and leads with her lips

friendship bracelets // stiles stilinski

Summary: Stiles & Y/N discover that true love isn’t anything like they expected it to be

Requested: no

Pairing: Stiles & Y/N

Warning: yes, mature language, themes, & smut


When he was 3 years old, he watched in amazement as the big truck pulled up to the curb of the suburban neighborhood he called home. With his nose pressed against the glass he watched two men step out of the truck and start unloading boxes onto the driveway. The simple action fascinated him for reasons he couldn’t explain.

The sun caught the exterior of the bright red minivan that pulled into the driveway, causing him to squint. He couldn’t believe his eyes when a girl hopped out of the backseat.

“Woah.” He mumbled against the glass, his hot breath causing it to fog up. Quickly wiping it away, he watched as she danced around the lawn while the rest of her family started moving boxes. Her pigtails bounced behind her as she ran around.

“Stiles? What are you doing?” His dad asked curiously. Before he could answer, his father noticed the moving truck and family moving in across the street. “Wanna go say hi?” His father offered, placing a hand on the small boy’s shoulder. Nodding furiously, he smiled up at his father. 

Keep reading

Among The Beasts: Cursed

Reader x Kol Mikaelson



warnings: smut, violence, swearing. that’s pretty much it. also, it may contain some physical descriptions that might not fit yours. :)

Imagine: Five years has passed; now it’s time to face yours biggest fears and try to save the people you love.

Word Count: 3217

Y/N, in the past five years, had learnt a few tricks on sneaking out of her house to meet up with Kol Mikaelson, her best friend and, as it was bound to happen, caring boyfriend too. It had to be a hidden relationship, though, for his parents could never know she still remained so close to him.

A couple of months ago, his mother, Esther, decided to forbid their friendship. According to the brown haired boy, she said it was way too dangerous to be close to such a wicked family as the Hales; he could get hurt and the great matriarch could not bear losing another child. Although Henrik’s death was not your fault, it was horrible to be accused like that.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N decided to shake those thoughts out of her head. They brought up a dark side of her: it got her wishing to make the blonde woman pay for all of that; through torture or maybe even put an end to her life. Again, this was the vicious wolf speaking; craving revenge. Urgh.

“Kol?” Y/N/N queried, in a whisper. “Are you in here?”

Keep reading


Pairing: Kang Daniel/reader (third person)

Word count: 3,775

Rating: 18+ for language, vanilla sexual content, cat facts and shitty jokes/outdated memes

Summary: It’s the hottest day of the year but that’s not to say that things can’t get hotter

A/N: This is just self-indulgent, unedited porn because the thirst is too fucking real my dudes

Keep reading


Anon Request: Hello! Okay so I don’t know if anyone wrote an imagine about that but here’s the deal: A Tom Holland x reader where Reader is Tom’s gf and she’s watching him perform live at Lip Sync Battle and they get freaky right after the show while he’s still wearing his costume because Reader finds him extremely sexy so yeah! Thank you much! And if you don’t write smut it’s all good! Have a nice day xx

Warnings: smut, language, NSFW, 18+ please, oral (fem-receiving), dom!tom, sub!reader, basically porn

(Y/N) had heard of a show called Lip Sync Battle before, but she’d never really watched it. Sure she saw John Krasinski’s hilarious interpretation of “Proud Mary” as well as Channing Tatum’s Beyonce impersonation, but those were just isolate incidents of hilarity, right?
She sat between Harrison and Harry, who had come out to see Tom’s performance, and couldn’t help the laughter that came over her as she watched both Tom’s and Zendaya’s interactions with one another throughout their songs, but there was little she or anyone else in the audience could do to prepare themselves for the closing performance of the night.
(Y/N) stifled a giggle as she watched her boyfriend enter the stage in a suspiciously large suit and start swinging around an umbrella to one of their favorite musicals. She thought it was cute, but there was no way “Singing in the Rain” was going to beat Zendaya’s Bruno Mars performance. (Y/N) ignored the competition part of the show and payed attention to Tom’s movements as he swung around the prop light pole only to disappear behind the set. Suddenly, the piano music cut off and shifted to more of a modern day feel. (Y/N) turned toward Harry and Harrison and the three of them exchanged looks of confusion only to hear Rihanna’s voice flood over the speakers and a the crowd erupt into loud screams and cheers. The three quickly turned back in time to see Tom jump back out onto stage in a black leather leotard and pantyhose with frilly wrist gauntlets and a full face of makeup on.
“Oh shit!” “What the hell?” and “Fuck me!” escaped the mouths of the three people Tom brought with him to the show tonight as he grinned lightly against the umbrella he held in front of him before backing up into the crowd of dancers and joining in their routine: popping his hips to the side and pulling the umbrella parallel over his head before squatting and separating his knees as if air humping the prop. He continued to swing his hips in circles and body roll before he threw the umbrella between his legs and popped his ass out repeatedly.

(Y/N) could hardly contain herself as he spread his legs as far as he could, squatted down, and then rotate his pelvis for the crowd. She couldn’t help the tears streaming down her face from laughter as Tom continued over toward Zendaya to grind against her, but the thing that captured (Y/N) most was when he made his way back to the center of the stage during the song’s bridge, building up for the last chorus. As soon as the rain glistened off the leather surrounding Tom’s package, she was soaked. Tom hit his knees and started to throw his head in circles before slapping against the water that had pooled up and rising again to complete the song and then fall on his back.
Slowly, (Y/N) managed to slip away from her seat without Harrison or Harry noticing. She dipped and ducked around backstage until she made her way to Tom’s dressing room. Her heart was pounding in her chest as the television mounted on the wall displayed in real-time what was happening on stage. her heart beat faster and faster the closer the number in the corner of the screen counting down got to zero. (Y/N) paced around the room, trying to find the best place to wait for him, debating on whether to strip naked already or not. Before she could make a decision, the door knob started to turn and she quickly jumped on the side the door opened on and hid behind it as Tom entered. Just as she had hoped, he was still dressed in his soaking wet faux leather leotard. She slipped around the door as he closed it and quickly turned the lock.
“(Y/N)?” Tom called with an excited and shocked expression on his face. “How did you get-” He was cut short of finishing his sentence when she shoved her lips against his violently. He didn’t waste time questioning what was happening. Instead, he dropped the prop umbrella and stretched his muscular bare arms around her body, clutching tightly at her ass and leaving scratched along her back. The wet lipstick on his lips quickly smeared across each of their faces as he slipped his tongue into her mouth and then sucked hers into his, biting down as she tried to pull out.

Tom shoved his hand down the front of her shorts, not hesitating to push his fingers into her longingly quivering lips. “You’re so wet,” he breathed against her ear as his three middle fingers swirled within her. She pulled against the leather trousers that clung to his bulging cock and realized his outfit came in two pieces rather than one. She slipped her dominant hand down the front of his pants and gripped his dick, rigorously pumping her hand along his length. Tom groaned under her touch and started to push the tips of his fingers across her clit, causing her to whimper under his touch.

“Tom,” she moaned. The hand gripping his cock started to shake and her momentum slowed down as her hips twisted against his body, begging for more than just his fingers.

He smirked devilishly as her power over her body subsided, leaving him in complete control. As soon as he knew she was his and that she wasn’t going to put up a struggle for dominance, he shoved her onto the couch and tore her shorts from her body without bothering to unbutton them. Tom pulled her back up from the couch to tease her, sliding his hands along her waist and then up her thighs as he slowly lowered himself into a squat. Soon, his hot breath panted against her stomach and his front teeth pinched her skin as the tugged against her black lace thong. Once he had her thong on the ground, Tom shoved her back onto the couch and took her knees in each of his hands before forcing her legs apart. He pressed his lips along her legs, leaving hickies dotted across the inside of her thighs before his lips finally collided with her opening.

