! WHY THE FUCK IS THERE A USED CONDOM IN MY BIN!”

Braids

Originally posted by ohbabyyeah

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this! It’s the longest I’ve written on this blog and I’d really appreciate the feedback here  – I’m most likely doing a Part 2 depending on how you all like it. Enjoy :)

Harry loved family reunions.

Amongst the bickering cousins and lurid pitter-patter of children, he often found himself feeling at peace as his folks filled him in on all the stories he’s missed out on. He’d laugh about his jittery uncle who nearly burnt his eyebrows off from an old barbecue, nodding approvingly as his aunt gushes about her eight year old who’s just won the flashy new title of spelling bee champion. He likes the way they treat him too. With adoration in their eyes, resurrecting from the years they’ve watched him as a young boy (instead of the usual gaze of stardom he’s used to). He almost, if not, especially enjoys the way they admire his success, not as an ego-booster, but as a way of praising Anne for his upbringing, despite the major gossip that briefly tainted his mother’s name around her first divorce.

But even in a house packed with his most favourite people, he would always feel relatively exhausted from the length of the reunion, a full four days he’d reckoned. It was unfair really, he loved his crazy family, but he always felt like he had to put on his best face, never getting his usual dose of solitude to rejuvenate.

So when Harry first invited you to join him, he hadn’t quite expected you to be so patient with his family.

“Yes, he is very handsome,” you’d chuckle, “but we’re only friends.”

“You’re sweet, love, but I think this little girl wins the beauty contest, hmm?”

“Right, he is very good with kids.”

“M’only in uni, ma’am, so I’ve got a few good years before settling down.”

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Rhythm | Lee Joo Heon | One-Shot

jooheon (monstax) + you (reader)
word count: 7,233
warnings: i have no excuse for this flithy, graphic smut (that includes but is not limited to thigh riding, breath play, mild degradation, spanking, etc) and strong language (some slut shaming) and brief mentions of infidelity
a/n: i was inspired by the new mv and channeled that inspiration into a gang!au, bad boy jooheon sexy time fest and before you say anything yes i know he is a total squish in real life that’s why it’s called fiction :)

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anonymous asked:

Hi, I don't know if you're taking prompts but I just read your scene about Andrew being there in Baltimore and it was amazing so I wanted to ask you to write something about Andreil + neck kisses, because I feel like this is a Very Important plot point that was not fully explored. Like maybe Andrew coming to terms with the fact that it's actually his favorite thing, and not knowing how to ask for it? Ugh I just finished rereading the series and I can't get enough of these stupid boys 🦊

(Thank you so muuuuch, and also I totally agree tbh)

He hates the way Neil always pauses to kiss at the hinge of his jaw on the way to his neck. It’s like a check point, the sweet press of a power button, and Neil doesn’t even seem to realize he’s doing it. He kisses with his whole face too, dragging down over Andrew’s bottom lip and chin and throat with his eyes closed, like he’s too in love with the experience to even look.

It’s killing Andrew. It’s stoppering the air in his lungs and giving him stomach ache with how bad he wants it. You like it. I like that you like it.

Andrew hates that he likes it, the vulnerability of that bared neck. It feels like a mistake every time he does it, but it also kind of feels like he’s taken the first shots of the night and he can’t stop, like the more he drinks the thirstier he gets. Neil is such a mistake, but he’s so so easy to make.

Kissing — like this, with the covers pushed down and Andrew on his side with his hand up Neil’s shirt — feels inevitable. He can’t stop pushing up Neil’s springy cowlicks and Neil can’t stop fumbling down to Andrew’s neck and sucking. It’s so humid and nervy-tense between them, like it’s never been, like Neil is singlehandedly dangling Andrew off of a rooftop.

Neil passes his tongue over that root of Andrew’s jaw and Andrew makes a noise so low that it sounds wounded. He just barely keeps his hands from forcing Neil closer, chasing that moment where Neil can’t help himself, circulating between mouth and face and neck before Andrew directs his attention elsewhere. He just wants to stay in that circuit with his hands open and his head tilted back.

Andrew’s fist must go too tight in Neil’s hair because he pulls back frowning, lips red.

“Sorry,” Neil says. “Carried away.” He looks troubled by this, like he’s not used to being carried away by things that aren’t arguments.

“No,” Andrew starts, and then stalls out. His hand is still in Neil’s hair. He doesn’t know how to ask for this; doesn’t even know if he wants to.

“No?” Neil repeats. “Okay.” He leans back and off of Andrew, passing one hand through his own hair and undoing Andrew’s work messing it up.

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” Andrew says, and the way he’s exposed is too much — shirt pushed up in the tousle to pull Neil on top, hard and marked up.

“In my experience, no means stop,” Neil says evenly.

It’s exactly what he wants to hear, he realizes suddenly. Neil finds this humiliating way of giving Andrew what he wants without looking like he’s considered it at all.

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I keep thinkin about domestic percy and annabeth who’ve been together for so long that they’re so comfortable around one another and they can read each other so well? and i’m emotional but hear me out

  • passing one another in the kitchen with gentle touches to the other person’s back for no other reason than they can and maybe they want to reach out and feel the warmth of skin through that thin t shirt
  • greeting each other with small kisses that they’ll give for their rest of their lives, hands reaching for hands and arms and squeezing as they walk off together
  • percy’s arm around annabeth’s shoulders and annabeth’s arm around percy’s waist as they stand together
  • annabeth’s hands at the base of percy’s spine as they stand facing one another, a gentle pressure, dipping underneath his shirt and the waistband of his basketball shorts
  • hands cupping cheeks to kiss mouths and noses and foreheads, thumbs stroking cheekbones and fingertips brushing into hairlines
  • percy’s hands in annabeth’s hair, gently untangling the curls as she sits on the floor with her back to the couch he’s lying on, her head bowed over a pile of blueprints
  • percy’s head in annabeth’s lap as they lie in the park in the sunshine, the gentle brush of her fingers at his temple as he sleeps
  • annabeth’s hand on the back of percy’s neck as he drives, palm cupping the base of his skull and fingers messing with the soft hair at the nape of his neck, her face tilted towards her own window as the breeze and the sunshine soaks her
  • annabeth sidling up to percy and him lifting his arm for her to fit under without a word; annabeth kissing his cheek before settling against his side
  • waking up to morning breath and her palm over his mouth as he tries to kiss her, knees between thighs and hips flushed together, laughter pressed into each other’s skin
  • sitting in each other’s laps and giving each other piggyback rides (especially when one of them is injured - annabeth carries percy bridal style around camp when he twists his ankle during capture the flag one time)
  • percy’s fingers twirling annabeth’s hair around and around as they lie in bed together, heads on one pillow, darkness and a whole city of noise outside their window, silence in their bedroom but for the quiet exchange of whispers about their future and the universe and what they’re going to name their kids
  • eating breakfast at the table in their pyjamas, chairs pulled together as annabeth pushes her feet into percy’s lap and he rests one hand on her shins and drinks coffee with the other, quiet content smiles exchanged over mugs and pieces of toast
  • hands held, simple as that, fingers crossed and palms together, wrists pressing two heartbeats close together
Body Heat

Request: Can you write a Sirius Black x Reader but the reader is James’ sister and Sirius tries to flirt with the reader and James is all like are you flirting with my sister and Sirius fires back or something?
Warning(s): Bar scenes, drinking, swearing, intense hugging(?), major Sirius feels. Honestly, just look at the title.
Note: This is my first Marauders’ imagine, so feedback is appreciated.

