#at some point the insane excuses just rolled off the tongue

[tgcg]

bad mouther, hole master

TG: kissing with tongue is gross as hell

CG: COME THE FUCK OFF IT.

TG: what

CG: I'M SAYING SHUT UP.

TG: oh

CG: IT'S NOT THAT WEIRD. IT'S LIKE THE NATURAL PROGRESSION OF REGULAR KISSING TO EVENTUALLY INCLUDE THAT. IF YOU HAD ANY SEMBLANCE OF ROMANCE GHOSTING THROUGH THE DEVOLVING REMNANTS OF YOUR THINKPAN YOU'D APPRECIATE WHAT IT BRINGS TO THE NUTRITION PLATFORM OF ANY CONSENTING CONCUPISCENT RELATIONSHIP!

TG: youre talking about it like its a goddamn military weapon or some shit

TG: some kinda scientific fuckin method to fondle a dudes mouth with your own mouth thats

TG: thats gross

TG: this isnt supposed to be a debate before fuckin congress on the pros and cons of getting your mack on

TG: its i would say a reasonably personal thing to react about and thats just my reaction man you dont gotta arbitrate it

TG: and like why the hell do they have to linger on it so long in these movies do they really want me to immerse myself in people necking each other that much

TG: roll the sounds around in my earholes like im swilling a fine fuckin wine

TG: well my professional opinion is that shit tastes and sounds mad gross and tbh i havent seen a single movie where it was close to being any kind of necessary

TG: its just a cringy waste of everyones time

CG: YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT, AND I DISAGREE WITH EVERYTHING THAT COMES OUT OF YOUR IGNORANCE GASH, YOU LUMP OF TIGHT-LIPPED CLUELESSNESS.

TG: did you just homestar me

CG: FOR THE SAKE OF ARGUMENT, SINCE YOU'RE APPARENTLY DESPERATE TO START SHIT WITH ME RIGHT NOW: HAVE YOU EVER EVEN DONE IT?

TG: hell no

CG: THANK YOU FOR PROVING MY POINT.

TG: proving your point--

TG: bro have uh

TG: have YOU???

CG: EXCUSE ME? HAVE I WHAT?

TG: come on

TG: i walked into this stupid conversation with a fucking shovel and by god am i digging myself a damn hole big and wide enough for every dave across time to squeeze in so i might as well get cosy in this shit before we all start collectively shoving dirt in our mouths

TG: bet your ass im taking you down with me though

TG: grab your spade and get digging man

CG: GRAB MY WHAT????????

TG: just tell me

CG: ???????!!!!!!!!

TG: karkat

CG: NO!

TG: f-

CG: WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM!!!!! WHAT PART OF "SHUT UP" DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND????

TG: wait no

TG: oh my god dude

TG: you can spin that shit all you want but you can do it the hell away from me

TG: i do not need to be hip to your weirdo foursquare fantasies

TG: patently not my business

CG: STOP RIGHT THERE. JUST SHUT IT. I AM PUTTING US OUT OF OUR MISERY RIGHT NOW. I AM CONDUCTING AN ACT OF MERCY ON THIS INSANE FUCKING CONVERSATION AND YOU ARE GOING TO ZIP YOUR LIPS AND TAKE IT.

CG: HERE IT IS: YOUR SINGLE OPPORTUNITY TO PRETEND YOU NEVER SAID THAT TO ME. I AM GOING TO FORGET YOU MADE A COMPLETE MOCKERY OF ME AND MY CULTURE THIS ONE TIME. AND LET YOU CONTINUE TO DIG YOUR STUPID, SHITTY HOLE.

CG: AND DAVE, I AM BEGGING YOU NOT TO WASTE IT.

CG: TO ANSWER YOUR SHOCKINGLY INAPPROPRIATE QUESTION, NO I HAVE NOT DONE IT.

CG: WHO GIVES A FLYING FUCK.

CG: HAPPY?

TG: ……..

TG: way to defuse the situation solid work

TG: real gold star effort grabbin that lit wick and blowing on it

TG: ok first of all you asked me first so dont act like im the one being a weirdo about this

TG: second of all i didnt mean it like that and you know it

TG: THIRD of all what the hell was the point of engaging the knightly theatrics then if you cant even verify that shit

CG: WELL FUCK, SORRY DAVE! I GUESS I'M JUST A FUCKING ROMANCE ENTHUSIAST! I GUESS I GIVE A MAJOR SHIT ABOUT THE THING YOU'RE OPENLY MOCKING TO MY FACE! IS THAT SO IMPOSSIBLE FOR YOU TO WRAP YOUR THOUGHT SPONGE AROUND?

CG: AND IT WAS COMPLETELY REASONABLE FOR ME TO ASK YOU THAT, YOU CONGEALED FETID NOOKSTAIN! MY STATUS ON THE MATTER HAS LITERALLY NOTHING TO DO WITH THE POINT EITHER OF US IS TRYING TO MAKE.

CG: TRY TO KEEP YOUR NUGBONE FROM CAVING IN ON ITSELF WHEN I DROP THIS BOMBSHELL: I'M ALLOWED TO HAVE OPINIONS ON THINGS I ACTUALLY KNOW ABOUT, EVEN IF I HAVEN'T DONE THEM! I DON'T JUST GO TROUNCING THE FUCK ABOUT LOBBING MY UNFOUNDED OPINIONS AT PEOPLE LIKE I KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT ANYTHING. UNLIKE SOMEONE WHO MAY OR MAY NOT BE INVOLVED IN THIS CONVERSATION WE'RE HAVING RIGHT NOW!

TG: youre

CG: I’M TALKING ABOUT YOU BY THE WAY. THE SOMEONE IS YOU.

TG: oh gimme a break

TG: bro youre going apeshit over something you havent even done

TG: you know what that sounds like to me it sounds like an overcompensating fake fan who doesnt get any

TG: you heard of troll napoleon complex

CG: AT LEAST I ACTUALLY FORMED MY OPINION BASED ON CAREFUL CONSIDERATION --

TG: -- oh yeah i bet huh

CG: -- INSTEAD OF JUST BANKING ON NUBJERK --

TG: -- not a real thing you just said

CG: -- REACTIONS AND WRINKLING MY SNIFF NUB AT ANY SIGNS OF GENUINE PHYSICAL INTIMACY!

TG: stop saying nub

CG: YOU EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED BULGEWAD

TG: not too much worse than being a perpetual fountain of emotional diarrhea

CG: DON'T YOU DARE.

CG: DON'T YOU DARE TRY TO USE THAT AS A "GOTCHA", YOU--… YOU! FUCK!

TG: dude did you actually run out of insults

TG: okay this is getting concerning

TG: youre the international dude of verbal dunks

TG: that can not be happening

CG: AAGHRJRGHJRGRHJAGHRJGRHJAGRHJRGRHJRGRHRJR

TG: you cant run out of em youre like the ultimate peddler of hate

CG: YOU DON'T THINK I'M CRITICALLY AWARE OF THE HOOFBEASTSHIT I'M SPEWING NIGH FUCKING CONSTANTLY?! I AM PAINFULLY COGNIZANT OF HOW MORONIC EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS IS!!!!

TG: feel like ive done some damage here

CG: ESPECIALLY MYSELF!

TG: alright bud time to calm down

CG: YOU CALM DOWN!!!!

TG: okay whatever!

CG: WHATEVER!!!!!!!!

TG: jeez

…

TG: here

…

CG: UGH.

TG: yeah

TG: really glad stuff like this happens in private

CG: YEAH. SAME HERE.

CG: JEGUS, CAN WE GO BACK TO BEFORE WE HAD THIS CONVERSATION? I DON'T ASK YOU MANY FAVORS, SO SURELY YOUR SLURRY OF ILL-DEFINED TIME POWERS CAN ALLOW YOU TO DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT.

CG: JUST LIKE, WIPE THAT WHOLE THING OFF THE SLATE.

CG: LET'S START OVER. SAY, FIVE MINUTES AGO. HOW DOES THAT SOUND?

TG: what conversation?

CG: OKAY, GOTCHA.

[feyascorner]

okay first of all i ADORE ur writing… wanna take a bite out of it..

anyway… uh… can i uhh… order a uhh…. astarion x tav.. and like..tav has a fucking insane pain tolerance and always has.. and like… uhh… one time she gets fucking TOTALED in a fight and like obvi it would hurt… and shes like crying subconsciously.. and when some1 points it out shes like “what???? why am i crying wtf???” and like looks down and is just fucking BLEEDING… n then.. astarion comfort…

only if u want thoo!!!!

a/n. Im like the exact opposite I'm very dramatic about the slightest pain but this is such a cute request so Ty!! ALSO PLS EXCUSE IF THIS IS A LITTLE CLUNKY I HAD TO TYPE THIS OUT W MY FINGERS🫠🫠

Astarion is grateful for your tolerance to pain.

Of course, he doesn't particularly enjoy watching you in pain, but he’s no fool. He knows the sting and the soreness that comes after he drinks from your neck. Well, at least, it should sting. However, it never seemed to bother you, and for that, he's forever grateful for it.

These strange sentiments expand past his thirst for blood, as the relief he feels when you’re battered up after a battle and you smile at him as if nothing’s wrong is incomparable to any other feeling he’s felt.

That relief does not come currently, however.

The battle was nearly hopeless. Overwhelmed in number, mages casting counterspell, fighters constantly aiming at you…he’s lost track of it all. By some miracle you and your companions stand victorious, and when he sees that you offer Karlach a lopsided smile, confirming that you're fine, he reaches to pick up one of his daggers.

“Tav—what in the hells, are you okay?”

It’s then that he spots the way your lip quivers and tears glisten threateningly at your eyes. And when you meet his own, they begin to drip down your cheeks like crystals and roll off your chin. He's seen you in tears before, but out of something more positive—not from pain. Before he can even tell what he's doing, he's rushing toward you.

“Why are you—” he sees the blood seeping from your stomach, and his face would've gone pale if he could.

You finally lift your hands to your face, eyes wide when your fingertips brush against the dampness of your cheeks. “Oh. Why am I?…”

Shadowheart scrambles to scrimmage around her bag. “Here, let me—gods, where did I—did we use all the healing potions?—”

“Oh for hells sake. Because you're bleeding!” Astarion hisses, his hand intertwining with yours as he drags you toward the nearest tree where he sits you down. He freezes when you flinch but you shake your head, wiping at your eyes. Your other companions are still searching the enemy corpses for anything that might relieve you of the pain, but they're taking far too long for his liking.

“I’m okay, it doesn't really hurt that much.”

“You’re crying.”

“I didn't even know I was-” you wince.

His eyes narrow. “Lay down.”

“What? No, I’m really fine!”

“Gods, love, please for once, listen to me. It’s quite straining to watch you clamber around with that ghastly wound on your stomach.”

You frown, but he guides you down anyway, careful to lay down your head against the grass. “Now wait patiently. Maybe if we’re lucky, our dear friends will find a potion before I start developing wrinkles.”

A momentary silence hangs in the air. It’s by no means uncomfortable, but there are words on the tip of his tongue he wishes to say. And when he notices you staring, he sighs.

“If you're hurt, tell us. I don't care how high your pain tolerance is—if you're hurt, call us. Call me. Don't be a fool and bleed out over a few enemies when we’ve been through so much worse.”

The sincerity in his voice is almost embarrassing. But with the way you're watching him so seriously, he can't bring himself to dwell on such irrelevant factors.

Then, you smile again, as if you've forgotten about the pain. “How minor can the pain be for me to call you?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Can I call you when I stub a toe?”

“Absolutely not.”

“I will.”

He stares at you with lidded eyes and you laugh. He feels the weight on his shoulders get a bit lighter.

“You may call for me whenever you wish.”

[yikesharringrove]

steve and billy teaching in the same school!! there's these teachers in my school and they work right across the hall from each other. they're always yelling into each others classrooms.

she teaches english lit 101 and he teaches gov 102

"Harrington!"

Some of the kids snickered quietly when Mr. Harrington jumped at the shout from across the hall.

He stared blankly at the last word he had written on the board, the black Expo mark wiggles from where he had jumped at the yell of his name.

He turned around, sighing exaggeratedly at Mr. Hargrove standing in the doorway.

"Kids, excuse my coworker here." He crossed his arms around his chest. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, you can Mr. H."

Steve rolled his eyes as his husband swaggered into his classroom, leading a line of ninth graders with him.

It's not the first time Billy's interrupted his class with a question about some inane bullshit that launched Steve into an over-excited rant for the rest of class.

Steve's tenth and eleventh graders were already closing their textbooks, knowing their teacher was just about to be insanely distracted for the rest of class.

"The birds n' I are reading The Crucible."

Fuck.

Steve's pretty sure Billy's kids pay him to bring them across the hall for these impromptu lectures.

"Witch hunts. I get it."

"Yeah, you know. Anyway, I'm giving some context to the publishing of the book. The Red Scare in the United States, well, the second Red Scare, as well as the rise of McCarthyism coincided with the publishing of the play."

Goddammit.

Steve's fucking master's thesis was on all about McCarthyism (more specifically, how the second Red Scare was directly linked to the Lavender Scare.) He cited the stupid play in his research.

Billy knows that. They were already engaged by the time Steve began his master's program.

Fuck this guy, for real.

Steve quietly closed his power point presentation on interest groups in America.

"Fine. Mr. Hargrove's class, find a seat. My class, your packet is still due Friday. I'll post the slides after class." He glared at Billy.

Billy grinned right back, his tongue poking out in that frustrating way it has since high school.

"1950s United States. What do you know?"

A few hands went up.

Even Billy raised his stupid hand. Steve ignored him.

-

"Which brings us to the end of the decade. With the early 1960s, we have the reformation in the Catholic Church, known as Vatican ll-"

The bell cut him off mid-sentence, and there was a mad scramble as the students all tried to pack up as quickly as possible, before Steve could keep going.

"My class," he nearly shouted over the scraping of chairs against linoleum. "Your packets are still due Friday! I don't care that Mr. Hargrove interrupted our time."

"And birds! The rubric is posted on the class page! I want outlines handed in on Tuesday."

The classroom door closed behind the final kid.

"You're a dick."

Billy laughed.

"Nah, you just teach that shit so much better than I do."

Steve rolled his eyes. He sat behind his desk, yanking over a stack of twelfth grade research assignments to begin grading. Billy perched on the other side of his desk.

"Y'know, you could just ask me to come in and lecture. You don't have to interrupt my own class."

"Yeah, but it's fun to wind you up and watch you go. And I think the birds like it when they see that you're passionate about something. Why do you think I always start with The Joy Luck Club?"

"Because you have mommy issues."

"No. Because Ying-ying's story makes me sob like a bitch, and the birds get to realize that I'm a real-life human."

Steve scrubbed his face with his hands, collecting himself before facing his dumbass husband again.

"Wait, you said they had an essay due. What's the essay?"

"Oh, comparing the Salem Witch Trials and the goings on of the U.S. government in the mid 1950s. You know."

"So, you created an assignment, knowing that I would infodump all that shit to your kids?"

"Yes."

"I want a divorce."