He was slow at first, knowing that once he got her going, there would be no way to savor the moment they were in. The smallest part of his tongue slipped back and forth over her clit and (Y/N) arched her back in an attempt to raise her hips to beg him for more. Immediately, Tom pulled himself back and thrust his face into hers. “Fuck, babe,” he huffed, “I know you remember my rules.” She could smell herself in his breath as he licked his lips, his normally caring eyes calloused into what she called his ‘hard fucking’ eyes. Whenever she had seen this crazed look of necessary lust in Tom’s, she knew he meant business. Normally Tom was very attentive in bed. He liked to please and normally only had rough sex when (Y/N) told him to bend her over the bed and ‘fuck me like you mean it,’ but one night, she teased him so much to the point that he tapped into this other side of him and she realized just how much he was holding back.
(Y/N) tried to peck her lips against Tom’s before he went back to eating her out, but her failed attempt further unleashed his dominance. She knew his rules inside and out, but it didn’t stop her from breaking them. Whenever she did something that could be considered ‘asserting dominance,’ he would counteract her move with something even more irresistible, therefore, her attempt to give him a light kiss lead to him sliding his fingers inside of her and crashing his lips onto hers, sucking and biting her lips and tongue until the sensation between her legs was too much to handle and her moaned into his mouth.
She could still remember the night he became this sex monstrosity of her dreams and the way he delivered his rules to her. Even thinking about them now  got her going even more.

(Y/N) had wanted to introduce a little role playing to their sex life and decided that having him handcuff her and bend her over would be an easy transition but a strange sense of exhilaration came over him as he realized the meaning behind what she was having him do to her. Tom knew that (Y/N)’s greatest fear was her own vulnerability so letting him have complete control over her body like this only showed the true degree of trust she had in him.
Somehow she found herself on her knees with Tom tying his ties into tight box knots around her wrists to the top of the bed frame. Her back was arched and her head hung down as her arms were stretched out above her and Tom made his way behind her. Slowly, his shoved his hard-on inside her and slapped her ass.

“You’re going to be good for me, aren’t you?” he began. “You’re going to stay still, no matter how hard it is. Once you start moaning, you’re going to moan my fucking name louder and louder as you get closer to cumming. You’re not going to distract me by touching me,” each time he listed another rule, he slapped her ass harder and made his thrusts deeper. “If you break my rules, I will make you cum and then we will start over.”

(Y/N) leaned back on the couch as Tom hovered over her. His eyes were fierce and the bore against her bare chest. His head dropped and he immediately started sucking on her tits, nibbling at her nipples just enough to cause a tingling pain but not enough to make the mistake of getting smacked in the head again.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to break my rules?” Tom asked her as he put her legs on his shoulders and gripped her love handles so hard she knew she’d be bruised within the hour. His cock traveled into her in long, quick, violent thrusts and he repeatedly hit her sweet spot she reached forward to grab his perfectly toned chest only to have her hands swatted away and his thrusts to quicken. His thighs slapped against her ass with each thrust and a quick pulse echoed through the room, matching the throbbing in her vagina as she tried to constrict herself around him. “And now that’s three,” he sighed at her before flipping her over and pounding his thick cock into her until she bit into her arm to keep herself from screaming, saving herself even more humiliation of confronting Harry and Harrison who were no doubt wondering what was taking Tom so long to change. Tom stared at her ass as it bounced against him and looked into the mirror he had bent her over in front of to see her breasts smacking into the other.

“F-fucking shit, Tom!” she yelled before releasing everything she had pent up onto him. He looked over her naked body as she slumped against the chair he was fucking her over and smirked at himself. “What?” she asked as they each caught their breath.
“You owe me three more tonight,” he muttered against her hot and sweaty skin.

“Your brothers and Harrison are staying with you tonight,” she protested.

“Then maybe you’ll follow my rules those times,” Tom smirked at her as they slipped back into their clothes. They hurried to dress and leave before causing too much of a hold up for his brother and Harrison only to find the pair impatiently waiting for them in the parking lot.

“What took you so long?” they grumbled as Tom and (Y/N) walked past them. He gave her ass  quick squeezed before slapped it as she walked toward his car and turned back to the other guys with the pride of conquest in his eyes.

Preference "How they act whenever they are excessively horny" (NSFW)

(Heyyyy, i’m back :D YAY FOR OUR FAVES NOT BEING ABLE TO HANDLE IT XD hope it is as requested and you all like it :3 Gifs not mine/Found them on google/credits to the original owner.)

Negan-Whenever he gets excessively horny, he’d only make inappropriate comments about his dick and how he needs some relief and just go on and on, until you’d lock eyes. He’d end up taking the opportunity to march his way towards you and continue on, only to end up whispering and bend you over to make you feel him as he slowly grinds up against you.

Daryl-Whenever he gets excessively horny, he’d just show it through his frustration over everything, until he can’t handle it and suddenly gets quiet. He’d make his way towards you and not care for what you’re doing, only to grab you out of nowhere and throw you over his shoulder and slap your ass, to make you understand of his need.

Rick-Whenever he gets excessively horny, he’d seem as if he was extremely angry, only to end up having you stay away from everyone. He’d tell anyone off and would just keep you to himself. Finally, he’d push you up against the nearest surface and desperately kiss your lips and neck, and lower himself to your body just to start giving you oral, making you realize of his need for you.

Merle-Whenever he gets excessively horny, he’d have a hard time keeping his hand off of you and really make you unable to do anything else but to pay attention to his problem. It would’t matter to him where you were, he’d grip your waist, kiss your neck and end up with his hand in your pants, as he whispers about much he wants you and all the things he’ll be doing to you.

Glenn-Whenever he gets excessively horny, he’d be rather positive and blunt about it and not care for a second if anyone hears him. He’d try his best to control it but looking at you so much, he’d walk up to you and then ask you if you have any condoms on you, and if not then that it’s fine as he has some in his pockets, only to end up telling you to join him in the nearest room.

The Governor-Whenever he gets excessively horny, he’d just have a need to touch and feel you. He’d surprise you with touches to your shoulders and down your arms as he stands behind you, before starting to bury himself into the crook of your neck. He’d end up griping your waist to him quickly and reach to make you want him just as much.

Abraham-Whenever he gets excessively horny, he’d have the need to show his “Daddy” side of him that you both agreed on and simply catch you to punish you. He’d notice a little mistake in whatever you were doing and just pull you towards him, making you lay on his lap as he gropes your ass tightly and begins to grind up against you.

Eugene-Whenever he gets excessively horny, he’d curl his fists tightly, trying to control himself and eventually get your attention to his problem. Whenever you wouldn’t, he’d take a few deep breaths, only to look you straight in the eyes to tell you to shut up and that you both just need to “fuck” each other like, “Wild Animals”.

Jesus-Whenever he gets excessively horny, he’d tie his hair up aggressively and ask you to go somewhere with him. He wouldn’t care if it would confuse you but he’d just need your attention and surprise you that way. As you’d catch on, you wouldn’t even have time to say anything as he’d already have his hands and lips all over you.

Dwight-Whenever he gets excessively horny, he’d think about you and everything that he has done to you, making him unable to function until he has you. He’d make his way to go find you and hugging you from behind, he’d start to grind up against subtly, only for it to turn into some heavy dry humping to the point where you are at least half naked.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

You're a super amazing writer, just FYI :) If you're still doing prompts, how about 39 for clexa?

Lexa stared down at the text message lighting up her screen in the dark, stared and stared until her vision began to blur. Her heart was stuck in her throat, had been now for going on twenty hours. She’d spent the entire day in bed, skipping her two Tuesday classes and sacrificing a shower in exchange for a snotty pillow, soft blanket, and Grey’s Anatomy reruns. Anyone who asked, though, was given a meticulously thought-out explanation of how she was out of town for the day, visiting the wildlife sanctuary three hours away for a research assignment. It wasn’t unbelievable. It wasn’t even a stretch. Lexa did such things occasionally for her conservation classes. But it was a lie.

At least she didn’t have to worry about a roommate. Being an RA could be a serious pain in the ass, but the single dorm it guaranteed her was a godsend. She had never liked having a roommate. She liked her space, needed her space. Her privacy.

She stared down at the words on her screen again, the last of a long string of text messages (forty-two, to be exact) sent between 10:32 the previous night and now.

I’m going to break into Vale. I swear to Moses, Lexa, I will do it.

Lexa rolled her eyes. Vale Hall was her dormitory, and Clarke didn’t have access. She didn’t even live on campus. She lived in an apartment across town. Lexa huffed a warm breath up toward her eyes. They had been cycling back and forth between too wet and too dry, and now, they were just tired. Her phone buzzed again, and she glanced back down.

I’ll steal Raven’s rock-climbing gear and scale the building.

With a sigh, Lexa flicked her thumb over the screen and scrolled up to read some of Clarke’s earlier messages again.

You know I hate the silent treatment.

Can we just talk about this? Please?

My stomach is in knots. I hate this. Please, talk to me.