⇢  A Sirius Black x Reader work where the reader is James’ younger twin sister.


Most brothers preferred to keep their social life separate from their siblings’. James Potter was no exception. Which is why, when Lily and Marlene urged you to meet the Marauders at the bar with them, you fervently declined.

“A bar? Filled to the brim with drunkards? James would never let me out of his sight,” you argued, moving away as Marlene approached you with a tube of lipstick. “I’m not going.”

She crossed her arms, her lower lip jutting out. “Please, Y/N.” Marlene gestured at your attire: Black hot pants and a long sleeved crop top. “You’re already dressed for it.”

You glared down at your outfit, tugging at the hem of your shorts. “I didn’t know you guys chose clothes for me to wear to a bar.”

“What did you think? Your arse is hanging out for tea with the Minister of Magic?”

Lily gave Marlene a warning look as you flushed a bright red. “Don’t listen to her, Y/N. Your arse is not hanging out.” She paused, giving you a once over. “Well…You’ll blend in, at least.”

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “James is going to kill me.”

“So what?” Marlene interjected. “He’s your brother, not your dad. Who cares what he thinks?”

I do; he’s my brother.”

A slight snort came out from Lily. “Marlene is right. You’re your own woman. You shouldn’t let the opinion of that arrogant toerag dictate your decisions.”

You and Marlene exchange glances. It was quite obvious that, over the years, James’ crush was becoming less unrequited. And although it was disturbing at first, you quickly accepted the idea that one of your best friends fancied your brother.

“You mean that arrogant toerag you so happen to like?” you said, raising an eyebrow. 

Lily raised hers back defiantly. “I don’t like James Potter.”

“Yeah, right,” Marlene scoffed. “That’s like saying Y/N doesn’t have the hots Sirius Black.”

You frowned, ignoring the slight amount of heat rising to your cheeks. “But I don’t.”

Now it was Lily and Marlene who gave each other incredulous looks. It was clear neither of them believed your poorly concealed lie. They knew, no matter how much you denied it, that you had developed a crush on Sirius the moment he gave you a bundle of white flowers for Christmas. Just the thought of his hand brushing against your cheek as he tucked a single flower behind your ear made your butterflies come alive.

“Let’s pretend, for now, that we believe you.” Marlene checked the time. “But in this moment, I hear the firewhisky calling my name. Are you coming?”

“Sirius will be there,” Lily sang.

You threw your head back defeat. “Fine.” You paused. “But not because I want to see Sirius.”

Keep reading

First Time for Everything

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 2,400

Warnings: smut, language, hilarity

Summary: (inspired by this post by @missjackil ) Sam’s never had a blowjob, so you take it upon yourself to convince Sam to let you give him his first ever blowjob.

Send a message or leave a comment! Feedback is always appreciated!

Dean loved to brag. He bragged about everything, from the perfectly executed execution of the monster on their latest hunt to how many beers he’d outdrank his brother by. Usually the latter ended with him toppling onto one of the two beds, slurring his way into a sleep that would last for a good twelve hours. Sometimes he bragged about the blowjob he’d gotten from the pretty bar waitress, betting Sam that “he’d probably never gotten a better blowjob.”

And it was true.

Sam hadn’t gotten a better blowjob because he’d never even gotten a blowjob.

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8

Theo Raeken x Reader


Requested by Anon

Warnings: Mature content, sexual content, dirty talk, nsfw, smut.
Word count: 2 172

A/N: I have a thing for writing about werewolves in heat. I mean.. it’s alluring alright. Thank you who you are for suggesting this.


_

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like real people do p.2 | jungkook

summary: the feelings for your friends with benefits are changing. months pass, and you feel your gut telling you that you want more. you’re just not sure if he feels the same.

college student!reader, friends with benefits!jungkook

piece 1, piece 2, piece 3

this component is based off russ’s cherry hill

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When Duty and Desire Meet Chapter 4

Art by @edendaphne , words by moi!

Summary: After their accidental kiss on Valentine’s day, both Marinette and Chat Noir have to deal with the emotional fallout of their actions.

Read on AO3
Read on tumblr

~

Valentine’s Day Part 2

“So, let me get this straight,” Alya said, leaning back against Marinette’s desk chair and steepling her fingers. Beside her, on a little table-cushion Marinette had made, Tikki slept soundly, having already heard the story a thousand times over. “You’re in love with Chat Noir.”

“You already knew that,” Marinette groaned from her chaise, hugging a cushion to her chest and leaning back like a Freudian patient. Lord knows she was about three sentences away from a therapy-inducing hissy fit regardless, so it was probably prudent of her to be lying down in such a way. She was preparing for her inevitable breakdown that’s all. It was the smart thing to do.

And she rarely did the smart thing nowadays it seemed, so she really needed this.

“You’ve been in love with Chat as Ladybug for like a bajillion years,” Alya continued, ignoring Marinette as she continued to rehash pointless details. Details which made Marinette want to bludgeon herself to death with her cushion.

It was most likely impossible to do such a thing but she was never one to back down from a challenge. Death by cushion- she’d find a way.

“Yes. We’ve already established that,” she replied through gritted teeth, said cushion slowly creeping up to cover her face.

“But last night you kissed him by accident,” Alya said.

“Uh-huh.”

“As Marinette.”

“That is correct sir,” Marinette wiggled a finger.

“And he gave you a rose and kissed you back.”

“Tru’ dat.”

It was indicative of Marinette’s deteriorating mental state that she’d said “Tru’ dat”. She’d never said “Tru’ dat” in her whole life.

“I see,” Alya nodded a few times. The fact her tone had remained neutral the whole time was doing nothing to help Marinette’s poor nerves, and so she swung her legs over the side of her chaise, sitting up to get a better view of Alya’s twinkling eyes. A sense of dread settled in Marinette’s stomach. Alya’s eye-twinkles were never a good thing, at least when they were directed towards her.

I see?! Is that all you have to say? Seriously?! I thought you’d be freaking out right now, I mean I’m freaking out but then I ALWAYS freak out. You not freaking out is making me freak out harder! Can you please freak out with me? Join me in the freak out zone already!” Marinette blabbed, waving her arms and promptly dropping the cushion to the ground.

Alya said nothing, instead choosing to raise an eyebrow at her and cross her legs. At least she’d stopped steepling her fingers, Marinette thought gruffly.

After a short pause, Alya finally spoke, but her voice wobbled and strained unnaturally, her lips thinned in a way that was entirely too suspicious. “Firstly, stop saying freak out, secondly I’m not freaking out because this is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

She barely made it to the end of her sentence before she doubled over and descended into giggles.