Billy laughed, leaning over Steve's desk to kiss his forehead.

"No, you don't."

"No, I don't. I love you. But also you suck."

The bell sounded to indicate the end of passing period.

Billy got off the desk, stretching with a groan.

"Would you be mad if I brought my senior class in?"

Steve glared at him in the doorway.

"What's the assignment?"

"They're presenting on the parallels between 1984 and the current political climate."

Goddammit.

"Bring 'em in."

[fatnfemme]

as promised, here’s the story time of how i got fucked by my butch while clocked into work.

last friday i saw this post about clitwarming under a desk, and coincidentally my butch was on their way home from work as i reblogged it.

earlier in the day, i had taken some of my lunch break to fuck myself (with a dick and vibe if you’re curious;) ) hoping that it would help cure some of the insatiable horniness i’ve been having recently, but it did not.

so, i turned my camera off real quick and let my trainer know (im in training for my job still) that i was going to the restroom and id be right back. as my butch (they/he) got home, i changed into a skirt and greeted them so sweetly at the door.

i made sure to hug them tightly against my chest, tugging their head into the crook of my neck so they could smell my sweet perfume. i stood on my tippy toes so they could reach my waist perfectly to wrap their entire arms around me. since they just started testosterone (yay!) the tiniest of things will turn them on, so all i had to do was say so sweetly into his ear, “i missed you so much sweet boy,” and he was already putty in my hand.

he gripped a little harder on the waistband of my skirt, pulling me closer and asking me when my next break was. i had already had all of my breaks for the day, so he wouldn’t get to see me for another hour and a half. he complained about how beautiful i looked and how he just wants to make me feel worshipped and adored.

“but,” i said, “i do have a seat next to my desk, and you can be out of view of my camera,” so there they sat. they sat next to my desk, facing me, as my trainer showed me how to do my job. slowly, their hand went from my knee, to over my skirt on my thigh, to under my skirt on my inner thigh.

every inch they got closer to my clit felt like gallons of blood rushing towards my face, but i had to stay calm, cool, and collected. luckily, my autism came in handy once again. so, i turned my face off, as groans escaped from my throat (of course my microphone was muted).

as i groaned and whined, rolling my hips into their hand, they got down on their knees in front of me, under my desk, pulling my hips towards their face causing me to slouch a bit. their tongue sopped up the wetness from earlier when i had made myself cum, and all of the newer wetness they had created by making me feel this way while working.

since my chair has wheels, every move they made towards me caused my chair to roll backwards, so as soon as i realized they were going to make me cum, i excused myself to “grab the door”.

with my camera off and my headset thrown to the floor, my butch on their knees in front of me did not hesitate to finish stuffing themself fully inside my pussy, pumping in and out, pulling out every squeaky moan stuffed deep in my throat.

he pulled our vibrator from his back pocket, and handed it to me to help me cum faster, but i was already so close, so it didn’t take very long. i had almost fully come off of my chair by the time i was done cumming. if i remember correctly, something along the lines of “oh god daddy please fuck the shit out of me, i’ve waited so long for you to take me whenever you want me” may have come out of my mouth at some point.

i looked over at the time, and it had been 3 minutes from when i had turned my camera off. i couldn’t be gone much longer without causing suspicion.

so they pulled up my panties and slid on my skirt, but something inside me told me i wasn’t done with them yet.

“sit down” i said to them. their kinky mind would go insane thinking back on this, i knew it. so i said “before i turn my camera on, you’re going to sit down here, take a good long look and think about what you did to me just now, and you’re gonna use the vibrator on yourself and let me watch you fuck yourself.”

of course, since they’re such an obedient good boy, they had no hesitation to sit down and show me how big and throbbing their little tdick was, and held the vibrator to it while i nodded along to what i was being taught, but not a single thought was going on in there.

out of my peripheral vision i watched as their face kept scrunching and getting pinker and pinker until they crashed and came in their desk chair.

i patted their thigh, and waited until they had reconnected to the world before giving them a quick kiss and sending them off to the couch to take a nap.

soon our boyfriend (i know you’re reading this, hi babe) would show up and hear all about it from my butch, and i can’t wait to hear about how much just reading this has made them blush, even if they’ve heard all about it before.

this post is about lesbian sex, men, minors, and terfs dni

[ahautism]

It’s probably two in the morning, one of those nights when they decided to just keep driving. Ren’s not sure exactly. Renchanting’s clock broke sometime last week, and it hasn’t been important to fix it: they all have phones. But he’s keeping his eyes on the road, so he’s got no clue what time it is. Not that it matters. They have all the time in the world, don’t have an itinerary, or an ETA, or even a destination. That was the point of the trip, spontaneity. Doing something new. He would still kind of like to know what time it is though. So he turns to Martyn, the only other person still awake.

“Martyn? What time is it, dude?”

Martyn looks over at him, taking a second to process the question, then pulling out his phone to check.

“2:46 AM, whatever timezone we're in, I’ve honestly lost track.” He chuckles a little, and Ren joins in. They go quiet again. Ren yawns a little, shifts in his seat, keeps his eyes fixed to the road. Martyn glances over at him.

“Staying awake over there?”

He nods. “I’m hangin’ in there.”

Martyn hesitates a second, a question on the tip of his tongue.

“Want me to talk to you? Help keep you awake, tell a story or something?”

Ren doesn’t look at Martyn. Keeps his eyes on the road still. Safety, and all. (He pointedly doesn’t think about all the times he’s moved his eyes from the road while driving, to change the song or roll a die, or give a wounded look to defend his honor.) He nods again. “Yeah. That’d be great. If you don’t mind.”

Martyn smiles at him. “I mean, I’m awake anyways. Keeps us both entertained. ‘S not a big deal. Even if it were, I wouldn't mind.” He goes a little pink, clears his throat, and starts talking. Talking about old campaigns, which devolves into stories about Jimmy’s ill fated game nights.

“And, get this. He had a seven! And he started this off saying he’s the best UNO player ever. Honestly, the audacity Tim has, it never ceases to amaze me.” Ren laughs. “So that’s why Grian’s eye twitched when you brought up UNO nights?”

“Yep! He swore he’d never play uno with Timmy again, but he still comes back every time. He always shows up late with some ridiculous excuse to pretend like he doesn’t care, but we all know he loves him.”

He laughs a little, and moves on, but Ren is still thinking about it. About all the ways you can say I love you without saying I love you. He thinks of seeing some silly little souvenir that reminded him of Martyn, and buying it for him. He thinks of Martyn climbing on top of him without hesitation when he admits he can’t sleep without the pressure. He thinks of just… tonight. Of how Martyn would do something for him, even if it were a big deal, even if it weren’t convenient for him too. He thinks about suggesting this absolutely insane plan, if you can even call it that, out of the blue, and his friends trusting him enough to agree. They may have all the time in the world, but they’re choosing to spend it with him. And he knows, in this moment, that they love him, and he loves them. And if he weren’t driving (two hands on the wheel - he’s a professional, after all) he would reach out, and hold Martyn’s hand. Just to let him know. He thinks Martyn would get it.

Ren listens to Martyn’s voice, and resolves to continue all the little ways they tell each other I love you.

[solstheimtxt]

Ahhhh ok ok imma go with my GIRLS, Ellie/Nyoka for the WIP game 👀

HELL YEAH IM SO EXCITED tysm for the ask <3 <3 this started as a wip for a oneshot to get my groove on how they interact/maybe start the canon run au for them, but idk snippet is under the cut! :3c

In retrospect, they probably should talk about this at some point. 

Ellie kisses a line down Nyoka's throat, vodka fueling the blood thrumming in her veins. They've both lost count on how many they consumed, and the flirty lines and dirty looks they were throwing each other, egging each other on in a game of gay chicken. She presses her body up to Nyoka, shoulder to shoulder, hands roaming.

"My room."

"What, you bothered by Frieda? She is dead, y'know."

Ellie shakes her head. "No, I mean, yeah, actually. But uh…" she pauses, and opens Nyoka's door. There's a faint, but rhythmic thumping on the other side, followed by a groan. "My room?"

Nyoka frowns. "You do have a point. Lead the way."

She pulls the hunter into her room, presses her up against the door as it slides shut, lips pressed back to skin, leaving gentle bites along the way. The ascot goes first, leaving the long white ribbon on the floor, grabbing at gloves and belts, holsters dropped onto the floor carelessly.

Nyoka pushes her back and Ellie stumbles, as she's picked up and tossed on the bed, a reminder of Nyoka's strength from carrying around a heavy machine gun all day.

"Rapt got your tongue? You're all red, and I'm pretty sure that ain't from the alcohol." She smirks, peeling Ellie's jacket off and pulling it and her gloves to the floor. She sits astride on Ellie's thighs and grasps her jaw in calloused hands, kisses her open-mouthed.

"Nah, just thinking." 

Nyoka smiles wide. "Then I ain't doin' my job right. Relax, don't gotta think."

Ellie pulls at the clasps of Nyoka's quilted jacket, and tries to pull it off as its owner continues the liplock, smoothing her hands down Nyoka's muscled arms, trying to peel off the second layer and struggling, before Nyoka's hands join hers in unbuttoning the waistcoat and shirt underneath, sliding it onto the floor.

"You ever get tired of wearing so many layers?"

"Keeps me warm in the cold. Not used to living on a temp-controlled ship, unlike a certain pirate." She says with no bite.

"Well excuse me." Ellie snarks.

"Oh, you're excused." Nyoka rolls Ellie onto her side and joins her, pressed chest to chest on the small mattress, grabs a handful of her butt and pulls her as close as she can manage.

"Y'know, if you want me to move, you can just ask."

"I know. More fun this way, I know you like it when I'm hands on anyways."

Ellie scoffs and rolls her eyes, only slightly bothered that Nyoka's so perceptive. It's common that Ellie forgets that the often drunk woman who totters around the ship is an incredibly skilled, insanely strong hunter, partially responsible for keeping Monarch roads clear enough to pass on. How easy it'd be for her to crush Ellie with her hands-yet controlled and elegant enough to bring her to a gentle climax.

Nyoka snaps her fingers and Ellie breaks out of her thoughts. "Earth to Ellie? You feelin' ok?"

"Yeah."

There's a look of concern on Nyoka's face. "Y'know, if you ain't feelin'-" Ellie trails her fingers down the hunter's stomach, to her belt, unbuckling it quickly and stopping her sentence in her tracks. She smirks and sits up, yanking her pants down her muscled legs and tosses them across the room, leaving her in her underwear and undershirt. Ellie sinks down, kisses along her breasts and ribs, pushing the hem up to her collarbones, continuing down to her groin.

AAAAnd theres the end i havent continued bc it takes me a year and a half to get ppl fucking lmaoooooo

[scarrypossmscribs]

BLD Crack Fic ~ Max

Content Warnings! tw gaslighting tw manipulation tw (hinted at) death Max belongs to @hotpinkmoon !

You were tired. So tired. You knew what you signed up for when you got into a relationship with Max. The attention. The stares. The parties.

But you had to admit...even you had your limits when it came to all the excitement. I mean come on. It seemed like the entire town was interested in you and Max's life. And also the fact that some of Max's friends would disappear if they got to close to you-

And how you felt like someone was always watching you-

Although to be fair, you did try to see who it was one time. And was promptly embarrassed when it was just another one of Max's fans curious about who he was dating.

Am I just overthinking?

No but... it still didn't explain how Max always managed to find you somehow.

Including that time you specifically hid in a trash bin because you know he doesn't like dirty things.

And somehow he had a reliable excuse for all those 'coincidences' ...including the trash bin thing.

Though he had a pretty convincing confused expression when his friend lifted the trash bin lid to throw something away- and there you were.

Sitting in the trash bin.

Which totally was not at all embarrassing in any way.

Okay... maybe you were overreacting.

But still!

Overreacting or not, you were tired of all the constant attention. The almost complete lack of personal or other-friends time.

"Max...I can't to this anymore. I need my beauty sleep. A fan of yours broke into my apartment one time!" You exasperated, annoyed with this insanity and losing your mind.

Max cocked his eyebrow at you, confusion spreading on his face before a small huff of laughter escaped his pretty lips.

Wait- stop focusing on how pretty he is!

"That, don't worry cutie- was me." Max said, grinning smugly. Pouting a bit when he noticed how you were glaring daggers at him. But his smile quickly returned as he rolled his eyes with a playful smirk, "We're dating, Y/n. It's normal to miss your lover sometimes. I just dropped in to check on you." The words rolled smoothly off his tongue.

Still, relentless, you looked him firmly in the eyes.

"Well we aren't dating anymore." Max paused a bit at this for a moment. Did his mask finally break? Was he going to have a serious conversation for once? "That's a pretty interesting way to propose. But I mean... I'm not complaining~"

The atmosphere was completely shattered by Max's words. "Y.. You.. that's not what... I'm going to throw you!" You fumed loudly, some of the people in the cafe the ones who weren't 'subtly' staring before looking over at you.

Max's grin grew. And you instantly regretted your choice of words.

"Yeah? Well you better be rough then. Oh- but save that for the bedroom, cutie. I like attention... but that's for my eyes only." Max replied quickly, in a bantering tone. "AUGHHHH" Your frustrated scream filled the space between you and Max and those who were peeping in on your conversation

Yet despite all that, still falling on deaf ears.

Whispers on how you and Max were a silly couple followed you out of the coffee shop.

Max smugly waving goodbye with one hand and pointing to his ring finger with the other.

[junemo10]

Merlin: and by the way, part of me was like “whatever”, you know? You know those days when you’re just like “this might as well happen”. my life is already so goddamn weird.

[jarofstyles]

Can you guys do a cowboy h check in since we got the snl pics!!! Hopefully some smut... please

Yes 😎 - D

-

“Fuck me.”

Y/N felt hot. There was no other way to describe it. Nothing got her going more than seeing her man out at work.

While Harry did tend to work a lot with the business aspect of the ranch now, he always filled in duties and when it meant working the field and herding the cows, that was no exception. Today though, it was lifting and putting the bales of hay up into the loft with a few of the ranch hands and Matt.

Her eyes were glazed as she sat on the fence, petting one of their older mates who wanted some attention. Harry always looked good, of course. But there was something about him taking off his flannel after hauling heavy stacks of hay up to the loft, sweat dripping down his face and body as he wiped it with the dry bit of his shirt that had him going.

A throb in between her thighs, watching as he leaned his head back and let the cool breeze wash over his body as he finally got a moment to rest. Her mouth watered as she watched his sweat damp hair be finger combed out of his face, a smile on his flushed cheeks as he laughed at some sort of joke being told. The bottle of water in her bag was the perfect excuse to get a better look.

Harry was hot and a bit out of it from the heat he raised, only realizing his pretty girl was coming over when the wind caught a bit of her sweet cherry blossom scent and waved it over. He could recognize it anywhere.

“‘Scuse me. Got to go see what my woman needs.” He murmured, getting a pat on the back as he walked towards the girl. She wore a blue checked sundress today, actually buying into the country look- and god if it didn’t get to him. “There y’are, gorgeous. What are you doin’ out here?” He asked as he approached. She had a bit of a look on her face though, almost like she was drunk? That had him a bit confused.

