and move it back forth against the floor

Rest Stop Part 4

When Lance woke up, his arm wasn’t a bloody mess anymore and he could hear something other than his heartbeat trying to dash out of his body. Exhaling, he scanned the room and realized the quite chatter he heard was from upstairs. It was probably the refugees. He blinked.

The refugees. Wait.

Sleep chamber knees or not, Lance scrambled out of the pod, his armor ruining the impact of the floor when he tripped. Lance kind of needed something to smack some sense in him as he frantically ran for the door.

Keith? Is Keith okay? Is Pidge? Where’s the team? I don’t see anyone in a pod, so that either means everything’s okay or someone’s dead-

Where’s my helmet?

Really, Lance? Now? Of all times?

The itch for to find it doesn’t make much sense until Lance remembers there are communication systems in his helmet. I’m a genius!

After three seconds of looking around the room like an idiot, Lance spots it on top of his folded jacket and jeans. His shoes sat next to them. Someone must have thought to leave them there for him, which was nice, but he wasn’t going to take off his armor until he knew no one was dead or in danger. Picking it up, he pushes it on his head and sighs as it turns on at his DNA signature. “Hello, anyone there?”

“Lance!” Allura’s pleased voice overwhelms him for a second, but he focuses on what she says. “I’m glad you’re awake. All the prisoners are located in the ballroom, and there were only a handful of injuries. Your fellow paladins are safe and doing recon at the moment. You can change into your regular clothes and join them in you wish, but Coran and I wouldn’t mind you hanging back.”

He smiles. Good, everyone was accounted for. “Nah, I’ll go.” He says, shucking off the armor on his calves. He pulls it off while Allura chatters on. “Okay, I’ll send them a message to let them know you woke up and will be joining them shortly. They’re on the coast of this island, which is relatively small, so you’ll be fine walking out the castle door and straight. Rest up when you’re done. We can’t have a paladin tired from battle injuries. Don’t think you can get away with it either. Hunk has a drone with him that monitors the rescue and I will see if you try anything reckless.”

“Okay, Allura.” He laughs, removing his chest plate. She huffs, and says goodbye, the switches off the coms. Lance pulls off his helmet and peels away his flight suit. His back is wide, exposed, and easy to see.

He knows. He knows. He should hurry.

Keith toes a thick chip of metal, flipping it over in a pile of rubble. They’ve just cleared out another jetty, reeling in prisoners with Pidge’s bayard on the floating escape pods, and pointing out the direction they should walk for help. A furry pile of three distinct round mounds hops past quickly, fluffy pastel fur tickling the other colors. It chirps in thanks before speeding up. Cold, dry hands pat Keith on the arm in gratitude as a leathery mix of tree and human walks past, thin legs extending to move the whole body like it’s floating above it.

He huffs. He wants Lance.

Yeah, he could admit it. Lance, was a solid person to have beside him. He always had Keith’s back, he was loyal and funny, and he had just taken a bullet for him. He wanted to make sure he was okay. He wouldn’t stop looking back, searching for a rustle in the bushes and a bright smile, his heart lighter but impatient without Lance.

Keith sighed and crossed his arms, smiling tiredly.

Yeah, he really couldn’t wait to have his sharpshooter by his side again.

After all, a good team takes two.

Lance tugs on the waistband of his jeans and slips on his shoes.

His armor is a heap on the floor in front of the pod - he’ll have to come pick it up later. Anxiety twirls around by his feet and dances up towards his back. His exposed back. There’s a problem. He needs to cover his tan skin immediately. But he hadn’t been left a shirt. He’d have to wear just his jacket and not take it off.

They did “salvage” in casual clothes for a reason. The armor, as protective as it was, added weight. It might have been light and flexible, but it still got in the way of some maneuvers, and if someone fell in water, it would weigh them down. Even if the helmet had life support, it only lasted so long. There were too many “what if’s” when it came to the armor and water. Their best chance at surviving was getting to the surface as fast as possible. Unnecessary weight would slow them down.

Funny how Lance was only physically light. He sunk like a rock everywhere else.

It was ironic how many people would want him to drown when he was the only one who could swim.

Stuffing his arms inside, Lance shrugged on his jacket, and zipped it up. He passed through the halls like a ghost, the survivors busy chattering around him. Demon held inside his jacket, he walked out into the semi tropical rainforest.

It was the worst possible situation.

Lance had just brushed past a leafy bush to have the sea roar in his ears and salt hit his lips. The team was hovering over the rocky coast that disappeared into the blue ocean, craving to save the pod tittering on a small cliff of rock, but unable to risk crossing the water. The pod was absolutely trashed , the spike of obsidian piercing the buoyancy - if it fell, it’d sink to the bottom. Flying out would get them both killed - the pod could fall and take one of the team down, trapping them in the waves, and both the prisoners and them would drown. But what made it horribly, horribly worse was who was in the pod.

“Dad! Matt!”

Two recongzinable faces peered out the door way, the door probably having been ripped off in the crash. Matt was gripping the edge, bracing himself and using his leg to hold back a weary Samuel Holt. He was definitely injured, unconcious, the small trail of dark blood dripping off into the ocean. The sea rocked and churned underneath them, an uncomplete death sentence, and the pod creaked ominously, ready to give in and crash at any second. Dread sat heavy on Lance’s tongue.


Shiro was grasping Pidge by a hand, his face terrified but trying to gain control. Pidge wasn’t struggling against Shiro- she was struggling against herself, desperation written in her features, but the menacing roll of the ocean warded her away. All she wanted was to save them, Lance could tell, but her body was screaming to flee the water, to fly, to escape being dragged from the sky, dragged to a heavy, wet death. Hunk and Keith looked like a watered down version - scared, cautious motions back and forth, unsure and scared.

Lance’s hand was already playing with his zipper.

Everything about Matt screamed tense and near frantic. Tensed like a cat, his body locked against the open air, sagging like an acrobat on ropes, Matt clearly was trying to find a way out of this without killing himself, his dad, or his sister. But he hadn’t found a possibility. If he moved, the pod would tilt with his weight, or his dad would fall into the water. No one could fly out to them - he’d have to get off himself. But he couldn’t move, the floor of the pod wrecked with a spike behind him and Samuel supported by his leg.

Lance could be that possibility.

Like a sick bird that had finally had enough, the pod plummeted in the water with the screech of torn metal.

Pidge’s heartbroken scream matched it.

Lance was tearing out of his shoes and jacket, tossing it in the sand, head leaps and bounds ahead of him. Sand kicked up from his sprint sprayed the droid and the team as he raced past. Lance could feel their incredulous stares go from the flooded hunk of metal to his bare back, but it didn’t freeze the determination in his veins. He dove in the water with a splash.

Calm was the first word in his mind when the swirling blue washed over his head. It was calm here, the gentle roll of the current miles below him. He was light, weightless. The second word was control. In water, Lance was in command, a quiet authority. He pushed and pulled himself along, arms scooping out his way. Quick, strong kicks brought him to the submerged metal ship, and he pressed two hands to the metal, looking for the window. This ocean wasn’t his, wasn’t theirs’s. They needed to get out soon.