It’s been like twelve hours. I didn’t sleep all night. I look like I just climbed out of a trash can. Talk to me.

Can I come over?

Ignoring me only makes me stronger, you know. I level up every time I see the little check mark saying you’ve read my messages but don’t respond. I’m going to hulk out if this goes on much longer.

I know you’re not really at the sanctuary. I can see your location on Snapchat.

Lexa had changed all her settings after that. No read receipts. No location access on her social media. It was a little extreme, but she just needed a day. This one day to be by herself, to feel her stupid feelings, and then to snap back to being herself. Strong. Steady. Secure. Stoic.

And absolutely, positively not in love with her best friend.

Keep reading

the-mad-crocheteuse  asked:

Imagine the reverse situation than the one we witnessed in Voyager, where Claire casually walks on Jamie in his printshop. What if it was Jamie who travelled to the XX century and ended up as Claire's patient in hospital?

Slamming the palms of her hands against the OR doors, Claire rushed into theatre. The call had come through on her pager only moments before, *luckily* she’d just been on her way out and hadn’t had to travel across the city.

“What is it, June?” She whispered to the head nurse as she plunged her hands under the tap, washing the unseen dirt from her fingers in preparation.

“RTA I think, Dr. Somewhere in the highlands though, poor chap’s being airlifted in.”

“Jesus, must be serious,” she mumbled, circling the soap in her hands as she washed away the suds.

Behind her the doors swung open once more, the sound of the heavy metal smacking against the wall reverberating through Claire’s feet and up into her bones as she turned to see her fellow surgeon, Dr Adams, stroll into the tiny clean-up room, his eyes darting around the small space.

“Ah!” He said, a little humour to his tone as he spotted Claire behind June, “there you are, Claire. It seems you’ve been requested.”

“I know,” she replied, placing her hands in the air as if to illustrate the point, “I got the page before I’d even left the building.”

Shaking his head, Dr Adams laughed, “then you’re doubly in demand,” he said, beckoning her forward as he backed out of the room, “because the fellow they’ve just brought in is asking for you too.”

Rolling her eyes, Claire brushed off the silly comment, her hands still hovering in midair. “Don’t be so daft, Dr. There are a million and one ‘Claire’s’, he could be asking for anyone!”

Winking, Dr Adams turned, tilting his head to the side so that Claire could only see his profile as the door began to close, shielding him partially from view, “aye, that maybe true, Claire, but there is only one ‘Claire Beauchamp’ around these parts, ken?”

Claire remained cemented to the spot, her mouth hanging open in confusion for a second after Dr Adams had disappeared from sight before rushing from the room and hurtling down the corridor to the ER admittance desk.

“Where did you tell June they were bringing that RTA in from?” She panted, her heart racing as she tried to calm her frayed nerves. After a short stint in Boston with Frank, it had been clear to Claire that their *epic reunion* wasn’t to last. Only a year after Brianna had been born, she had packed them both up and returned back home to Britain.

Unable to let go, they had moved into a small apartment in central Glasgow. Claire had juggled being a full time mother with her studies and eventually finished her medical training.

The staff nurse on the desk broke through her memories of the last seven years, her inquisitive tone pulling Claire from her reverie.

“Did ye hear me, Dr Beauchamp?” She whispered, seeing the far off look in Claire’s eyes as she waved her hands in front of her face.

“N-no, sorry Amy. Where?”

“Just outside Inverness, the report is sporadic,” she said, her eyes flickering from Claire back to the notes she had open on her messy desk, “says he wandered onto the road out of nowhere. The driver called it in and waited for the ambulance to arrive. Ye ken the highlands, Claire, quite barron at the best of times.”

Nodding, Claire wiped her brow and turned on her heel whispering a discrete ‘thank you’ as she rushed back towards the emergency at hand.

‘Stop it’, she screamed internally, her mind whizzing, all manner of optimistic thoughts rattling around her brain as she scuffed her work shoes against the worn linoleum, ‘who else knows you here…?”

“Maybe, just *maybe*…’ her inner voice begged, her positive side drowning out the negative one.

Stopping for just a second she scrunched her eyes together and shook her head, dispelling all thoughts as she tried to clear her mind of *anything*.

“Dr!” A male voice shouted from in front of her as she brought herself back to the present. “We need you, now!”

Scrubbing in once more, Claire forced herself to listen as the ambulance staff – who’d come in with patient– rattled off all known injuries, their hospital jargon coming to life in front of her eyes as she carefully thought through her process before entering the OR.

Fortunately the patient had been sedated on arrival, his vitals stabilised as much as possible as he was prepped for surgery.

“Are you ready, Claire?” Joe announced, his broad American accent sounding much softer than usual as the pair braced themselves for the job at hand.

RTA’s were uncomfortably unpredictable. Ignoring Dr Adams remarks, Claire began to prepare herself for any given situation.

“Ya never know, LJ,” Joe joked, trying his best to lighten the mood before seriousness set in, “could just be a bump on the backside. A quick once over and out again. Here’s to no internal bleeding!” He whispered in her ear as they opened the swing doors that led to the operating theatre.

The world seemed to stop before completely twisting on its axis as Claire stopped dead. A mop of red hair fell from the table, the curls tumbling over the slate black of the padded cot that supported his weight.

She knew from just the outline of his head; those sharp lines could only belong to one man.

As her vision blurred, Joe put his arms under hers, holding her against his chest as she lost consciousness for just a second.

“So…” he muttered, pulling Claire to one side as the supporting surgeon eyed Claire distastefully, “he *does* know you.”

“Jesus H– *Jamie*,” she spluttered, half believing it to be a dream as she reached her hand out to the unconscious Scotsman.

“Get her out of here! If she’s related, there’s no way she should be here…” Adams perked up, pointing towards the door with a knowing look on his face. “You’re alright to cover, Abernathy?” He continued, ignoring Claire completely as the monotonous beeping picked up pace.

“Of course, Dr.” Joe replied, turning Claire in the direction of the door. “I’ll make damn sure he’s alright, LJ, just go and collect yourself…please…” he begged in a subtle whisper, angling her towards the exit.

In a daze Claire snuck from the OR, her legs heavier than lead as she paused just outside the door, gulping in large amounts of fresh air as her head caught up with her body.

Jamie. It had been him. He was here.



Leaning forward, she placed her hands on her knees and continued to breath as if she was in labour.


The thought of birth brought the image of her daughter to the forefront. All of a sudden Joe’s words made perfect sense.

He’d seen the resemblance between her precocious eight year old and the man lying asleep on the table in front of them. He knew.

Walking backwards, Claire let her back hit the wall as she slid down the magnolia painted plasterboard, her arse hitting the floor with a thump as she pulled her knees up to her chest and closed her eyes.

Hours passed as she waited. Nobody seemed fazed that she was balled up on the floor outside the hospital’s main operating theatre, and for that she was grateful. In the madness her mind had gone totally blank, unable now to conjure even the most basic of assumptions for Jamie’s surprise arrival.

On that fateful day all those years ago he definitely hadn’t been able to travel. She’d watched as he’d placed his hands upon the stone, the look of assuredness covering his face as he’d bid her return to safety. He hadn’t heard the buzzing, hadn’t felt even the slightest bit of the power.

“Claire…LJ?” Joe questioned, his face coming closer to hers as he plucked her from the floor and escorted her to the viewing window.

“I thought her was dead,” she whispered shakily, her voice cracking as she spoke.

“He wasn’t,” Joe replied, certainty lacing his tone, “he *isn’t*.”

“He’s alright?” She sighed, tears welling in her eyes as she placed her hand on the two way glass, the transparent surface frosting with her breath as she leaned her head against the cool window.

“Yes, he’ll be fine. It seems the car just clipped him, most injuries were contained to his right hand side. It saved him really, had he been facing, he might have sustained far more serious wounds.”

“Can I see him?” She questioned, her eyes looking over the blood-stained table where he’d been lain only moments before.

“One thing, LJ,” Joe asked, curiosity gnawing at him, “does she know?”

Shaking her head, Claire let the tears fall as she pictured Bree at home with the babysitter, her soft curls bouncing as she read aloud. “No. She knows Frank wasn’t…but she doesn’t know who.”

Leading her away, Joe’s lips twitched into a small smile as he pointed her in the direction of Jamie’s recovery room. “Well, I guess she will now.”