“Was just walking around. Saying hi to Cinnamon.” She nodded over to the mare. “Was gonna bring yoh a water cause....” her eyes dropped down his body, taking in the droplets of sweat and making her tongue wet. “Y’look like you need it.”

Sometimes he could be oblivious, Harry. He wasn’t unaware of the fact he was attractive. It just wasn’t in the forefront of his mind. It drove her absolutely mad. She felt... he had to know what he was doing. When he took off the cap and dropped his head back, drinking the water up quick and messy, greedy, she almost moaned. The water dripped down his slick chin and her poor cunt... her clit was already swelling and needy, her body soft and ready for the taking. He needed to touch her.

The water was finished and it was sure to say, so was she. Harry watched in a bit of confusion as she approached further, wanting to warm her that he was sweaty and probably not a joy to touch. But his mouth seemed to dry right back up as he watched her glazed over eyes and her hand grab his belt buckle, coming to rest her other hand on his slightly sticky chest.

“Do you know how insane you make me?” She whispered coyly. Their bodies shielded by the truck, she pushed for him to lean against it. “When y’walk around and look the way you do? When you.... sit there and look so fucking sexy doing all that hard work?” She asked, looking nearly frustrated now. Her hand left his belt and tugged his hand between her legs.

“Feel.” She pressed it up against the damp fabric. His mouth dropped open, brows shooting up in surprise after her behavior. They’d been adventurous before and all that. But he was completely taken off guard by her risky move. They’d talked about it but... seeing it happen in practice was something else.

He curled his fingers against the fabric feeling as it was soaked through and hot to the touch. “Did you....” he swallowed, dropping his voice. “Did you get this wet just from watching me work?” His question received a whimpered nod, hips moving slowly against his hand. It was quite a victory for him. He hasn’t done a thing and he had his girl worked up to bits.

His own cock began to thicken at the mere idea of it all. Her leaning against the fence and watching him, thinking about how he got just as sweaty during their more intense sex and how she was probably wanting to bite him.

“Mhm. Yes sir.” She whispered a “just... look so good like that. It’s so sexy when you get all sweaty m’your working, all your muscle and your scruff.... and you fucked me so, so good last night.... I wanted more.” She pressed a peck to the middle of his chest before laying her tongue flat. Licking the slightly salty skin, dragging it up to his neck and ending with a bite on the smooth expanse of it.

Harry groaned, his hand closing around her hair and taking it in a makeshift ponytail. He was about to crash his mouth back on to hers when he heard a call.

“We’re showering and heading to the bar. Meet you there?” It was Matt, and Harry could hear pickup’s starting.

“Yeah. See y’there!” He managed to keep his voice steady as he felt y/n’s mouth lick up behind his ear, his hand working between her legs on its own now and her nails digging slightly into his chest as she pressed herself into him.

As soon as he watched the last of the men roll away? He was tired of waiting. Opening the backseat of his truck, he climbed up and lifted her up with him. Manhandling her and making her straddle his lap.

She giggled, hands going for his belt and trying her best to yank it off before the zipper of his jeans was down.

“Need it. Need you to be inside of me, H. You’re so... fucking hot.” She whimpered, not even taking a moment to take off her panties. As soon as he was fished out of his pants, she began to rub the tip through her folds, tugging the fabric to the side.

“Just can’t help it, can you?” Harry laughed lowly as he felt her hot pussy against his cock. Being dragged through it and feeling it slick him up, it was heavenly. But not as much as when she sank down on him with little warning.

“Oh, fuck me” he moaned, leaning his head back against the glass of the window. The door was still open. It was sundown, meaning everyone was either gone or not in this barn, and he was thankful for it- though he truly wouldn’t give a fuck right now. Not when he was balls deep in his woman.

Y/N wrapped her arms around his shoulders as she rolled her hips. So full, so fucking deep and she was feeling what she had been craving. “Yes, yeah. This is what I needed, sir. Needed this thick fucking cock inside of me again. Once a day isn’t enough.” She was on a quite horny streak lately but he couldn’t ever complain about that. Instead, he smirked, sliding his hands under her dress and take control of her ass.

“Mm. I know it is, my dirty girl. I spend all day riding... and now you’re gonna be my pretty baby and ride me?” He cooed. “S’what I thought. Such a sweet cunt, swallows me up and let’s me stretch it out... go on.” He smacked her ass. “Let’s see it bounce.”

Harry when she rode him was something out of a book. She swore it. The attractive arrogance, the way he made her want to work for it and the pure, smug satisfaction he got from it only made her want to prove even more to him. The easy smirk he had on his face, the pleasure he would show he felt, it spurred her on to give him what he needed to fall apart.

She whined, breath hitching as she lifted up to slide back down. Both of them moaned at the feeling, their indecent act being covered by her dress skirt but the danger and thrill was still there. Open car door in the middle of the barn lot. The slick sound of her pussy sliding up and down on his length, their shuddery breaths and moans.

“That’s my good girl, darlin’. Take what you need from me. Ride me. Feels so good to be swallowed up by you.” He exhaled, watching her face as her mouth dropped open in pleasure. Going in and out of her, the little squelch of her slickness costing him and making the job easier. “Have such a greedy pussy.” He kissed her deep, murmuring against her mouth.

“Better believe it’s all mine. Property of H. Hm? My girl’s perfect pussy... and this ass.” He raised one brow and slipped his thumb between the cheeks, making the strangled moan escape her. “Mhm. No one knows my beautiful girl is so utterly filthy. S’why I love her so much.” He pressed the thumb into the rim, making her thighs shake a bit.

“Yeah.... see, that’s it. This is it. You’re riding me in the lot because you got all wet while I worked. Imagine what the people would say? Knowing that you’re a greedy, dirty girl? Wants the most filthy and indecent things.” He watched her as she nodded, leaning her forehead against his.

She was dirty. Y/N was a slut, she would say, but only for Harry. She loved being touched and fucked and used by him. He managed to check every one of her boxes and she was in love with him... so there was no reason not to be her filthiest self with him. It got her off though. Knowing Harry knew these things and got to be the one to experience them. His finger in her ass paired with the need and fullness she felt had her approaching her breaking point.

“Gonna cum. Gonna cum so hard, Sir. Please? Please, please. Can I?” She begged, fingers grabbing his wet hair as she began to fuck herself harder on his cock. The filthy sounds and the heat was getting to the both of them, her thighs sweaty and he could feel it on him. Their skin sticky and her cunt dripping around him, their appeal for both of them was getting to the end.

“Mhm. The first time.” He earned, eyes dark and full of promise. She had awoken the monster bit of him that was ready to go for a few rounds. “Cum for me.” Car sex hadn’t ever been so good. Not with her whimpers and tugging at his hair, this thumb in her ass and her cunt clenching up, sucking him over and over until- she came.

A squeal. She let out the most adorable, sexy squeal as her whole body shook. His jeans wet with her arousal, he held her down on his length as she rocked back and forth frantically to work herself through it, clit getting it’s friction and his thumb pressing in further to make her drop her head.

“Yes! Please please.... oh my god. M’cumming.” Her voice broke as she soaked him, clutching him and her cunt clenching up and keeping him locked in place. Having her sitting on him like this and shivering at the pleasure pulsing through her body only spurred him on more.

This was just the begging.

His hand worked down her back, kissing all over her head as he let her ride it out. It had taken everything in him not to cum the first time, just watching his girl bounce and her tits right in his face- but he had plans for her.

“There she is. My beautiful, good girl. Feels so good... did such an amazing job.” He soothed, letting her catch her breath. As soon as she calmed slightly, he took her mouth and kissed her deeply, tongue messily brushing hers and letting her feel his passion for her.

“Now.... want you over the hood of the pickup.”

[theleftovertaco]

Petty Rivalry- Fred Weasley x Reader

I got an ask maybe 4 months ago asking me to write a fic where reader and fred are rivals and then they fuck but life's a bitch so I'm just getting to it now. Here u go lol. Made some changes so now the reader is a gryffindor chaser tho.

Warnings: smut, sub!fred, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kiddos)

"Weasley, you cunt!"

"Hey!"

"Not you, George. Sorry!" You shouted above the whooshing noises of the brooms around you. Fred zoomed past you.

"Not my fault you were in the way of a bludger!"

"It literally is your fault! Your job as a beater is to keep us safe, dipshit!"

"Oi! You two. Get your shit together before we lose!" Angelina shouted as she flew past.

You set one more glare Fred's way before flying off. Between bickering, dodging, and passing, Ravenclaw was catching up and close to winning as both seekers raced around the pitch in search for the Golden snitch.

As Potter seemed to spot the small golden ball, he flew past the two of you, and within a few minutes, the game was over.

Angelina pulled you aside after your team had celebrated, shoving a finger in your face.

“You and Fred need to get it together. If you kept arguing you could have distracted the other players and cost us our win.”

You rolled your eyes and batted her hand away.

"He's the one whos always being difficult, not me!"

Angelina scoffed, "You're both arseholes to each other. Get over yourselves. Either learn to cooperate or I'll be looking for a replacement chaser and beater." She turned away and walked off, you trailing frantically behind her.

"Ange!"

"Look," she turned back, "I love you both, but quidditch is important to me, and it could help me get an internship with the Montrose Magpies, I need to secure a win, or at least a well run team."

You paused for a second, then nodded.

"Yeah, alright, I'll talk to him later today after our celebration in the common room."

Angelina seemed to relax at that, clapping you on the shoulder than walking off to join the rest of the team.

You sighed, and made your way to Gryffindor common room.

..........................

Gryffindor's common room raged about with laughter, as food and shots of firewhiskey were shared (no one asked where that came from).

You took a deep breath, and walked quickly over to where Fred was standing.

"Hey."

He glanced over at you in distrust. "Hello?"

"How are you?"

"Fine, why?"

"No reason."

"Great."

"What's great?"

"You can leave me alone now is what's great."

You rolled your eyes.

"Look, Weasley, I was trying to be nice. Work things out so we could both stay on the team together."

"We wouldn't have anything to work out if you would get your head out of your arse for five minutes during our matches."

"Me? You're the one who keeps aiming bludgers at my head, you know you're supposed to aim them away, right? Or at least towards the other team, not someone on your own."

"They wouldn't nearly hit you if you weren't in the way!"

You barked out a laugh, "That's bullshit, I am perfectly fine with my job, or I would be if you weren't out to get me all the damn time!"

By this point, you were both attracting some attention, and Angelina dragged you away while Katie did the same with Fred.

"Both of you, knock it off."

You whipped your head around to look at her, "But I tried to make amends like you said, I even-"

"Leave it alone, plus, there's an issue in the main hallway we need you to come look at."

"Why do you need me?"

Angelina just dragged you further along.

"Ange, what kind of damn issue is so important that, aaGH-" You exclaimed as you were shoved into a closet, and a very tall figure.

"Who the fuck- ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME ANGE!" You saw Fred's equally pissed off face in the dim light hanging from the top of the closet.

"You two work your shit out, we aren't letting you out until you do."

Fred yelled out in frustration, banging on the door.

"KATIE, ANGIE, LET US OUT RIGHT FUCKING NOW!"

There was only light giggling in response, and you knew there was no way you were leaving that broom closet any time soon.

You spent the next ten minutes pacing the room, trying to find a way out of the closet.

"Can you stop pacing for five seconds? It's driving me insane."

"I wouldn't have to if you hadn't gotten us locked up in here in the first place!"

"How did I get us here? Last I checked we both hated each other, so they wanted us both in here!"

"I was trying to be nice to you back there! To make amends!"

Fred threw his hands in the air.

"Well look where that got the both of us."

You stood face to face with him, eyes locking.

"Why do you hate me so much?" You asked him.

"Why do you hate me so much?"

You scoffed, "You can't just answer a question with the exact same question."

"Like hell I can. And you never answered!"

"Because I asked you first! I mean I just don't understand why it's so hard for you to just not be a dick." You turned your back and resumed your pacing.

"Y/N, it's not that, it's just-"

"Just what, because I am sick and tired of you acting as if I am the worst thing to ever happen to you, why do you hate me so goddamn much, I mean-"

"I DON'T HATE YOU DAMMIT! I LOVE YOU!"

You paused for a second, and turned back.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I've been attracted to you since second year!"

You took a second to process this information.

"So why are you such an arsehole then? For the past 5 years you have been!”

You rolled you eyes.

“Nope. Absolutely not. Liking me was not an excuse to be a dick. And don’t try some ‘I didn’t know how to express my feelings’ bullshit!”

Fred looked at you shocked.

“But… I told you that I liked you. And now I’m getting the feeling you might like me.”

“Thats… besides the point, and even if I did, that still doesn’t excuse you from being a dick, I only responded to you in the same way you always treated me!”

“Right, and I’m sorry for that, Y/N. Please allow me to make it up to you.”

Fred held you face in his hands, and you fought an instinct to jerk away.

“How the hell do you plan on making up for five years of assholery?”

Suddenly you were shoved back into the wall. Fred dropped to his knees, unbuckling your jeans.

“Please, let me make it up to you.”

He dragged your jeans down.

“Fred, what are you doing!?”

“Say the word, and I’ll stop. Please, let me make it up to you.”

Fred looked up at you with wide eyes, and you paused for a moment before nodding. He resumed, pulling you underwear past your legs, and lifted up one of your legs before diving into you.

“Fred, I- fuck!”

He dragged his tongue along your folds and nosed at your clit.

“Want you. Want your cunt, your lips, your body, please.”

You carded your fingers through his hair, dragging him closer to you.

“Fuck, want you too.”

Fred continued until you pulled him back up by his hair to meet you. You hastily unbuckled his belt and undid his trousers to take out his cock. Spitting in your hand, you ran your hand up and down his dick, causing him to let out a series of curses and moans.

He lifted you up by your thighs, and you placed his cock at your entrance, and Fred let out a whine as he pushed in.

“Fuck, love, you feel good.” He readjusted you in his arms and began fucking up into you, his thrusts making him hit that spot inside you.

“Fuck, Fred!”

The two of you continued for what seemed like forever until Fred hooked an arm under your leg and his hand wrapped around you so he could play with your clit.

“Fred, I’m gonna come.”

“I am too, love.” You felt your orgasm arrive and as you did you clenched down on his cock, causing him to release inside of you.

A few moments passed before he set you down, both of you breathing heavily.

“Your partially forgiven.”

“Partially? I just fucked your brains out, how am I partially forgiven?”

You let out a giggle.

“You take me out on a date, and I’ll consider you forgiven.”

Fred brought you into his arms, and laid a kiss on the top of your head.

“Deal.”

A moment passed, and after you both were dressed and had collected yourselves, you banged on the door to be let out.

“Angie? Kate, we’ve resolved our issues, you can let us out now!”

They opened the door, and as you both left you could hear them snickering.

Angelina shouted out from behind you, “Yeah, we heard you both resolving your issues from the other side of the door.”

Fred threw his head back half in laughter and half in exasperation while you stood there, red faced with your head in your hands.

“Next time, maybe resolve your issues in a bedroom?” Katie practically howled out.