Gliding in through the empty window frame, Lance slinked up to search over the jagged metal and broken, dead wires. Matt’s transfixed face meet his. His eyebrows furrowed, and for someone who should be drowning, he was doing remarkably well at staying calm.

Matt stared at him as if he was a mirage almost, but Lance could tell Matt was the kind who didn’t care as long as they didn’t die. Tapping the roof of cramped pod, Lance waited for Matt to nod before reaching over and working Samuel over the barrier with him, pulling the older man into his arms. A cut craved out a thin line across his calf, a blood came from a smaller one of his head. He was clearly passed out and needed to be brought to the surface ASAP. Lance smiled and held up one finger, then two. Realizing Lance would come back for him, Matt nodded sagely and floated back.

Propelling off the wall, Lance left water dragging behind him. The weight in his arms was incredible - the man wasn’t much shorter than him but had to weigh almost twice as much with his wings.

Thick and waterlogged, they curved and looked fluffy like Pidge’s. Lowered with age, his wings dragged behind him like a pair of broken airplane wings. Streaked with brown and gray darker than Pidge’s, they’d ironically cause the man they made light to drown like an anchor if Lance let go.

He doesn’t dare tempt this new ocean.

Breaking past the surface with a gasp, Lance clutches Samuel to his chest and awkwardly swims to shore with one arm. Scrambling up the loose, wet clumps of sand, he ignores the stricken staring of them team and flips Samuel on his back.

He starts pumping Samuel’s chest.

Come on, come on.

He’s on a time limit, damnit!

He pushes harder, and Samuel suddenly jerks against him, coughing water out of his lungs. Lance takes the second to arrange him on his side so he doesn’t choke on his own vomit, then dashes back into the ocean. His kicks are a last-ditch effort that pay off, literally almost ramming himself into the pod. He yanks himself through the window and nearly slices his hand open on the broken metal wall. He might not be able to fly, but he can swim and save someone drowning. He can. He can, no matter how worthless he is. It is called a trash can - not a trash cannot. (He thinks that’s a line from some anime, but he doesn’t have time to really ask himself if he made a refrence while saving someone drowning. He probably did).

Matt’s lips are turning blue when Lance arrives. His jaw is set and cheeks ballooned out, precious oxygen held inside. Quickly, he reaches out to Lance, who helps him over the wreckage. Wrapping his arms around Lance’s neck, he tucks himself against his body. Lance latches an arm around him, careful to hook it under his wings. They are near replicas of Pidge’s, though clearly entering the final stages. Less childish, more rectangular in design, with darker hints of brown. The tops poke Lance gently in the face, but the bottoms are pressed to Matt’s knees.

Using the smooth sheet of metal as a boost, Lance rushed up to the surface, leaving the pod to sink even faster than before. The distance was greater, the weight heavy, and the time less, but he’d have wings before he let go of Matt.

Bobbing to the surface, he gulps in air. Matt is sucking in giant breathes against his neck, giggling and trembling with relief. He even happy kick-spams to shore with Lance.

But relief is far, far, away from Lance.

The weight of a wingless world crashes on his back, so, so much heavier than Matt or Samuel.

His shoes are too far away.


He doesn’t wait for the team to ask questions, doesn’t give the anxiety and self hate a chance to strike, snatching up his jacket. There’s a quick “Hey-” before water is filling his ears again, and he’s swimming out, swimming away. Desperation and adrenaline sing in his veins, overruling this sea’s temper. This isn’t his ocean. The pushes and pulls are closer to shoves and yanks, semi-aggressively telling him to leave, but Lance makes his way through anyhow. Currents a similar shade of blue to the ones from Earth twirl around him, tiny air bubbles decorating them like stars. It’s frigid, a cold, agitated embrace that makes Lance burn in a satisfying way. He wasn’t like the others, he couldn’t be. No one wanted a wingless. Nothing was ever permanent, not even love.

Lance comes up for air, swallowing a lungful before smoothing back down into the deep. The few seconds he’s up, he hears the team,incomprehensible , but they’ve figured out he’s leaving. Fear pounding at the brittle door calm forces up in his head, Lance dives deeper, the water turning darker without the sunlight. He can still see, but the water is a murky, dusty blue, not the clear, aqua where the light reflects easily. His speed is probably breaking any records he’s had before. Nothing like the people you came to love hating you to make you have a lighting fast exit.

Rocketing through the water, Lance left giant disturbances in his wake. Air bubbles burst out of existence behind him. He had already shifted when he came up for air - his hands curved out his path with the webbing, and the water pressure boxed gently on his ears. His knees weren’t knees anymore, just two long, flat masses of flesh and bone that shot him through the water. The second pair of eyelids he had blinked out any grime in the water, the rhythm different and more pronounced than his first pair. His tongue pressed against the sharp eyeteeth in his mouth, the threat of nicking his tongue grounding him.

He doesn’t know how long he swims, limbs throbbing with fluid energy. He goes until rocks start to spike up, some gentle curves and other sudden daggers slicing through the water. Miles below, he can spot the muddled, bright light purple and galaxy red glow of underwater volcanoes in the darkness. Lance hasn’t seen anything alive yet, but he knew better than to test it by exploring near lava.

Gliding up against the smooth rock, Lance spots the openings to caves, pretty corals fanning out from them and shells dotted here and there. Clutching his jacket tighter, he twists through one. It’s small, and hallow, the water pooling much lower than the majority of the rock. The roaring of the waves crashing washes over the cave, but the cave shelters him. Coal black rock juts out here and there, blocky, but gorgeous in the way only sea caves were. Soft colored crystals lit up small patches of shadow, a handful clustered around an alcove.

Carefully, he clambers up the dry rock to the opening and settles back into it, his knees pulled to his chest, cheek resting against the even rock. The anxiety coils up inside his neck.

Now they despise you.

I mean, why wouldn’t they?

Even you despise you.

Useless, ugly, waste of space. Wingless.

Just drown in that goddamn ugly water you call home.

It suits you.

Nothing but extra weight.

God, why do you exist?

Chilly air pricks at Lance’s bare feet. He tucks himself tighter, wriggling his toes. His jacket is drenched, but he drapes it around the exposed parts of his back. He clings to the rock, hoping the warmth will come back. He’s not freezing, but numb, like rain soaked pavement.

Leave already!

He could stop here, lulled by the tune of a sea that wasn’t his, void emotions filling up his silhouette, abandoned by himself, half asleep in a crevice with a mundane storm brewing over head.

Yes, this would make a good rest stop.

In which I headcanon that “bracing shower” is a euphemism for touching yourself.  Rated E.  Spoilers for 6x18.

Killian stomped up the stairs, a pleasant tingle in his fingers and toes that made him feel heavy and tingly.

“Tingly,” he whispered to himself, shaking his head, and his hand for good measure.  He grabbed a hold of the railing when he nearly slipped on the landing, socks sliding on the slick wooden floors.

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Alec Lightwood Imagine: Lifeline


Prompts: 19.-“Stop it! It tickles!”, 
26.- “Come over here and make me.”,
62- "You got a cute butt.”