Taking a deep breath, Claire took a timid step forward, her pulse pounding in her ears as she stepped slowly towards the open door. Placing her fingers on the tepid wood of the doorframe, she placed her foot over the threshold, her eyes wide as she caught a glimpse of Jamie, wrapped up tight in the hospital’s military grade bedlinens.

Creeping over, she moved a stray curl from his forehead. He shifted, his eyes closed as he dozed.

Claire waited, her lips quivering as she did a quick inventory of the man she never thought she’d see again.

Watching, she let her fingers linger, running the pads of them over his pale, clammy skin as she re-memorised every curve. Gasping, she drew back a little as his mouth twitched into a smile, the corners of his lips pulling upwards with her touch –just like he had done all those years ago.

“I must be dead, sassenach,” he croaked, his voice startling her as she stilled her movements and stood as still as she was able, her eyes focused solely on him, “if yer here wi’ me…” pausing, Jamie shifted his head closed to Claire’s hand, silently begging her to continue her blissful ministrations.

Claire held her free hand over her heart as she felt for its telltale beat beneath her ribcage.

“…but I dinna care too much.” He finished, seeming at peace now he’d made his assumptions clear.

“Jamie,” Claire replied, her voice sounding strange to her own ears, “you’re not dead. You’re alive, here, with me in Glasgow.” Swallowing, she tickled her fingers against his warm cheek, grinning through the tears as his skin flushed red. “Oh God, Jamie. You’re alive!”

Choking on thin air, Jamie clenched his fists into the bed sheets and opened his eyes, the aqua of his irises causing Claire to lose all train of thought as they locked onto her whisky ones.

“Dhia!” He breathed, his voice light and airy with shock, “w-what’s the year, Claire?” He asked, the strain clear as he spoke, worried that he might awake at any moment and that she might disappear from his view.

Rolling her shoulders, Claire shimmied closer to Jamie, sliding her hand along his cheek, down the column of his neck and down further until she reached his hand. Holding on tight, she bent down, kissed him lightly on the forehead – her tears falling onto his flushed skin and dripping into his hair as she tried to reign in her fraught emotions – and took in one long breath.

“1955,” she said, her voice steady now as she rubbed his frigid fingers until she could feel the life flow back into them, “It’s April 1955, Jamie Fraser…and you are alive.”

somebody else // stiles stilinski pt. 5

Summary: Stiles broke her heart and now she can never look at him the same. They remained friends, but she can’t exactly find it in herself to truly forgive Stiles and he doesn’t know how to accept her new relationship with the one person he can’t stand. Overtime, they both eventually got over each other… or have they? 

Requested: no, collab with @minhosmeanhoe 

Warning: yes, mature language & themes

Inspired by this song


Nothing had ever compared to the emptiness she felt inside. She was absolutely sure that she felt her heart break at his harsh words. Her throat felt permanently closed and she felt like she couldn’t breath. It felt like there was a rock in her stomach where there were once butterflies.

Regret washed over her as she replayed the heart wrenching moment over and over again. How could she have been so foolish? What did she think would happen? A small part of her hoped that once they kissed and her lips returned to their familiar home that things could go back to normal. How could she have been so naive? Nothing was ever going to go back to normal because there never was a normal.

Keep reading

After show

Hey guys, sorry for disappearing! Inspiration hit me and I wrote this little piece, hope you guys enjoy! Sorry in advance for any grammar or spelling mistakes. I’m not a native English speaker.

Warning: Smut ahead

The door to his hotel room closed with a soft click behind him. Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the suite, his eyes wandering over to her. She was standing in front of the window with her back to him and he could feel his heart starting to race in his chest.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

can you write a small fic about clarke moving in to bellamy's room in arkadia? love your writing <3

a teensy little soft fic with my good friends bed sharing and cuddling

read on ao3!

They come to the realisation a mere ten minutes after breaching Arkadia’s gates.

Or, that is, Clarke comes to the realisation first, and alerts him to it when she mutters a soft, “Fuck,” under her breath.

“What? What’s wrong?” he asks, hand going straight to his rifle as his eyes immediately scan their surroundings.

She presses a hand to his shoulder. “Nothing’s wrong,” she says in an easy voice that soothes away his worries, “It’s just that I realised I no longer have a room here.”

He blinks. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” she says, flashing him a wry smile. “I used to room with my mom but that was before… everything. And I would have asked Raven, but, well…”

Raven threatened them with bodily harm before they even set foot in the lab, saying that if anyone distracted her from her work, she’d do more than just string them to a tree.

Bellamy shifts his rifle again, scruffing his toe at the dirt. They’d stopped underneath one of awnings outside on their way to the apartments.

“Well, you can always stay with me,” he says, staring hard at the line he made in the ground. He can feel her eyes on him, and it makes his ears pink.

The silence draws on long enough that he’s just about to tell her to forget about it, when Clarke says, “Actually, that doesn’t seem like a bad idea.”

“Yeah?” he asks, glancing up at her from beneath his lashes to find her gnawing on her bottom lip.

She gently nudges him with her hip. “Yeah.”

“Alright then,” he says, trying to bite a back a pleased smile.

There’s the barest hint of a smirk tugging at her lips as he leads them to his quarters, so he glances sidelong at her and says, “It’s a good thing we sorted that out quickly. You’re in dire need of a bath.”

It gets the desired result when she shoves him into the wall, and he laughs. “Fuck off, Bellamy,” she says succinctly, but she’s doing a poor job of hiding her laughter too.

Keep reading


Originally posted by rickdixonandthefandomlifeposts

Originally posted by likeag69

Request: Imagine working with Gemma in the office, you’re  always quiet but you go to a SAMCRO party and show your wild side. Jax gets to see a little more of your wild side.

I dunno, I had fun with this. Hope y’all like it.


“So are you gonna come or what?”
You eyed Gemma over the invoices you were inspecting and raised your eyebrow.
“Is that a joke, Gem?”
She crossed her arms over her chest, pursed her lips and leant against the doorframe leading to the workshop.
“You’ve been working for me for four moths, (y/n). Anyone would think you don’t like us.”
“Oh I dont.”
Gemma laughed and you smirked at her before putting the papers back on the desk.
You began putting each invoice into an envelope ready to be sent out when there was a knock on the door.
A blush instantly rose to your cheeks and you glanced up.
“Sorry te interrupt.” The thick scottish accent spoke. “Clay wants ye te take some supplies up te the cabin.”
“Okay.” Gemma nodded.
You stood and grabbed the pile of envelopes off the desk.
“I should um go and post these.” You waved them in the air and Gemma nodded to you.
“Thankyou sweetheart.”
With an awkward wave to Chibs you made your way to the door.
You closed the door behind you and took a step when a gust of wind lifted the envelopes out of your hands, sending them fluttering to the ground.
You muttered as you knelt and gathered them, embarrassed of your clumsiness.
The mention of your name from inside the office caught your attention and you tilted your head towards the closed door, curious as to why you were being discussed. “Why does she only talk te ye?” Chibs asked. “Im guessing she aint coming te the party.”
“She’s just shy, thats all.”
“Aye, or maybe she just cant handle ‘er drink.”
You knew Gemma well enough to know she would have a smirk on her face but her next words surprised you.
“Take it easy, Scot. She’s a good girl, but she’s insecure. I’m sure in time she’ll come round.”
The familiar blush crept up your neck and you stood and made your way to your car, keeping your head down as you trekked across the lot.
Once you were in the safety of your car, with all the doors closed you let out a sigh you weren’t aware you had been holding in.
Gemma was right. The only reason you had stayed away from the parties was because you were shy. You had seen the crow eaters and the clothes (or lack of) that they wore and you didn’t exactly fit in with that crowd. But its not that you didn’t want to go. 
You bit your lip as you stuck the key in the ignition.
Fuck it.
You’d go tonight. It was time.


Take a deep breath.