“Shove off, Bell!”

[mypoisonedvine]

the martyrdom of st. valentine (and other romantic stories) || dark!Bucky & dark!(stepbrother?)Steve x reader

summary: you wanted to surprise your boyfriend on valentine's day, but he and your foster brother have a surprise of their own.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: smut (heavy dubcon to the point of pretty much noncon), kinda stepcest (as per summary, steve is the reader's foster brother), bondage, a lil touch of degradation

2/14 to-do list

get waxed

get Steve out of the apartment

pick up chocolate-covered strawberries from bakery on 6th

blindfold and handcuff myself to the bed

be waiting for Bucky naked when he gets here

You sighed as you looked down at the paper, crossing the first and third items off the list. The second was going to be a bit harder, unfortunately; your foster brother had a habit of hanging around and cramping your style as much as he could manage. He felt like a real brother in that way… okay, maybe he felt like a real brother in most ways, a consequence of knowing him for most of your life, but he was definitely not your real brother. You remembered that each time you caught yourself staring too long when he was shirtless, or returning from the gym all veiny and glistening with sweat.

But you also remembered that he was still the closest thing to a real brother you'd ever had, and you scolded yourself internally for ever acting differently.

It didn’t matter now— you had Bucky, and he was the most amazing guy you’d ever met.  No, Steve was definitely not happy that introducing his best friend to his sister led to a relationship forming, but he couldn’t stop either of you in spite of his efforts to keep you apart.

Bucky had once expressed his suspicions that it was at least in part due to jealousy, if subliminal.  But you denied it unilaterally— he’s basically my brother, you told him, though it was more of a reminder to yourself than anything.

Perverted concerns about Steve’s motivations aside, Bucky was a great guy.  A bit of a sweet-talker for sure, and not exactly known for his ability to keep a long-term, serious relationship, but he was adamant that you had changed that and for once you were beginning to believe him.  You’d said from the beginning that you didn’t need this to be the proverbial ‘it’ for either of you but that you didn’t do hook-ups— especially with your brother’s friends, and extra especially with your brother’s closest and longest friend.  It only took a brief speech and two shots to convince you, now six months later and you were still going strong.

Days like this made you so happy you’d given in to his advances.  But they also made you regret giving in to Steve’s idea to be roommates in college.

“Stevie!” you yelped as he walked in, stuffing the to-do list into your backpocket.  “Just the man I wanted to see.”

“I doubt that,” he scoffed.  “It’s Valentine’s Day, I bet you want to see Bucky.  He’s coming over, right?  And you want me to fuck off so my best friend can go to town on my sister?”

You frowned, crossing your arms.  “I wanted to see you because I have a gift for you.”

“... you do?”  His eyebrow raised and you hoped your smirk looked just as smug as it felt.

“So do you want your gift or do you want to be an asshole?”

“Do I have to pick just one?” he joked.

“Just come over here,” you instructed, waving him closer.  He seemed hesitant, but eventually did as you’d asked.  From your other back pocket you pulled out two tickets.

“Rangers, center ice,” you beamed.  “For you and a date.”

“And this isn’t just an excuse to get me out of the house?”

“No, it’s a thank you for being such a great brother.”

“So, if I wanted to take Bucky…” he trailed off, already calling your bluff as you rolled your eyes.

“Okay, that’s just sad.  There’s no reason you can’t find a girl to take— god knows Bucky hasn’t spent a Valentine’s Day alone since the fucking eighth grade.  And you’re just as cute as he is!”

“Well, if you could alert the rest of the female population to that, that would be great,” he scoffed, “but until then I’ll take the tickets,” he decided as he took them from your hand.  “A Rangers game might be the only thing distracting enough to keep me from thinking about what you and Buck are gonna do while I’m gone.”

You were hoping for a little more enthusiasm considering how much the tickets had cost you, but at least he was going to go and give you the apartment to yourself for the evening.  “You’re welcome, by the way.”

After stripping and sprinkling rose petals on the comforter, you'd actually found a YouTube tutorial on how to blindfold and handcuff oneself, and it was a little odd that enough people had this problem to merit its existence but it was still very helpful: turns out the secret is to blindfold yourself first but keep it folded up with one eye able to see until you do the handcuffs, then use your arm to slide the blindfold down into place.

It was tricky, and a little bit extra awkward while naked, but you figured it out and smiled proudly to yourself as you completed your last task on your to-do list.

Now, for likely the most difficult task of all: waiting in darkness and silence for Bucky to arrive.

Apparently it is, in fact, possible to be slightly bored yet titillated.  The thought of what Bucky would do to you when he got here was exciting, but it only made you crave his presence more which enhanced your quiet loneliness.  It wasn't like you could read a book or listen to music to kill the time, so you settled for humming to yourself as you waited.

Don't go changing, to try and please me, something something before, hmmm

I just want someone that I can talk to, I want you just the way you are...

But that grew tiresome quickly and you resorted instead to planning exacty how angry you would be if Bucky was late when you were waiting for him in such a compromising and inconvenient state.  For a moment you imagined he'd really gone to the Rangers game with Steve and became briefly livid over a hypothetical situation.

The crackling roar of Bucky's motorcycle outside was distant but undeniable, making you smile in anticipation.  You worried for a moment that you might have locked the top lock of the front door by instinct, but thankfully Bucky and to make it inside alright since next thing you knew, your bedroom door was opening.

The rattle of the doorknob made your breath catch; you opened your legs slowly in time with the quiet creak of the hinges.  “I’ve been waiting for you…” you purred.

“Hi there, babydoll,” Bucky’s voice answered back huskily.

The heavy steps of his boots made it clear he hadn't taken his shoes off at the door, a habit that had driven you crazy since he was your annoying brother's also-annoying best friend.  Was this the real reason he'd chained you up, so he could freely irritate you?  What next, was he gonna put a cold drink on your nightstand without a coaster?

"You really went all out for me, sweetheart," he noticed, his voice closer than you'd expected; it was fun to not know exactly where he would be, it made you squirm under the gaze you couldn't see but could somehow feel.

How weight joining yours on the bed was a good sign to his location though, along with his hands sliding up your legs.

“Look at this pretty pussy,” he cooed pridefully as he dove in suddenly and licked a thick stripe through your folds.

“Fuck,” you shivered, tugging on your handcuffs unintentionally.

“Feel good, babygirl?” he pressed, chuckling when you nodded.  “You want more?”

“Please,” you whimpered.

He didn’t get back to it right away, the weight on the bed shifting slightly, and it made you fear that he planned to make you beg more before eating you out— but finally his lips returned to you as his tongue explored your sex.

“Oh god,” you moaned, your back arching of its own volition.  It was a little different than he normally did this— less confident and measured, more cautious yet hungry.  Typically he teased you a lot more, knowing exactly the spots that drove you wild and intentionally leaving them understimulated until you begged him to let you come, but now as soon as he found them he was targeting them— perhaps a rare show of mercy from the guy who was normally happy to leave you on edge for hours.

You could feel his moans vibrating into you when he slid his tongue inside and against your channel; it instantly made your back arch as the handcuffs quietly clinked above your head.

He stopped just a little too soon, pulling your hips up until the back of your legs were resting on the front of his.  Being manhandled by him turned you on enough to make you bite your lip.

"Fuck, put your cock in me, wanna feel you," you moaned your plea as you heard the rustling of clothes; your mouth watered when you imagined Bucky stripping, with that insane body of his.

His thick head glided over your entrance and you were preparing to beg some more when he suddenly pushed in, giving you what you wanted so much faster than normal.  Not that you were complaining!

He was also much quieter than normal, which you were actually willing to complain about but didn't.

"Oh god," you groaned at the feeling of him stretching you open, gasping when his cock brushed right over your spot— it made your body jolt each time he pulled back and hit it again.

"Feels good, huh?" Bucky asked and you nodded happily.

"So good," you whimpered.

"I wasn't asking you."

Before you could question it, Bucky’s calloused fingers pulled up your blindfold— but it was Steve’s face above you, Steve’s body on top of yours… and, much to your horror, Steve’s cock inside you.

“What the fuck?!” you yelped, trying to squirm away as you tugged at the cuffs but failing completely.

“Fuck,” Steve winced, “you get really tight when you struggle like that.”

“Don’t act so surprised, babygirl,” Bucky cooed playfully as you turned to stare at his devilish grin.  “You wanted this… you just didn’t want to admit it to yourself.  And Stevie here always wanted this, too, and aren’t you so glad he told me?”

You shuddered as Steve continued thrusting, pushing his cock so deep it made you feel a little nauseous.  "Steve, you've gotta stop," you begged.   "If you love me, you'll stop."

"That's the thing: I love you too much to stop."

He moved faster, paying no mind to your confused whimpers, holding your hips tight as his head fell back slightly which brandished his thick neck and bobbing Adam's apple.

"There's no point in pretending," Bucky reminded you coldly, watching the whole thing with crossed arms and an expression that almost looked… bemused?  "You already showed us how much you love it, so don't waste your time acting so disgusted now."

You regretted more than anything saying that it felt good, literally asking him to fuck you before you really understood what you were asking for: you thought it was Bucky, yes, but that didn't mean it was an act.  It did feel good, and that must've been obvious to everyone since you were so wet already.  You could hear it each time he pushed all the way in, that telltale squelching noise that was somehow disgusting and hot all at once.

Steve wasn't so quiet now that he didn't have to be.  "God, you feel so good," he whispered, grabbing the backs of your knees and pushing your legs up.  It forced his cock even deeper and you choked on your own suppressed moan.

You heard Bucky opening his belt, and turned your head to see him pull out and stroke his cock while he watched Steve fuck you.  It was hard to imagine what he was getting out of this; he never seemed like the sharing type, if anything he sometimes became too possessive.  But clearly there was a lot about him and Steve that you didn't understand.

"Play with her tits," Bucky instructed, voice a bit deeper as he pleasured himself, "makes her come so fast."

Steve dropped your legs to rest on his shoulders so his hands were free to grope your chest, thick fingers twisting and tugging your nipples.  Annoyingly, Bucky knew his way around your body well by now, and so it was difficult to pretend that Steve's touches weren't sending shocks of pleasure right down your spine and to your core.

You had been biting on your lip so hard to stay quiet that you feared you would break the skin, until Bucky leaned down and gave you a little slap on the cheek— not very hard, but enough to make you gasp which in turn released the moan you'd been holding back.

"There it is, honey, don't be quiet for my benefit," Bucky encouraged.  "It's okay to like it, I'm not gonna be jealous."

As if that was your concern; angering your boyfriend by enjoying being fucked by your foster brother.  

"You really overestimate my interest in your— fuck— in your feelings," you panted as you glared up at Bucky where he was grinning down at you with a look that almost indicated pride.

"You're gonna come, aren't you?" he asked, ignoring your resistance entirely.  Whatever chance you had at pretending he was wrong was lost when, just for a moment, your eyes widened at his question.  "Yeah, thought so.  I can tell by that dumb look on your face.  I'm close too, babydoll, betcha wanna taste it…"

His free hand roughly held your jaw open as he stroked himself desperately, his weak groan coinciding with the moment you felt his hot seed spray into your open mouth, his taste familiar despite the entirely surreal circumstances.

It was purely coincidence that you came in that moment, your walls bearing down on Steve while you tried to stay silent so you wouldn't choke on Bucky's spend.

"Fuck, that's it, gonna fill this pretty mouth— god yes, you'd better swallow it all," he sighed as come painted your tongue and the inside of your cheek.  Maybe it was more than normal or maybe it was just that he was tightening his hand around the head of his cock to get every drop in your mouth, but either way it was enough to give you quite a mouthful to swallow, which you did without much question due to force of habit.

"M’close too," Steve warned as Bucky stepped back, "I'm gonna come."

“No, Steve, not inside,” you whimpered, hearing the way your voice had weakened after your orgasm, “you can’t…”

“I can,” he disagreed, “Bucky said so.”

Once again, Bucky's will was more important than your own, and your desperate pulling at the handcuffs was only another reminder of the way you'd guided yourself into his trap.

"Don't," you stammered one more time, but it was hard to focus when he was filling you exactly how you needed, when his thick hands gripping your waist felt just as perfect as you'd secretly imagined so many times… 

Denial is a powerful drug, but so is two orgasms in a row.

"Fuck!" you yelped as you felt a gush of warmth drip from your entrance, even further wetness spurring on Steve's fast and brutal thrusts into you.

"Knew you'd love it," Steve mumbled, growling slightly as he slammed into you.  "Knew you'd take it so well, make a pretty mess all over my cock— fuck I can't wait anymore, gotta fill you up, oh my god... gotta give you my load, honey, you want it?"

"Yes," you sobbed, "Steve, yes, come in me…"

He didn't need much more encouragement than that, groaning loudly as you felt his cock flex and pulse against your walls, his release overwhelmingly hot inside you.

You sighed in time with Steve as he finally stilled, and it was hard to know where to look when Steve and Bucky were both staring down at you.  “What happens now?” you found yourself asking, not so much a literal question about the next task but more about what the three of you were going to do with all the unfortunate truths that had come to light in less than half an hour.

“What happens now is I take my turn,” Bucky informed you sternly, pushing Steve aside.  “Did you really think I wasn’t gonna fuck my girlfriend on Valentine’s Day?”

[likeastarstar]

A Mutual Agreement.

Summary: You want to watch your boyfriend, Hoseok, wank off.

(A/N: this is soooo uh...explicit. sorry? Feedback is always welcome, don't judge me, I love hoba.)

masterlist.

"Do you still jack off?"

Hoseok paused, the cup in his hand frozen mid-air, a blank stare on his face, "Excuse me?"

You laughed, leaning towards your boyfriend, "I mean we've been living together for 3 months, I've never seen you masturbate."

He raised his eyebrows and set his coffee down slowly, sending you an incredulous look. "That's because now I use your pussy instead of my hand."

You grinned at him, expecting as much. You had a very high sex drive, Hoseok matching your energy both in spirit and adventure. There was little you hadn't tried, but watching your boyfriend get off to completion wasn't on the list.

"I want to watch you do it though," You said quietly, dragging your eyes down to his lips, watching his tongue slip out to lick his lips apprehensively.

"I don't see how that would benefit you," He frowned, biting down on his bottom lip, "Why wouldn't we just have sex?"

"Because I want to focus on you completely," You explained, scooting towards him on the couch until you were practically on top of him, "Please baby?"

He inhaled shakily, leaning back into the couch further, "Only if I can watch you too- touching yourself, I mean. I want to watch too," He mumbled.

"Sure," You said easily, "Sounds fair."

He had agreed but the actual opportunity didn't present itself for awhile, the two of you always got too horny for each other to remember your deal before you were already fucking. So when Hoseok marched into the living room one afternoon and announced today was the day- you were more than down.

"I'm about to rub one out," Hoseok declared with a close mouthed smile. holding out his arms like he deserved a medal for that statement. "Now's your chance to watch if you were serious."

You squealed in excitement and jumped up, following him to the bedroom you shared, doing a little dance on your way in.