Summary: Reader finds Alec training in the middle of the night andapologize s for the harsh words from earlier. Then they train together which ends up with Alec getting tickled.

Word Count: 1003

Originally posted by alectightwood

“Dammit Alec, can you just stop ignoring me?” I threw my hands into the air getting impatient by his behavior.

It was 3 AM and instead of sleeping he was in the training room fighting the punching bag. It was a result of us having a fight before.

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Not Quite

Not Quite 
Rated: Mature
[Monster Woo helps you find an alternative to your frustrations]

You knew a quick fix to your problem.

It was a really simple and easy thing to do, to diffuse your situation. And having a boyfriend as willing and sensual as Young Woo you would think this wouldn’t be a problem at all. But sex was intimidating. Imagine going your entire life not doing something but always having this built anticipation for it. It was terrifying.

Maybe that wasn’t the right word? You weren’t scared of having sex, you just weren’t ready… And it wasn’t that you didn’t do anything…You just didn’t do everything.

Your boyfriend was surprisingly understanding of your apprehensions. He was a bit older and much more experienced but he never pushed. He’d let you go at your own pace. Whenever you’d test your boundaries he’d welcomed it. The downside was dating someone as attractive as him lead to a lot of unexplainable pent up frustration.

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I See the Light - EPILOG


SUMMARY: When an opening for your favorite Disney Princess is posted backstage, you take your chances and audition. To your surprise, you got the part. But there was always a catch. Your Flynn Rider was none other than Bucky Barnes, the womanizer of the entire Disney cast. Will you two be able to play it off as a couple when there’s tension between you both?


AUTHOR’S NOTE: and it is finally OVER. thank you all SOOOO much for all of your support and love for this story. i didn’t think so many people would enjoy it and it warms my little cold heart lol. this story will always be very close to my heart. THANK YOU, AGAIN. I LOVE YOU ALL. ESPECIALLY THOSE WHO TOOK THEIR TIME TO REBLOG WITH THEIR COMMENTS. (you know who you are) 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕


“You may now kiss the bride!”

You smiled from ear to ear as your newest best friend’s kissed each other sweetly. You looked over the bride’s shoulder and watched Bucky smile and nod.

Steve and Peggy had finally decided to get married after years of being together and about a year and a half of being engaged. You were honored that Peggy asked you to be a bridesmaid and even happier that Steve chose Bucky to be his best man.

After the kiss, they faced their friends and family before walking back down the aisle. Like it was practiced, you all filed out and met up out front of the ceremony venue where the reception would take place in the large hall.

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❍ YOU LOST HER?! ( Derek Hale x reader)❍

Warnings : None


              “what do you mean you forgot?! ” you yelled in the phone. “Derek how could you? ” you rubbed your forehead.

“You are supposed to pick her up twenty minutes ago” you exhaled.

              He forgot, again,  to pick your daughter, Talia from her kindergarten. You let out a sigh, placing your phone on the couch. You wondered how upset your daughter would have been. Probably scared too. 

            Few minutes later your phone ringed. You saw the caller id, Derek.

             "Derek? “ you answered.


             "Derek? ”  no answer .

            “Derek, did you get her? ” something seemed off.

               "Derek!? “

               "she is not here “ 

               After hearing what he said, you felt your heart beat faster. "what do you mean  she is not there? ” you felt like your heart is gonna stop at any moment. 




              “Can’t you just sniff and get scent or something? ” Stiles suggested.

“Already tried, can’t ” Scott replied. Derek buried his face in his hands. You rocked yourself back and forth leaning against the will sitting on the floor. Allison  and Lydia trying to comfort you.

              How could someone comfort others if their baby is missing? Fresh tears rolled down over your tears stained cheeks. Its been five hours since Talia went missing and nobody knew where she was.

             The silence was broke down when you heard someone walk through the loft.Everyone’s head looked up to spot the Alpha twins.Derek growled glowing his eyes. Issac stood in front of you. 

              “We didn’t come here to fight ” Ethan was the one to speak first. 

              Aiden moved a little revealing your daughter, Talia. 

               "Mommy! “

               "Talia! ” you immediately picked her up hugging her so close.Everyone was taken aback.

                “We found her wandering and she was crying ” Ethan said. 

                  “I don’t know how to thank you” you blinked your tears, smiling at them grateful. 

                  “What if they actually kidnapped her? ” Stiles asked making the twins huff. 

                  “ We are not that cruel ” Aiden defended him and his brother.

                   ” I tried to walk home but I don’t know how and they helped me, mommy “ Talia looked at you. 

                   "Don’t try anything like that again, you had me and mommy worried ”  Derek said to your daughter. 

                    “Sowwy daddy” she said in a tiny voice. He smiled and gathered her in his arms. “I owe you one" 

                    “I…I seriously can’t thank you enough ” you kissed their cheeks shocking them and everyone.  

                  “Good bye, Angel ” Ethan smiled at Talia. “Bye ” she waved smiling and Aiden winked and they left. 

                  Maybe they are really changed.Whatever others are going to say, you don’t care, they brought your baby to you. You trust them

~ Quiet (10.06.17) | written for Keithtober, prompts by @meteorysh

Keith practiced his pouncing often. None of his caretakers ever told him off for it, after all. They often played along, actually, even faking having not seen him. Sneaking around and trying to remain quiet was an important part of his training—or so he had been told when he tried to practice his pouncing on Kolivan.

His favorite person to try sneaking up on was Antok, though. Mostly because of Antok’s tail.

When Antok cubsat, Keith never really strayed that far, even though Antok had a tendency to let him do his own thing. This was simply because Keith was always trying to catch hold of the tip of Antok’s tail. It twitched and shifted against the floor almost constantly, depending on what Antok was doing.  He was always too focused on catching Antok’s tail to care what Antok was doing, though.

Today, he quietly crept across the floor, keeping his eyes locked on the tip of Antok’s tail as it twitched back and forth against the floor. Antok was distracted by counting a group of cases holding provisions and making notes of the numbers on his datapad. Keith occasionally glanced up, just to make sure that Antok hadn’t noticed him as he made his way across the floor, taking care where he stepped.

He readied himself to pounce when Antok’s tail suddenly lifted out of his read and Antok glanced over his shoulder.

“Try again,” Antok said. “Your foot slid across the floor.”

Then, he moved onto the next set of crates, without paying Keith mind. Keith grinned and readied himself for another try.

anonymous asked:

I think you should write something about asking him to stop (about being shy during sex) bc all the blurbs are all perfect and the girl is shy but keep going,but what if she asked to stop? I've never read something like this AND we know that it's something that can happen

Harry’s booming voice filled the house as soon as the front door opened.  Hearing him walk through the front door singing was always music to my ears.  I loved it when he was in a good mood.  He stood in the doorway of the kitchen with his arms out like he was front stage on Broadway belting out the closing number.

I didn’t know what he was singing.  Something he’d recorded at the studio today was a good bet but I didn’t like to ask.  I knew he liked to keep his recording close to the vest.  

Whatever it was, it sure made him happy.