It was in that moment that Marinette realised Alya’s peculiar behaviour had been due to her hiding her amusement, and she felt fully justified in yanking the cushion from its position on the floor and hurling it towards her supposed ‘best friend forever.’

Unfortunately, Alya dodged the fluffy projectile with ease.

“Come on, this is serious! I’m in hot water here!” Marinette cried, crossing her arms across her chest.

“When are you not though? Let’s be real,” the redhead shot back with a wry grin, twirling in the chair and kicking backwards to check her hair in the small vanity mirror on Marinette’s desk. The sight made Marinette relax a little. Alya only checked her hair with such scrutiny when she was seriously contemplating something.

Suddenly missing the comforting embrace of the cushion, Marinette flopped down once more. As her back hit the large pillows adorning her chaise, she let out a long sigh and all the fear, the panic, the fight, left her in one fell swoop. Only tiredness and uncertainty remained.

“How am I going to face him?” she whispered. Her head tilted towards her small, round window, to the afternoon sun beaming down in a total antithesis to her feelings. She wondered where Chat Noir was at that moment.

Did she cross his mind?

Over the years Marinette had asked herself that question more times than she could count. But it was different now. Now she wondered if Chat thought of her, of Marinette, not of Ladybug. Did he dwell on it- how they’d kissed? She had. She’d thought about it all night, until exhaustion had finally overcome her and she’d woken up late, cold, wanting something she could barely comprehend.

For years, she’d thought about what it would mean to kiss Chat Noir, Dark Cupid incident aside considering she couldn’t even remember it.

A small, involuntary whimper left her when she recalled the night before. The kiss had been an accident… at first. But the second she felt Chat’s lips press into hers was burned into her memory, playing over and over again. The moment he returned her kiss had ignited something dormant inside her and she felt raw, emotions exposed and unlocked, with nowhere to hide.

She considered her question again. How on earth could she face him as Ladybug, knowing what she did, knowing him the way he didn’t know he knew her (and god wasn’t that sentence confusing in and of itself)?

For God’s sake Marinette, it was a peck of a kiss at the most, pull yourself together!

“You’ll figure it out.”

Alya’s voice sounded lightyears away, so stuck was Marinette in her own musings. She jumped, a little sheepishly, and realised she hadn’t noticed Alya coming over to her until the spinning desk chair was pressed right by the chaise. The next moment, Alya’s hands were in her hair. Having thoroughly fixed her own short curls, she now concentrated on the silky strands of Marinette’s loose locks, braiding little plaits as if they were children at a sleepover.

Marinette let her. Two perfectly groomed heads were better than one.

“You think you can talk to him about it? As you I mean, not Ladybug,” Alya suggested, quickly clarifying her meaning whilst tugging the red ribbons loose from Marinette’s dark hair.

Snorting in response, Marinette couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Talk? To Chat? The very idea…

“Yeah sure, let me just tweet at him Ayla. Hashtag balcony make-outs,” she giggled, feeling a little better as her hair fell around her shoulders.

Foregoing the braids, Alya reached up and began tying something new into Marinette’s hair, tutting in disapproval. “Slide into the DM’s at least girl, I raised you better than that.”

They shared a laugh, settling into a comfortable silence as Alya worked on both sides of her hair. Marinette sat back and mulled over her options. Truth be told she didn’t have many. She couldn’t talk to Chat, after all it wasn’t likely he’d be back and she had no idea who he was in real life. The notion that she could talk to him as Ladybug, thus revealing herself, made her rapidly descend into a panic so sharp that she quickly pushed that thought to the side.

Really there was nothing else to do but call it what it was. A blip. A crazy alignment of stars which had given her a taste of everything she’d wanted for the past four years, a reminder that it was probably all she was going to get.

She tried not to let the disappointment settle in her bones, yet it was fruitless. Her chest ached as though a hole had been carved there.

Suffice to say it was a familiar ache where Chat was concerned, but it was bigger now.

“There. Done,” Alya pulled back, pleased with her work, and Marinette stood. Stepping over to the vanity mirror, she leaned down to check her reflection. “Matching colours for you and the bae,” she teased, eyebrows wiggling from underneath her rounded glasses.

Marinette threw the cushion at her again, feeling a smug sense of satisfaction as it smacked her right in the face.

At the very least, she had the Gaming Club that night, that would provide a very welcome distraction.

***

Adrien was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Which was ironic, considering he’d joined the Gaming Club to avoid that exact thing from happening.

“I can’t do this, I’m going to cancel,” he whimpered, hiding out in the bathroom a floor above their usual meeting place like the coward he was.

“So cancel,” Plagg shrugged, busy amusing himself with unfurling a roll of toilet paper- as per his usual hobby.

“I can’t cancel!” Adrien replied, horror struck as he gazed at himself in the mirror. His fingers gripped the sides of the sink so hard that his knuckles turned white. “Are you insane?!”

“So don’t cancel,” Plagg’s disinterested monotone was really starting to grate on him. “Honestly kiddo what do you want me to say and will it get me food faster?”

The resounding groan from Adrien’s throat was so despairing in nature that he was afraid he’s start rumours of a ghost haunting the building. He leaned on his elbows, burying his face into his hands.

Stupid. He’d been so, so, stupid. And reckless! Totally reckless. What had he been thinking?!

It was worth it though, a small, unchecked part of him thought. Adrien squashed it flat in an instant. After all there was no time to consider the fluttering in his chest, the pleasant swoop of his stomach. Now was the time to face the consequences of his actions. His incredibly foolish, totally moronic actions.

Because, although a part of him ignited, burned in the best possible way, at the memory of Marinette’s lips against his own, another part felt thoroughly ashamed. It felt like he was tricking her in some way. Granted that had never been his intention. His plan had been simple. Leave the rose on her balcony for her to discover. She’d never know it was him and be happy at the gift from a secret admirer. Obviously, things hadn’t worked out the way he planned, though he should have anticipated that.

When had things ever gone the way he planned?

He needed to apologise to her, as Chat, and he was going to do so that night in fact. But before that Adrien needed to pretend, he needed to lie, to Marinette. To the girl he loved. He needed to act like he hadn’t heard her soft sigh, felt the warmth of her skin and the taste of her cherry-blossom lips. He had to fake it, act like it had never happened.

He had to pretend he didn’t desperately want it to happen again.

The idea of being so fake made him ill, and so he placed his hands under the cold water tap to splash his face, allowing the iciness of the water to penetrate his senses and offer him some much-needed clarity.

It didn’t really work but it was the best he could do.

When he entered the Gaming Club, Plagg tucked securely inside his jacket pocket, he was relieved to see Marinette talking to other people. He could barely look at her, the meagre glimpse he’d gotten from across the room had sent his heart cartwheeling down the corridor and somewhere into the next arrondissement.

Not wanting to look suspicious, and fully admitting that he was stalling for time, Adrien wandered over to the desk where Nino was hooking up an old Nintendo console for one of their signature Mario Kart nights.

Mario Kart…Marinette…partners… sitting close together… oh no.