"You're so weird," He chuckled, watching you perch at the edge of the bed eagerly. He stood in front of you awkwardly, staring down at his dick and then back at you. "I don't know why I feel so shy right now."

You grinned at him, trying not to laugh. This entire situation was a little awkward, you had to admit. You tucked your feet under you and motioned for him to sit next to you on the bed, watching him move entirely too slowly. He was acting like you were a cat about to pounce on him, his eyes wide and apprehensive. You felt your heart warm with fondness, leaning towards Hoseok and kissing right under his ear. He shivered under you, already breathing heavier.

"What made you want to touch yourself?" You asked, keeping your eyes on his face to track any source of discomfort. If he didn't want this, you'd stop immediately. It wasn't worth making your boyfriend uncomfortable.

He kept his eyes staring ahead, avoiding looking at you altogether, "I- uh, well I was going through my camera roll and found a picture of you from Spain."

"The one where you have me bent over the balcony railing without any underwear and my skirt flipped up?" You smirked, kissing his neck again, nipping his skin a little this time.

"That would be the one, yes," He mumbled, laughing at his own awkwardness. "I revisit that moment in my dreams often- Fuck, you were so loud that night, we should've made a sex tape."

"That's a terrible idea," You pointed out, dragging a light touch down his neck and stopping at his carotid, pressing down and tracking his pulse for a moment. It was still fast- he was nervous.

"Relax," You whispered, "Just show me what you'd do if I weren't here."

He nodded, leaning back slightly, and unzipping the fly of his jeans. He slid his hand in, palming himself through his boxers. Hoseok lifted his hips slightly

and you shot a hand out to help push his pants down, stopping halfway down his thighs. "I thought you weren't touching?" He asked, looking at you sideways.

"Right," You smiled sheepishly, "Sorry."

Hoseok grinned and pushed your hand away, pulling his boxer briefs off himself. You couldn't help but smile, staring straight at his semi-hard dick. You were very fond of it, fighting against yourself to look but not touch. His dick was on the longer side, thin like him with a lean to it. There was a delicateness to him that you loved, cherishing every part of him. You felt saliva pool in your mouth as he began to touch himself, mumbling about getting lube.

You scrambled to locate some, not wanting him to move an inch. There was bottle in the second drawer of his bedside table, half empty because you two were obsessed with each other- sue a girl for liking her boyfriend. You tossed it to him and he caught it with ease, squeezing out a good amount on his fingers and wrapping them around his cock.

"That was a lot," You chided, watching the way his finger slid over the veins of his dick.

"You know I like it wet," He bit back instantly.

If you were having a hard time not smiling before it was impossible not to now, watching at his hand move up and down on his cock like it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen, which it was.

"You're so fucking sexy," You mumbled, half to yourself but you were glad you said it when Hoseok let out a heavy sigh nearing a moan, tightening his grasp on himself. His cock reacts, how fully hard and a bead of precum collecting at the tip. You wanted to lean over and lick it off but the satisfaction of watching him swirl his thumb over the head of his cock instead was enough to remind you why you were doing this in the first place.

Hoseok stroked his cock, clenching his jaw to contain whatever noise he was about to make. You pouted, wanting to watch him completely unravel.

"I wanna hear you," You whined, slapping his thigh lightly.

Hoseok laughed, speeding up his upward stroke and adding a slight twist to his wrist at the head, "Yes ma'am."

You watched the way the thick veins on his cock disappeared between his fingers, skin flushed with stimulation. He hadn't touched his balls once- interesting, that was usually a large part of what you spent time on when you went down on him. Hoseok angled his hips up and suddenly stilled his hand, fucking up into his own fist at an impressive speed. You inhaled sharply, leaning towards him a little more.

At this point, Hoseok was letting out quiet little grunts that he often did before he came, the telltale signs of an impending orgasm rapidly approaching.

"Baby, look at me," He ordered, causing you to snap your eyes up to his face.

He looked gone, eyebrows furrowed together and his eyes heavy with lust, mouth hanging open slightly. You smiled at him, appreciating the low moan he let out when your eyes met his. Fuck, you loved him. He leaned back slightly, supporting the weight of his upper body with one hand behind him to allow his hips to lift off the bed even more, snapping into his own grasp roughly.

"Tell me what you're thinking about," You demanded, hypnotized by the almost desperate look on his face.

"You," He breathed out, "I'm thinking about you and that night in Spain- shit, you fucking drive me insane. I'm gonna cum."

You look back towards his dick just before he came, watching white lines shoot across his abs at first and then slowed down, dripping down the side of his fist that he continued to fuck into slowly now, the space between his fingers smaller as if he was milking his own orgasm. You sat on the heel of your foot, trying to relieve tension in your body as Hoseok fell back onto the bed, chest heaving.

"That was good," He sighed, out of breath.

"You're telling me," You agreed, picking up his hand and licking the cum off of it as he watched with peaked interest.

"Babe, I just finished," He pointed out, already knowing what you were about to do. "You're gonna have to give me a second to recover."

"I'm just cleaning up," You said defensively, lowering your lips to his cum covered abs.

It was the polite thing to do.

He laughed softly and buried his other hand in your hair, stroking the top of your head lightly, "Things will be different when the roles are reversed."

You hummed in response, looking up at him with curiosity. His eyes flickered down to yours and he smirked slightly, pulling one arm behind his head and sighing contently.

"I wanna watch you, sure," He explained. "But I also kind of want to tell you what to do."

TO BE CONTINUED...PART TWO

[aquamarinescarlet]

The Psychology of Us

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word count: ~3.5k

Warnings: mentions of smut (nothing explicit)

Summary: It seems like you’ll never get the answers you want, but little did you know…

Author’s note: This is probably my favorite story yet. It got a little steamier than I originally planned, but I think it turned out okay. I hope the explanation makes sense, it’s something I do use in real life so I thought it’d be fun to write about. Anyhow, thank you for everyone who read, and have fun with the last part :D

Taglist: @helloalycia @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xastrydx @trikruismybitch @b0mbdotc0m @ima-gi--na-tion @cristin-rjd @arealearp @1-800-maximoff @zarriaza329

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

“I know, I know, I’ll be at your place at seven.” You said to Angie as soon as she reached you.

The hallway was packed, yet you were still able to notice her presence.

“About that,” she sounded unsure, “I came to tell you about this small gathering Pietro is doing at his place tonight, and I was wondering if you’d come with me?”

“So I can be a third wheel? No thank you.”

“He will have other friends over too, don’t worry.”

“Then why can’t you go by yourself?”

“Because I don’t know any of them and I don’t want to be there all by myself.” She reasoned.

“Just stick by Pietro and you’ll be fine.”

“Please!” She pleaded, giving you her best puppy eyes.

You weren’t opposed to the idea of going to Pietro’s house, a small gathering would be a nice change of pace from your usual Friday night parties. But your mind was in a different place right now and a party wasn’t exactly on your plans. You couldn’t say no to her though, maybe you could sneak out early, who knows.

“Fine, I’ll go.” You gave in.

She cheered, hugging you eagerly, and walked away before you could change your mind.

It was Friday again and you were still stuck on the girl and her puzzle. You’d seen her seven more times in the past two weeks. Now you had compulsively read eight books in the span of one month. Eight books all due to her, it was more than Diego reads in the same time.

Even your family was starting to question this sudden new hobby. Aalways keeping yourself locked in your room or with your nose deep down into a different book wasn’t normal.

Despite that, you were no closer to solving the mystery that was the girl from the library. She refused to give you her name when you asked her for it. She refused to explain the logic behind her recommendations. She just had fun watching you drown in frustration.

You were close to giving up, to start avoiding her until you forgot completely about the whole situation. But you enjoyed these moments. You were excited at the prospect of seeing her, not that you’d ever admit it out loud.

Of course, all this excitment died down the moment she started to mock you for nothing, with that annoying smirk painting those perfect stupid lips of hers, growing your desire to wipe it off of her.

There was something, though, that caught your attention, something about the books she recommended. You enjoyed them, you savoured every story, every plot, every character. Diego always tried to get you to read some of his favourite books and you gave up after a few pages. But not these ones, you liked them, and you had to figure out what kind of spell she used to make you like them so much.

“I think I’m going insane.” You muttered while staring at the ‘map’ you had created on your bedroom wall.

It contained post-its, notes, the title of all eight books and the answers that earned you each recommendation. A pathetic attempt to find a connection between this whole thing.

“You are getting too worked up on this, I mean, look at your wall,” Diego, who had been hanging out with you this afternoon, gestured towards it, “it looks like something right out of a detective movie.”

“It’s not that bad,” you said exasperatedly, “I just need to figure this out.”

“Okay, two things,” he put up both his index and middle finger, “first: it is that bad, it’s just a bunch of books; and second: why are you so desperate to figure this out?”

“I’m not desperate,” you argued.

“Yes, you are.” You heard him mumble.

“And aren’t you even a little bit curious?”

“Not that curious.”

“I just want to prove her wrong,” you explained.

“Because you care about what she thinks?” He seemed genuinely confused.

“No, I-”

“Look,” he interrupted, “I know you. I’ve known you for a long time. You have never been one to care about what other people think of you. So why her?”

“I-,” you were at a loss for words.

Why did you care? It bothered when she insulted you, even though you knew it wasn’t true, and you’ve never been bothered by such things before. It bothered that she knew nothing about you and still had the nerve to deem herself better than you, even though this was all the more reason to not care about her opinion at all.

Was it really a bother though? Or was that just an excuse? And if it is an excuse, then what were you excusing? Why were you still doing this? You’ve been dragging this out for a month. Why were you so keen on proving her wrong after all this time?

You don’t need to prove to her that you’re smart: you get good grades, you’re the captain of the football team, you even have a scholarship in one of the best colleges in the area. Of course she doesn’t know any of this, but that’s not enough motivation for you to spend a month trying to prove her she’s wrong about you.

For all you know that crazy scheme of hers to recommend books could be fake. She could just recommend books she likes and hide the reasons behind those questions. But then why did you enjoy those stories? And why would she put up a whole facade to recommend some books to a random stranger she met in a library?

“Do you like her?” Diego’s voice brought you out of your own thoughts.

The look you gave him was one of disbelief. You almost wanted to laugh at his words.

“Like her? How can I like someone who pisses me off so much?”

“Then why do you keep going back?”

“Why I- because- I- I’m curious.” You didn’t sound as confident as you wished. It wasn’t a lie. You were curious. But curiosity was not the only reason you kept going back, although you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was.

“I don’t believe you.”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t know how to answer. Thankfully you didn’t have to when, with a quick glance at the clock, you were able to change the subject.

“We’re late.” You simply stated.

“For what?”

“I told Angie I was going to meet her at her place at seven,” you gestured towards the time, “it’s seven thirty.”

“I didn’t agree to this.”

“C’mon, please,” you pleaded, “it’s going to be a small, like, get together or something, and I know Angie will leave me alone at some point to makeout with her boyfriend.”

“Okay fine,” he gave in and you made a little celebratory dance, dragging him out of the house.

Since this was supposed to be casual and between friends, you didn’t waste any time at Angie’s, where you’d usually spend hours getting dressed and ready.

Pietro’s place wasn’t far, which you were slightly thankful for since Angie wouldn’t stop talking about him the whole ride. He’s such a good kisser. He’s so cute. Did you know he plays soccer? He looks so hot in his uniform… You love your friend, but that’s just too much.

As always you weren’t the first one’s, and by the amount of people it was far from a “small gathering between friends”. The apartment wasn’t small, but sure felt like it with the almost fifty people crammed in there.

You were greeted by Pietro himself, who offered you each a beer before pulling Angie in for a kiss, causing you and Diego to roll your eyes. You gladly took the beer, if you had to endure this, might as well have some alcohol to help.

Two beers later and your mind was no longer fixating on the girl-from-the-library problem. Instead you were having a friendly debate with some of Pietro’s friends about which college was the best, the typical rivalry. Having only Angie to back you up was making the whole thing harder.

“Hey Piet,” a tall blonde boy called out, interrupting the conversation, “is Wanda going to join us?”

“Doubtful, you know how she is…”

“Who’s Wanda?” Angie’s voice was laced with jealousy causing the boy to laugh dramatically, which only seemed to make her madder.

“She’s my sister, don’t worry,” he reassured her. It made sense, he had mentioned he lived with his twin sister.

You watched as he pulled Angie away from the group, probably to makeout, as you had predicted, and you looked at Diego, to stop him from commenting anything, only to find his place empty.

You left the group as well to search for him, and was surprised to find him shoving his tongue down some girl’s throat. You could’ve left them alone? Yes, you could. But did you? Of course not.

“Y’know,” you tapped on his shoulder, earning his attention, “when I bring you to a party so I can have someone when Angie left me, I expect you not to leave me as well.” You teased.

“Shut up.” He tried to sound serious, but the smirk gave it away.

“You owe me one.”

Feeling a sudden need to go to the bathroom, you let them be and went in search of one. You opened a door you thought led to a bathroom, but found yourself in a corridor which had other four doors that probably led to bedrooms, at least one must lead to a bathroom.

“Pietro, I already told you, keep that door closed!” You heard someone scream from one of them.

It wasn’t just anyone though. That was a voice that had been haunting you for a whole month now. Okay, haunting was an exaggeration, but still. You quickly closed the door, muffling the music and chatter.

As you rested your back against the wall, a surge of power took over you. The new information taking over all your thoughts. You had the upper hand now on this little game of hers. It was your turn to play.

Her door was easy to identify, being the only one with light seeping through the cracks, and you made no effort to be quiet or discreet when opening it.

She was sitting in her bed, long red hair loose over her shoulders, a book in hands. Her expression was soft despite the interruption, she hadn’t looked up, so she had no idea it was you who was standing there.

“What do you want Piet?” A mischievous smirk grew on your face.

“Wanda,” you uttered as if trying it on your tongue for the first time, earning the girl’s attention.

The shock that took over her features did wonders to your confidence.

“A beautiful name,” you continued, daring to take a few steps inside her room, “I see you favourite color is red,” you referred to the endless amount of details on her walls, shelves, bedsheets, all a different shade of red.

You walked further into the room, exploring everything in sight. She followed your every move with her eyes, too stunned to say anything. Were you crossing a line? Probably. Should you be invading her personal space like that, without a warning? Probably not. But she has been invading your personal space for weeks, so you couldn’t care less.

“Ah, you play the guitar,” you grazed your fingers over the instrument sitting on the corner of the room, “I didn’t think you had any talents other than insulting me for no reason.”

You were enjoying this too much. Your eyes landed on some pictures and notes clinging to a wall.

“Sokovia,” you said after reading one of the notes, “so you are Sokovian, that’s interesting.” Your gaze fell to her desk, a pile of textbooks stacked there. “Psychology,” you laughed, not because it was funny, but because it was going to piss her off even further, “you are more likely to drive your patients crazy than to actually help them.”

“How…,” you turned towards her, “did you…,”

“Get in here? Learn your name?” You offered some suggestions since she didn’t seem capable of finishing that sentence herself. “Pietro.” You simply stated and watched as her face went from stunned to mad.

“How do you know my brother?”