He finished the note out, his eyes opening to meet mine as his arms dropped to his sides.  He smiled the widest, brightest, happiest smile I’d ever seen as he walked towards the island.  He leaned down against it, looking up at me,

“Hello, Beautiful Girl.”

I smiled,

“Hello.  I take it the studio went well today.”

He raised his eyebrows,

“Well?  Yes, the studio went very very well.”  He said as he rounded the island and walked towards me, “I’m glad you’re here.”

I shrugged,

“Came over after class…thought you might be here but you weren’t so I hung around for a bit to see if you’d show up.”

I felt his fingers creep up onto my hips,

“Finished it.”  He said finally, his voice dripping with accomplishment.

I pushed my hands against his chest,

“All of it?  Or just one song?”

“All of it.  It’s done.”

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Curious Cas

Castiel x Reader

A/N: I don’t know how this will turn out considering it’s my first ever published smut and I probably won’t be taking in many smut requests considering it’s not really my thing, but feel free to send in basically anything else.

Request: What about a smutty cas x reader where cas is asking the reader about sex and all that stuff cuz he’s curious and it leads to them actaully fucking

Warnings: dry humping, smut.

Word count: 1006

Originally posted by castielimaginesboi

You glared at the television Castiel was so invested in, your eyebrows furrowing at seeing a very explicit sex scene unfold in front of the seraph. Choosing to ignore him, you moved over to the table and looked in the bag of fast food, noticing there was only one burger left. Sam and Dean must’ve dropped these off. “Where’s Sam and Dean?” You asked, continuing to towel dry your hair from the shower you had just come out of. 

 “I believe they are interrogating the latest victim,” He muttered, as if he wasn’t currently watching porn. Tilting his head, he inspected the screen closely before his eyes drifted to your back and slowly lowering down to your ass. 

You threw the damp towel on the edge of one of the chairs before picking up your cold burger and taking a bite out of it, turning around to face the angel, your eyes narrowed when you saw his eyes were pointed towards you. “What do you think you’re looking at?” You asked, picking up Sam’s laptop and joining him on the couch. 

The angel did nothing but turn his head towards the television once more, the silence between you not pleasant nor awkward. “Why does he continue to say such inappropriate words to her while making love?” Her murmured, tilting his head and leaning back into the cushions. 

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Yours, Unfaithfully [Chapter 9]

Originally posted by jackbumfan

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6   Chapter 7  Chapter 8

As your arms draped around his neck, he looked at you with an awe that always drove you crazy. You were still his girl, even after all this time. Nothing could make him happier than knowing your love hadn’t vanished despite his foolish decision to try and fight the way he felt.

He walked to two of you toward the sliding glass door, whispering in your ear just the way you remembered.

“I still love you too”.

You and Jaebum didn’t make it far before the need to reconnect with one another took over.

He set you onto the couch in the living room, immediately pulling you close for another heated kiss.

Soft moans of unadulterated bliss passed between you as your tongues moved together in unison. You pulled back, tugging his bottom lip to completely drive him wild and the soft groan that followed only proved your success.

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Hold On

Request: If there were ever to be a Tony Stark/Reader hall of fame, “Closer” should be number one. There’s a sad shortage of great Tony/Reader smut. Could you write more? xoxoxoxo thank you!

Tony Stark x Reader

Word Count: ~1650

Warnings: Fluff, Smut, a sprinkling of angst, unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving)

A/N: This one is for @crocodilerocker. Thank you so much for the request. This one came along after listening to the Hamilton soundtrack a million and one times, taking songs like “That Would Be Enough” and “Best of Wives and Best of Women” as inspiration. The title comes from this really beautiful Michael Buble song. I hope you this was everything you hoped for, and thank you for your support.

On another note: I’m providing the link for Closer should anyone in the mood.


The mission was rough, but it was a success. It also left you extremely tired so you decided, upon arriving back at the compound, that all you wanted was a hot shower and a good night’s sleep. That was hours ago.

You sit up in bed, blinking a few times as your eyes adjust to the darkness. You reach out to the space beside you, sighing when you find it empty. Though, it’s not only empty but untouched. You throw back the covers, the floor cold beneath your feet as you stand. You make your way from the room. You stop at the end of the hall, looking around but finding it completely empty.

You go to the elevator, pushing the down button and waiting for the doors to open. Once you’re in, you push the button for the basement level. When the doors open again, you continue down the long corridor.

You turn to the glass wall, sighing at the scene in front of you. You press your hand to the sensor, and when the light turns green, you push the door open.

Originally posted by akamatthewmurdock

“Tony, baby, how long have you been down here?”

“What time is it?”

“It’s after 5.”

“What time did we get back?”

“Almost 1.”

“Then it’s been about four hours.”

You move toward him, wrapping your arms around his neck from behind and leaning into him.

“I’m almost done.”

“It can wait.” You turn your head so that your lips are at his ear, whispering, “Come to bed.”

He shakes his head, continuing on with his work, “I have to finish this.”

You look down at the device in his hands, “What is that?”

“It’s the reactor.”

You pull away from him, turning his chair around, “What’s going on, Tony?”

He sighs, taking your hands and pulling you into his lap, “I didn’t want to tell you until I figured out the problem and how to fix it.”

“What happened?”

“The suit started to fail in the middle of the fight. It didn’t go down completely, but…”

You take a deep breath, carding your fingers through his hair and resting your hand against the back of his neck, “Did you fix it?”


“Then leave it for now and come to bed. Please?”

He seems reluctant, but he agrees. You smile as you stand up from his lap, keeping his hands in yours so that you can pull him to his feet. The lights turn off behind as you leave the lab. He holds you close for the duration of the elevator ride back to your floor.

Once you’ve returned to your bedroom and you attempt to climb back into bed, he tightens his grip on your hand and pulls you back to him.

“You know how much I love you, right?”


“Because I do. At first, I was just going to take the reactor to the lab and leave it. I was going to come to bed. I just couldn’t.”

You place your hands on his chest. His own hands move up and down along your upper arms.

“You shouldn’t have had to come looking for me.”

“You act like it was such a difficult search.” You chuckle, “I knew something was wrong. I just didn’t expect you to still be down there when I got up.”

“Neither did I.” he puts his hand against your cheek, his thumb moving lightly over your skin, “I’m sorry, baby.”

“It’s okay.”

Originally posted by relationshipaims

His thumb finds your lips in the dark, providing the direction his own lips need to press against yours. You fist your hands in his shirt, pulling him closer. He stoops down a bit to wrap his hands around your thighs, effortlessly lifting you from the floor. Your legs wrap around his waist; he holds you tight to him as he climbs onto the bed.

Your feet fall to the mattress as he settles you on your back with his body between your parted thighs. His hips grind slowly against yours, his hardening length pressing to your clothed core through his jeans. The t-shirt you’d worn to bed is like a straightjacket as you arch up and into his touch, his hand brushing over the hard peak of your breast. His name is little more than a breath as it passes between your lips.

He smirks down at you, obviously pleased by your reaction but still wanting more. His touch moves beneath the shirt. The warmth of his skin against yours as he pushes the fabric up is almost too much for your unexpectedly sensitive body. In your desperation to further the contact, you grab at the hem of you shirt, yanking it over your head in one swift motion and tossing it away.