“Hey bro!” Nino chirped, offering Adrien a fist to bump, clearly not noticing how the blood had completely drained from his friend’s face. “Everything ok?”

“H-hey! Everything’s good!” The first lie of the evening. How could Adrien have forgotten it was a Mario Kart night? More importantly, how was he going to survive the evening now? Sitting next to Marinette, shoulders pressed together, watching her tongue poke out in concentration like it normally did? How could he concentrate on anything knowing how close he’d been to said tongue the night before?

Grow up Adrien! You aren’t some horny teenager and Marinette isn’t a prize to be objectified. Show her some respect already!

If Nino had thought Adrien’s reaction was strange, he didn’t show it. Together they settled into an easy conversation, Adrien helping his friend set up the old console. Focusing on such a menial task did wonders for his nerves. He was almost starting to feel normal. Almost.

Of course, just as he was beginning to relax, Marinette had to tap him lightly on the shoulder.

She might as well have given him a 1.21 gigawatt electric shock, given his reaction to both was about the same. If he’d been Chat Noir at the time, his superpowers might have actually propelled him through the ceiling.

“A-Adrien?” Marinette tilted her head, taken aback by his startled shriek. “Are you ok?”

Subconsciously, Adrien’s hand reached up and he clutched his chest, fingers burying into his jumper as if it would cure the frantic beating of his wild heart.

Because she was there, right in front of him. Marinette. The girl he’d kissed last night.

His eyes flicked down to her lips before he could help himself.

“Adrien?”

The second time her voice permeated through his cloudy mind, something snapped inside of him. It was as if he were a character in a film, once played in slow motion, now fast-forwarding.

“Hey!” he cried, louder than he intended, and the people around him turned to stare. He looked at her eyes instead, with far more intensity than normal, mainly because he was so intent on not looking at her lips any more. “Marinette! It’s my friend- Marinette! My good friend, I’m good! How are you? You good- good? Yeah, I’m good, friend. How are you? Did you have a good Valentine’s day?”

WHAT?! Adrien’s brain-filter kicked in far too late, but began screaming at him nonetheless. Why would you ask her that? WHY?! You know how it went! YOU WERE THERE!

Marinette blinked, and it proved just how far gone he was that he found her blinking adorable.

Her blinking.

“Umm,” she blushed, unsure of what to say and, honestly, Adrien couldn’t blame her. He sounded insane even to his own ears, and he’d just asked her something quite private. Actually, he was surprised she wasn’t berating him for it. Then again, she thought he didn’t know about her encounter with Chat Noir.  His words may have seemed innocent to her ears.

What a mess Adrien had gotten himself into, and it only seemed to grow worse with every bit of word-vomit he expelled.

(Was it bad that he felt a tiny bit of pride at her blushing? Probably. But he was going to hell anyway so he might as well enjoy the slow descent at least a little bit.)

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Marinette glanced baffled at Nino, whom Adrien could see shrugging from his peripheral vision.

But he couldn’t care less.

Because he’d just noticed her hair. Or, more specifically, how she was wearing it.

In place of the red ribbons usually tied into her loose black locks, were two green ones instead. Vivid green. Chat Noir green.

His brain collapsed in on itself.

“I’m good-good too.”

Marinette was teasing him. She was grinning and she had green ribbons in her hair and Adrien was going to DIE.

“Good! That’s good!”

Great. He’d always wanted to die sounding like a partially strangled mongoose.

Marinette, mercifully, took pity on him and waved a controller in his face, offering him a place in the first race of the evening. He sighed, relaxing a little, but only a little. Gaming was fine. It was a welcome distraction, as long as he didn’t sit too close to her he’d be fine (who was he kidding? Of course he was going to sit close to her). At least, when he was focused on blue shells and Bullet Bills his brain couldn’t fixate on the meaning behind Marinette’s ribbons, if there was any hidden symbolism he was missing.

Suddenly the thought of seeing her that night, of apologising, seemed that much more dangerous- forbidden almost. But he had to do it. He owed it to her as her friend. Even if that’s all he could ever hope to be.

Nino still hadn’t finished setting up, and a few other members began helping him in their eagerness to get started. As a result, Adrien found himself more alone with Marinette than ever.

They sat down on the floor, controllers in hands, side by side. Their shoulders brushed, like they always did.

Adrien swallowed, wishing he’d worn a t-shirt instead of the woollen monstrosity currently overheating him.

He was fairly sure he was going to lose the game spectacularly.

His fears were proved right when, later that evening, Marinette’s knee brushed against his own and he ended up sending Donkey Kong careening off the end of Rainbow Road.

It was going to be a long night.

***

For the fifteenth time that evening, Marinette called herself an idiot.

Because she was an idiot. An idiot for standing on her balcony, an idiot for hoping lightning would strike twice in the same spot, an idiot for following her heart…

Tightly wrapping her cardigan around her, she gazed out into the mocking skyline. The bitterness of the cold February air was nothing compared to the bitterness she felt building up like sludge in her chest. Bitterness in her fortunes, bitterness in her decisions, bitterness in her own feelings.

Distantly, Marinette thanked the stars that at least it wasn’t as cold as it usually was. She was thankful she had a tiny shred of dignity left at least- that she wasn’t freezing to death in the vain hope that Chat Noir would show up again.

She reached up, fingers brushing against her lips, and remembered.

Furious with herself, Marinette shook her head, as if the rough gesture would expel all the unwanted memories from her mind. Honestly what was she doing acting like a silly sixteen-year-old with a crush? Again?! It was desperate, obsessive, ridiculous-

And totally in character if she was being honest with herself.

She needed a break. A breather. A respite from her own whirlwind emotions regarding the man in the black mask, the man who’d held her heart for longer than she cared to admit to anyone- not even Alya.

Stuffing her hands in her pockets, Marinette let out one last frustrated sigh before turning on her heels and making her way back to her room. Maybe her room would be less of a reminder, would save her from her torment.

But, as usual, fate had other plans for her.

Because, of course, Chat Noir happened to be standing there as if he’d suddenly popped into existence.

The shock of seeing him sent Marinette stumbling backwards with a cry, tripping over a flowerpot and tumbling to the ground.

“Whoa!” Chat called, rushing forward to catch her just in time. One hand gripped her flailing wrist, the other pressed against the small of her back as he pulled her towards him.

For a moment, both of them froze in place. Chat’s fingers splayed across her back, and she briefly felt the edges of his clawed-gloves scratching gently against the fabric of her cardigan. An involuntary shiver ran up her spine before she could control it.

Chat’s eyes widened and he stepped out of their half-embrace with awkward, jittery movements, casting his face away from hers. “Sorry,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head. “Sorry I shouldn’t have startled you. I guess I have a bad habit.”

Bad habit huh? Marinette had one of those too.

The silence which settled on them both was heavy, uncomfortable, and borderline unbearable. It was laden with memories of the night before, swirling around them, echoing in their minds as though they were standing in an empty theatre, watching their mistakes projected on a screen with no means of escape.