You rolled your shoulders and adjusted the skirt you had convinced yourself to wear.
Music was already pumping and from where you stood, at the gate to the Teller Morrow lot, you could already see a few of the Tacoma members smoking outside.
Just twenty minutes. Thats all.
Maybe a drink, or two.
You could do this.
You unscrewed the bottle of vodka in your hand and took a swig.
With one last deep breath you took a step. One after the other, you made your way into the lot.
One of the Tacoma members noticed you and gave you ‘the nod’.
Without thinking you flashed him the finger guns, and upon realising your dorkiness, you shuffled hastily inside the club house, leaving an intrigued-and amused- member outside.
Maybe this was a mistake.
People were almost everywhere. The club house was swarming with life and with the amount of leather and bare skin clouding your vision it was a wonder you managed to lay your eyes on Tig.
He met your gaze from across the bar and the way his jaw practically hit the floor in disbelief sent your trademark blush across your cheeks.
“Holy shit!” Tig yelled, catching the attention of the people surrounding him. “She came!”
Chibs, Jax and Opie all glanced in your direction and had to do a double take when they saw it was in fact, the shy office girl in the doorway of their clubhouse.
With their eyes on you you felt more uncomfortable than you thought possible and you waved nervously.
Juice was walking past when he saw you. His eyes widened and glanced between you and the guys, a look of ‘Can you believe this?!’ on his face.
“(y/n)! I didn’t think you were coming!” He gestured for you to join him and you stepped forward nervously.
“Neither did I.” You confessed.
He wrapped his arm around your back and pulled you forward, gradually crossing the room.
The gap between you and the rest of the guys closed as shoulders pushed past you and Juice stopped in front of Jax.
“Look who showed.” Jax smirked.
“Shes actually here.” Tig said, shaking his head in disbelief but a grin on his face.
“Ye know we have our own bar, (y/n). Ye didn’t have to bring yer own drink.” Chibs gestured to the bottle of vodka in your hand.
You shrugged. “I don’t like sharing.”
“Thats my girl.”
You turned to see Gemma, a proud grin on her face and you welcomed her embrace.
“Chucky, get some shots ready.” Jax ordered.
“What are we toasting?” Juice asked eagerly as Chucky passed him a shot.
“(Y/n). She finally showed.”
You blushed but accepted the shot glass Opie passed you.
Everyone raised their glasses.
“To (y/n)!”


The crowd had diminished slightly, with a few of the partygoers heading home or outside as the night went on.
Happy was in the corner of the room, with a crow eater on her knees in front of him.
Chibs and Bobby were chatting to a few of the Tacoma guys over on the sofas.
And you were sat around a table, with a few half naked Samcro members.
The guys had been surprised when you had decided to join their game of poker, and when they had teased you about it, (”Its more of a guys game.”) they had been even more surprised to hear the  words ‘Strip Poker’ come out of your mouth.
But of course they couldn’t say no.
The rules you’d discussed were simple. At the end of the round the player with the highest hand wins and everyone else had to remove a piece of clothing.
Tig was down to his boxers, although you all had a sneaking suspicion this wasn’t because of the game, but in fact because he liked taking his clothes off.
Opie had started of modest, only removing a sock at a time and he still managed to have his jeans on but was shirtless. Not that you were complaining.
Jax and Juice had been eager to rid their shirts and they sat in their shirtless, except for their kuttes. Jax had his boxers on and his socks while Juice sat with his jeans on, but barefeet.
You however, were still fully clothed, except for your cardigan which you had draped over the back of the chair.
One by one you slammed your cards on the table, revealing your cards and you muttered a ‘Shit’ as you saw the results.
Jax had won.
He smirked at you across the table and you lifted the glass of vodka to your lips, taking a long swig.
“Come on, boys. And girl.”
“You don’t have to, (y/n).” Juice smiled at you.
He was sweet, you thought to yourself. But a games a game.
Opie removed his jeans, Tig took off his boxers (earning him a few groans) and Juice stood and untucked his jeans.
All eyes were on you, anticipating your next move.
Jax met your eye across the table and raised his eyebrow.
You smirked and stood.
You snaked your hand under your skirt and pulled your panties down your thighs. Pulling them off your legs you sat back down.
The guys watched you in disbelief as you dropped them in the middle of the table.
“Holy shit.”


“I dare you to give Happy a lap dance.”
Juice glared at you, while you, Jax, and Opie all laughed.
“Hey you wanted to play, man.” Opie chuckled.
“I change my mind, I pick truth.”
“Nah uh. No backsies.” You said as you took a sip of vodka.
Juice sighed and glanced around the room nervously, looking for the Tacoma Killer.
He sat on the sofa next to Kozik, both of them deep in a conversation.
“It was nice knowing you all.” Juice sighed and crossed the room. “Make sure my funeral has a big turn out.”
Jax laughed and the three of you watched intently as Juice stood in front of Happy. “No fucking way.”
Happy glanced up at him, waiting for Juice to speak when Juice turned, his back facing the sofa.
He threw you one last death glare and took a deep breath before slut-dropping in between Happys legs.
“Oh my god.” 

You laughed, at Happys alarmed expression.
His face became even more alarmed when Juice placed his hands on the Killers knees and proceeded to shake his ass in his face.
Happy jumped off the sofa as the three of you erupted in laughter. Juice was straight on the defence, stuttering apologies with his arms up. He was practically waving a white flag and Happy stepped to him, hovering down on him.
He muttered something to Juice that none of your could hear and you all watched as the colour drained from Juice’s face.
Slowly he turned back and walked towards the bar.
The three of you sniggered as he approached.
“I liked it better when you didn’t talk.” Juice snapped and slammed a shot down his throat before checking over his shoulder to make sure Happy wasn’t coming to get him.
You all sniggered again before Opie turned to you.
“Your turn.”
“I dare you to cockblock Chibs.” Juice blurted out.
All the guys looked at you and you shrugged.
“Too easy, Juicey boy.”
You kissed his cheek, feeling slightly bad for his dare, and walked across the room.
Chibs was leaning against the pool table,a blonde crow eater in front of him running her hands across her chest.
You approached confidently and when you reached the couple you shoved the blondes shoulder.
“Touch my old man again and I’ll shoot you in the fucking throat.”
You snarled.
The blonde glanced between you and Chibs before slinking off outside.
“What te fuck are ye playin at, luv?” Chibs asked, a mixture of annoyance and amusement in his voice.
You shrugged. “Truth or dare.”
Chibs laughed and looked behind you, to wear the guys were watching from the bar.
“Dont shoot me in the throat for this.”
“For wha-“
Chibs crashed his lips against yours and your eyes sprung wide open in sock.
Its was over before it began and Chibs pulled away, a cheeky grin on his face as he pulled you into a hug.
“If ye wanted to be my ol lady ye coulda asked.”
You laughed and patted his back before leaving his embrace and heading back to the bar, where Opie was applauding your efforts.
“Nicely done.”
You curtsied and slid on to the barstool next to Jax.
He smiled at you and you smiled back, immediately noticing the presence of his hand on your knee.
At the same time you both turned to Opie.
“Truth or Dare?”


Only the good rock and roll was ever played in the clubhouse but tonight you had managed to convince the boys to let you play something a little different to their usual choices.
The boys had been impressed when you had rapped Biggie Smalls’ ‘Hypnotise’ word for word, and even more so when you had finished your ‘performance’ by downing eight shots straight after the other.
And Chibs’ thought you couldn’t handle your liqour.
The party was dying down, although from your position, dancing on the bar Coyote Ugly style, you woulda thought it was still in full swing.
You got down from the bar and took a break, leaning against it while you caught your breath.
“Nice moves.”
Jax was watching you with a playful smirk on his face and you smiled at him.
“We should go ride.”
“Where do you wanna go darlin? Im too drunk to ride my bike.” Jax said as he took a swig off his beer. He placed an arm on the bar behind you, your bodies only inches apart.
“Who said anything about a bike?”
Jax raised an eyebrow and licked his lips, his eyes looking you up and down.
Maybe it was the liquid courage,or maybe it was the way he had been looking at you all night. Either way, something came over you and you grabbed his head and pulled his lips to yours.
You pulled away with a smug smile on your face and you grabbed Jax’s hand, tugging him to the hallway.
He didn’t resist, eager to see what exactly you had in mind and he followed you eagerly.
You lead him into the room and ordered him to close the door.
He obeyed and while his back was turned you lifted your shirt over your head and whipped off your bra.
When he turned back to face you you were sat on the edge of the bed, wearing only your skirt, your bare breasts on display.
Jax licked his lips and pulled the kutte off his shoulders. He placed it on the back of the chair and stalked across the room towards you, pulling his shirt over his head as he moved.
You admired his chiseled abs and jax stopped in front of you.
With a wink you unbuckled his belt and tugged his jeans and his boxers down his thighs, his already hard length springing free.
He watched you as you took hold of him and ran your tongue over your lips.
As you wrapped your lips around his cock Jax let out a moan.
“You should come to the parties more often, darlin.”