He groans in appreciation, his lips descending to your neck, moving over your pulse point. By now, you’re certain he can feel the rushing of your blood beneath your skin. The movement of his hips, once gentle, becomes rougher as he presses down harder.

“Tony… please…”

You don’t mean to beg, but the aching between your thighs is becoming too much. He chuckles softly, leaning away from you and sitting back on his heels. You watch the muscles in his arms and chest flex as he removes his shirt. Your eyes follow his hands to the buckle of his belt. You bite your lip as he pulls the leather from his belt loops. You moan softly as he pops the button and pulls down the zipper. Your whining continues as he stands and pushes his jeans down, kicking them away.

His hands slide up your calves, over your knees, your thighs, and up to your hips. His fingers curl around the elastic of your panties. Your hips rise as he pulls the fabric away from your body and tosses it to the floor. He kisses up your inner thigh but skips your waiting core, eliciting a frustrated groan from you.

“Patience, baby girl.” He chuckles, his voice rough as he whispers into your ear.

You gasp as his fingertips tease your slick entrance, his palm pressing against your clit but not providing nearly enough pressure to relieve the tension coursing through your body. Then his fingers are inside of you, moving slowly back and forth, the tips of them grazing your g-spot again and again. He kisses down your body inch-by-inch before his tongue licks out against the most sensitive spot at the apex of your thighs.

You tread your fingers through his hair, fisting them in the short length of it. He groans against you as you pull it, your hips rolling into his ministrations.

“Tony,” you whimper, “I need you, baby. Please.”

Prompted by your demands, his body moves to hover over yours again. His fingers continue on in their sweet movements as you grab at his boxers, working them down his body. He chuckles softly, his forehead falling to your shoulder for a moment before he finally decides to help. Once they’re gone, his lips come down against yours.

In one swift movement, he’s deep inside of you, his hips flush to yours. You clutch to his body as he begins to rock his hips back and forth. You moan against his skin, your breath coming in short gasps, each one punctuated by each forward thrust. When his pace falters for a moment, you take the opportunity to push him to his back.

Now free to set your own pace, you move slow at first. You smile, reveling in the feeling of his fingertips digging into your hips. Your nails dig into his chest as the knot once wound tight inside of you begins to come apart. You lean into him, pressing your lips to his as his fingers thread into your hair. You roll your hips steadily. The new angle allows you to feel the tension building in his muscles.

You push yourself back up, determined now to bring him to his finish first, but then his thumb is working your clit in small, fast circles. He tenses beneath you, coming undone as you follow barely a minute later.

You take a deep breath as you collapse against him, your ear pressing against his chest over his rapidly beating heart.

“Tony?” you whisper into the darkness.

He hums in response, finding your hand in the darkness and lacing his fingers with yours.

Originally posted by pinepizzalove

“You know, there was a time when that reactor was your heart. There was a time when it failing meant you could die.”

“I know.” He raises your hand to his lip, kissing your knuckles softly.

“You should have told me what happened sooner.”

“I know.”

“I’m terrified of losing you, but that’s why I deserve to know when things like that happen.”


You sit up, putting your hands on either side of his head, “You shouldn’t have to deal those things alone.”


You press a hand over his mouth, “I love you, Tony Stark, but I will kill you myself if you hide anything else like this from me.”

He smiles beneath your hand, kissing your palm. His next words are muffled but clear all at the same time.

“I love you too.” His arms wrap around your waist, and he flips you to your back, “No more secrets.”

You smile, putting your hand to his cheek and guiding his lips down to yours. He kisses your forehead before he pulls away, pushing off the bed and heading for the bathroom. You lay there, closing your eyes to the sound of the shower.

“Hey!” he calls.

You open one eye and look over at him, “What?”

“Ya comin’?”

You giggle, getting up and running toward him. He catches you as you jump into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you into the shower.

Wetting/Wetting scenario Details

Small details to remember or add for writing if you want to bring in some more imagery during a wetting scene :)

Couldn’t Hold It Wetting: 

- Often the legs will go weak, and if not trembling possibly sinking to knees or even shifting feet around slightly to keep control of stance. 

- If legs weaken they may try to hold unto something to stand, possibly leaning against a wall or grabbing unto a table or person 

- Glances down at/away from their accident, often back and forth and quickly 

- Gasps or sighs of surprise from sudden wetting, possible inward groans*  

- A total loss of control usually has the urine jet out of them all at once and the patch will spread quickly and noisily 

Loud hissing and pattering unto the floor  

- World will slow for them and chances are they’ll remain stuck until their accident is over. Very hard to move while wetting, especially during a full loss of control

- Clumsy and weak before/after an accident. Character may struggle walking or speaking. A lot of trembling and fumbling around.  

- Wherever the urine goes is where it goes. It’s a full loss of control, there is no set area for urine to spread. It’s everywhere.

- Forceful and fast wetting will splatter more

- Once the bladder has less pressure the wetting may start to slow down and be less forceful 

- Shoulders and breathing start to relax over time*  

- Loss for words until accident is almost over/or over with the exception of soft uneven breathing 

Fear Wetting: 

- Skin growing pale/clammy

- Trembling legs/hands (Or completely still hands - palms get very sweaty) 

- Stuttering and voice quiet if they talk  

- Buckling knees* 

- Widened unblinking eyes, possible tears starting to form (Alternatively, eyes clenched shut) If tears happen they’ll likely roll down the cheeks very gently. No real sobbing or bawling would tend to occur until they’re out of their frozen state. 

-Quivering bottom lip  

- Frozen body 

- Patch on the clothing spreads in a slow creep rather than all at once like in a sudden accidental wetting 

- Light pattering sound from the slow wetting, chances are it’ll continue as they remain still for a while 

- Swallowing (throat feels closed and like something is stuck in it) and sniffling 

- Pitiful glances at feared thing or towards someone else  

- Possibly backing/turning away from feared thing, shoes squishing or splashing in puddle, shoulders stiff and chest feeling tight 

- How afraid they are will determine how much attention goes to the wetting, the more afraid the less they’ll notice it 

Laughter Wetting: 

- Uneven and forceful spurts with laughter. Think of putting your thumb on a strong hose that’s turned on and sliding it on and off. 

- Struggling to breathe and throat might go squeaky and voice can go lighter or higher pitched. 

- Second most likely to notice and mention the wetting while it occurs, next to the half-finished stage of the accidental wetting person. May or may not be amused by it 

-  If amused by the wetting, they’ll laugh more and wet faster. If unhappy about wetting, they may try to stop laughing and stop wetting. Both will be hard to control.

- Laughter may or may not stop before wetting finishes.

- Gasping for air and trying to grab unto something because an amused person may buckle into themselves or twist towards the side. If standing and buckling inwards often hands go up toward chest or face and go knees forward 

- Pretty mobile and might move their feet slightly around 

- Tears streaming down their face. If blushing occurs it likely occurs firstly because of the struggle to breathe while laughing

-  Shaking shoulders from laughter 

- Potentially struggling to stop in between laughter which makes them laugh more. 

