sharp finger

03. Valentine’s Day (M)

A/N: In honor of it being Valentine’s Day, I’ve decided to embrace my trash self and write a little mini scenario for each member. Some are PWP some have backstory but they are all filled with filthy smut. Enjoy xx. :’)

Genre/Warnings: Smut; (pardon my vulgarities) featuring a Possessive Seokjin, The Pussy-Eating King Yoongi, Candle Expert Hoseok, Daddy Joon, Sub Jimin, Smug Tae, and Creative Kook.


Seokjin:

It was incredibly rare when Seokjin let his composure go and his patience wear thin. Normally he was gentle, the man taking every bit of his time to map your body out, making sure he takes notice as to what gets you writhing in pleasure beneath him. He’s patient, always putting you first, and he never asks for anything in return. But there are certain things that make him tick – one being when another man can’t seem to keep his eyes to himself.

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4

Crimson Peak (deleted scene) | ‘Lucille at the piano’

3

I made some Gem redesigns! I’m planning to do some of the homeworld gems next. 

My main motivator for these redesigns was the fact that I’m super disappointed that all the gems look so plain…(like for example I was really hoping Sapphire wasn’t going to have legs or that Peridot actually had cool floaty fingers) and I’ve seen some really neat monster-esc designs for them!

I wanted to do my own little spin on making the gems a bit less human while also adding in a few things that I thought I’d like to add/change (like their colours and Garnets hair most of all lol) 

@stevenuniverseredesigns

Some explanation for each of them under the cut!

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Mirror For The Sun - Part 7: The Grand Tetons

Masterlist  -  Series Masterlist  -  Part 6 - Part 8 

Summary: (Bucky POV) Nat tricks you into leading a road trip with Bucky, Sam and Steve. Her plot is partly to get the boys to travel for fun for once but mostly to get you and Bucky together. You and Bucky, who seemingly despise each other.

Warnings: swearing, super mild smoot (it’s not really even smut)

Word Count: 4501

Author’s Note: This part is way too damn long. I really just like the ending. But I also couldn’t figure out what I wanted to cut so you’re getting all of it.

Originally posted by annutystan

As we climb back to the car, Y/N has slipped off of Sam’s shoulders and shoved past him, nearly running up the trail, farther away from Sam. And from me. When we make it to the top of the trail and the edge of the parking lot, Steve looks to me with a shocked and unsure shrug, lifting his hands up in question. She barely speaks to anyone, only muttering a disgruntled, “Trunk, please” to Steve.

Once we’ve changed into dry clothes, Y/N tosses her now useless phone haphazardly into the trunk and grabs for her dated Atlas before slipping into the car without a word. She doesn’t move closer to me, she doesn’t look up from her Atlas. Goddamn it. She’s so upset. “Go left,” she instructs with a heavy sigh as she flips through the pages until she finds the map for South Dakota. She traces over an already marked road until it reaches the end of the page, before moving quickly over to Wyoming.

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Imagine: teasing Sam while he’s hacking.

Sam X Reader

Content: Smut: Dry Humping


Sam’s fingers flew over the suspect’s keyboard. Flashes of color flickered over his face as he cycled between screens quickly with a shortcut maneuver. You watched as he licked his lips, intently focused on hacking into a zipped folder. His eyes narrowed catching some detail of significance. When he swallowed, your eyes followed the shift of his throat greedily. You pulled your eyes away attempting to continue through a pile of paper on the suspect’s end table. A slip of paper dropped from the stack in your hands, catching the air to flutter to the floor behind you. You turned to pick it up, eyes drifting over an accent mirror near the far wall. You paused. Sam’s eyes had lifted from the monitor to your form. You ducked your head hiding a smirk. Keeping a secret eye on the mirror, you stood, lifting your ass first in fluid motion you often used when dancing. He licked his lips, shifting lower in his seat. Shuffling the papers in hand, you turned just in time to see his head snap back to the computer.

“Got it.” He cleared his throat after a minute.

You dropped the papers on the end table, sauntering to the desk with renewed confidence.

“It looks like there’s a thread of emails here and-” His explanation was cut short as he glanced up at you.

You slid onto his lap, resting your elbows on the thin strip of cleared table before the keyboard keeping your back arched forward. You could hear him gulp audibly and feel him shift awkwardly trying to find a place to put his hands.

“What emails?” You asked innocently, seeing full well the emails in a smaller window behind the main one.

Sam released a shaky breath. He moved forward, chest pressing against your back as he reached for the mouse. You leaned against him, tilting your head to the side to give him view of the monitor. His breath touched your neck bringing a tingle to travel across your skin. You didn’t suppress the light shudder it caused.

“It’s, uh, here.” He replied breathlessly.

You responded with a deep hum. A smirk curled your lips as he shifted beneath your thighs. You scrolled through the emails, which would have been painfully dull if not for the pleasant distraction hardening every time you slid forward or back to “readjust” your reading position. Finally, you finished. Making a show of stretching your arms upward, you unleashed a satisfied moan and turned to face Sam. For his effort, he attempted to look unaffected. A muscle twitched in his jaw and his nails dug into the leather armrests.

“So, it doesn’t seem like the emails contained much, did they?” You asked in hushed tones.

He glanced between you and the monitor quickly, obviously having no idea what was in the emails. You twisted in his lap, grinding against an evident bulge between your legs.

“Sam?” You lowered your eyelashes, “You okay?”

“Yeah.” His eyes darkened briefly lowering to your lips before he found composure. “Yeah, fine.”

“Are you sure? It seems like you’re having a… hard time focusing.”

His hand paused halfway to the mouse.

“I know these emails can be… lengthy,” You continued finding it increasingly difficult to hide a smirk, “and having to sort through them is… really shafty…”

Sam sat back, embarrassment coloring his features.

“I know it would really… grind… my gears if I had to hack into every dude’s computer while Dean gets to take a break at the bar.”

“Are you done?” Sam interrupted.

“No, no… wait! I think I can come up with something for penetration and erection-”

Hot lips met the juncture of your shoulder and neck with leisurely-paced open-mouthed kissed, effectively transforming your teasing words into a sharp inhale. His fingers wrapped around your hips, gripping your pelvis firmly before pulling it back. A flash of sudden pleasure surged through your core. His nose dragged against your shoulder inching closer to your neck, heat building between your flushed bodies. A shiver ripped up your spine as he found a sensitive spot. He paused, pressing a kiss there. Your head lolled back against his shoulder. His hands slipped up your body, sliding under your shirt. His rough fingers pressed and caressed in disorganized trails, drawing each nerve to maximum stimulation. You gasped, unable to stop an onslaught of shivers from his touch. He sucked at the spot on your neck, locking his arm around your waist as you squirmed with assailing pleasure. His tongue flicked against the spot, his teeth following immediately. A cry broke from your lips. You slapped a hand over your mouth, surprised by the outburst. Sam chuckled darkly against your skin, the deep rumble sending an aching between your thighs.

“Oh, fuck…” You breathed, heat enveloping your body with a savage ferocity.

His hands grabbed your chest, barely restraining his strength as he kneaded. He closed his fingers over hardening nubs sending your hips to jerk forward in response. You bit your tongue holding back a moan, as your clit rubbed along his impossibly hard shaft. He moved quickly, grabbing your hips with a near bruising force. Every nerve in your body seeped with the heat building between you, overreacting with every little stimulus. Pleasure pulsed through your body with every breath hitting the tiny hairs along the nape of your neck, each finger digging against your hips, and every inch where your center rubbed against his.