If you want to be added to the tag list for any, or all Sons please let me know.x

@i-want-to-be-watered-by-roger @daniehelene27 @jasonmccannsgirl8699 @hellsmurf96 @i-am-the-luna @aworldwideapart @homicidalteenagedream @jaaxtellerasf @trinasoftballgirl @thejulietfarciertlove @coffeebooksandfandom @kacilove26 

@mrsirishboru @soafanficluvr1 @fortheloveofthesoa @khyharah @samcrolivesforever @redwoodog @jade770 @realpowertwix @supernaturalanarchy @sam-samcro @my-bitch-the-tacoma-killer


Beverley’s shoes made a rough sound as she turned on her tip toes and pulled her opposite foot to rest at her knee, ultimately making a P shape with her legs. Like a ballerina, her turn lasted and she was in complete in control of her speed. She landed, her foot smacking the pavement and let a grin take over her face. “It’s all in balance, see how many you guys can do.” She grinned, daring them. Stan, Richie, and Eddie were sat on the ledge of Stan’s open car trunk. They glanced at each other wearily before Stan shrugged and hopped off to stand at Bevs side. They’d all agreed to try each other’s secret talents, Bevs being her skillful ability to dance.

Stan’s curly hair blew slightly in the wind as Bev positioned his arms and gave him an example turn. It was much more simple then her past one and he swallowed, unsure. But with Bevs encouragement, he took position and spun himself around just as he’d seen. Surprisingly, Stan took to it immediately. He was able to keep himself up for three spins, legs never leaving position. The thing about Stan was he had a sense of balance. Beverly was impressed and gave Stan a high five, that he returned a little shyly. She turned and raised her eyebrows expectingly at Richie and Eddie who didn’t seem to want to follow up Stan.

But eventually, Richie hopped off and took Eddies hand, pulling him after. Eddie was shaking his head back and forth, giving Beverly worried eyes, she curled her pointer finger over her lip and concealed a giggle. “C'mon Eds, let’s show em’ what we got, huh?” He asked but was already raising their clasped hands and spinning Eddie under his arm. It was dizzying, but Eddie couldn’t help but laugh.

Beverly turned the dial up on her pocket radio and held her hand out for Stan and urged him to dance with her. “Ummm. I don’t know how to lead…” He pursed his lips worriedly and Beverly smiled so wide, it created a small dimple in her cheek.

“That’s alright Stanley, I got it.” She spun him around and he started to laugh and took his turn to spin her. They were a graceful and composed pair and as Bev glanced over at the other pair, she covered her mouth with loud laughter.

Richie was attempting to dip Eddie, the smaller boy doing his classic shaking of his head but gripped tightly on to Richie. “Drop me asshole and see what happens!” Eddie shouted as Richie spun him one last time and dipped him flawlessly. Eddie flung his head back and saw an upside down Stan and Beverly laughing their asses off. The song changed and Beverly decided the partners should too and spun Stan over to Eddie and took Richie’s hand. Richie took to it confidently and took the liberty to try a variation of the Lindy Hop he’d seen on old tv reruns.

Stan stopped short, head still spinning, in front of Eddie and they stared at each other awkwardly for a moment. Before an idea occurred to Stan and he crouched down and urged Eddie to get on his back. Eddie shrugged and hopped on, Stan starts spinning him. He couldn’t stop laughing. Though his hands were clasped tightly around Stan’s neck with a little fear.

The four of them continued their charade up and down the sidewalk, switching partners and showing each other new moves every five seconds. After a while, Eddie had to sit down. He stuffed his aspirator in his mouth and Richie plopped down next to him.

“Alright! Who wants to try my secret talent?” Richie shouted and Stan cringed.

“What could yours possibly be?”

“I can put my leg behind my head, wanna see?” Richie asked with a huge grin.

“No!” Eddie and Stan both yelled as Bev shouted “yes!”

anonymous asked:

Title prompt.. give me one good reason.

Serena hadn’t realised she wanted to kiss Bernie until their lips touched, but now she can’t think of anything else. They’re back on the ward, the end of their shifts long passed but it’s hardly been a normal week so they’re still both trying to deal with the aftermath.

Serena’s trying to deal with the aftermath of their kisses too. They only separated when they were startled apart by the banging of the door when the theatre nurses started to prep for the next surgery, and Serena was left to try and regulate her breathing as she gazed after Bernie, following her out of the theatre on unsteady legs. Bernie went straight back onto AAU but Serena detoured to the locker room to change, moaning softly as the cotton of her scrubs brushed across sensitive skin.

They move around each other on the ward as they always have, only now Serena is even more aware of Bernie’s proximity. She automatically reaches to touch her arm as they pass and a shudder runs through her entire body, the ragged little gasp tearing from Bernie’s throat sending a bolt along every nerve. It’s all she can do not to drag her close and snog her all over again, and she wonders how on earth this attraction escaped her awareness for so long.

When everything has mercifully calmed down and they can leave for the night Serena spies Bernie making for the locker room to change out of her scrubs. She glances over her shoulder and then hurries after her, is through the door just as Bernie opens her locker. Bernie turns to see who followed her and her eyes darken. Serena stalks across the small room, crowds Bernie against the lockers and kisses her, one hand in Bernie’s hair, the other sliding around her waist and gripping her scrubs half way up her back. Bernie’s shock lasts a single beat of her racing heart and then she’s grasping at Serena too, opening her mouth to Serena’s tongue, moaning against her lips. Or maybe that was her doing the moaning, Serena has no idea.

She pulls away abruptly, conscious of the unlocked door behind her. ‘Jason’s away,’ she says breathlessly, reaching to smooth Bernie’s rumpled scrubs.

Bernie gazes at her, hopeful and disbelieving, her eyes almost black.

‘If you’re as interested as I am in continuing this somewhere rather more private?’

‘You have no idea,’ Bernie replies and kisses Serena, fingers dancing down her forearm and across the back of her hand.

‘Oh, I think I do,’ Serena smiles as Bernie chases her lips to ghost another kiss to them.


Bernie wakes with a start. It takes her a moment to work out where she is, to work out that she’s naked and that the soft, warm body pressed against her is Serena. And then it all floods back: the week they’ve had, Fletch, kissing Serena, more – oh god, so much more.

Bugger, she thinks, shooting upright so fast her head spins. Idiot. Ruined it. Took advantage. Idiot.

She tries to get out of bed but Serena has rolled over, has curled around her and is tugging her back down with sleepy protests. Bernie resists, terrified what she might see when she looks at her, but Serena is insistent. So Bernie sinks back onto the mattress, takes the deepest breath she can manage and opens her eyes.

‘Hello you,’ Serena says softly, smiling. Her hand is gentle as she tucks Bernie’s hair behind her ear, as she cups her face. ‘Alright?’

‘No. Yes. I don’t know.’ Bernie screws her eyes shut again, her mind screaming at her to run before everything crashes down around her.

Serena rubs her arm soothingly, waits for her to calm a little. ‘I’m ok,’ she murmurs. ‘No regrets. You don’t– do you regret–?’

‘No,’ Bernie says quickly, eyes flying open to meet Serena’s. ‘I just– I– I’m rubbish, Serena. I don’t want to mess us up.’

Serena’s face softens, the worry vanishing from her eyes as quickly as it had appeared. ‘Not a good enough reason for me to let you scarper, I’m afraid,’ she teases gently, and Bernie manages a tiny smile. ‘I’ve never been more than friends with a woman before,’ Serena admits. ‘Never been more than friends with my best friend either. It’s quite frankly terrifying.’

‘We don’t–’ Bernie starts, but Serena stops her with a finger on her lips.

‘I’ve been wanting more of you for weeks, I just hadn’t realised what, exactly. But now I do.’ She leans closer, kisses Bernie softly but surely. ‘I trust you,’ she murmurs. ‘I trust you, and I want you. So much, Bernie.’

The feels of their mouths slanted together fills Serena with wanting all over again. She pulls Bernie on top of her, cradles her slim body between her legs and groans, can’t stop herself arching up to press them closer, firmer.

‘We don’t – oh god, Serena – do we have time?’ Bernie asks, making herself hold back.

‘Not keeping a timesheet is one of the perks of being head of department,’ Serena says between kisses, fingers trailing up and down the curve of Bernie’s spine. ‘And I don’t know about you,’ she adds, shuddering as Bernie shifts against her, ‘but there’s no way I can go to work in this state.’