- Urine pattering will be randomly heard and forceful. Likely to splash everywhere. 

- Skin will be warm all over mainly in the face, hands, arms, and chest (and of course their legs  (  ͡°  ͜ʖ  ͡°) ) 

Embarrassment Signs: 

- Blushing and warmth in face, ears, neck, and possibly arms and hands

- Can also have a thin layer of sweat and clamminess in arms and hands. If cold areas and warm areas occur at the same time, it can make the person feel a little sick

- Feeling of wetting is the strongest thing they’ll feel. From the bladder pressure to each small stream that courses down 

- Covering the mouth/face often. 

- Avoiding eye contact/possibly blinking back tears  

- Swallowing and struggling to speak either to defend themselves or apologize 

- May try to hide their accident even if not hide-able

- May smile or laugh nervously

- If very ashamed lips may tighten into a straight line and the lower lip may tremble  

- Tucking into oneself, hands cross unto arms and head facing the floor 

-  May try to get away from others and make self alone 

- May fidget and pick at their clothing 

- May stammer when speaking 

* General Details:  

- Shiny fabric where the wetting starts 

- Hissing and small streams rolling down the calf or streaming between wherever legs are apart

- Eyes may flutter closed with a long sigh of relief. Strong relief can have the head tilt back 

- Starting can send a chill up their spine with a gasp  

- Urine is warm and can radiate heat. You can feel the heat from fresh urine a few centimeters to an inch away. The more embarrassed, the warmer it will feel for the person experiencing it. 

- Hands often are doing something. Hands and position expresses a lot about what a character is feeling. Frustrated hands may clench or go toward pockets, laughter hands can go all over the place, embarrassed hands go for the face or arms, and scared hands will tremble wherever they go

- Breathing changes depending on relief (the more relieved the slower and more air will enter the lungs. Unless they’re afraid then it will often remain unsteady or fast) 

- Low groans can have an almost purring/growling effect to their voice, mainly in males 

- May have a dreary expression when finished 

- Bladder is most sensitive when desperate, any light touch will greatly affect the characters control. 

- Urine spreads for males wherever the tip of their junk lays. This means the patch could start at the center of their crotch between their legs, up toward the button of their pants, or starting in the upper thigh of either leg. Regardless, it’ll mainly show up on their front. For girls instead of the front, it will start in the middle between and in their inner legs. The patch usually shows on the front from where the urine fills their panties and a lot will show on the seat of their clothes   

- Urine varies in color from clear to gold. Consider what the character drank a lot of. If very hydrated with water, it’s more realistic if their urine is a lighter color.

- When the soaked fabric gets cold, for girls it will still remain a little warm in their upper inner thighs towards where it started. When the fabric gets cold it can feel clammy, itchy, and little more squishy if thick fabric and clingy if loose/thin fabric.

- Different movement can cause urine to still drip from soaked clothing.



‘You’re in trouble now.’ @fuckyeahalexhoghandersen

Originally posted by bangmybox

The background music of the video game played on the television. You didn’t take your eyes off the screen. Not playing multi-player with Alex. He was ruthless and always giddy about it.

You heard the shot seconds before your character fell dead on the screen. “Dammit, Alex! We’re on the same team!” You turn to him and shove his shoulder. He simply smiles and shrugs.

Your character respawns. Struck with an idea, you arch your back in a stretch. The tee shirt strains against your breasts. His gaze flicks from the TV to your chest. Your hard nipples clearly advertising that you’re not wearing a bra. Acting oblivious, you slip to your knees on the floor, leaning over the coffee table. You sway your ass back and forth.

Alex shifts on the couch behind you, moving closer. You hear the shot, bringing your full attention to the TV. Only it’s not your character dead. It’s Alex’s. You gasp in shock then giggle.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you? Distracting me with those perfect tits and this beautiful ass.” His hand cracks against your ass, making you squeal in surprise. “Oh, you’re in trouble now.”

“You’re leaving the game?”

“I found something better to play with.” His body presses against your back, the hard nudge of his cock pushing against your ass. “Now, don’t die, baby.” You whimper as he reaches under your for zipper.


#127 Nick Robinson – Morning Visit*


You are still in bed when you hear the door to your apartment open. It’s probably your mum or Nick, coming for a visit, so you just turn around and bury your face into your pillows. When you hear steps coming up to your bedroom, you know that it’s Nick. Your mum would never come up without telling you, she would just start cleaning around your apartment, as she likes to do.

“(Y/N)?” You hear Nick whispering as he approaches your bed.

“Not here.” You mumble and pull your bed sheet over your head.

“So who are you, laying in the bed of my gorgeous girlfriend?” Nick asks and sits down on the edge of your bed.

“Someone.” You mumble against your pillow and roll onto your stomach. You’re only wearing a shirt of his and smile at him with closed eyes.

“You’re cute.” He says and stands up again. “I brought breakfast, so come if you want some.” Nick says and is about to leave but you take his hand and pull him back.

“Don’t you want some?” You ask him and sit up. He chuckles and then bites his lip as he sits down on your bed. You kneel up and let him sit in the middle of your bed, leaned against the headboard. “How was your morning?” You casually ask as you start to undress him.

“Good, the thought of you brought me out of bed.” He smirks as you take his shirt off.

“And then?” You ask and unbuckle is pants.

“Than I thought, I shouldn’t visit you so early in the morning without food.” He says and you nod understanding. You pull his jeans and his boxers down to his ankles and take your panties off. When you lower yourself down on his already hard dick, he takes your shirt off. You start to move up and down on his dick as he holds onto your ass cheeks. You attach your lips to Nick and start to make out. You move your hips forwards and backwards, holding onto his shoulder with one hand and stabilising yourself with your other hand pressed against the wall. Nick leans his head back and shuts his eyes, taking deep breaths.

“Fuck I should visit you more in the morning.” He moans and you chuckle before you attach your lips to his neck. You take your hand away from him and put your hair behind you. Nick’s hands wander up your skin, over your hips, over your sides and stop at your waist. He holds you tightly as you  start to ride him faster. You moan with every move you make and feel yourself coming closer to your climax.

“Nick.” You gasp and start to bounce faster up and down while moving your hips back and forth. You press your palms against the wall and your boobs start to bounce up and down in front of Nick’s face. He slaps your ass before cupping your boobs.

“Ahh.” You moan and feel him cum in you. Seconds later you hit your orgasm as well and ride it out before you climb off him and pick up the shirt off the floor.

“So…” You gasp. “What’s for breakfast?” You ask and leave him alone in your rom.

“You walk funny!” Nick exclaims after you and you bite your lip as you shake your head at him. You go downstairs and see that he has prepared your favourite breakfast for you.

“Thank you!” You yell up and sit down on a chair.

“Everything for you, my love.” He yells back, making you laugh.


The Ecstasy of Words

A/N: After I Love You As, which I put up a while ago, I had a request to do something similar, so I decided to do that. Literature and sex is a great combination, imho. @coveofmemories @sweetg @sexualemobitch @jamiemelyn


As Spencer sat in his armchair reading from Delta of Venus by Anais Nin, you twirled around the kitchen making dinner. Every so often, he saw you twitch and squirm, a blush coming to your face, and he had a feeling he knew why. “Hey, Y/N, why so squirmy?”