He thrust up pulling your hips back. Sparks of unadulterated ecstasy exploded from the friction. Before the sensation could cool, he pushed you forward. White flashed before your vision. A helpless moan left your lips, an animalistic need for contact infecting every cell in your brain. You jerked against him, heat blazing, pleasure mounting endlessly. He grunted desperately against your ear, whimpers rising from your throat as you grinded together fueling an erotic fire threatening to consume your entity. There was nothing but sharp concentrated pleasure coursing through your core like live electricity. A strangled cry broke the room as he thrust against your sliding bodies finding an edge so high, you couldn’t believe a pleasure could be so intense, but it kept building, growing until you found a new edge before the other could finish. Your body shuddered, head falling to his shoulder, completely at his mercy.

He embraced your body, crushing you against him as he stiffened, broken groans tumbling from his chest as he shuddered against your back.You squeezed your legs together, his hold slackening as you felt a warm stickness in the apex of your jeans. You slid to his knees, turning to see Sam’s face. Surprise, mirroring your own expression, bloomed from a devastatingly sexy look of contentment. You jerked off his lap, stumbling to your feet.

“S-sorry!” You yelped, yanking your head away from the dark patch on his jeans.

“N-no, I’m…” The chair crashed into the wall as he pushed to his feet. He skirted around the opposite side of the desk muttering something you couldn’t catch over the blood pounding in your ears.

He retreated from the room. Your hands trembled, pleasure still lingering along your skin from his contact, as you hugged yourself close. It seemed the heat would never cool and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

An Aesthetic:
  • Whispers, stars, mint tea, mirrors, poetry books, getting random ideas, questioning everything, heavy blankets, cold water, cloudy skies, dancing by yourself to classical music, organizing things, writing rapidly, binary, geometric patterns, cold fingers, crisp folds, clean sheets, snow in your hair, white blossoms, thrumming your fingers, sharp laughter, frost, writing on your skin, staring at the ceiling, pondering existence, staying up way too late, chapped lips, perfect high-fives, the smell of hand sanitizer, waking up to thunder, finishing an assignment, automated voices, electronic music, neat handwriting.

I haven’t titled this yet, but here’s a preview. Feedback is much appreciated :) 

As much as he was used to this ritual you had of never keeping your hands off him the first twenty-four hours he was gone away from anywhere, and as much as he knew that you wanted to absolutely devour him even before he got into your arms once he climbed down the stairs of his jet, he was never fully used to it.

           It always left a bubble in his tummy, a tiny nervous bubble he only gets before shows or when he knows he must leave you for a long period of time. But this was a good nervous, the kind of nervous that always raised the question, ‘what has she got in store this time?’

           He heard the back-door creak open, a smile played on the corners of his lips as he looked out into his backyard over the patio in his two-story home, knowing full and well your arms would be around him soon. He stood still, his ears perked up when your footprints came closer on the wood, wine glass in his hand, taking a swig of the blood red liquid, smirking when he could smell your shampoo.

           You had just gotten out of the shower, following a massive dinner he had made, and then proceeded to have you as dessert, right there on the table. Your hands roamed up his massive back, one hand trailing over his shoulder to grip his chest, while the other wrapped around his tummy. Trapped in a hug from the back, you kissed the freckle right between his shoulder blades.

           “Mmm,” you hummed and took a big breath of his skin, the hand on his tummy trailing down to his happy trail, scratching at the hair. He took in a sharp breath as your fingers danced softly on his skin.

           Before you knew it, he had turned to face you, holding you around the waist.

           “Easssy, tiger,” he kissed your forehead. You pouted in protest and he smiled, setting his wine glass down on the ledge behind him, standing to his feet.

           “I can’t help it”, you started placing wet kisses on his chest, scratching your nails up his back. Your kisses kept dropping lower, your leg jut out behind you and you were about to get on your knees when he grabbed your elbow and pulled you back to your feet. Another pout adorned your lips and he full out laughed this time, kissing your lips.

           “Needy girl, are you?” he was still smiling softly, biting his lip, “not out here, baby,” he lovingly pulled you into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. His back hit the door and you wasted no time pressing more kisses to his chest as you heard an ‘oof’ leave his chest from your gentle push, un-wrapping the tie of your robe, kissing the spot right under his neck, your hands dancing on the waistband of his sweats.

           “Slow down, slow down,” he giggled a bit between your kisses to his nose and his mouth, both of your hands gripping his bum under his pants, “M’right here, not goin’ anywhere for a little while,” he assured you, but you didn’t care. He was yours, and yours to worship, and you were planning on doing that. Every second you got.

           “I have a surprise,” you finally mumbled out on his neck, squeezing his ass.

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There is a garden and we are still digging it up.

We peel apart the veins of flora just to get a closer look at what makes everything hurt so goddamn much. We press our fingers down sharp on every bruise and call it love and art and poetry and the processing of emotion as it lends itself to healing.

And I say, it’s tender but isn’t it done? And you say, it’s tender but isn’t it over? And then we still write soliloquies about softening in each other’s mouths. I still ask you to put your hands on me without washing off any of the dirt.

And you say, baby. And you say, honey. And you say, don’t you love the way the trees sing when the cicadas are out? 

And I am in the garden. And all the trees are humming.
—  AFTER CRUELTY by Trista Mateer
Liberty Pt.8

Originally posted by enchanted-forests

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Peggy x Steve, Wanda x Sam

AU: Pirates of the Caribbean Universe

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Wanda Maximoff, Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter, Sam Wilson, Peter Parker, Baron Zemo, Alexander Pierce, Blackbeard

Warnings for this fic: Angst, smut, running away, profanity, violence, self defense practicing, injury, alcohol.

Warnings for this chapter: Waking up disorientated, hella crying, sexual assault mention, bodily harm, flashbacks and nightmares, fluff, sam and wanda fluff. Interrogation, Pierce being an asshole.
Smut, not full blown tho, thigh riding, please tell me if i’ve forgotton anything

Word Count: 3861

A/N: I hope everyone likes this chapter, it’s taken me like a week, i hope its not too bad. though there are some sensitive subjects listen in the warnings. Just to say, if anyone has suffered any form of assault, people are willing to listen and my ask/message box is always open. Stay strong guys n dolls.
I’m also very effing tired so sorry if there are any mistakes

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7


Your world had stopped. Your hair and skin was stained with the blood of a man you had never provoked, you were a statue, stuck, unwilling to move, the stench of iron in your lungs.

And then everything was black.


A sharp tingling in his fingers was all Bucky could feel as he made way from his spot on the quarterdeck.

Shit, shit, shit.” Bucky seethed. He scrambled towards your unconscious body. Wanda was shifting you into the safety position, gently moving your dead-weight limbs in the correct way.

As Bucky approached you, he took your tired body into his arms, carrying you bridal into his cabin, “Wanda, I’d like you to tend to Y/N, please, in case there’s anything wrong with her. I need to sort out Rumlow and Pierce.” His voice was gruff and worn.

‘Course, Captain.

After gently resting you on the bed, Bucky stormed out of the cabin in haste. As he approached Rumlow’s lifeless body, he gave it a swift kick in the head with his right foot, earning a sharp crack of the bones within.

That’s what you get for fucking with my patience, prick.

Bucky, what are we gonna do with Pierce?” Sam grumbled as he hid the dead body behind a crate, grimacing.