Bernie growls low in the back of her throat. Before Serena can move Bernie’s hips are pressing down hard against hers, Bernie’s nipping and then licking at her throat.

‘As long as the boss doesn’t mind her co-lead being late too,’ Bernie murmurs, lips trailing along Serena’s jaw towards her mouth, thumb brushing the soft, soft underside of her breast.

‘I’m sure – oh, Bernie – I’m sure she’ll make an allowance. If you give her a good enough reason, that is.’

‘Will this do?’ Bernie asks, before her lips meet Serena’s in a bruising kiss.

Red (1)

Summary: Tom tells stories of your relationship using colors.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 540


A/N: so I’ve picked out 10 colors for this mini series. It’ll just be a small story for each color but they all lead up to the final color/story. Anyways I hope you enjoy!

Her lips were a brilliant red color and Tom couldn’t stop himself from staring at them. Harrison nudged him many times in a ‘you’re staring’ warning but Tom couldn’t look away. The way they curved into a bright smile when you laughed. Red was a powerful color on you.

Red was also the color of your heels paired with a simple black dress to match your lips. Bold and beautiful were the only two words to describe you. Tom hadn’t seen anyone quite like you, he was mesmerized.

“Tom you’re staring,” Harrison hissed into his ear smiling elsewhere.

“Look at her,” was all Tom could reply. He knew he was staring, he didn’t need Harrison to tell him that.

Suddenly your head was turned in his direction and Tom’s heart stopped when your eyes connected. The small smile on your prominent lips was enough to take his breath away. Tom was frozen in spot so you made the first move walking over to him.

“Hi I’m Y/N,” you stuck your hand out.

Tom grabbed the soft hand shaking it lightly before answering. “Tom.”

“You’re in this movie right?” You asked.

Tom smiled. “Yeah I am.” When you moved your lips Tom couldn’t look elsewhere. The only question in his mind was, ‘are they as soft as they look?’ Because though they were coated in lipstick they looked like small pillows.

“You like the color?” You teased causing Tom to shoot his gaze up. Red was also the color his ears and neck turned in embarrassment. 

“I find it hard to look else where,” he admitted sheepishly in a small voice.

His honest answer also made you turn red. Tom felt accomplished admiring the blush he caused to spread across your face. You were a blubbering mess so you excused yourself walking away.

The rest of the night Tom didn’t see you but he thought of you. The image of your red lipstick burned in his brain. He could barely focus on the movie that was playing in front of him. All that consumed his mind was you.

Tom asked around and found out that you were the little sister of one of his co stars. He found said co star later to thank them for inviting you along to the movie premiere. They were confused but just laughed at Tom’ s adorableness. 

By the end of the evening Tom accepted the fact he was probably never going to see you again. He was grateful he got to meet such a woman, someone who would be stuck in his mind for awhile. The little black dress, the red heels, your blazing lips…

“Mr. Holland?” A voice asked from behind Tom. Tom turned around immediately to face a man holding a piece of paper. “For you.”

Tom grabbed the paper unfolding it to reveal a note.

Since you liked it so much.

Underneath was a lipstick print clearly made by you. Even further down the paper was a number.

Looking up and searching for your red lips and mischievous eyes Tom scanned the room. They met by the door from where you were leaving. Your red lips pulling into another breath taking smile.

Your red lipstick quickly became Tom’s favorite thing.

anonymous asked:

Prompt: Alex being embarrassed about asking for something in bed. Maggie being the soft reassuring girlfriend she is

She told Kara she’s been… thinking… about Maggie.

A lot.

And she has been.

Thinking about her smile and the way she tries to look cocky when she’s shooting pool; the way she’s tough – so damn tough – but she never seems to mind losing to Alex.

Thinking about how quickly she gets leads, how brilliantly she deduces means, motive, and method.

Thinking about her lips, how those jeans fit her as she bent over to line up a shot at the pool table last night, how close they had been when they clinked beer bottles in salute to them, to life, to being alive one more day.

Thinking about what Maggie might look like with her clothes off, thinking about how those lips might taste, thinking about what it would be like to touch her hair, to undress her, to be skin to skin with her, to make her scream.

And now? Now that she’s kissed her, been rejected, been sought out, been kissed… now that she has a girlfriend – she still can’t believe she has a girlfriend – Alex keeps thinking.

Keeps thinking, and sometimes, amazingly – doing.

Because kissing has turned to making out, and making out has brought hands under shirts and mouths to exposed throats and desperate, breathy gasps of the other’s name out of panting, parted lips.

She and Maggie agreed early on – at Maggie’s soft but firm urging – to take things slowly, and they have been, they have been – it’s been hard, it’s almost been impossible, but they have been – but god, that doesn’t stop Alex from thinking.

Thinking about sex, and eventually, experiencing it. 

Soft and slow and something akin to reverent, eyes locked into eyes and fingers interlaced and soft moans of the other’s name instead of sharp screams of curses.

And god, Alex Danvers loves having sex with Maggie Sawyer. Letting Maggie make love to her. Making love to Maggie. With her.

But still, she thinks.

And, more often than not, she’s embarrassed by what she thinks.

Maggie tells her she shouldn’t be. They talk about everything before they do it – Maggie is never anything if not careful with Alex – and Maggie has those soft, penetrating eyes that Alex is pretty certain would never judge her, would never laugh at her in a mean way.

But still.

Sometimes she’s embarrassed by what she thinks.

Because she’s new to the whole experience of enjoying intimacy, and the things they’re already doing are so powerfully intimate; so too are the things Alex wants to do. The things Alex is afraid to ask for.

Because Alex thinks about Maggie holding her down. Maggie tying her down. Maggie leaving marks all across her chest with her lips, her tongue, her teeth. Maggie blindfolding her and gagging her and fucking her hard and silent until the only sound is the connection of their bodies and Maggie’s ragged breath.

She thinks about it, but even though Maggie tells her she can ask anything, ask for anything, she doesn’t quite know how to.

So the next time Maggie’s on top of her, panting and eager and wanting her – Alex still can’t quite believe that this woman wants her, or hell, that she wants Maggie back – she thinks her thoughts and her thoughts turn her on so hard that she freezes.

“Al, you good? Did I hurt you?” Maggie stops immediately, hoisting herself up on her hands so she’s not keeping her weight on Alex, her eyes scanning Alex’s face, Alex’s body, for signs of pain or fear.

“No, no, I just um… You know what, never mind, can you um… can you go back to kissing me? The kissing was good.”

Maggie smiles irrepressibly, because god is her nerd perfect.

“Mmmm, I agree, Danvers,” she murmurs before lowering herself carefully back down on Alex’s body, but when their lips connect, when the weight of Maggie’s body covers her own, Alex thinks again, and Alex hisses.

And Maggie stops.


Alex heaves a frustrated sigh and Maggie fights down a panic attack. “It’s nothing, Maggie, I told you, we can keep going – “

“Alex, I don’t want to keep going if you’re only doing this for me – “

“I’m not, I don’t want to stop, I just… I want… I want something… more.” She doesn’t look up at her and she chews on her bottom lip and she fights to keep down tears, because she’s not used to asking for something she wants. And she’s certainly not used to asking for something this… intimate.

But Maggie’s eyes immediately soften, all her defensiveness, all her fear, evaporated with Alex’s admission. She shifts her weight onto one hand and strokes Alex’s cheek with the other.

“It’s okay to want something more, Danvers. You can ask me for anything, I’ve told you. If I don’t like what you’re suggesting, or I’m not in the mood for it right now, I’ll let you know. But nothing you want is bad, Alex. You’re not bad for wanting anything that you want, and I like that you’re asking, it’s hot, I – “

“I want you to tie me down, or cuff me down, whatever, and I want you to blindfold me and I want you to gag me and I want you to fuck me really, really hard while… all the… all that… is happening.” 

She runs out of gas, out of courage, halfway through her blurted question, and she lowers her chin to her chest so she can’t see Maggie’s face, and she wishes, she wishes, she wishes she hadn’t said anything.

But then Maggie’s gentle finger is under her chin. “Alex, look at me. Please?”

Alex lets Maggie tilt her face back up, her eyes wide and scared and full of tears, but Maggie? Maggie’s smile is soft and understanding, with just the right dash of wrecked.

“Thank you for telling me what you want, Alex.”