Because it was a mistake… wasn’t it? She hadn’t meant to kiss him, he probably regretted kissing her back. That was why he was here- of that she was sure. To think he was here for any other reason was just asking for a broken heart.

But, oh god, it hadn’t been a mistake. Not to her. She couldn’t ever consider it to be such.

Finally, Marinette could take the silence no longer. Taking a deep breath, she fixed a smile onto her face, painted a picture of a girl who had herself together at least a little, and placed a hand on her hip.

“No rose tonight?”

Chat’s cat-ears twitched. He peered over at her with a puzzled frown before he realised she was teasing. Something dark crossed his eyes and Marinette forgot how to breathe. The look was gone before she could concentrate on it fully, and she found that he was smiling back at her.

“Err, n-no. No. That is- I mean- unfortunately not,” he replied with his signature bow. “But I do have something far more important.”

“Oh really?” Marinette squeaked, inwardly cringing at how lame she sounded. She’d wanted her voice to be sensual and teasing, but instead it sounded like she’d inhaled a ton of helium instead. Clearing her throat, she tried again, arching her eyebrow for good measure and all the while thrilled at the fact that he was simply there. Chat Noir was there. He’d come back to her. “What’s that?”

“An apology.”

Marinette’s blood ran cold.

“About last night,” Chat continued, shuffling from foot to foot, completely unaware of how Marinette’s body, mind, and heart had seized up all at once. “I feel like I made a terrible impression. I- well- I’m not the type of guy to do… what I did.”

From the depths of despair and panic, Marinette felt the faintest hints of confusion. She latched onto it. Confusion was better than rejection.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice small and vulnerable, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Well I’m not really a playboy or anything, despite what the media likes to speculate about me. I don’t kiss strangers on balconies. I guess, I didn’t want you to have the wrong impression about me.”

When Marinette hung her head, Chat felt a wave of regret wash over him. He’d practiced what he wanted to say, over and over again but it never seemed enough to fully explain himself- not without revealing to her that he was Adrien Agreste and he’d been lying to her this entire time. He was too afraid of the ramifications of that- so he needed to end this now- before he hurt her.

Damn it, he’d gotten so close though. So close to knowing what they could have- what they could be.

But it was a fantasy. Chat Noir was a large part of him, but it wasn’t all of him. The person he was behind the mask was locked away from Marinette, was a separate entity in her eyes.

Who was he fooling? They couldn’t be together. Not like this.

He had to try harder as Adrien and if she rejected him he would simply pick up the pieces of his broken heart. He would respect her, be her friend, move on, and certainly not use Chat Noir’s hero status as a means to trick her into loving him. She deserved better, deserved the world, even if he wasn’t the one to give it to her.

That’s why he had to leave. Right now. Being here, being this close to her, was crumbling his resolve. Every cute gesture she made was another step closer to his damnation. He had to leave before he said or did something he’d regret, before his principles were lost to the wind.

“It was Valentine’s day. I guess… it’s easy to get swept up in the romance of the day, right?” Marinette said. She was smiling, but the sparkle in her eyes was dulled somehow. Once again Chat’s attention was drawn to the green ribbons in her hair, as she quickly tucked a few strands behind her ears. He couldn’t bring herself to speak as she grew distant, deep in her own thoughts, and her shoulders raised. “But if we’re being honest Chat, I was worried you’d see me in a bad light too. Like- I mean- I’m not the kind of girl who kisses random celebrities and I’m certainly not the type to blab to the press about it either.”

“I didn’t ever think you were,” he uttered, swallowing thickly, and a little bit of sparkle returned to Marinette’s eyes. Her cheeks turned pink again.

Chat felt his claws digging painfully into his palms.

“Well… that’s a relief. I mean I always admired you,” Marinette stammered out the confession before she meant to, quickly covering her blunder with half-truths. “You know you saved me once- from an akuma. You didn’t notice me at the time, and it was years ago, but I never forgot.”

Chat felt as though he’d been physically struck by her words.

He’d saved her? He’d saved Marinette? And he hadn’t noticed her?!

“I wish I’d seen you,” he said before he could help himself. The rest of his desires remained unsaid, as new possibilities, new what ifs, formed in his mind- like an alternate reality.

Chat inwardly cringed. No way in hell was he going to get any sleep that night.

“I wish you’d seen me too,” Marinette admitted.

Chat’s hand was halfway to hers before he yanked it back, his heart beating wildly, his mind screaming at him to leave. The pull was almost tangible, magnetic, drawing him closer to her. It was dangerous, and he needed to leave.

“I hate to be a sundae, but I have to split!” he laughed, high and fake, all the while cringing at what was perhaps the worst pun he’d ever made. And that was saying something.

Marinette didn’t say anything, but laughed once.

Ok, she thought, maybe she was ridiculous, but he was equally so. Maybe that’s why she loved him so much.

She watched him make his way to the edge of the balcony and something stirred inside her, the raw feelings which had sparked when their lips had met woke from their slumber, and she reached out to touch his shoulder.

“Chat?” her voice matched the soft tremors echoing through her body, and she tried to remember to breathe. She couldn’t let him leave like this, she’d been so close. “How about…one last kiss?”

Chat stilled, statue-like. His lips parted, and Marinette panicked.

“I mean!” she corrected, face turning to flames, “I mean sorry that was dumb- so dumb. It’s just that I- I liked that kiss and I thought- I don’t know what I thought- but I wanted to-”

His lips crashed into hers, and the rest of Marinette’s sentence was lost forever.

Chat kissed her, kissed her with a resolve thoroughly destroyed and a heart so indescribably owned; owned by her, possessed by her, consumed by her. His hands were frantic, and Marinette matched him in every way as they pressed into each other. Her fingers gripped the back of his head, tangled in his hair, and pulled him closer.

Like he needed an excuse to get closer to her.

The pair of them moved apart to breathe, great shuddering breaths, and then their lips were together again- as neither of them could stand to be apart for a moment. Chat’s fingers slid from her hands to grip her hips, a primal, dark part of him triumphant as he heard a moan slip from Marinette’s mouth.

They stumbled backwards, towards the wall, and Chat pressed her against it, hands roaming her sides- never going too far- always listening to her reactions. Desire coursed through him, a need to please her, to make her moan again, without pushing too far.

She must have sensed him falter, sensed his caution, as a frustrated hum rose from the back of her throat, almost like a purr of her own. Her hands moved from his hair, gripping the bell around his throat, and she tugged him down towards her, kissing his neck.

Chat was having a hard time not passing out from that alone, but then she rolled her hips, making it so there wasn’t a sliver of streetlight between them, and he was fairly certain he died and was reborn on the spot.

Dangerous was the word whispering in his mind, the word he was ignoring as his hands cupped the sides of Marinette’s face, tilting her head back. She arched into him again, countering his movements like a dance, and he gasped.

It felt too natural, too perfect… almost…familiar.

Dangerous he thought as his tongue flicked against her lips.

Dangerous- he thought as her mouth opened and he was rewarded with another moan.

Stop. Stop before you can’t, he pleaded with himself as Marinette’s hands wrapped around his shoulders, her fingernails scratching against his neck.