Was that jealousy you were sensing? Or was she just upset that he had told you stuff about her? You decided to play with it a little bit.

“He is a sweet boy isn’t he? So hot and so nice,” you teased and she advanced towards you, making you a little frightened, but not enough to back down, “it’s hard to believe you two share the same genes.”

Your face was mere inches from hers and you suddenly felt like the air was growing thick, making it hard to breathe. A feeling of warmth taking over your chest and stomach. In spite of all the discomfort, you managed to keep your composure.

“I so want to wipe that pretentious smirk off of your face right now,” she growled. Oh, how the tables have turned.

“Why don’t you?” You challenged.

Football had given you fast reflexes (except for that particular event a few weeks ago), you were ready to catch her hand if she tried anything. Instead of her fist or her palm, you were met with her lips attacking yours furiously.

The kiss was needy, hungry, desperate even. Your hands made their way to her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. It was a battle, a fight neither of you were willing to lose. Tongues fighting for dominance, teeth biting lips, jaw, neck, hands pulling on skin in such a way it would definitely leave marks.

Clothes fell to the floor as you backed her to her bed, pushing her onto the mattress, this feeling, a necessity for her, on the pit of your stomach growing ever more.

Safe to say your plans of leaving early were postponed. At some point during the night you had managed to find Diego and let him know you wouldn’t be needing a ride back home. Your disheveled state and red marks, which were already showing up on your neck, didn’t go unnoticed by him, but he didn’t have time to comment on it. You mentally dreaded the moment he would start with the questioning.

Some shifting on the bed caught your attention. Slowly opening your eyes, you were able to catch Wanda staring at you with a soft smile. Your back was facing her, so she didn’t know you were awake, but you could see her clearly from her bedroom mirror.

And what a sight it was.

“You’re staring.” You called out, and watched her face turn three shades redder out of embarrassment from being caught.

You turned around so you’re now facing her, although she wouldn’t meet your gaze.

“What’s on your mind?” She kept quiet. “Okay, wanna know what’s on my mind?” She nodded lightly. “Well, I’m thinking that I would have never, not in a million years, pegged you as being shy.” She tried to stifle a laugh while bringing her hand up to playfully hit you on the arm. “That’s more like it,” you teased.

“I’m not shy,” she defended.

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

“Because… “ she lost it mid sentence.

“... you’re shy and sweet, just like your brother said,” you recalled from the day you spent together in the arcade.

She hit you, yet again, on the arm, slightly harder this time, but not enough to hurt.

“Tell me this then,” you finally reached the topic that has been bugging you for weeks, “what was all this for? The mystery, the games?”

She fell silent, seemingly in deep thought and you got scared you had killed the moment.

“Okay, so maybe I’m a little shy,” she admitted and you celebrated internally while your face remained unfazed, “and that makes me scared of…”

“Talking to people?” You helped out, but she covered her face with her hands in embarrassment.

“Please, don’t laugh at me, I know it’s stupid-”

“It’s not,” you interrupted, uncovering her face, “go on.”

She took a deep breath before continuing.

“I’m scared of talking to people… especially people that I like.” Although it sounded like a confession, you weren’t exactly sure what it was about.

“So you liked me?” You asked in disbelief. “From the beginning?”

Her already red face was growing darker by the second.

“I had seen you before, with Diego, in the library, always complaining, always stating how boring it was,” she shook her hands in the air for the purpose of drama, “and it was annoying, but it was also cute and- and I always wanted to talk to you, but I never found courage to do it.”

To say you were shocked at the new information was an understatement. She liked you all this time? And you just thought she hated your guts for no reason? Wow, that’s precious.

“Okay, so…” you tried to say in the stunned state you found yourself, “how- why- the- why did you do all that then?”

“Because I had like, this sudden flow of confidence, and since you had this cocky personality I thought you would like someone who was the same, so I said what I said, and I did what I did and-”

“I started to hate you.” The way you acted when you first met must’ve hurt her.

“Exactly, and I thought I had screwed up completely, until you showed up again, and my stupid brain associated that to the idea that the way I had acted worked. So I kept it up. A persona, in a sense.”

“What were you planning to do then? Keep that act up forever?” The question made her slightly frustrated.

“I don’t know, I didn’t think that far, I just enjoyed your presence, even though you still seemed to hate my guts.” You laughed and moved closer to her, wrapping your arms around her waist.

“I did,” you whispered close to her ear, “I hated your guts, but I also enjoyed it, the games, the mystery, that’s why I kept coming back.”

“So it worked,” she said excitedly.

“It sort of did.” You stared into her green eyes, for a few seconds. “There’s something else in my mind too that I’ve been meaning to ask.”

“Ask away.”

“So… about the recommendations-”

“Oh my god,” she didn’t let you finish, “you haven’t figured that out yet?!” She exclaimed in disbelief, when she opened her mouth again you knew what was coming.

“Don’t say it.” You warned.

“You really are slow.” She said it anyways, a mischievous grin painting her lips.

“Damn, I hate you,” you said jokingly, unwrapping yourself from her and making a move to leave the bed.

She stopped you short, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and pulling you back, causing you to fall on the bed laughing hysterically.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I won’t say it anymore.”

She let you go and sat up and across from you.

“Good, so are you going to explain it to me or not?” You questioned and she rolled her eyes playfully. “And don’t you dare tell me there is no logic behind it, there has to be one.”

“Yes, there is a logic,” she mocked, “it’s quite simple actually, the ‘color’ is what sets the mood for the book.”

“How so?”

“Uhm, like, we associate colors with stuff, like black is associated with death and evil and white is associated with peace and purity,” you nodded, “it also works for feelings, associating those with colors, so when a person says a color I can pick a book that has elements that are associated with that color, or that causes a feeling that we associate with that color.” She explained.

“That explains the psychology major thing.” She seemed happy you remembered, even though it was mere hours ago.

“Basically,” she agreed, “so, ‘person’ is what defines the relationships that surround the main character, so either romances, friendships, families, strangers, y’know?”

“Yeah okay,” you tried to follow along.

“And ‘place’ is to decide how far from reality the story should be, if the person says a place that’s close to their home, they tend to prefer stuff closer to their comfort zone, so no fantasy or sci-fi, and vice-versa.”

“That’s it?”

“Yep,” she beamed a smile, “simple isn’t it?”

“Does it always work?”

“No, it’s a really subjective thing, the more I know the person the better, but sometimes it just doesn’t work.” She admitted. “It worked on you like a charm though,” she teased.

“That it did,” you couldn't deny. “Okay, so if I got it right, color sets the mood, right?”

“Right.”

“Then what is red associated with?” You looked around her room, filled with several details in red.

“Anger, love, passion-,” she stopped talking when she met your eyes, a mischievous smirk on your lips.

You slowly rose from your position and crawled forward, never losing her gaze. You quirked an eyebrow suggestively as you got closer. You sat on her lap, faces inches from another.

“Well, I can show you some passion.”

[writinginthedarkwood]

Werewolf! Kirishimia Eijiro: A New Meaning to Golden Retriever Boyfriend.

Thank you so dearly for this request, it was so much fun to write. Prompt #16 “Not this again.” For the fictober event. If you have a request, please send me an ask I would love to write it. 

No warnings, fluffy and cute.

"You've got to be kidding me, not this again." You looked down at your phone, a long paragraph typed up from your boyfriend Eijiro in the same format as last month. An excuse, an apology, canceling tonight's plans, and about two more apologies. Tonight he's claiming stomach issues, but you know the truth. You sigh and check your bank account. If he would just tell the truth you could tell him that it wouldn't be a problem for you to pay for the movie tickets tonight! He makes good money, he must really spend over his budget. He's so chivalrous and sweet, it might insult him to try and pay for things sometimes. You don't mind, if only he'd just open up.

You decide that enough is enough, you're going over there and you're going to put an end to the lying! He's going to let you pay for the date if you have to drag him out by his ears. You throw on the outfit you had planned for your date, cleaned up your hair and head down the street into the night air. Eijiro's house is just outside of city lines in the suburbs. He has a nice end lot with a large field behind it. You're so jealous of his view. You hop on the bus and ride with head phones on, listening to a playlist he made you. The bus can be a little scary at night, but nobody is on here except for you. It's kind of peaceful just listening to music and staring at the full moon. It's large and round face is staring down at you like a caring grandmother.

 Another text pops up.

"Are you okay? I'm sorry I disappointed you. I have to get some sleep, I love you baby." You rolled your eyes. It's just past 10pm! You're not letting him sit and sulk in the dark alone all night. You resisted the urge to throw your phone into your bag in frustration. He is such a wonderful boyfriend 99% of the time, but he always seems like he's hiding a part of himself. What is it? A bad childhood? A gambling addiction? Is he secretly apart of the mafia??? The bus halted to a stop and left you outside of his neighborhood, you stomped all the way down the sidewalk to the end of the line of houses and stared at your boyfriends place. The porch light is off, but the lights are on inside. You know where he keeps the hidden spare key and jam it into the lock. You almost kick the door down as you shout for your boyfriend.

 He was sitting on the couch, tying his shoe laces. He's putting on hiking boots this late? "Hey! You're awake!" You slam the door behind you and scold your red headed sweet heart. "Babe what are you doing here? It's almost midnight!" His voice is shaking. He nervously looks at the clock on the wall and stands up. "You have to go baby, I'm really embarrassed! My stomach is-" "Stop lying! Your stomach is fine!" You want to raise your voice and yell, but his giant puppy dog eyes are so cute. You jam a finger into his chest and scrunch up your mouth, doing your best to look irritated. "I knew I would get here and see you're not hunched over a puke bucket!" He put both hands on your shoulders and gently rubbed up and down on your arms. He's such a large man, he's practically a wall he's so solid. Yet he always has the sweetest touches, making sure to be so gentle with you. His callused finger tips brushed against your skin and gave you goosebumps.

 It took every ounce of restraint in you not to fall right into his arms. "I'm sorry honey, but you really can't stay here tonight. I need you to head back home." He said hardly above a whisper. He kissed your forehead and you shoved his chest with all of your might. He didn't budge, but understood you wanted him away from you so he stepped back. "Oh I'm sorry, is your booty call on the way over and I'm interrupting?" You felt like someone had stabbed you right in the heart. It couldn’t be true, he has never showed any signs of being disloyal. You’re just tired and confused.

 Eijiro looked panicked. "Oh god of course not! No, no its not like that I swear!"  He swallowed you in his arms pushing your cheek against his pecks and kissing all over the top of your head. "There is nobody other than you, I could never even think of betraying you, you're my soul mate." He said between kisses. You wrapped your arms around him and snuggled in. His warmth overwhelming. "Well then what is it...?" You whined a bit, it's getting later and you want to just fall asleep in his arms. "Are you going to turn into a wolf at midnight?" You chuckled. His hand stopped running through your hair and he stiffened completely. You look up at him puzzled, he's staring down at you with a look of panic. "That's crazy why would you even say that?" He says all too seriously. You nervously laugh. "What's wrong? I was just joking. It's not like I really believe you're about to start howling at the full moon." Eijiro stared off into space, like his brain was loading and he couldn't think of what to say. "Right...?" You cocked an eyebrow at him. "It might be a little bit like that." He scratched his head. 

You two sat in the quiet for a little bit. Every time he tried to elaborate he ended up getting caught up in his own words. You two sat awkwardly in his living room until its about 5 minutes til midnight. "I- I'm going to go to the bathroom." He quickly dismissed himself, running to his bedroom and shutting the door. You followed quickly after him. Is he insane? Does he really expect you to just sit out here while he hides pretending to shape shift to get out of movie night? He's obviously  having a difficult time, maybe his money troubles make him feel emasculated? You softly tap on his bedroom door and it slips open. The bathroom door is closed shut with the light peaking out under the crack. You walk past his bed and dressers and hear weird scuttling sounds the closer you get. You knock again. "Hey honey, why don't you come out so we can talk about this? It's okay if you didn't want to go out because of money..." You leaned against the door. "It doesn't make you less of a man to let me pay sometimes." He's so wonderful, you don't think there could be any other reason why he can be so flakey.

The sound of shampoo bottles and shaving cream canisters falling to the ground startle you. "Babe are you okay?" You turn the door nob. The door flings open, a large shape tackles you, knocking you to the ground. You let out a large wheeze, the wind escaping your lungs. "What the fu-" Your face was assaulted with a large flat tongue, licking all over you. Slobber flew across the room as a giant red dog panted and whimpered as it gave you kisses. "You're a dog! Oh my god you're a dog!" You pushed your monstrous boyfriend off of you and took a good look at him. He's huge, and even a little scary looking. His fur is bright crimson and his eyes are a daring shade of yellow. But he sat there, panting like a normal dog. You waved in front of his face. "Are you in there babe?" The dog playfully nipped at your finger, trying to pull your hand into his mouth. "Hey! No bites!" You retracted your hand and held it close to your chest. His fangs are giant. 

The wolf man got down low to the ground in the stance you've seen puppies do right before they-

 He takes off, zooming across the floor and into the living room at full speed. Pictures that lined the hallway crash to the ground. You rush to your feet and chase after him. "Wait!! Down boy! Down!!" You shout. He's already on the couch, gripping a throw pillow between his powerful jaws and shaking it. Cotton stuffing flies across the room, coating the floor. "No! Bad Eijiro! Bad doggy!" You try to wrestle the pillow away from him and fail. He topples over you, knocking you back down onto the floor and taking off across the room again, this time to the kitchen. You tenderly rub your arm, you landed on it weird and it's a little sore. Another crashing sound prompts you to get up onto your feet and run after him. The trash can is toppled over on its side, trash strewn across the floor. His snout was pushing around the garbage, looking for something to swallow. "Are you kidding me? What is with you?" You grab the wolf by the scruff of his neck, and pull him to the other side of the room away from the trash. "You sit!" Eijiro whines and sits down, looking up at you with the saddest eyes. "Oh don't look at me like that. This is not what I thought a werewolf would be like." Eijiro's large head pushed against you, rubbing his face all over your stomach as you pet his head. "You just need to burn some of this energy off." 

You can't help but love the silly thing. He is still your boyfriend, even if he is a little different than usual right now. He followed you down the hall,  staying right by your side. He takes up most of the space, his large frame almost tipping you off balance with small bumps into your hip. You dug through a pile in his hall closet until you found an old baseball and plastic toy bat. Wow, he really needs to clean up his closet, you think to yourself. "Okay babe, let's go-" He looked up at you with all of the love in the world, hanging on your every word. You crack into a smile. "Let's go outside and play you big goof.

"The two of you trampled through the tall grass behind Eijiro's house, he seemed to use little to no effort at all. His massive paws stomping down the weeds like it's nothing. You decided you were far enough away from the neighbors and took a strong stance. You haven't hit a ball in ages, but this plastic bat is wide and should make it a little easier on you. The baseball flew high into the air, you focused and swung the bat, smacking the ball across the field. Your wolf ran, faster than any animal you had ever seen after the small object, passing it and having to loop around with a terrifying pin point turn. He grabbed the ball off of the ground so quick you barely saw the motion, and in a flash he was back at your feet. You could do nothing but shake your head and laugh. "Are you kidding me? You're amazing!" Eijiro looked pleased, so you scratched his neck fluff.