“Super horny,” you replied. “Like out of nowhere.”

“As your loving and dutiful husband, I would more than happy to help you with that,” he smiled, putting his finger in between the pages of the book to keep his place.

You spun around to look at him, your cheeks flush with need. “I’m cooking dinner and you’re reading. Aren’t you hungry?”

“I could wait to eat, and as for the book, I think I have an idea.”

A few moments passed before you turned the knobs down on the stove and ran over to the armchair, climbing into his lap and grinding against him. Keeping the book in hand, he wrapped his arms around your waist and carried you inside. “What’s your idea?” you asked, leaving love bites up his collarbone and around his neck as he lowered you to the bed. 

The sheets cradled you as you hit the mattress and Spencer kissed down your body as you pulled your shirt off and over your head. “I’m going to read from the book and you’re going to touch yourself. When I tell you to stop, you stop.” There was no doubt a wicked smile upon his face because you couldn’t stop staring at him wide eyed, while remaining a bit hesitant. “We don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable, but I think it could be fun.”

“I do too,” you responded softly. He found it funny that his wife of three years was embarrassingly looking anywhere but directly at him. “It’s just that we’ve never done that before and it somehow seems even more intimate than sex.”

“That’s because it is,” he whispered, placing the book down at the side of your head and slipping one of his hands down your pajama pants and underneath the delicate lace you wore. “Already wet, I see.” You whimpered against his mouth when he dipped his finger inside you. “Up for it?”

Your response was to guide your tongue up underneath his chin as he removed the rest of your clothes and picked up the book to return to the chair opposite your bed. “Open your legs,” he said confidently, sounding so like and yet so opposite the man you loved. “I want to watch for a few minutes before I start reading.”

Across the room, he took a deep breath and watched as you slowly spread your legs and began to touch yourself. Delicate fingers slid over soft skin as you reached between your folds and moved your finger back and forth across the sensitive bud. When a whimper escaped you, he started to speak. Perks of having an eidetic memory - he could keep his eyes trained on your every move as the words fell from his lips. “They fell on this, the three bodies in accord, moving against each other to feel breast against breast and belly against belly. They ceased to be three bodies. They became all mouths and fingers and tongues and senses. Their mouths sought another mouth, a nipple, a clitoris. They lay entangled, moving very slowly…”

Instead of staying where he was, he floated along the floor as the words continued to flow, and even though he was supposed to be watching you, he couldn’t help but occasionally ghost his hands over your skin. His eyes could not be torn away from the glistening center that was coating your finger in arousal that he so badly wanted to taste. The more he spoke, the quicker and more insistent your movements were. “They kissed until the kissing became a torture and the body grew restless. Their hands always found yielding flesh, an opening. The fur they lay on gave off an animal odor, which mingled with the odors of sex…They tried to come in unison, but Elena came first, falling in a heap, detached from Leila’s hand, struck down by the violence of her orgasm, Leila fell beside her, offering her sex to Elena’s mouth.”

Although he was speaking, the only thing he could hear were the sweet sounds of your whimpers and cries. He could tell you were close, but you seemed to be open to him giving the orders. “Stop. Remove your hand.”

“Ah,” you cried, shakily moving your hand away from your center. “Why.” It wasn’t even a question - just a breathless word falling from your mouth as a tear fell onto the pillow beneath your head. 

He didn’t respond, but kept speaking, hovering his lips over your mouth. “As Elena’s pleasure grew fainter, rolling away, dying off, she gave Leila her tongue, flicking in the sex’s mouth until Leila contracted and moaned. She bit into Leila’s tender flesh. In the paroxysm of her pleasure, Leila did not feel the teeth buried there.“ Focusing in on your heavy breathing and the desperate twitches of your hand, silently begging to return to your core, he ran his hands over himself; he was blisteringly hard. He would be the one to bring about your release. 

As he finished speaking, he pulled your bottom toward his mouth and knelt on the floor, pressing a firm kiss to your inner thigh. “Please.” It was barely a whisper, but he heard it.

“Patience, my love.” With a sharp intake of breath, he focused on your center and inched ever closer with his lips. The second his lips met yours your sex lifted toward his mouth. Before you could beg again, he flattened his tongue against you and licked upward, taking in the uniqueness of your taste. His wife. The woman he loved. It didn’t take long for you to come to the brink of ecstasy again, and your strangled cries rang through his ears as he pursued his lips against your clit and provided the suction you needed. 

You cried his name and lifted your hips to his mouth, allowing him to devour you and kiss his way back up to your mouth so you could taste yourself. “Mmmmyyy god,” you breathed, as he entered your vision with your arousal staining his lips. “That was…erotic.”

“I thought so,” he chuckled against your flushed skin. “Feel better?”

“Much. We need to do more of that.” 

“Just say the word.”

i can hear the bells: round one

pairings: tom x (plus sized) female reader

word count: 2,743

warnings: there’s some swearing, and also, just an fyi i took out parts of the dialogue that i found a little dicey, since this IS a piece that takes place in the 1960s and i don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable or offended. for example, penny says some pretty ditzy and ignorant comments about POC so i just took them out all together and changed the dialogue a little bit. also, in the movie, seaweed calls link “cracker boy” but i changed it so that it is now “white boy.” i hope that’s okay!

author’s note: hi guys! this is finally part one of my link!tom fic. it’s based off of the song “i can hear the bells” from hairspray, but the the plot is pretty different from the movie, EXCEPT for this part (it’s almost entirely accurate with just some small adjustments) and this fic series will probably be three parts? idk wHO KNOWS. also this fic is SPECIFICALLY for all my curvy and plus sized girl in the fandom because we should be supporting every single body type; sometimes i feel like fics can be really centered around the stereotypically “pretty” or skinny girls, but i wanna change that. remember that every body is a beautiful body:) enjoy xoxo.

Originally posted by effortless-romance

okay but imagine tom winking at you like this bye

Round one: “He asks me on a date”

You sit in class with your chin rested on your hand, drumming your fingers on the desk. You look down at the huge block of tiny, black text in your book, the words looking like a big blob in front of your tired eyes. You can hear the sound of chalk screeching against the board as Mr. Flak muttered on and on about whatever you were supposed to be learning about. You sigh in boredom, wishing that you could be anywhere than stuck in history class, learning about old people that had absolutely no relevance in your life. You would pay attention, if Mr. Flak didn’t have the most monotone voice with no emotion. Amber’s annoyingly peppy voice screeching above the quiet whispers of the other students in the class also didn’t help. You rolled your eyes in annoyance; you didn’t care what she was saying, and at this point you were too tired to listen. You feel your eyelids going heavy, your blinking getting slower and slower. You feel yourself drifting off into a deep sleep when suddenly, you hear a hand slam on a desk. You open your eyes, blinking as if to rid the fatigue that was still very much present on your face (and to cover up the fact that you were completely snoozing off in class) and look up at Mr. Flak, his nostrils flared and his eyes filled with aggravation.