He didn’t stop.

They kissed for what seemed like hours, passion moving from an explosive force to one of slow-burning sensuality, settling into a rhythm that was far too natural, but neither of them could bring themselves to mind.

It was a long time before Chat could bring himself to leave her, to stop kissing her. It was addictive, intoxicating, and filled with promise. For months his heart had been starved, yearning and wishing, and now it was real. Their kisses were real, her affections were real.

And so was her voice, ringing out in the coldness of the night, in answer to his question, “May I see you tomorrow night, Princess?”

There was a pause, both of them treading on thin ice, ice which slowly creaked and groaned beneath their feet.

“Yes,” she breathed, and the ice shattered, plunging them both into unknown depths.

(art to follow)

Oh Sehun//For Her

Originally posted by veriloquentmind

Summary: The first words you’ll hear your soulmate say are tattooed onto your skin from birth. You hear the words, but in the worst possible situation - he’s in love with your close friend. 
Scenario: Soulmate AU, angst, fluff
Word Count: 5,746

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wanna be your lover

summary:

sebastian and you are co-stars on a press tour. you’re the best of friends, but when sebastian finds something suspicious in your luggage, that may change everything. (based on this request.)

word count: ~6K

pairing: sebastian stan x reader

warnings: smut 18+ ONLY (light dom/sub, anal play, dirty talk, dom-ish!seb, etc. it’s filthy.) 

a/n: pls blame google translate on my incorrect romanian. english translations are at the bottom. i don’t know why all of my seb AU’s are dom!seb. i will fix that eventually. anyway, here’s some sex. 

Originally posted by walkingshell16

masterlist | request

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1 | Freak

BTS X READER [COLLEGE!AU | THRILLER!AU]

WORD COUNT: 4,967

series warnings: mature themes, violence, blood and gore, murder, emotional manipulation, bullying, mental health deterioration, eventual smut and substance abuse. this chapter contains strong language. 

Originally posted by cuteguk

masterlist | ask | next


Admired, beautiful, sophisticated and elite. Undeniably the most popular girl at university, girls wanted to be you and guys wanted to be with you. There was no doubt that being at the top of the social hierarchy came with it’s premium advantages; you were always dressed head-to-toe in the most luxurious designer fabrics, you had enough money in the bank to buy yourself a small country and your family were one of the richest in Maplebank; an affluent suburb of Princeton, New Jersey; situated a short forty minute drive from Princeton University, the Ivy League school you and your high society friends attended.

As an aspiring columnist you were in your final year of your English degree, working two days a week at the local and somewhat infamous magazine and online gossip forum, The Exhibit. Friends joked about you being twenty-one and living with your parents, but you couldn’t bare the thought of staying in those filthy dorms again, during your first year you had to share a room with Kim Taehyung, a lowly scholar student who always had his head buried in a textbook. Admittedly he wasn’t the problem, Taehyung was such a kind and considerate person, but the thick limescale build up inside the plumbing and the cracked windows deterred you from returning the following school year.

Living with your parents didn’t bother you as they spent most of their time away from home on business; often travelling to different countries for long periods of time, leaving you and your older brother Yoongi alone inside the modern Georgian house that they had purchased six years ago. Yoongi was rarely in the house as he owned a music production company and the AGUSTD recording studios were a few miles out so you were mostly home alone. Both you and your brother drove Range Rover Sport Evoque’s; his being matte black and yours brilliant white as they patiently sat on the driveway until your next commute.

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Dance With Me - Dylan O’Brien

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Characters: Dylan O’Brien/Reader

Word Count: 2722

Warnings: Pure Filth, NSFW, 18+, Oral (both receiving), Orgasm Denial, More Filth

Notes: #SorryNotSorry

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Kiss With A Fist

Pairing: BuckyxReader

Warnings:violence, humor, lil bit of smut, lil bit of angst, daddy kink on 10, be ready…

A/N: this fic is inspired by the song Kiss With A Fist by Florence and the Machine

“You dirty fucking bastard!” Bucky’s ears perked up as he heard your footsteps trailing down the hall as you cursed. He can’t help the wide smile that spreads across his face when he sees you approaching him with a face red as a tomato. You stand in front of his chair and scold him.

“Where is it?!?” You cross your arms as you impatiently tap your foot against the hardwood floor of the TV room. Bucky smiles devilishly at you and you know it was him. You know he stole it.

“Hey sugar tits, I don’t even get a hello before you start yelling.” His brow arches, almost as if he’s tempting you.

“Hello, asshole. Now where is it?” You try to calm yourself before you snap.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He grins.

“Cut the shit, Barnes. Where did you put it?” You wondered why he always had to fuck with you. Out of everyone here, why you? You supposed it was because of the fact that you were a bit weirder that everyone else. You like pineapples on your pizza and you mixed your Sprite with lemonade but that didn’t mean that Bucky had to pick on you and only you. It just wasn’t fair.

“I put a lot of things in a lot of places, doll. You’re gonna have to be more specific.” His brows furrowed.

“You know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about. Now, drop the act and give me back my damn bear!” Your voice gradually got louder as Bucky continued to try your patience.

“Ohhh that bear that you sleep with every night like a five year old? Yeah it might have accidentally gotten thrown in with the trash after I cleaned the kitchen. You know, you really shouldn’t leave your stuff just lying around all willy nilly.” He surfs the tv channels as your eye twitches with rage. “Could you move, sugar, you’re blocking the television.” He clears his throat and takes a swig from the beer bottle in his hand.

You lose it and yank the bottle from his hand, smashing it against the head rest on his chair, glass falling all over him, causing him to flinch.

“I’m gonna give you five seconds to tell me where the fuck my bear is, Barnes.” You voice shakes.

“Or what?” He smirks, dusting off the broken glass from his lap and standing up, the two of you now standing chest to chest. Or… face to collarbone, considering your smaller height.

You tackle him to the ground, wrapping your hands around his neck and choking him, not planning on stopping until his face turns blue.

Suddenly you hear footsteps and soon Steve is standing above you trying to pull you off of Bucky. It was difficult for him considering you had a strong grip around Bucky’s neck, his eyes beginning to glaze over as his face turns red.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you!” You shake him in your grasp before Steve finally pulls your hands from around his throat.

“You crazy bitch!” Bucky chokes out, gasping for air as he starts to stand.

“What’s the meaning of all this?!” Steve asks, still holding you back as tears threaten to spill from your eyes.

“He threw away my bear!” You screamed through angry tears.

“All this for a goddam bear? You almost murdered me you fucking psycho!”

“It was not just a bear! That bear has been my safe haven ever since I was a kid! That bear has been there for me when no one else has! That fucking bear kept me from my nightmares and you took it away from me, Bucky why?! Why do you alway have to mess with me I’ve done nothing to you! It’s not fair!” You yank yourself away, pushing Bucky at full force, making him stumble backwards a bit before catching his balance, his mouth agape as you stormed out of the room walking to lord knows where

“What the hell, Buck?” Steve walks towards him. “You can’t just do things like that to people. Not everyone is like us. This generation is soft. They need things like that to keep them going. Let’s not forget that you have nightmares too.” Steve scolds him as he holds his hands on his hips. Bucky knows Steve is right, he just didn’t think it was so serious.