He’s going to clean up this mess.” Bucky scowled, pointing down at the blood and tissue slapped against the decking.

Sam scurried towards the hatch that opened to the bottom deck, holding his pistol in a white-knuckled fist.

Pierce, Captain Barnes wants you.” Sam earned a huff and a disheveled man approaching from the dark shadows of the decks below. “Now!


Is there something you need, Captain?” Alexander rolled his eyes.

Ah! Pierce! Just the man I needed, I need you to clean this mess up,” Bucky commented, his dramatic gesture towards the dark trail dripping with sarcasm.

As Alexander grabbed the mop and bucket from the side of the ship, he began to mop what he thought was vomit, but when the stench of iron filled his withering lungs, he wondered why Brock hadn’t come back from…

Where’s Rumlow?” Alexander asked shakily, not full of fear but anger.

If thou looks thou shalt find,” Bucky mumbled matter-of-factly whilst pretending to pick at his nails.

As the elder man followed the crimson trail he found the deceased body of Brock.

What on earth-

Tell me what he was planning.” Scowl, jaw clenching, brows furrowing.

I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Alexander exclaimed, practically shaking in his worn leather boots as Sam held the barrel against his matted grey hair.

Bull-fucking-shit, Pierce, tell me what Brock was doing, what he was planning against Y/N, or even me for all I know, or I promise Sam will put a bullet in that thick skull of yours just like I did to your little partner in crime.” Bucky was full of wrath, but he kept his voice low so he didn’t wake up his crew.

We targeted her because… She’s young a-and pretty and-

“Because you’re both disgusting pigs that objectify women and try to force them to satisfy your needs. Let me enlighten you, on your future journey aboard my ship,” Bucky sauntered closer to the disheveled man in front of him and continued in a low whisper, “now that your little friend has tried my patience and trust and I have had to waste a bullet, you will do as I say until I am done with you, you will not lay a finger on anyone, including myself and Y/N. I’m taking your firearms and weapons, henceforth taking your dignity. Consider yourself a man of the brig, Mr. Pierce.

Sam lowered his pistol and stuffed it into his belt, keeping a watchful eye on Pierce as he continued to clean up the bloody mess on the brown flooring.

I’ve got my eyes on you. Keep on cleanin’, white boy.

~

Who’s going to get rid of the body?” Wanda asked, biting her fingernails.

She had tucked you into bed once she finished cleaning the cut on your throat and the blood from your sweat sodden skin. She had the decency to change you out of your confinements too, the fabrics were chucked into a metal bucket full of hot water so the blood wouldn’t stain. Your limp body had made it hard for Wanda to dress you in a spare blouse, but the hard work had paid off.

I was the one to kill him and I think I should be the one to chuck him overboard. Sam, would you think strapping a pair of boons to his feet would make him sink?

I think it would, Buck.” Sam snorted.

Well then, I’ll be back shortly.

With that, Bucky made his way to the main deck. He never intended to kill anyone, but when someone threatens someone he cares about most dear, his simmering anger turns to an over-boiled rage that cannot be contained. Sometimes he could control it, sometimes he couldn’t. Not this time, anyway. Shooting Brock Rumlow’s brains out was a rational thing to do, seeing as he was holding a very sharp dagger to his lady’s throat.

What he didn’t understand was why. Why? Why did he target you? Was there something Pierce wasn’t confessing? Was it something else?

He would never know now unless Pierce spilled his guts, and that’s why unwanted guilt washed over him like cold water as he steadied the dead body over the edge of the ship.

May the gods have mercy on your soul Brock Rumlow, because I fucking won’t.


As you woke up, you realised it was far from dawn due to the faint white rays of moonlight pouring through the small windows. Through tired, cloudy eyes you looked at your surroundings. You were in yours and Bucky’s shared bedchamber, though he was nowhere in sight. Glancing up at the clock, you noticed the large hand on the eleven and the smaller hand near the twelve.

How long had you been out for?

You looked down your body to find that you were dressed in one of Bucky’s worn blouses, who dressed you? Who cleaned you? Was Brock dead? Was everyone OK?

You had so many questions.

You carefully slipped from beneath the silk sheets of the warm bed and tiptoed towards the cabin.

Bucky?” You called, your vision was still foggy from sleep, and you felt a throbbing sensation on the side of your throat. You peered into a nearby mirror and discovered you had a small gash on the side of your neck from where Brock had fallen behind you, his dagger had obviously caught but you were lucky it was just a small cut and no a full slice across the front.

Y/N? How are you feeling?” Bucky’s voice broke you out of your thoughts, his hands gently resting on your shoulders.

“I, er, I don’t know really,” You gulped, tears formed in the corner of your eyes as you spoke, “Everything… Everything is just… Lord, I’m sorry Bucky-

Hey- no need for that, my love, none of this- NONE, of this is your fault. You’ve just been the victim of a very fucked up person, this was all HIS doing, not yours, don’t you even dare, for a second, think that you should blame yourself.” Bucky then tugged you to his chest as you let a few tears slip, you felt strong hands rub your back and stroke your hair as you breathed deep breaths.

He said… He said he would have slit my throat, d-drained me and t-then used my body as a toy or s-something,” you hiccuped then, wincing as the scene replayed in your head, “and he said Pierce would be in on it too- and he said something about not risking Blackbeard- my father’s blade again.

Listen, you’re safe now, I… You know what I’ve done to Rumlow, he’s long gone, probably eaten by a shark or stolen by a siren by now. Though, Pierce is being kept in the brig behind bars, away from everyone else.” You furrowed your brows then, but before you could speak Bucky finished his sentence.  “I’ll let you kick his ass soon, maybe shoot him in the foot.” You let out a watery giggle then, sniffling slightly. You saw the devotion in Bucky’s soft eyes then, along with his loving smile.

You realised then, that you loved this man, this big soft soul wrapped in steel skin, with silky brown hair and eyes as blue as the ocean tides. You didn’t want to say it so soon- so you just tugged his head down to yours so you could press a tender kiss to his lips. It was a passionate kiss, but there was no tongue, or groans or moans. Sheer bliss and you pulled away only slightly, your lips ghosting over his.

May I ask who took care of me whilst you done whatever you did?

It was Wanda, I-I didn’t know whether you would have wanted I, a male, to touch you whilst unconscious, so I asked Wanda, a female, and your friend, to help you. Seeing as she’s uh… tended to your… womanly needs before-

Hush, James, I know what you mean. Thank you for respecting me.” You press a soft kiss to his lips, inwardly sighing at the warm contact as his hands cupped your jaw. “I’m hungry, but… I think I should get some clothes on first.


What do you think will happen?” Sam asked quietly as he stood behind his love, head resting his head on her shoulder.

I don’t know, Sam, just know, that whatever happens, we’ll find a way out of it, we always do.” Wanda murmured, her hands resting on the ones draped gently across her shoulders, stroking his knuckles softly.

Hey, look up, see that? Shooting star, better make a wish, darlin’.” Sam chuckled, his eyes stuck on the beautiful lass in front of him, she was his wish come true, so he didn’t have to ask for anything more.

I couldn’t wish for anything more than you, Sam.


You had spent the hour with Bucky in the main area of the cabin, you hadn’t exited the large room, therefore, you didn’t have to change. Bucky had kindly gone to the galley and fetched some bread, fruit and wine for you. You both sat by his desk, munching away.