Alex fights to hold Maggie’s eyes, to not look away.

“And what do you want?”

“About what you just said?”

Alex nods, tearful and afraid and on just this side of mortified.

Maggie bites her lip and shifts her hips slightly and takes a long, slow breath. “I would absolutely love to share all that with you, Alex. To do all that with you.”

“Now?” Alex rasps, almost timid, waves of embarrassment fading out as waves of arousal crash back in.

“Can we build up to it? I don’t wanna move too fast.”

Alex nods immediately, reaching up to stroke Maggie’s hair, to kiss her lips soft and chaste and grateful.

“But I uh… I don’t want you to stop telling me fantasies. If you have more, I mean.”

“I’ll tell you more of mine if you tell me some of yours, Sawyer.”

Maggie’s breath hitches and she wonders for a moment how a woman with this kind of darkness, this kind of light, in her eyes could ever possibly want her, care for her, be laying underneath her, so open and so vulnerable and so trusting.

“Deal,” she whispers, grateful the night is only just beginning.

6x10 Alternate Ending

Submitted by: Jenna

Description: This is how I wanted 6x10 to end. I like to think I filled in the parts they didn’t show. Mostly Stydia after they reunite. Hope you enjoy!Starting scene from 6x10: Stiles, Lydia and the Sheriff just killed ghost rider Claudia in the school hallway.

Rating: K+

Genre: Missing scene, Romance

Keep reading


               Steam rose from the claw-foot tub in clouds that smelled of soft lavender. Its scent was enticing, his body craved to be enveloped with the hot, soothing waters that rippled before him. As he impatiently waited for his bath to fill he began shedding his soiled clothing, allowing them to remain wherever they dropped. He paid no mind to the blood stains or the dirt smudged into the fabric, he desired nothing more than to melt away the ache in his body.

               At last the tub was full, almost to the brim and still steaming. A contented sigh escaped him as he lowered himself into the warmth and his tense muscles began to relax. He leaned his head back with his arms along the bath’s edge as he lay there on the edge of sleep.

               A soft knock came from the door before it slowly opened and allowed her to peek around, “Connor,” she smiled at him. The sight of it warming him just as much as his bath. “I brought you fresh towels and a drink.”

               “Thank you.” He took the drink from her, taking a brief sip of the hot liquid before placing it on the wooden floor.

               She smoothed his messy brown hair as she moved to stand behind him. “How are you feeling?”

               “Better now that you are here.” He leaned his head back to show her his smile. As he took in her beauty he traced a hand up her arm before coming to rest against her chin. “I have missed you.”

               “As I have you.” She kissed him then, relishing the taste of his lips and his touch as he held her there. As eager as they were it was gentle and it filled the longing the two had endured for the past weeks.

               “Join me.” He tugged her softly but she made no attempt.

               She chuckled instead. “We’ll flood the whole room if I were to do that. You filled your bath to the brim.”

               He leaned forward, “I will let some out.”

               “No.” She pulled him back towards her, slowly kneading her fingers into his shoulders as she spoke, “You deserve to relax after spending so much time away on business.”

               He let out a delighted sigh as she worked his sore muscles. “I wish to spend my time home with you.”

               “I know you do.” As did she. She longed for him more this time around. It had been a top priority mission and with that comes great risk. It was hard not only on her not knowing if he was okay but she knew it had been hard on him. Even if that wasn’t something he would let on. Seeing him now, having returned safe with only minor scrapes and bruises, relieved her of most of those worries.  

               She worked her way down his chest, her hands dipping below the water’s surface. His head leaned against her shoulder as she kneaded circles lower and lower. She came to a stop at his hips, taking a moment to look at Connor’s peaceful face; a smudge of a smile with the rest of his face stoic as ever. She pressed a quick kiss against his temple before continuing. Her movements slowed as she rubbed closer to his inner thighs. As she observed him a sly smile pressed its way onto her lips.

               Unable to resist any longer she began palming him, as soft grunt rumbled in his chest as she did. She could feel him stiffening beneath her touch, growing larger with every stroke until he could no more. Both hands wrapped around his large erection, drawing a throaty moan from within him, followed by her name. She smile against his neck, listening to his breath quicken and his moans ride up. She began biting his neck just the way he liked it, leaving soft bruises in her wake.

               She tightened her grip on his dick, letting it throb in her hands and rubbing the tip with her thumb. His moans echoed in her ears, tying heated knots in her stomach. Oh how she desired to feel him but she wanted to please him first. As much as she enjoyed him pleasuring her, it was almost as satisfying to see him in pure bliss. She loved the way his eyebrows furrowed together and how his lips parted just enough to let out his soft moans.

               “Y/N.” He pleaded. “Let me…”

               She quickened her pace, cutting off his train of thought and building the heat of his pleasure. Its intensity left him clutching the edge of the tub, his calloused fingertips digging into the cast iron and anchoring him to the spot. His desperate moans filled the air surrounding them as his climax reached, leaving his cock pumping fervently in her hands.

               He peppered her cheek with gracious pecks of his lips before leading her to stand to his side. She knew what he wanted, his eyes saying it as he watched her. Her fingers played with the white lace hem of her shirt, slowly sliding it up her torso and revealing her soft midriff. His hand reached for her but she denied him the satisfaction of touch, instead she continued to tease him. She bunched her shirt beneath her breasts and began to fuss with thin straps, taking her time sliding each one of her shoulders.

His deep brown eyes pleaded with her, desire still burning hot beneath the surface. She smirked at him then, deciding she would play nice. She pulled the lingerie over her head, her soft breasts bouncing gently as they fell. She stood there a moment, allowing him to look her over once more before she turned her back to him. He grumbled in frustration, growing tired of her play.

She chuckled quietly, “I can go slower if you wish.” He quickly grew silent, with only the sound water rippling as he fussed in the tub. Pleased with his submission she rewarded him by sliding her shorts off, bending over slightly as she dropped them to the floor and revealing her plump arse.

“Y/N…” He groaned.

She sashayed over to him, her breasts swaying with each strut. “What would you have me do?”

He grinned as he motioned her to sit on the side of the tub. She happily did as he wished, sliding a leg over his shoulder as he angled his mouth against her pussy and wrapped a strong arm around her for support. She chewed on her lip while anticipating the warmth of his tongue on her clit. Sliding her fingers through the brown tresses of his hair she guided him closer, beggingly bumping his lips against her. He obeyed, immediately sucking her nub between his lips and licking it with the tip of his tongue. She twitched in response, grabbing a handful of his hair as she did and biting her bottom lip harder.

“Connor…”she begged.

He smiled, his breath ghosting her exposed pussy. As he looked up at her, he slid his middle finger into her moist entrance, expertly pulling a dire moan from her chest. He watched her a moment more before lowering his mouth back to her clit. His rhythmic movements against her nub left her body tingling with the heat of pleasure. It crept up to the base of her neck, swirling its way into her head and left her moaning desperately. His fingers ruthlessly thrusting inside her built the heat in her stomach, making it almost unbearable. As it swelled she bucked her hips against him, looking for the dizzying relief her body craved. At last her orgasm came and her moans echoed in his ears. He continued to tease her clit, swirling his tongue in small circles until she wretched his head away and squirmed into the warm bath below.

               Seated between Connor’s legs she brushed her hair back with dampened fingers, the scent of lavender now swirling around her head. It was a welcomed smell, calming and leaving her feeling so very content.

He settled back against the tub, wrapping his arms around her waist and anchoring her to him. “I missed this.” He mumbled as he pressed a kiss into her hair.

               She smiled and played with his fingers as she spoke, “As did I. Perhaps we can enjoy more after supper.”

               He let out of a hushed chuckle, “I would like that very much.”

Better With You

Summary: Justin has some revelations about you while on tour.

Warnings: like one cuss word, making out, light smut 

Word Count: 1364

A/N: See I told ya’ll I’d get something with Justin posted (: Let me know what you think!(:

Originally posted by princebiebers

Justin ran his fingers through his hair slightly grasping onto the strands pulling lightly on them. He was beyond bored and frustration was soon ebbing it’s way through him. He had gotten done with rehearsals over an hour and a half ago and he had nothing to do until it was time to perform. Unfortunately for him that meant five hours of waiting around, trying to entertain himself. He knows his boredom has everything to do with the fact that Y/N had just left to go back to filming her movie and she was no longer around.

Keep reading