“I… I didn’t know.” Bucky sits there, feeling guilty as he stares at the floor. Steve scoffs and begins to make his way toward the room’s exit.

“Well you better fix this Bucky. Before she burns your room to the ground with you in it.”

________

You take a walk around the city, damn near looking in every dumpster you saw to see if your stuffed bear was there, but no luck. So you headed back to the tower and took a shower, hoping the hot water would calm your nerves.

You really didn’t understand why Bucky did these types of things to you and it made you so angry that he hated you, especially when you’d never done a thing to him. Except fight him whenever he messed with you.

You got out of the shower and dried yourself, putting your towel in the hamper and opening the door to enter your room. However, you didn’t see Bucky sitting on your bed until you heard a manly yell fro the center of your room. Your eyes darted over to where he sat, covering his eyes as you screamed and tried to cover what you could with your hands.

“Why are you naked?!?” He screamed, still covering his eyes.

“Why are you in my room?!?” You hurried to your closet and snatched a long sleeved shirt from a hanger, luckily it was Steves and it hit your mid thigh.

“Well I wanted to apologize for stealing your bear and…” You looked see why he trailed off and saw your scuffed up, black teddy bear in his hands.

Without a second thought you ran to your bed snatched the bear from his grasp, hugging it tight before you wrapped Bucky in your arms as well. Bucky was stunned at first but wrapped his strong arms around your body, smiling as your wet hair damped his shirt.

“Thank you!” You held onto him, stuffing your face in his warm chest, inhaling his scent as he held onto you as tight as you did to him.

You stayed like that for a few minutes before you realized that he was the one who took your bear in the first place. With that, you pulled away and slapped the hell out of him with your right hand.

“Why did you lie about throwing it away you bastard? And why did you steal it in the first place?!” You pushed him back, sitting up on the bed with your bear in your left hand. He blinked a few times before answering, almost as if he didn’t really have an explanation.

“I don’t really know…I just… I guess I wanted to see how you’d react, in a way… I wanted you to be mad at me, if that makes sense. The only time you really give attention to me, is when you’re angry at me. I don’t why but, I think you’re so fucking sexy when you’re mad, sugar. Sometimes, I get so damn hard just knowing that you’re pissed at me.” Bucky couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. But in a way, it’s a relief considering he’s never even admitted any of this to himself. “So I guess I just kinda do things to piss you off in hopes that maybe one day you’ll do something about it.” His eyes trail from her eyes to her lips and stay there as he bites his bottom one.

“Oh.” You stare down at the stitches in your bed and think about what he just said, trying not to make it obvious that the sheets under you are soaking slowly.

“Can I kiss you, doll?” You look up at him as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and brings his palm to your cheek as he scoots closer, making your hart beat faster.

You lean forward to place a quick pec on his lips, before you could pull away he grabbed your waist and pulled you against his chest, kissing your jawline and your neck.

You fully straddle him and gently yank him back by his hair, nuzzling your face into his beard before nipping his scruffy cheek.

“Fuck, honey.”

You grab his chin and tilt his head downwards to make him look into your eyes.

“Be quiet.” You begin to unbuckle his belt and tug his pants down his legs before taking off his shirt, leaving him in just his underwear. You reach down to caress his length in your palm, watching as his becomes flustered, staring at your hand, his breathing steady, his cheeks red.

That wasn’t good enough for you.

You pushed his torso back, making him lay down before you planted kisses all the way down his body to his boxers. He sat up on his elbows to watch you, waiting for you to take them off. Instead, you slide your tongue along his clothed bulge, causing Bucky to shiver.

“Fuck, baby stop teasing, please.” His brows furrowed upwards as he bucked his hips up towards your face. You slap his thigh and run your teeth along his bulge, looking him straight in his lust blown eyes as he whimpers silently.

“You’ll get what I give you, James.” He groans, his head tilting back at the name you called him. You like this. A lot. You like having such a powerful man melting in the palm of your hand with just a the simple snap of a finger.

You pulled his stiff cock out of his underwear and took a long ogling look at it before making a move. It was thick and long, had veins protruding out all around the soft, milky shaft. His throbbing red tip, dripping with pre cum. You squeezed his balls, inspecting them as well, feeling just how big and juicy they are, not even realizing that Bucky was staring at you the whole time, with a smirk on his face as you finally locked eyes with him.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” He taunts as you clear your throat and get back to the task at hand. You start to tug on his cock slowly, letting the pre cum slick up your movements. You bring your mouth to his tip and circle it with your tongue before sucking on it, licking his dripping slit as you watch his reaction, still cupping his balls in your other hand.

His breathing is getting heavier, his plump lips are parted and his brows are arched, his eyes glazing over as you pull him in deeper, almost letting his tip hit the back of your throat before you pull back up, teasing him just a bit more, letting him know who’s still in charge.

“Goddammit, sugar take me all the way.” He whined, bucking his hips up towards your mouth again.

You finally decide to quit teasing him and sink your mouth all the way down his throbbing cock, taking in a deep breath before you pull him the rest of him into your throat until your nose hits the tuft of hair at his base. His right hand reaches up to pull your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

“Fuckin hell,” he gasps as he feels your throat convulse around him. His eyes roll back as you slowly wrench him from your throat, saliva stringing from his dick to your lips as you lift yourself from him.

You wipe your mouth as you jerk him off at a steady pase, his bucking up into your hand as you lock eyes.

“God, I can’t fuckin do this anymore,” he pulls your hand from his dick and yanks you from your position on the bed to straddle him, his wet cock pressing into your pussy folds. “I need to be inside you, sugar. Can I?” He rubs his dick against your pussy, making it hard for you to say no. You nod your head and that’s all he needs to lift you and take his cock into his hand, pumping it a few times before slowly sinking into you. You wince silently, trying not to show that his size is stretching you to the point where it’s painful.

“Fuck you’re tight.” He growls, laying down and placing his hands on your hips, letting you take control. He sees your eyes prickling with tears as he finally bottoms out, causing you to let out a shaky sigh of relief. “Shit, why didn’t you tell me i was hurting you?” He sits up immediately, bringing his hands to your cheeks, wiping your fallen tears with his thumb before pressing reassuring kisses to your lips. “We need to stop honey, I don’t want you to be in pain.” He rubs your lower back with his metal hand as you take deep breaths, shaking your head. He attempts to pull out before you put your hands on his chest push him to lay down, forcefully, his eyes widening as you start to move.

“No. I like it when it hurts a little.” You slowly lift yourself up and down his cock, hissing because of the prominent sting sprung from your core as he sits there, taken aback by your sudden dominance.

“Fuck, doll.” His head rolls back, his back falling to the bed before he brings his hands to your hips, attempting to push up into you faster than you were riding him.

You grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the bed, leaning down to kiss his neck, your breasts pressed flushed against his chest, as you sucked hard on his jaw.