As the clock chimed one, you and Bucky both bid goodnight to Wanda and Sam once they popped their heads through the door to do the same. As you both got comfortable in bed, you shuffled closer to one another, basking in each other's’ warmth and company. You felt Bucky yawn, his hard chest heaving against your cheek, causing you to yawn also.

Yawning is as contagious as the black death, dare I say,” Bucky muttered tiredly, the vibrations of his voice relaxing you. His hands absentmindedly delved underneath the loose fabric of the baggy blouse that adorned your frame. His fingers traced light lines from your waist to your shoulder, slightly edging the blouse further and further up, the sound of even breathing and steady ocean waves lulled you to sleep.


During the early hours of the morning, you were jolted out of your sleep. Bucky had awoken too - having the ability to feel what you’re feeling - he felt the sweat roll down your temple, your erratic breathing and the tears burning in your eyes.

You were on high alert, you felt so panicked and scared. It hadn’t been a whole day and you were already having night terrors, Brock’s disfigured face haunted and tormented the insides of your eyelids, screaming into your dreaming ears, the feeling of cold steel still against your throat and sticky blood coating your skin like thick paint.

Bucky could feel you going into an erratic, panicked state and he shuffled closer to you to try and make you feel his gentle, calming touch. As his calloused hands made contact with yours, you looked at him with wide eyes. It felt like you were drowning, you couldn’t breathe and your head felt too heavy for your body like a siren out of the water.

Shh, Y/N, it’s okay, he’s not here, he can’t touch you anymore, he’s dead, he’s gone, long gone. Breathe with me, darling, breathe nice and deep, there we go,” You shuffled closer to him and rested your head on his shoulder, nuzzling your face into his neck whilst your shoulders heaved with muscle-straining sobs. Bucky’s voice alone eased you to calmness again, and you slumped against him, tired and spent from the panic attack.

I hope God has no mercy on that wretched man because I certainly won’t.” You groaned. You felt your head throb with pain from a number of tears you had shed now and then.

I said the exact same thing, doll, I said the exact same thing. But just remember that I’m here for you, Wanda is here for you, so is Sam. You’re welcome to jump aboard Steve’s ship and talk to him or Peggy as well, they’re basically… only next door.” He finished his words with a firm kiss on your forehead. You snorted a little, rubbing your tired eyes.

You twisted your head to look at the large grandfather clock, it was only three in the morning and you still had time to rest but you were so, so petrified of the pictures flashing behind your eyelids again.

Then the reality of this whole situation combusted inside your chest, the realisation that your father, the most feared pirate in all continents, was probably out roaming the seas looking for you. What if he was angry? You shook the thought from your mind when you realized that you never owed him any explanation; he had tried courting you off with a strange man that was only interested in sex and breeding to keep his bloodline going, he paid barely any attention to you and he shrugged you off most of the time.

Bucky, Wanda, Sam, Steve, Peggy… They were your home now, not Port Royal. Your father could attempt to steal you away from the man you love and take you back to the island but there was a high chance of him being at the pointy end of everyone’s swords.

Most of the crew had taken a liking to you, apart from Pierce and the late Brock Rumlow, obviously, the thought made you shudder again.

Y/N, darling, please rest -” Bucky whispered, his fingers gently ghosting against the skin of your neck. His large hand gently cradled your head as his thumb soothed over your earlobe, making you relax into his touch. You peered down to see the covers tangled between both your legs, putting them on show.

Bucky- you never told me about that scar -” You ran your finger lightly over the thick scar on thigh, the tissue was painted in pinks and whites small tinges of red, the pattern almost resembled that of a map, like it was a guide to his soul. The thought made you smile a little and Bucky’s hand came to rest on yours as you traced the jagged edges of the memory etched upon his skin.

“I was a boy- probably about nine or ten years old, I had knocked over an oil lamp on my father’s ship and where the flame had caught my trousers the oil seeped straight through, I was running around like a lunatic, shouting for my father and the fire didn’t stop,” You peered up at Bucky to see him smiling, as if it was one of his fondest memories. “one jackass decided to pour rum on my leg, yeah, rum. The asshole thought it would extinguish the flames but alas, it did not. By then the mixed chemicals were already singing off my skin and I ended up with a third-degree burn, it was much bigger what it seems now, much bigger, it was so, so painful, as well.” Bucky grimaced as he looked down at the scarring.

Well, Bucky, it definitely isn’t ugly, I assure you that.” You smiled up at him, your fingers still dancing around the seams of his beautiful flaw, and you felt him shiver at the contact. You pressed a light kiss on his jawline, lingering a bit longer than usual.

Are you trying to give me a love bite, Miss L/N?” Bucky teased, his voice low and drawn out as his head tilted sideways, giving you access to the soft and stubble skin of his neck and jaw.

Hmm, maybe, Captain Barnes, though one does not know how to do such a thing.” Your comment didn’t surprise him, but he pulled back to look at you anyway.

Would you like me to show you, angel?” His blue eyes gazed down upon yours as he spoke his words, his tantalizing bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

You were unsure of what was to come, but you nodded your head anyway. You knew Bucky could sense your nervousness, as he pulled your face closer to his and took your lips in a passionate kiss.

“I’m gonna kiss you here,” one short kiss to your jaw, “here,” a lingering kiss to the area underneath your ear, which made you sigh only slightly, “and all round here, angel.

Bucky began to lather your neck with kisses filled with lips teeth and tongue, Bucky worked his mouth over the soft flesh, earning a sharp moan to leave your throat as you felt a wonderful feeling between pain and pleasure envelope your mind. He nibbled softly, his tongue soothing over the spots almost instantly, but you moaned aloud when he blew cool onto the dampened spot, and you subconsciously hiked your thigh upwards and over his strong one.

Bucky shifted and grabbed a hand-mirror from the nightstand and pointed it at you, gently tilting your head. Your jaw went slack when you saw a pinky-purple splotch on the side of your neck, though you didn’t get a chance to react because Bucky had gone back to attacking your neck with more and more kisses.

He bit down a harder on the spot over your jugular as your cloth covered heat made contact with his thigh. Bucky’s large hands left your hips and neck to grasp your bum, making you straddle his thick thigh.

You wanna rock them pretty hips against my thigh, my love? Hmm?” Bucky’s gravelly voice sent shocks right through you. “Let me show you how useful this big ol’ scar can be sweetheart.” His words could be deceived as innocent if spoken in a different manner, but they were so erotic you couldn’t help but moan into his mouth.

Oh, Bucky, I- how does this feel so g-good?” You dropped your head to his broad shoulder as his hands found your bum, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, kneading and spreading your cheeks so you ground down harder onto him and so he could feel almost all of your heat against the sensitive skin of his scarred thigh. He paid no attention to the erection that tented against the large blouse adorning his body, his focus was on you, your body, your facial expressions, and most of all, the feeling of your damp little pussy grinding against him through a barrier of thin cotton.

You felt the pressure on your clothed clit as it dragged against the rough skin of his thigh, the knot in your stomach tightened further and further, making your legs quiver over his and your hips stuttered so badly that Bucky had to guide you himself, pushing you down a little bit harder, making you splutter out a moan.

Bucky’s eyes met yours and he could see that there was no colour left - your pupil had blown so wide he could barely see any of the pretty Y/E/C that usually resided there.

Mhmm, keep rocking your hips my love - the contact of your pussy against me might just send me over the edge alone, God.” He pulled your neck down so he could press his mouth to yours again, your moans and gasps giving him access to explore your lips and tongue with his tongue.