 "Alright let's see if I can hit it a little farther." 

Again, and again, and again he chased the ball across the field and back happily dropping the ball at your feet. He only made you wrestle for it once, he could probably keep the ball away from you forever with those intense muscles, but that's not as fun for him. Seeing how pleased you looked when he brought it back was filling the beast with all the pride in the world.

Eventually your arm got tired, and he seemed to have about run out of energy too. He laid down in the field and looked up at the moon. You laid your head on his stomach, the rhythm of his breathing so comforting. You just talked to him, venting about life and how weird things are in the city now. You found yourself thinking about how a simple bus ride was starting to feel too far away from him at this point. "I know you don't really understand me right now, but I really love you. I know we've said it before, but I love you. I think you're my forever person." He was laying on his paws, looking up at the starry sky. "I know you felt like you had to hide this from me, but it doesn't scare me, or weird me out." You talk quietly and close your eyes, snuggling deeper into his fur. "If I have to come throw a ball for you once a month, I'll do it. I've got friends that deal with way worse with their boyfriends." You smirked, thinking you're pretty funny. That'll make Eijiro laugh in the morning, you'll save that for later. 

The rising sun burned your eyelids, scaring you awake. You hadn't meant to stay out here for the rest of the night, but it was so late and he was so comfortable. He's much more familiar to you now, he slept peacefully as you rested on his chest. He looks worn out, but the two of you can't stay out there forever. You gently tap his face. He popped one eye open and looked around. "Oh man!" He gasped and looked down at his hands and feet. "I'm so stupid! You could get sick staying outside all night!" He put a hand on your face and cupped your chin. "Are you alright my love?" He asked with the soft voice only you get to hear. "Yeah I'm fine. How are you feeling?" "I feel fine. I'll be a little more hungry today, but it's no big deal." He looked down at the ground with a sheepish smile. "Thanks for staying with me all night." "Aw come on, it's no big deal. You're... a good boy." You teased while ruffling his hair.

 "Hey!"

My Ko-Fi -> https://ko-fi.com/writinginthedarkwoods Please send spooky requests!

[michimichim]

in fall & bloom | doyeon

disclaimer: top!fem reader x bottom!doyeon, mention of blood.

your shouts of glee resonate through the bustling streets of the city, pedestrians barely catching glimpse of your zooming figures. the autumn breeze is welcoming against your face, the sunlight warm on your skin as you veer the wheels of your bike onto the next street. your eyes occasionally gaze up at the bleeding tangerine sky through the palm branches without crashing into cars, or worse, have you and your passenger tumbling down the descending street.

“wait!” the latter suddenly yelps into your ear. you press the bike to a stop, both feet coming down to graze the gravel, then to finally land firm on the ground.

“you okay?” you ask when the bike’s stabilized, craning your neck to give doyeon a curious gaze just to find her eyeing the small dip laying a few feet away down the street. there's a pretty blush dusting her cheeks, chestnut hair outlining her forehead and even, darker lashes when her eyes glide back to yours in a form of uncertainty. she's wearing green contacts today, further accentuating her piercing gaze along with the dipping sun highlighting streaks of orange and yellow on her features.

“no way we’re going down that path.” she answers, a tone of incredulity in her voice.

“what?” your brows shoot up as you slightly look back at the road – it is a bit steep, but not dangerously so. you turn back to doyeon. “why not?”

doyeon’s eyes squint back at you, fully glaring, face scrunched – most likely wondering how insane you must truly be. but the endearing and dopey smile you offer back is enough to melt her rigid posture.

“they’ll kill you if i die.” is what she ends up saying instead. the light wind sweeps lightly through her hair, conveying the lulling scent of cotton candy and peach perfume.

you laugh, playfully bumping back into her. “wimp.”

“i’m sorry, is my death a joke to you?” she whispers menacingly into your ear, hooking her index through the belt loops of your jeans.

“hilarious, even.” you tease, tilting your head back to pucker your lips. “kiss.”

“no.” she deadpans, encircling your waist. “first, get me down that road in one piece.” you snort at that, “we can just walk our way down, yeonnie. i was kidding.”

“no, i somehow trust you with this.” she gags out, reluctantly. “why do i trust you?” she mutters right after.

“that’s rich, coming from an arsonist.” you muse, sounding utterly contented, a sharp contradiction to doyeon's allegation.

“shut up,” she starts and you just know she’s about to read you. you furtively feign a roll of your eyes, yet, an infatuated smile stays on the edge of your lips. you'll never tell her, but there’s nothing more attractive than when she gets like this. “–told me you would come and pick me up for a walk, not a bike ride. and unless you have short-term mem–” she stops. “stop staring at my lips.”

you laugh, sheepish, then avert your gaze back to the road ahead. “i'm getting my kiss once i drop you off.”

“if i'm still alive.” she says, hooking her chin on your shoulder.

you whine about her being a pessimist bitch and she lightly, though discreetly presses her lips against your jaw. “kidding.” she singsongs, squeezing your mid.

so you kick off once again. aside from the air being squeezed out of you, you make it down safe and sound. you cycle the both of you through lush paths, to open green fields and watch butterflies fly above, occasionally slowing down the pace of the bike to take it all in. with the scintilla feeling of just the two of you on a bike — blissful with the speed, with the fresh wind in your faces – you’re at home.

doyeon leans the side of her head against your back, letting her eyes take in the beautiful scenery that nature brings. it was nice being able to hold onto you like so, not a care in the world whether she’ll wake up to her name trending on social platforms, or worse, being questioned about her affectionate nature. south korea still has its outdated ideologies, teaching her to enjoy the beauty of whatever it is you’ve started, drawing as much as she can from the light and secretive touches.

unlike her, you no longer seem to focus on the picturesque surroundings. doyeon's hands start having a mind of their own, palms flat on your abdomen, they brush with each movement of your legs on the pedals – and she wastes no time noticing. it's a position she very much enjoys. her eager hands begin to venture areas they’ve never had before. she skims her way up and down your stomach, smiling to herself when she senses you tense. they map their way lower, to the button of your jeans, and without warning, slide up under your sweater. your heart nearly burst from your chest.

the noise that escapes from your throat is a mix of a choke and guttural sound. “christ, doyeon!” you breathe, scandalized. “we’ll fucking crash!”

the frigid feel of her fingers on your skin almost swerves you off the damn bike.

she only laughs, kissing the back of your neck in an apologetic gesture. she resists the urge to tease for the remainder of the ride, only cooing and every so often – she can’t help herself. she’d caress the area over your ribcage, feeling your heart jump beneath the dainty sweater. you can always excuse it as the intensive exercise you have so willingly put yourself through.

you park the bicycle in front of doyeon’s building and lean slightly forward so your elbows rest onto the handlebar. except doyeon doesn’t budge, she stays put, only shifting to press herself further against you.

“you need to keep your hands to yourself, ma’am.” you reproach with a shake of your head, glancing around to make sure no one, especially from her company, is sighting you. “we really could’ve died, and it would’ve been your fault.”

needless to say, that’s no news to you; doyeon has always been quite blasé towards prudence and authority matters. she has a flair for rebellion, not so much that she wants to go against the grain, but she sustains an innate drive towards doing so, and that includes the blatant flirting she would put on at random times.

“but i can’t keep my hands to myself,” she titters and you feel the vibration all throughout your body. you look back at her with narrowed eyes, and she leans her head comfortably against your shoulder, freely gazing at you through long lashes, a smoldering smile on her pouty lips. “plus, i believe i owe you a kiss.”

there's a shout down the street as kids chase after each other, loaded backpacks swinging and feet banging against the gravel.

“i believe you do, yes.” you concur, squeezing her arms that are still wrapped around your mid. “too much people, though.”

and that’s how she ends up dragging you up to her dorms, barely leaving you time to shut the door close behind you – her lips are on yours. thankfully, no one’s home, or at least in the living room because there’s no scientific reason you could come up with to explain why you’re lip locking with one of korea’s favorite girls.

by some miracle, she manages to maneuver you down the hall and into her room, all the while remaining busy giggling and kissing on each other. you throw yourself on her bed, and she ensues, settling down beside you. your feet dangle off the bed as you both lay horizontally – it’s a comical sight that she makes sure to point out.

you're getting progressively mindful of the warmth in your lower belly, the tingling feeling somewhere in your stomach when you engage her into another kiss. the kiss is wet and slow, experimentally tasting the apricot balm coating her plump lips as you leave the sweetest of promises on them. you tentatively stroke her thighs and in turn, her hands resume its trail under your sweater, across your abdomen in a series of affectionate caresses.

you make certain to be slow and considerate as always. after all, this is the farthest you’ve gone. there's only been kissing so far, nothing more, not even touching. you figured if doyeon is ready, she’ll initiate it. which is exactly what’s happening when she leans slightly over you to unbutton your jeans.

“hey,” you whisper against luscious lips, now swollen and tender, while tenderly cradling her jaw into your palm. “no pressure, okay?”

doyeon stills under your earnest look and runs a hand through her locks, pearly teeth toying with her bottom lip. “i know. i just – i need this.” there isn't so much as a slight hint of uncertainty when the reply escapes her lips. more of an emphatic assertion.

you gently push her back down to hover her body, slowly peppering her neck with kisses and tiny licks. doyeon pushes the rear of your head forward, urging for more, however, you take as much time as necessary. your kisses become unbearably slow, irritating her while also lighting up every nerve and muscle within her body. each wet path your tongue leaves further drenches her panties.

you rise back to her mouth, gradually driving her insane with the laid-back, sluggish brush of your tongue on her lips all without fully pressing them. you tease, altering the angle of your head each time she'd drive forward to capture your lips. without much warning, doyeon’s teeth are sinking into your lip, biting harder when you take her sensitive nipple between the spaces of your fingers.

a dainty spill of blood streams down your lip, further startling you when she soothes over the texture with her tongue, gaze darkening as she stares directly into your hooded eyes. “stop fucking with me.” she hisses.

“and since when are you so fucking demanding?” you moan, there’s no denying how turned on and heated the little backtalk makes you. she grinds her hips against yours as your lips crash into hers in a searing fiery kiss. your hands cup her face, both of your tongues rolling, playing and sliding against each other. she’s sucking and biting at your bottom lip, tongue thrusting forward. you close your lips around it and suck with an appreciative moan. god, you could eat her right then.

in the midst, your hands roam over her breasts, fingers pulling her nipples through the thin fabric of her shirt. she breaks the kiss to throw her head back and gasps as you pinch and pull harder at them.

“oh fuck.” with that, she’s once again snaking her hands up your shirt, feeling over your warm skin and bunching the fabric up for you to take off. you grab the hem and slide it off you while the rest slowly comes off in the middle of feverish kisses and explorative touches.

you take to straddle her hips, admiring the pale skin of her tight abdomen with a rapacious curiosity. you gently fondle her pert breasts into your hands, pondering whether to tear the bra keeping you from making skin-to-skin contact. compelling, but an attempt at it will cost you your head – so you contempt yourself by sneaking them underneath the band, relishing in the pretty little sounds rippling out through her lips.

“you like that, don’t you?” you purr out quietly, rubbing your thumbs over the aching, hard peak against your hand.

“harder.” she mewls, torso arching and pushing just to feel more of that pain mixing in with pleasure.

you lean down, a dark glint in your eyes as you bite and tug at her bra’s fabric, she grows wetter at the sight and feel of your warm breath ghosting on her nipples. she wraps her legs around your mid to cage you in, her hand tangling into your hair when you bite down onto her nub. she's letting out a soft cry when your tongue pokes at the tip before sucking the nub into your mouth, pulling on the flesh and grazing the surface, just enough to leave reddened markings on the flesh.

“ooh–” she gasps, breath labored, gripping tightly into your hair as you give the same treatment to the other pair, rolling the tender flesh between your fingers. you're positioned much lower so you rise slightly back up her body so your cores are touching and snap your hips down against hers. it turns her world upside down; everything tingles from her head to her toes as you repeat the motion over and over again.

you lean up to peck her lips, setting an accommodating pace for you both that has doyeon rising up to meet each grind.

she watches you with unfiltered lust; hands coasting down your face, to your shoulders and arms for a few moments, then cupping around the back of your neck and back down to squeeze your breast. she truly cannot keep her hands off of you. “i want it from behind.” there’s always been something impressive, fervent, in the classic simplicity and directness that is doyeon. it still catches you off guard, agape and sputtering. you stop.

with the majority of your thoughts gone, head clouded with wanton pleasure, you’re unsure of what you exactly heard; you ask again, throat closing around the words. “from behind?”

doyeon's brow quirk in a form of amusement, seeming lucid enough to poke fun at you, but still far from collected. the column of her neck is flushed red, eyes low and glazed – she’s beyond gorgeous. “i don’t have a strap, but your fingers will do,” she shoots you a coy look. “so, fuck me from behind.”

you blink slowly. “alright.” you say, heart clenching in what could only be a mix of amazement, lust, anticipation and anything that can match up a synonym in the dictionary. "roll over for me.”

and she does just that, not before unclasping her bra. it falls down her shapely shoulders, exposing her tiny breasts that your mouth begs to take back in. she gets on all fours, back arching and head craning back to stare you down, challenge in her gaze. “better do your best.”

goose bumps break all over her body as you seize her by the shape of her waist, almost taking her up on the challenge. unfortunately, there was only so much you can leave on doyeon’s body. as much as you want to taint her body red with unique markings, she has an image to maintain so it’ll simply have to wait.

you pull her panties down the gracious curve of her ass, leaving it to slip softly down her thighs then off her legs. your hands caress the silky, supple skin appreciatively, tracing over the dip of her waist to the back of her thighs. you give each of her ass cheeks a hard slap, heart pounding with each moan of hers – you’d think she’s used to this.

"come onnn," she whines, pressing back against you.

"relax." you hum, stroking your hand up and down the long of her back, relishing in the way it freely glides. you gently nudge her knees apart and kneel down behind her. the slight bit of slickness trickling down her lips prompts you to give her a few long strokes of your index, doyeon moans and arches her back further down as the same finger gives hot pleasure within her.

“you’re so pretty.” you compliment, fully admiring all esoteric aspects of her body like a tulip about to bloom – the ones who shimmer in the afternoon and reaches to glow of sunshine- as you start licking between her folds, taking your sweet time to lap every drop of her slick melting down her center. you mouth along her swollen clit through the poetic pleasure rolling into every part of her body, spiking in every nerve ending.

you bury your face farther amid the girl’s puffy folds, licking with passion in your movement, your hands gripping her thighs as you lap away at her hole, occasionally reaching up to flicker across her clit and fling her whole body in a mass of spasm.

your sleeked fingertips gradually begin prodding her entrance, easily sliding between the folds, remaining slow and cautious as to not hurt her. doyeon's nails dig into the comforter, unfamiliar pain lightly shooting up her core and spine.

“you alright?” you ask; there is a tiny waver in your voice, concern and apologetic.