“S-shit,” Bucky cursed. You looked up, rolling your hips a bit quicker, watching his red, blissed out face change to furrowed brows and an almost bleeding bottom lip from how hard he was biting it. “Fuck yes,” he whimpered as you changed pace and sped up. “You gonna take over me, sugar? Ride me for all I’m worth? Make me cum inside ya?”

“Yes, daddy!” You whine accidentally, pausing in neck as you stop your hips, releasing his wrists as you sit up you didn’t mean for it to slip but you just couldn’t help it. He just felt so damn good. “I-I’m so sorr-”

You’re cut off by Bucky slamming his lips against yours, flipping the both of you over and rolling his hips against yours, grinding his pelvis against your clit, making you whimper.

“You like it when daddy takes you like this, sugar?” He panted against your neck, pulling his hips all the way back until his tip was the only thing inside you before he slams his hips into yours, triggering your g-spot head on.

“Oh fuck!” You wrap your legs tight around his hips.

“Answer me,” he whispered, biting into your neck. Bucky unwrapped your legs from around his waist, letting your knees bend as he pushed your thighs apart. He wrapped his hand around your throat and squeezed a little on the sides.

“I said fucking answer me.” He squeezed a little harder and fucked you a little rougher.

“Yes.” You whispered, your eyes rolling back as your mouth gaped open. He spanked your thigh and slowed down his pace, still slamming into you but not as quick as before.

“Yes what, sweetheart?” Bucky caressed your neck as he waited for your response, pressing gentle kisses to your cheek while he teased you.

“Yes daddy.” You stared him in the eyes and let out a quiet but shaky breath.

“That’s my girl,” he leaned down to kiss your neck.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum daddy harder!” You tangle your hands into his hair. Bucky kissed you softly, slipping his tongue into your mouth. He slows his hips down to at least one soft yet deep thrust every five seconds

“You’ll get what I give you, sugar.” He smirks, his breathing getting heavier. He flips the both of you over and grips your waist, thrusting up into you hard and fast, just how you like it. Bucky’s thumb makes its way to your clit to rub in tight circles.

“I-I’m gonna cum,” you whisper, your head pointed towards the ceiling as you lean back and lay your hands on his thighs, spreading yourself out more.

“What was that, sugar?” He reaches up with his metal hand to gently grasp your breast, toying with your nipple while rubbing your clit faster with his flesh and blood hand. You whimper, unable to speak as your high creeps up on you. “You’re gonna cum for me? You’re gonna cum all over my cock?” He grunts, his thrusts getting harder.

And just like that, it hits you. Your vision turned spotty and everything goes slow-mo. Heat rises up through your core and makes its way to your face, causing your cheeks to flush and your back to arch. You squirm and shake against Bucky as you cum, your eyes rolling back as your climax hits it’s full peak. It sprouts through you like a roots would through dirt, slow but beautiful. You cry out Bucky’s name as his thrusts don’t let up, your nails digging into his flexed torso. This is the hardest you’ve ever came and its consuming you, taking you into darkness as you suffocate from the undying pleasure.

You start to shy away as it becomes to much, trying to pull away from him as you tremble. Bucky didn’t like that.

“No.” He growled, pulling you down to lay chest to chest against him. “You don’t get to leave until daddy fills your pretty little pussy with his cum, understand?” You nod your head, hiding your face in his sweaty neck. He smacks your ass with his metal hand, which makes you bite into his collar bone as you let out a whimper.

“Yes.” You whimper, panting as you move your hips against him. You weren’t expecting him to grab you by the hair snd yank you back to look him straight in his
steel blue eyes.

“Yes what?” He slows down the movement of his hips, tightening his grip on your hair.

“Yes daddy.” You whisper. He thrusts into you once, hard but deep. So deep it knocks the air from your lungs.

“Louder,”

“Yes daddy!” Your cracked voice shouts.

“Good girl.” He kisses your lips and let’s go of your hair, lifting you off of him a sitting up on his knees, shifting you to lay on your stomach before he pushes your upper body down towards the bad, letting your back arch. Bucky lines himself up with you once again before laying his hands on your hips and thrusting slow. “You’re my good girl aren'cha? You’re my good little girl.” Hi mumbles as he increases the speed of his thrusts, laying his metal hand on your lower back for support. He leans down to lay on you, lowering you down on the bed, holding himself up on one elbow as the other one stays on your hip.

“Fuuuck,” you growl as he sinks deeper into you, hitting your g-spot.

“You like that baby?” Bucky leans on his forearms, kissing your neck as he talks dirty in your ear. “You like getting fucked slow like this? You like suckin in every inch I give to this greedy little pussy? Dirty little girl.” He pumps into you faster, his breathing picking up as he grunts into your neck.

“Oh fuck, honey your pussy’s so damn good.” He praises you, nibbling on your ear. He reaches underneath you and rubs your clit, trying to get you to cum before he does. “You gonna let me fuck you from now on? Gonna sleep with me? Gonna let me be your teddy bear?” Buck bites into your shoulder.

“Yes daddy.”

“You gonna be my good girl from now on, sugar?” You feel his cock pulse inside of you, signaling that he’s close.

“Yes, daddy.” You promised to him as you came again, moaning out his name as he thrusters into you mercilessly

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum baby girl you’re squeezin me so damn tight.” He hides his face into your neck, almost whining as he feels you clench around him. “I’m cumming… fuck! Take it, take it, take it!” He chants, growling as he fills your pussy with his release, some spilling out of you as he keeps thrusting. He slows his hips down to a stop after you’ve milked him dry, collapsing on top of you, holding some of his weight on his forearm while he pants heavily against your neck, holding you close as his hips twitch every few seconds.

“You okay, baby?” You ask when your breathing has finally slowed down.

“Yeah… I just need a minute.” You can hear the grin in his words as he kisses the love bites he left all over your neck and shoulders.

“What happened to that super soldier stamina I was promised?” You giggled as he bit you playfully.

“I made you cum twice, sugar, you could at least give a guy a break.” Bucky playfully smacked your ass before he slowly pulled out, backing up a bit to watch his cum leak down your thighs. “Shit,” he cursed as he spread your asscheeks, looking at the way his release mixed with yours and dripped out of you. You smirked as you gently clenched your pussy, pushing some of his cum out of you.

“Dammit, sugar don’t get me goin’ again.” He chuckled as he got up to use the restroom. Your eyes drifted closed as you laid down flat on your stomach and let sleep take over you.

Bucky comes back with a warm wet towel and smiles as he catches you sleeping. He quietly makes his way over to the bed and cleans your thighs and your pussy before putting the towel into the dirty clothes hamper and laying down next to you, pulling the fluffy white comforter over the both of you and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close to him before kissing your temple, hoping he’ll fall asleep tonight instead of staring at your beautiful sleeping face. He smiles as you wrap your arms around him and hold him in your sleep. Just like a teddy bear.

At that moment Bucky realizes that he’s falling hard for you. He just hopes you’ll feel the same when he finally confesses.

________
A/N: Bucky gave her that “go to sleep” dick
Tags: @gaybybirth