One of his hands drifted over your loose blouse and cupped your breast, squeezing it gently and his thumb grazed over your nipple through the thin fabric.

Are you gonna cum, angel?” You hummed against his mouth, overridden with euphoria and pleasure. Bucky took a moment before using his hand that was on your breast to part your lips, his tongue brushed against yours and he sucked it slightly, making you grind your hips hard into him, resulting in that final tug in the knot of your stomach to release.

Unngh, Bucky- Fuck- Captain-” You groaned loudly, you swore the ship rocked again as you threw your head back in ecstasy.

That’s it, kitten, just ride it out. Such a good girl for me, aren’t you? Did it feel good, my love?” Bucky’s voice was hoarse from arousal and it made the slick wetness of your heat coat the insides of your thighs.

Mmm, yes, B-Bucky it was… wow.

Do you feel a bit better now? A bit sleepy?” He shifted your legs so they were fully straddling his waist, you felt his hard erection press against your stomach and sighed. Nuzzling into his shoulder, you mumbled in thanks and pressed a lazy open-mouthed kiss on his neck, sucking slightly.

Bucky gasped at your bold movements, feeling your soft plump lips suck at his neck, then your teeth nipping gently and your tongue darting out to sooth the red skin in little strokes.

You raised your head to him, lids heavy with post-pleasure. “Mhmm, I just gave you a love-bite Captain Barnes, and it’s almost as pretty as you.

Your arms hooked around his broad shoulders again, trying to bring yourself closer to him, you kissed him slowly and softly, but your clumsiness got the better of you, making you fall down on top of him, your chest pushing against his firm one as you sat on his waist. With this angle, you felt his hardness completely against you, but you were so tired you hadn’t caught yourself falling asleep on top of him, your wild hair fanning behind you.

Bucky chuckled at your sleeping state, fairly pleased with himself. He had managed to calm you down, make you sleepy again and distracted you so you wouldn’t have any nightmares about the previous night.

Mmm, ahluhyou Buck.


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anonymous asked:

can we get alex touching herself for maggie?

Hells yeah we can.

She’s exhausted – emotionally, mentally, physically – she’s exhausted, she’s drained.

But god, does she want her.

She wants her on her tongue, wants her in her blood, wants Maggie every way it’s possible to want someone. Every way she never thought she could want someone.

But she’s not the only one whose body is bruised and whose heart is scarred; not the only one who was activated by the sight, the sound, the reality, of Lilian Luthor, in their presence, in their bar.

The bar where Lilian had orchestrated the massacre of so many of Maggie’s friends. Just because of…

Alex won’t think about it, can’t, but she knows enough to let the woman who’s burning her skin with pleasant flames just with the power of memory, of fantasy, of love… she knows enough, grieves enough, to let Maggie sleeps.

Because sleep is all too rare, these days.

So Alex tries not to wake her and she tries not to disturb her, but god, god, fuck, she wants her.

She bites her lip as her eyes graze over Maggie’s sleeping, peaceful face, hair tossed slightly over her forehead.

She bites her lip as she slips her hand, quietly, quietly, down her own pajama pants.

She bites her lip to help her swallow her gasp as her strong fingers sweep over her clit.

She bites her lip and she rolls her hips slightly, softly, desperately trying not to wake Maggie, but god, does she need more. 

She needs more, because images of Maggie’s tongue between her legs, the feeling of her fingers slipping deep, deep inside her, the ecstasy of her mouth on her nipples, her hands on her ass, flash through her mind and tear through her body.

She glances at Maggie – still sleeping peacefully – and she shifts.

Shifts so she’s laying on her stomach instead of on her back, shifts so when her fingers draw hard, fast circles right above her clit, the added pressure of the mattress, of gravity, courses through her veins.

She tries to breathe into her pillow so her increasingly ragged breath doesn’t wake her; tries to keep her hips relatively still so the movement rocking the bed doesn’t disturb her; but when she thinks about, dreams about, fantasizes about, the way Maggie’s head tilts back, the way her fingers reach up for Alex’s breasts, the way Maggie moans her name like a prayer, when Alex rides her, needy and reckless and solid, Alex can’t stop the sharp hiss of breath from forcing out of her lips.

“Danvers?” 

Maggie’s voice is groggy and thick with sleep, and Alex curses internally, swallowing a whine, her body frozen.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Go back to sleep babe, it’s only me.”

But Maggie blinks her eyes open and the effect would be adorable if Alex weren’t so turned on.

“You okay? Did you have another nightmare, Ally, did you – “

But her eyes sweep down to the way Alex’s hands are pinned beneath her body, underneath her hips; the way Alex’s face is flushed, the way she’s breathing quickly, the way her eyes are fire and clarity and thirst.

“Danvers,” she says again, and her voice is still full of the gravel of sleep, but now it’s layered with something else. Something deeper, something needier. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to uh… disturb.”

Alex turns so her face is buried in her pillow, groaning, and Maggie slips closer to her instantly.

“Hey, hey, Alex, look at me.”

“No.”

“Alex, please, babe.”

Alex shifts so one eye is off the pillow, and the little Maggie can see of her face is tinged with red.

“I’m sorry, Maggie, it… I didn’t mean to wake you, and it’s stupid, and I – “ 

She starts shifting off her stomach as she talks, and Maggie hovers her hands just shy of touching her, but the effect is the same: Alex stills.

“Whoa whoa, Alex, no, it’s not…” She blinks sleep out of her eyes and she leans up on her elbow, cheek resting on her hand. “It’s not stupid, babe, I’m glad you were…” Maggie smiles and she touches Alex’s chin gently, tenderly, lovingly. “I’m glad you were taking care of yourself. You have nothing to be embarrassed about, Danvers, it uh… it… it’s pretty hot, actually.”

Alex turns her face so she can see Maggie fully, now, fire stoking again in the pit of her stomach at Maggie’s admission.

“It is?”

Maggie lets out a single laugh. 

“Uh, yeah. Big time, Danvers. Did you um… did you want to… continue? I didn’t mean to disturb you, I…”

Alex bites her lip. “You’re not disturbing me.”

Something that looks a lot like a supernova flashes in Maggie’s eyes. “Do you want… help? I can talk you through it. If you want.”

“Talk me through it?”

“If you’re comfortable. I mean, we don’t have to – “

“No, I just… you mean you want me to keep going. And you…”

“Talk you through it.”

“Talk me through it. While I touch myself.”

Maggie’s breath hitches. “That’s the basic idea, Danvers.”

“That would be… fun for you?”

Maggie’s eyes rake up and down Alex’s body and she takes a long, slow breath. “Yeah. Yeah, it definitely would.”

Alex’s voice is small when she answers, but god, is she sure.

“Okay then.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Please?”

“So what um… what were you thinking about? Or what do you want me to tell you about?”

Alex purses her lips and Maggie kisses her temple. “It’s okay, babe, we don’t have to – “

“I want you to tell me a fantasy you have. About us. I mean, if you have any, you don’t have to, it’s okay if you don’t, I – “

“Danvers, you want me to talk to you while you touch yourself for me or not?”

Alex hisses and Maggie grins.

“So um… that’s a yes?”

“Please Maggie?”

“Okay. You tell me if what I say isn’t hot for you, I can change it, okay? So um… sometimes I think about… uh… Fuck, um.”

Alex bites her lip for her, her eyes wide, her hips starting to move on her own fingers again, and it’s all the inspiration Maggie needs.

“Sometimes I think about having you strip for me, like you did the week after our first Valentine’s Day.”