“i-” she sucks air through her teeth, “yeah. keep going.”

reluctant, but complying, you extract your index to replace with your thumb. you hope this helps to start small and later on, prep her to take more. she pants softly, eyes teary and unfocused as her body attempts to choose whether she wants to rock back into your hand, stay rooted at the feeling of being stretched or flee from the unfamiliar pain that’s snaking down her thighs.

you thumb through her opening with consoling words along soothing circles of your hand on her lower back. it diverts her from the pain and creeping pleasure probing inside of her. you extend the process, her gradual whines climbing in octaves when she’d try jerking away from a certain spot being brushed by your inquisitive finger. you'd have to grab her by the elegant curve of the waist, pull her back and keep her in place.

it's just a matter of time before she’s past dripping, pleading and moaning for more. hips inclined back, accentuating the fluid lines of her back; she's crying in nothing but divine ecstasy as you switch back to your index. you draw it out until just the tip is in, then plunge it back in her wet tightness. needless to say, she doesn’t simply see the stars but the cosmos in all its entirety before her eyes.

reiteration of strangled sounds and gasps spill from her lips when you start steadily pumping in and out. she tries stifling them by shoving her head down in the covers, not because she wants to be discreet but rather her embarrassment in hearing those sounds coming from herself – they're melodic, symphonic even, to your ears.

it's something doyeon finds herself loving – the feeling of being handled and taken care of. the knowledge that she can easily be reduced to a messy state if you so desired (as one would expect, you’d have to work for it). doyeon's thighs shake with more thrusts of your fingers reaching deep – and she takes it all, with great difficulty, but it’s a start. her eyes flutter closed as the thick stretch that your fingers amply provide, turn into blissful pleasure to bring her closer to her release.

"how about another?" you ask over the high pitched whines. "can you do that?"

"i don–" you swipe your thumb over her clit and her breath catches in her throat before going back to ball the sheets into her hand. you encourage her with a squeeze on her thigh. "yes, yes."

you add your middle finger, cursing at how tight she is, her spasmic muscles start clenching around you. that's all it takes.

in less than a second, your digits are coated in juices and sleek is sliding down her legs as you easily coax her into a slow, staggering orgasm. she bucks her hips up with one last startled moan and you look on, smug, gently twisting your fingers through the slight burn of her orgasm until she slumps down on her stomach with a silent scream.

[moldisgoodforyou]

you’re excused

wordcount: 2.6k

warning: hinting at smut

_______

After another late night out, the group of four stumbled into the pizza shop they frequented regularly - Sophie leaned on Rafe, Colin was walking like he hadn’t had a drink all night, and James was leaning on the other side of Rafe, like liquid when he was drunk. Rafe fished his AmEx out of his pocket like usual and slid it across the counter, authoritative. “Hey man, how’s your night? We’ll take a large pepperoni.”

The cashier shrugged, pointing to the sign on the register. “Cash only, dude. Sorry man.”

“Damn, cash-only? Since when?” Colin lamented, turning to leave the pizza shop.

“Oh!” Sophie’s face lit up. “I know what to do.” She went to pull up the hem of her tank top and Rafe grabbed her insanely quick, arms wrapped tight around her chest. “Absolutely fucking not, Sophie.”

“I’m just using my assets!” She protested, squirming in his grip. He kept a tight hold on her, practically frog marching her out of the shop.

James laughed, shaking his head. “Bold move, Soph. I appreciate the effort.”

“Not in a million fucking years.” Rafe grumbled, holding her tight.

“This is blatant misogyny.” She argued, trying to wrestle her way out of his arms.

He didn’t let her move an inch. “By not letting you show your tits?”

“Yes. They’re great tits, the world deserves to see them.”

“Good god.” He sighed, only letting her go when she stopped moving. “No. Only I deserve to see them.”

“No, dude, I think she has a point. That sounds pretty misogynistic to me.” James pointed out, only for Rafe to sock him in the arm.

“Don’t ever talk about her tits again -"

“I wasn’t technically talking about her tits, I was talking about the concept -"

As the two started to wrestle, Sophie slipped back inside the pizza shop. She found three dollars in her pocket and gave it to the cashier, then returned with two large slices of pizza, handing one to Colin. The boys stopped wrestling abruptly when they saw the exchange. “Hey, wait, I want one.” Rafe protested.

“No. You didn’t let me show off my boobs.” She replied primly, taking a large bite of the pizza.

“You didn’t - Sophie. No. You didn’t.” He glanced back and forth between her and the pizza shop, confused.

Sophie grinned, strolling forward to link arms with Colin and kept walking, with no response.

Colin smirked and leaned down, whispering. “Are you gonna tell him you found cash or should I?”

“Nah. He’ll get over it.” She shrugged and tapped her crust against his. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

Rafe jogged to catch up, walking next to the two of them. “Wait, I want some. I’m hungry too.”

She made a show of taking a big bite. “Mmm. I’m sure you are. It’s really good, Rafe.”

He frowned. “Can I have the crust at least? You never eat the crust.”

“I dunno, this crust is really good this time.” She replied. “Are we still going to my place?”

“We’re going to your place?” James chimed in, unsure. He nearly tripped over his feet as he tried to shove himself in on the sidewalk so they walked four across. “I wanna go home instead.”

“No, you two aren’t coming.” Rafe shook his head, then looked to Sophie for confirmation. “Right?”

She finished the majority of the pizza and handed the rest to Rafe, holding back a smile at the grin that lit up his face. “Yeah, it’s just us. Unless you guys want to…?”

“No, we’ll go home.” Colin nodded up at the upcoming intersection. “This is us anyways, we’ll see you ‘round. James, this way, buddy.”

“Bye!” James waved, peeling off with Colin. Once they were out of sight and Rafe finished the pizza, he glanced over at her, unsure.

“You didn’t really flash that guy, did you?”

“Might have.” She shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“Yes, it matters.”

“Okay. No, I didn’t, I found cash in my pocket. I would have though.”

“I know you would have.” He grumbled. “How drunk are you?”

She squinted, holding up her thumb and her pointer finger close together. “Only a lil’ bit. We can still hook up, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

He groaned, rolling his eyes. “You have to stop calling it hooking up. We’ve been dating for nearly a year.”

“Eleven months is not nearly a year.” She retorted, checking her hip against his. “What do you wanna do?”

“We’re still sticking to that November date instead of Halloween? Huh?”

“Yeah. We are. What position?” He could tell she was drunk because she spoke a little too loudly, her tongue slipping over some of her words. “We could do reverse cowgirl, 69 - we haven’t tried that, um -”

“Sophie -”

“Missionary, I guess, but that’s kind of boring -”

“Jesus, Soph, please shut up -”

She raised her eyebrows, stepping in front of him to cut him off. “Excuse me?”

He sighed and reached into his pockets, adjusting his shorts, and was thankful it was dark enough to hide his situation. “You’re excused. Can we go home?”

Her eyes flicked down to below his belt and back up to his eyes, with a smug grin. “What are you gonna do to me?”

“Sophie.”

“I bet you wouldn’t even last if I go down on you. You’re so predictable.” Sophie smirked, knowing she was pushing Rafe to his limit.

He reacted instantly, reaching out and catching her forearm and pinned her against a parked car in the alley, caging her in around her head with his forearms.

She inhaled sharply, caught off guard with wide eyes.

He grinned, leaned in close and whispered in her ear. “What was that?”

“Um. I, uh, I don’t know.” She stuttered, feeling her knees go a little weak as his lips brushed against the shell of her ear.

“Something about me being predictable?” He supplied, giving her a kiss on the cheek then pulled away like nothing had happened. “Hm?”

She took a moment to compose herself, swallowing hard. “You’ve done that before.”

“No I haven’t.” He argued, taking her hand.

“You have.” She nodded, slipping her hand into his. “Halloween, when I finally told you how I felt.”

“You remember that?”

“I remember every damn detail of that night.” She replied with a grin, her eyes bright. “You combed back your hair but had one little strand out of place, it kept falling into your eyes on top of your glasses. When you kissed me I was almost convinced to hook up with you right then and there but I was afraid I’d ruin it and you wouldn’t want to see me again.”

“Sophie.” His tone took on a serious edge and he slowed their pace a little so he could look her in the eye. “No matter what had happened that night, I knew I had to find a way to keep talking to you after that class. Hell, I’d have settled on going back to arguing every day if I meant I’d still get to see you.”

She blushed, grateful they made it to her house and even more grateful her roommates were back at the bar. “You’d still fight with me?”

He nodded, punching in his code to let them in. “I would.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know, about the stupid shit we always fought about.”

“Give me an example.” She stepped close, trapping him in between the kitchen counter and her body.

He held back an amused smile at the way she tried to take charge. “Like how you think you can get away with grinding on me at the bar with no consequences. Or how you leaned across the bar, with this top so loose and low cut that I can practically see your nipples right now, so the bartender would give you free drinks. Twice.”

She noticed his eyes darkened a little and she stood taller as a sly smirk spread across her face. “I wasn’t flirting.”

“Better not be.” He flipped positions with her quicker than she could process what was going on, lifting her up onto the counter and slotting himself in between her legs. “I don’t want anyone else even thinking they have a shot with you.”

She wrapped her legs around his waist instinctually. “I can’t help it if other people flirt.”

“You can not encourage them.” He kissed her hard, his hands immediately going to her waist. “Twirling your hair, doing that thing where you try to look all innocent with me - yes, exactly, that -”

She grinned, biting her lip as she blinked up at him. “I’m not doing anything, Cameron.”

“You absolutely are, Flint.” He growled, slipping his hands under her ass and lifting her off the counter. “You and your fucking bedroom eyes.”

“You do it more, you know.” She informed him with a smirk. “You smolder.”

“I smolder?”

“Yes. Your eyes just kind of...linger on me, then you meet my eyes, and then you lick your lips. Sometimes you’ll rub the back of your neck too, and I’m pretty sure that’s just so you can show off and flex your arms.”

“None of that is intentional.”

“Well it works.” She laughed, yelping as he started walking up the stairs. “I can handle myself -”

“You shouldn’t have to.” He cut her off with a kiss, biting her bottom lip. “Fucking tease.”

“I’m not teasing.” She insisted, breathless as he gripped her ass a little tighter, pressing her against the wall at the top of the stairs. “Fuck, Rafe.”

“Yeah?” He kissed her again, running the tip of his tongue along her lips. “Tell me what you want.”

“You taste like pizza crust.” She mumbled, laughing when he pulled back with a quizzical expression. “Sorry. Sorry. Got distracted.”

Rafe rolled his eyes, carefully setting her down. “Fine, I’ll go brush my teeth -”

“No!” She grabbed his wrist as he moved to walk down the hallway. “C’mere. Need you.”

A slow smirk spread across his cheeks as he stepped back in her space, reaching out to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. “Yeah? You need me, baby?”

She bit her lip, staring up at him with wide eyes as she nodded.

He slowly stepped forward, gently pushing her up against the wall as he slid one of his thighs in between hers, his chest touching hers with every rise and fall of their breath. “Tell me.”

“Tell you…?” She echoed, hands going to his waist.

“Tell me. Tell me what you want.”

Sophie blushed, breaking eye contact. “Rafe, I’m not gonna -”

“Fine, then I won’t touch you.” He replied, raising his hands as he backed away with a smug smile, but he barely got back before she wrapped her hand around the back of his neck, yanking him down to her level so she could kiss him, hard.

“Stop, fuck, you’re teasing.”

“I’m -” He pulled back just enough to lift her up, tapping the back of her thighs to signal for her to wrap her legs around his waist. “Fuck. M’not. Just wanna hear you.”

“Oh, you’ll hear me.” She promised, sucking a spot against his neck. “You’ll hear me, baby. All night.”

He paused, breath catching. “I kinda have a work meeting at 8am tomorrow -”

Sophie laughed, pecking his lips. “You know damn well when I say all night I don’t mean it.”

“Okay. Yeah. Yeah, yeah, got it. Okay, fuck, keep saying sexy shit to me.” He exhaled, nodding quickly as he strode into her room and kicked the door shut behind him. The door slammed especially hard and she winced when he dropped her to the bed.

“C’mon, Cameron, door’s gonna jam now.”

“Don’t care. I’ll figure it out. Take your shirt off.”

“Demanding.”

“You like it when I’m in control.” He pointed out, grinning when she let him tug off her crop top and unbutton her jeans. “Okay, c’mon, hips up.”

She obliged, lifting her hips and helped wiggle the denim down her legs. He pressed kisses down her thighs as he tugged them off, grinning.

“Fuck, you’re hot.”

“I know.”

He just laughed, pulling back to tug his shirt over his head. “I love your confidence.”

“I love you.” She replied, moving a little up the bed.

Rafe beamed ear to ear, fumbling with the button on his corduroy pants. “I’m never gonna get tired of that. Ever. Fuck. Will you?”

“Will I get tired of it?”

“No, my -” He gestured helplessly at his stuck button, yanking on his pants. “It’s these new pants you convinced me to buy, I look like I’m straight out of a fucking Ralph Lauren ad.”

“Oh, so nothing new.”

“Sophie -” he sighed, exasperated, but cut himself off quickly when her fingers teased under the waistband of his boxers. “No, keep going.”

“Magic word?” She tugged him forward, pushing his pants down to pool around his ankles until he kicked them aside.

“Suck me off?”

“Rafe.”

“Oh, sorry. Please suck me off?”

“Rafe Cameron.” She rolled her eyes, flicking his abs, and got up on her knees on the bed then pulled him down to kiss him, hard.

“Sophie Flint.” He grinned, running his fingers through her hair. “God, you’re so fucking pretty.”

“Keep that up, really does wonders for my ego.” She breathed out, moaning when he tugged on her hair a little. “Fuck. I need you.”

“But I wanted to -”

“Rafe.” She pleaded, looking up at him with doe eyes, and that was all he needed to reach into his nightstand and grab a condom.

“Okay, okay, hold on -”

“We don’t have to -”

“Yes, we have to, you nearly broke up with me last time we didn’t -”

“I did not -” Sophie huffed, exasperated. “Are you going to fuck me or not?”

“Fuck you? Baby, I’m gonna -” He grinned, making Sophie roll her eyes before he even opened his mouth again, and sang, horribly off key. “I’ll make love to you…like you want me to…”

“You’re so weird when you’re drunk.” She giggled, grabbing his hand to tug him onto the bed, shaking her head as he stood there, completely naked, singing way louder than he should have been for nearly 3am on a Sunday.

“You love it. Love me.” He insisted, letting his full weight fall on top of her as he pinned her to the bed.

Sophie grinned, grabbing his chin so she could kiss him properly. “I do.”

“Yes, I’ll marry you.” He replied with a grin, kissing her hard and slow, swiping his tongue against her lips.

“Stooooppp.” She whined, blushing. “Get in me already.”

“I love it when you talk dirty to me.” He smirked, gripping her hips. “Tell me more.”

“I don’t know why you’re dragging this out when you could literally be fucking me right -"

“Making love -"

“Okay, Romeo, whatever you say -"

He laughed, clearly not concerned about time, and leaned down to press a kiss to her lips. “Love you.”

“Love you too. Please fuck me.”

“Yes ma’am.”

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