“You liked that?” Alex asks breathlessly.

“God yeah. So I think about having you strip for me, in that little slip you have, dancing on me and… mmmm… Al, do you mind if I um… Can I – “

She gestures with her hand toward her own hips, and Alex squeaks. “Yes,” she pleads as Maggie grins and brings her hand down to her own boxers. She sighs with relief and lets her head drop back into the pillow before turning her face back to Alex.

To watch Alex.

“And I think about how I wanna bend you over the couch – color?”

“Green, fuck, Mags.”

“Excellent. So uh… I wanna bend you over the couch… our couch… and I don’t want you to strip completely. I wanna fuck you while you’re still wearing that little slip, while that black thong you have is still on.”

Alex whines at the rasp in Maggie’s voice, her hips rising and falling onto her hands quicker now, quicker and harder.

“I wanna slip my fingers inside you from behind – god I love how wet you get for me – do you wanna do that now, babe, do you wanna fuck yourself for me?”

Alex lifts her hips and pushes aside her underwear in answer, moaning out a sigh of relief when she feels how soaked Maggie’s already made her.

“Tell me what to do?” she asks, and Maggie shudders through a sharp groan.

“Slip two fingers at once inside yourself, babe, just like you like me to do to you.”

Alex whines and Alex thrashes, and Maggie slips her fingers into the slit of her own boxers.

“Damn it, Danvers,” she rasps, and Alex grins somewhat cockily through her Maggie-induced haze.

“What should I do next, Maggie?” she begs, and Maggie practically growls.

“Put your palm on your clit, babe, and bring your ass up for me if you want. Cuz you know, this is me fucking you bent over the couch, right?”

Alex’s eyes squeeze shut as she swallows a scream and she does as she’s told. 

“More?” she begs, and her hips are starting to thrash erratically.

“You wanna slip another finger in, show me how tight you are for, babygirl?” Maggie asks, and Alex cums, wrecked and unraveled and unrestrained, before she can even obey.

Maggie puts her hand on Alex’s back while Alex works herself through her orgasm, Maggie’s name on her breathless lips.

“You are so fucking gorgeous, Alex Danvers,” Maggie tells her, and god, does she mean it.

“I’m sorry,” Alex whispers as soon as she has enough breath, and Maggie’s brow furrows in the depths of her confusion.

“What – “

“I came too soon, you weren’t done with your story or with… with yourself. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Alex, no, no, babe, you never have to apologize for feeling pleasure, okay? That’s the point, that’s literally the point: you feeling good, okay? If that takes two minutes or three hours, if you wanna take all that time to cum once or to cum as many times as you can count, that’s okay. Everything you want is okay. And hot. Also hot. You’re very hot. Did I mention you’re hot? God, I sound like you.”

“Mmmm, are we gonna be that couple that starts talking like each other?”

“It’s quite possible, Danvers. You’re pretty alluring.”

Alex beams and sighs as she slips her fingers out of her body, wiping them on her pajama pants before shifting closer to Maggie and bringing her hands, her lips, to Maggie’s face.

“I am, aren’t I?”

Maggie chuckles at her beautiful, perfect nerd and kisses her slow, soft, with parted lips and an open heart, until they both drift back to sleep.

Your child accidentally hurts him (EXO)

Xiumin: -he would just move away after his son stepped on his crotch. He was hurting and didn’t want to swear or anything around him. You would come over after a few moment to check on him- “I’ll be fine. I just need a minute that’s all”

Originally posted by idk-kpop

Suho: -your daughter was an infant so she had no idea how sharp her little finger nails were when they dug into his chest. He would startle her when he let out a yelp and she was the one crying. He would feel bad and would try to cheer her up- “sweetie no need to cry you’re fine. Daddy just needs to get your little mitts”

Originally posted by tinyjunmyeon

Lay: -your first reaction was to check on your son after he ran into his father’s leg. The two of them collided hard and Yixing wouldn’t let it slip that it hurt but he would have liked a little concern from you- “he’s young so he should bounce back, I’m fine to thank you”

Originally posted by killeryixing

Baekhyun: -he scared your daughter when he kicked her walker away from him. She was very active so when she went over to him she ran her walker right into him. Out of reflex his leg kicked out sending the walker backwards. He clutched his leg but made sure she was alright- “sweetie are you alright? I didn’t scare you right?”

Originally posted by baekvanilla

Chen: -your son was laughing after he smacked Jongdae on the head with his little metal car. It hurt but he wouldn’t let his son know that it hurt him. He was happy with the smile he had- “I’m glad you’re having fun. This is the only time you’re going to do this”

Originally posted by junhyyo

Chanyeol: -your daughter was at the age where her head was more of a wrecking ball than anything so when she threw her head back and hit his chin. He simply moved her off of him and you worried as he was silent- “well her head is really hard. It kinda…really hard”

Originally posted by fyeah-chanyeol

D.O: -you lectured him for yelling at your son. He was sitting on the floor when your son was running around so he accidentally tripped over Kyungsoo and knocked the air out of him which made your son start crying when he was yelled at- “ah, what? Why are you yelling at me? He’s the one who hurt me”

Originally posted by visual-jongdae

Kai: -he was shocked when his check was jumped on by his daughter. Her knees dug into his chest. He ended up sitting up and she ended up looking very confused- “you jumped on my chest baby. It didn’t feel nice”

Originally posted by achenlove

Sehun: -he didn’t think he would be actually hit in the gut with the soccer ball but it hit him with enough force to knock the air out of him. Your daughter quickly asked if he was okay or not- “yeah I’ll be fine, just give me a minute”

Originally posted by exomystyle

Kris: -she was walking around on the couch and tripped falling on him. He was surprised more than he was hurt but quickly checked on his daughter instead of worrying about himself- “are you alright princess? Did you hurt yourself?”

Originally posted by wuporn

Luhan: -your son got lectured by you after he threw a toy at him. Luhan was hit in the face with a toy car because he wasn’t paying attention to your son. You made your son ask him if he was alright- “I’m alright buddy. But please don’t do it again”

Originally posted by meiren-menglu

Tao: -your son would run over to him as soon as he got home. He threw most of his force into Zitao and made his head collide with his crotch. He would groan and hunch over as you rushed your son away. You waited before asking if he was alright- “I mean my crotch hurts but what do you expect”

Originally posted by j-miki

Mermaids are known as ningyo in Japanese, but they are very different from the mermaids of Western tradition. Ningyo more closely resemble fish than humans, with a varying level of human-like features, ranging from just an ugly, deformed fish-like face, to an entire human torso with long, bony fingers and sharp claws. They can range in size from the size of a human child to the size of a large seal. Unlike the mermaids of the Atlantic and Mediterranean legends, ningyo from the Pacific and the Sea of Japan are hideous to behold, resembling more of an otherworldly nightmare than a seductive siren.

Mermaids resembling the breeds known throughout the West – with an attractive human torso and a piscine lower body – are not unheard of in the Japanese islands. Particularly since the end of the Edo period and the opening of Japan to the West, more and more Western-style Atlantic mermaids have been seen in Japanese waters. However, the most common Japanese mermaid is more beast than beauty.

Ningyo sightings go back to the earliest written histories of Japan. The first recorded mermaid sightings in Japan are found in the Nihon Shoki, one of the oldest books of classical Japanese history, dating back to 619 CE. The flesh of a ningyo is believed to grant eternal life and youth to those who eat it, and thus it is the subject of many folk tales. However, it carries with it a danger that most people are not willing to risk. Ningyo can place a powerful curse on humans who try to wound or capture them, and some legends tell of entire towns that were swallowed by earthquakes or tidal waves after a foolish fisherman brought home a ningyo in one of his catches. While their grotesque appearance and supernatural powers make them an intriguing subject, they are best avoided at all costs.

Female Wardens arriving at Ostagar
  • The youngest daughter of Bryce and Eleanor Cousland, showing up at Ostagar broken and wounded with a snarling disposition and a propensity toward using threats of violence to address the lack of respect from her fellow recruits, determined to fulfill her last promise to her father, regardless of what the nation thinks of her family now.
  • Adaia and Cyrion Tabris’ daughter, arriving at Ostagar having already killed so many humans, she feels as if their blood will never wash off her hands and in some ways she never wants it to, suspicious and distrusting of every single human she runs across, vowing to show them all what a scrappy fighter from Denerim’s alienage is really capable of.
  • The Princess Aeducan, a princess no more, her identity erased, her title stripped, showing up at Ostagar with her head held fucking high, not caring if she has to look up to meet the glance of all the cloud heads she meets, speaking in a stern voice that commands authority and respect, staring down those who would challenge her with a withering glare.
  • The huntress Mahariel, arriving at Ostagar clinging to life, a fever raging in her blood, but on her own two fucking feet, stoically bearing the pain of Blight sickness with a quiet strength so vast even her human healers can’t help but be impressed.
  • Brosca shows up, eyes sharp and deft fingers twitching, already sizing up every person that crosses her path as a possible opponent, or even a mark, eager to get on with this whole Blight business and ready to knock some Darkspawn skulls together, performing a duty with more honor than the feckless nobles of Orzammar could ever hope to achieve.
  • Surana arrives with her swishing robes and wide eyes, feeling raw and hurt from recent betrayals, but an insatiable curiosity propels her to swallow her fears and explore the wide world around her, secure in the knowledge that lightning and fire can be called at a moment’s notice into her soft, uncalloused hands.

Female wardens, arriving at Ostagar–whether they’ve always known the world was cruel or whether they just discovered the fact, their spines are already made of steel.

Bioware Men - The Kissing Edition (updated) (Long)

(Author’s Note: I know I haven’t gotten ALL the Bioware men, but I’m working on it! (I’m missing Sebastian, but only because I really need to go mom up and take the kids to the library.) The Men of the Inquisition will end up here eventually. Er, once I actually finish the game.

As always, major props to my betas, Galleywinter and Zeroredemption!)


Kaidan is intense; lips, hands, every sense trained on you as if memorizing you through osmosis. His hunger is leashed, contained with the ruthless control that saw him through his first tour on the Normandy. He can’t contain it for long, though - not anymore, not after all this time, and all that formidable focus is entirely tactile, entirely on the task at hand, which is making you pant and writhe and scream until he can finally let himself trust that you’re real.

* * *

Alistair is reverent, worshipful; with him, a kiss is a paean to the Maker, a thing out of time and space. Delicate, as if he’s not sure quite what to do, or if you’ll disappear if he’s too quick, too harsh, or if his hands stray. But the strong, sword-calloused hands that won’t go below your waist are trembling, and his reverent mouth quickly heats to almost clumsy hunger, as if he wants to absorb you into himself where he can safeguard you from everything that’s coming.

* * *

Carth is rusty, as if he hasn’t kissed anyone in years and isn’t too sure he should be doing it now. His kiss is angry and hard, but he’s hungry, too…. so hungry for you. His hands bite into your shoulders, and he’s trembling; you’re honestly not sure if it’s from grief or rage or desire. Maybe he doesn’t know either. His Force presence is a whirl of so many things, but it’s your name on his lips as they follow the line of your jaw, your name he groans when your hips meet and rock together.

* * *

Zevran kisses like he kills; with skill, flair, and a certain amount of showmanship. He smiles against your throat, catlike and smug, whispers charming obscenities and flatteries in that exotic Antivan accent of his, until you’re drunk on him, everything about him. But when you kiss him back, that’s when that practiced smile starts to slide off his face. That’s when his golden eyes heat, when the lean muscles under your hands tense, when you can taste honesty mingled with desire on his tongue.

*  *  *

James is tequila-flavored adrenaline when he finally lets go and just takes your mouth like he takes every other military objective, all power and purpose and driving need. His big body is hot against yours, all muscle and undeniable strength; you knew he wanted you like hell burning even before he pulls you tight into him, lean hips surging into the cradle of yours as if he’s already inside you. His kiss might everything you expected, but you never dreamed how soft his lips were, or how the velvet brush of his shorn hair against your fingers made want pool inside you, hot and liquid and quivering.

* * *

Joker Moreau is stunningly physically restrained when he kisses. But where he’s physically cautious, his mouth is anything, anything but. The things he whispers against your neck, the low, hot whispers of a lover about your skin, your scent, the feel of you, what he’s imagining doing to you, how long he’s watched you, wanting you… His commentary is all spiced with a generous helping of his trademark snark and punctuated by the kisses of a man who is truly gifted. Joker can turn a simple kiss into an act of blazing eroticism - precise, probing, mimicking everything he wants to do to you, with you, in you with just his tongue, until you’re shuddering against him, locking your fingers into the back of his pilot’s chair and moaning into his mouth in helpless surrender.

* * *

Garrus doesn’t kiss, not like a human does, but there’s something stunningly, suggestively erotic in the way his eyes hold yours as he leans down and presses his forehead to yours. He’s humming - a low, subvocal intonation that gets into the marrow of your bones and liquifies it, until his hands, his arms, the look in his unfairly blue eyes are the only things holding you up… until they’re not, and you discover that Garrus is very, very good at calibrating things other than firing algorithms.

*  *  *

Everything about Zaeed is hard lines and gravel - he’s the first to tell you his good looks were lost long ago, and he has the voice of a seasoned soldier, rough from too much battlefield smoke and way too many nights in a cigar-fumed nightclub. So it’s a complete surprise that he touches you with such care, tracing the curve of your skull, tangling your hair in his fingers as if he’s savoring the texture, leaning close to sample the scent at the hollow of your throat. The way he kisses is a surprise, too, all delicacy and finesse, and very, very thorough, until you feel like he’s mapped every nerve ending you have and is taking his sweet time about lighting them all on fire, one after another, with a lazy mastery that’s as arousing as it is irritating.

* * *

Fenris is equal parts desperation and fear. His kisses almost snarl with impatience, as if he’s been waiting years to let loose, let go. To have you. To have something in his life that’s just for him, and from the way his hands are moving over you, mapping you, that’s just what he’s thinking. Where his mouth is clumsy, his hands, all clever fingers and sharp gauntlets, are not, daring to claim every inch of you, daring you to claim him back. When you do, he growls low in his throat, and he snarls something in Arcanum that could be a curse or a prayer or a threat to the Maker not to take you away from him before he can steep himself in you, sate himself on you, bury himself so deeply in you that nothing in Thedas can untangle what the two of you have become.

* * *

Thane is decadence; leashed, lethal, and elegant, and that’s the way he kisses, too, as if a single, simple kiss is the equivalent of a hundred acts of simple carnality. His mouth, so delicately scaled and lush, is your lodestone. Your world spins around his axis as he kisses you with exquisite eroticism, committing you to memory with lips and tongue. You’re hazily aware that he could break you in a dozen ways and you’d never feel it, but you’re even more aware that he could make you erupt in a dozen more, and you’d never forget it. And neither would he.

* * *

Steve Cortez is precision, soft-spoken but devastatingly thorough in his exploration of your mouth, your jawline, your neck as you let your head fall back against the cool metal exterior of the shuttle. You can’t get your breath, you just can’t, but when you do, the air tastes like him. Like chicory coffee and determination, like love. Like home. And you can’t help it, can’t help but respond, hands streaking paths of want up his back, feeling the flex of muscle as he shudders, leans into you. You get a little equilibrium back by the time you’re cupping the back of his head, the lean planes of his cheeks, and you meet his precision with your fire. You kiss him back, letting him know with tongue and teeth and muted moans that you refuse to lose him every bit as much as he refuses to lose you.

* * *

Jacob is honesty; there’s honest admiration in his eyes as he looks at you, honest desire in the strong hands that slide from yours up to your shoulders, pulling you into a lazy, seductive dance around the cabin. Honest desire on his tongue when he finally kisses you, managing to tease, to seduce, to woo you for only a moment before honesty takes him, too, and you’re both trembling, both seeking out skin hidden by clothing, seeking to share vulnerabilities. And then it’s honesty of a different sort when you tumble to the bed, wrapped around each other as if you can each shield the other from everything outside this room.

* * *

Anders is hunger and loneliness and longing all wrapped up in a kiss that tastes faintly of lyrium and a faint, exotic tingle that can only be Fade energy. He crowds you against the wall, lean body hard against yours, trembling hands framing your face, fingers tangling in your hair as if he needs to have all of you, right here, right now, as if you’re going to be ripped away from him at any second. When you wrap your arms around him to soothe, he shudders, and his kiss changes to something dangerously erotic, all hot lips and bold tongue and aching hunger, as if this is it, this is the act entire, and he can bring you both to completion with just this….

* * *

Nathaniel is hard - hard lines, hard, sinewy muscle, hard, calloused hands on your skin, hard lips against the back of your neck, hard flesh against the curve of your backside as he presses against you. His voice is hard, too; aristocratic accent wrapping easily around base words as he whispers what he wants to do with you, wants you to feel when he does them. But for all his hard edges, he’s soft, too, and it shows in the brush of his hair against your throat as he bends to taste your collarbone, in the stroke of his tongue, warm and wet on your shoulder. His archer’s precision shows when he moves to map your spine from bottom to top with a chain of tiny kisses that leave no skin unworshipped, when his hands slide between your legs, pressing where you burn hottest for him. Your head falls back against his shoulder, and when you shudder,  so does he, and you know then what his restraint is costing him.

2017 craft quotes or at least those that are important.

- Welcome back to the number 7 most popular crafting channel on YouTube
- Square eyes
- You bought that from the store Phil, hohohoOHO lying makes you go to hell.
- Jeffrey
- I’ve selected as many knives as friends I have, which is 2
- shARP
- *exhales*
- Careful with fingers
- Don’t sneeze
- Protip
- Activities are better with a pal, sometimes
- I don’t like you
- Get lost
- hmhmhm mines a secret but secrets are very important isn’t it
- nO
- Chopping things fills me with good memories
- We are responsible, so responsible
- Potatoes are in my top 10 favorite fruit
- Sometimes it’s nice to look up and the stars and remember that they’re all already dead
- We need the fruit of the earth to make our sacrifice
- You can feed them to your father
- Pro.pro.protip
- wrONG
- MY FAVORITE COLOUR IS GREEN
- that felt good
- PITORP
- Phil too hard
- SOFT AND NEAT
- Phil u need to be calm
- Space is violent
- I only trust my potato with my true friend
- My favorite colour, a vibrant brown
- Trivial
- Too much folly is bad for a boy
- I’m going to place mine under the trapdoor beneath my bed
- I can’t wait to see what it looks when I hang it up, I’ll be the only person to see it but that’s all that matters because art is inside your mind. Art is what you make of it and that is what this craft channel is all about.
- ProtIP
- DANIEL
- or should I say what he wants us to be
- Ooo that feels cold but refreshingly similar
- I can hear him he’s getting closer daniel
- I can’t see but that’s ok bc I believe
- Pitorp pitorp pitorp pitorp
- ok
- I’m sorry but Phil had to go, and soon I will be leaving with them both too
- Don’t cry.

Good Ones- William Nylander

Originally posted by hockeyontrend

(This kid’s face is the best!)

Ok guys, this one kind of got away from me and I’m actually happy with how this smut turned out! But still… it’s smut! So you all know what to do for these! Up next for everyone is: Jeff Skinner!

Warning: sex, smut, smexy time, cusses

Anon Request: Hey I was wondering if you could do a William nylander smut? Please and thank you!! I love your writing it’s amazing!

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Keep reading

Monday / Saizo x MC

Week 1

Monday (nsfw)

There’s a moment right before he buries himself inside her where he sees too much, feels too much, there’s just so damn much, he can do nothing as the floodgates inside him batter down. It’s when her gasps go sharp, and her fingers are in his hair, fluttering kisses across his scalp, that she bears her soul open for him. 

He doesn’t think she means to, too lost in a symphony of heat and limbs to notice, but it takes his breath away all the same.

She lets out a faint puff of amusement, and he looks at her astride in his lap. There’s an imperceptible rise of her brow, at once questioning and taunting. She’s not quite sure why he’s slowed at this particular moment, with her head tilted back and lips parted, panting, but he sees how she lets him off and goes along with it.

He traces his fingers along her waist and up to her breast in a little apology, outlining the underswell of it with his forefinger. From there, like a practiced musician, his hands play her, caressing her, teasing her, until her hips tremble and she moans, easing herself down onto him. All at once they’re back at that juncture where he sees her soul naked for him, blinding in its longing for his heart.

When he slides home to the heat, to the the exquisite tightness, he hears a harsh exhalation. It leaves his lips the moment she arches against him, and he can do nothing but hold her still and wait as the friction sets off a spark in his whole body. He lifts his eyes. Staring back are the colours of the deepest hurricane clouds. She waits for him, holding on.

Then they move.

He makes it last. He makes it last oh so long. And when they’re breathless, coming down, they don’t so much as shift but wilt into each other, content in letting the cool air stroke their skin.

“Saizo,” she breathes out some time later when he’s packing up the sweetness and light and placing them in the corners of his heart.

“Yes, little lady?“

A pause. “You were different tonight. Is everything all right?”

Her breath tickles, like butterflies against his neck. He invites silence into the dark. It echoes against the walls, a cacophony of uncertainty. He wants to say, 

Go to sleep, little lady,

and I’ll tell you some other time,

and I love you fiercely,

and Don’t ever leave me.

But all he manages in that moment is a sweep of her cheeks and a lingering kiss on her forehead, hoping, praying, it conveys everything he means to say but can’t.

“All right,” she chuckles, hand on his heart. “It’s ok. It’s all right.”

And where there was a fluttering before, there is now the sweetest of aches pulling him down and down and down into her warmth, where he sees too much, feels too much, knows too much— where her assurance to him is in every little kiss she plants on his face.

You silly man.

I understand.

I adore you.

I will never leave you.

He holds her hard against his chest and doesn’t close his eyes— to make it real, and scatter nightmares into the moonlight.


Week 1: Masterpost

  • For @ceka122, and all the Kirigakure ladies, because the SLBP Geek Club isn’t doing its thing without you. Enjoy!