“Excuse me? What’s going on back there?” everyone turns around and looks at Amber in the corner, her eyes wide open and filled with shock. She then glances over in your direction and smirks, picking up a folded piece of paper and opening it, revealing a poorly drawn picture of your history teacher with saggy breasts.

“Y/N that’s horrible!” she exclaims, with an evil mischief in her eyes, “Mr. Flak does not have breasts!” giggles erupt among your classmates and you turn your head back towards Mr. Flak, his face red with rage.

“No! I would never-” you try to protest over the hollers of the other students. Amber just sits in the back of the room with a smile on her face and laughing under her breath with all her other obnoxiously perfect and pretty friends, clearly very content with herself. Mr. Flak says nothing, his face stone cold, as he rips out a pink detention slip from his big stack of them, scribbling down your name. You shrug and pick up all your books; you weren’t learning anything in this class anyways, so did it really matter in the long run? At least in detention you could do what you were truly passionate about: moving and grooving with Seaweed and the rest of his friends. You walk towards the front of the room and pull the slip out of your teacher’s hand, refusing to make eye contact with him; you couldn’t make this more awkward than it already was. You keep your eyes on the ground as you try to scurry out of the classroom as fast as you can. Suddenly, you hear the sound of an old chair squeaking against the linoleum floor. You turn around and see none other than Thomas Holland standing up in the back of the room, as everyone looks at him, including you, in utter confusion. His chocolate brown eyes stare at you with warmth and empathy; it felt like he was trying to apologize to you through his soft gaze. You felt your heart soar and your cheeks growing a light pink. “Oh and Mr. Holland?” Mr. Flak questions, “perhaps you’d like to share with the rest of the class Patrick Henry’s immortal last words?” Tom pulls his eyes away from you and looks at him directly in the eyes.

With a stone cold expression and a confident voice, almost triumphantly, he answers, “kiss my ass”, his voice rising at the end as if he was actually answering the question. Amber’s perfectly glossed lips form an o shape as she gasps and the rest of the class laughs quietly. You put a hand over your mouth, trying to prevent yourself from snorting and bursting out into laughter. He sends you a crooked smile, and subtly winks at you as Mr. Flak shakes his head and pulls out yet another detention slip. Tom shuts his textbook and jumps out of his seat, rushing towards the door with a skip in his step, snatching the slip out of your teacher’s hand as he makes his way towards you. You try to keep your cool but your grin refuses to fade.

“Ready to get out of here?” he asks chirpily with a perfect smile with his pearly whites shining as he nods towards the hallway.

“Ye-yea” you attempt to speak, but you can barely form words; you were stunned. “M’lady,” he says as he bows and offers his hand to you. You swoon internally and you feel like you’re going to drop dead right on the spot. You hesitantly grasp his hand, his fingers wrapping around yours as he pulls you out of the classroom, nearly pulling your arm out of its socket, leaving Amber fuming with her eyebrows furrowed and Mr. Flak rolling his eyes and muttering, “they don’t pay me enough for this”.

You sprint down the hallway, your laughter echoing against the lockers as Tom tugs at your arm. Your heart beats faster and faster with every stride you take; not just because you didn’t run, but the fact that Tom Holland said “kiss my ass” in front of your entire history class to go to detention with you. Tom was a little more physically inclined than you so he kept running ahead of you, but you tried to keep up, huffing and puffing. You eventually stop, releasing your hand, slippery with sweat, from his as your breathing grows heavy and sweat pouring down your forehead. “Slo-slow down, there,” you struggle to say as you lean over and put your hands on your knees, trying to steady your breathing. He stops running and turns back to you, his beautiful grin refusing to fade.

“Sorry,” he says happily, “I got a little excited.”

“It’s-it’s okay,” you look up at him with a weak smile, “let’s just go a little slower.” He nods understandingly. After a few moments, you take one deep breath and stand up, readjusting your many books in your arm that threatened to slip out of your hands and leaned them against your hip as you both begin to walk down the hallway.

“Need some help there, little darlin’?” he asks nonchalantly as he notices you struggling.

“N-no,” you stutter, “I’m alrig-”. Before you can finish saying anything, he scoops your many books into his arms like they weighed nothing. You say nothing as you both continue walking, not running, in a comfortable silence; since every class was in session, the hallway wasn’t filled with the usual chatter of girls gossiping or the shuffling of papers. It was only you and Tom, your arms casually brushing against each other. You finally spot the room up ahead, and you could almost feel the energy through the walls. you nearly sprint over to the door, your body jittering with excitement. You stand at front of the door and look over at Tom. He grasps the knob and opens it, the movement of all the students dancing fueling your desire to break out your moves. “After you,” he says with a smile, as he holds the door open for you. You send me a grin of gratitude and step inside, your body immediately relaxing to the casual environment.

“You know,” you said turning to him, his ears perking up as he turns to look at you, “you didn’t have to do that, Tom.”

He raises an eyebrow as he sets your textbooks down on an empty desk, smirking like the cocky guy he is, “carrying your textbooks isn’t much of a challenge for me, doll. It’s what gentlemen do.” You turn away for a moment, trying to prevent the redness from appearing on your cheeks.

You roll your eyes. “Well thanks for that too, but that’s not what I meant,” you say as his eyes dart from person to person, absorbing all of their new dance moves that he’s never seen before.

“Hey, it’s no prob,” he says as he rests his arm on your shoulder, “besides, it looks like a cool scene down here.”

“Right,” you say under your breath as one of your friends wraps their arms around you and attacks you with a big hug.

He throws his detention pass on the table as his eyes move towards a girl in a blue and green floral dress, doing some funky move with her hips. “Hey cool,” he says, observing the way that her arms rolled back and how her feet slide back and forth on the floor. You watch as he attempts to mimic her moves, but with a little too much enthusiasm. You try to stifle a laugh, but you just couldn’t help it; he looked like such a nerd, his brown, slicked back hair bopping against his forehead, his arms flailing around like a baby bird trying to fly and his mouth opening to reveal the biggest smile you’ve ever seen. The girl gives him a very strange look, as does everyone else in the room and they all go silent. He pulls down his blue sweater and pushes his hair back, trying to keep his suave attitude. “Not quite, uh?” he asks, the bell ringing at that exact moment. “Aw damn,” he exclaims, “I was getting it,” but everyone else in the room knew that he really wasn’t.

“Listen man, you ain’t gotta stop now, ” Seaweed proposes as he walks over to you and Tom, Penny trailing close behind, “my mom’s having a platter party tonight. Y’all wanna come check it out?” Tom looks down at his watch with a confused expression.  

“Now?” you ask.

“Would you mind if I too checked it out? I’ve never been to North Avenue before,” Penny pipes in, staring at Seaweed lovingly; you could tell from her gaze that your best friend was definitely in deep.

“Uh well, would it be safe? For you know, for us?” Tom asks uneasily.

Seaweed rolls his eyes and slaps Tom’s arm playfully. “Calm down, white boy. It’s cool.”

‘Wow this feels,” Penny begins to say as she walks towards you.

“So hip!” you squeal excitedly as you and Penny grab hands and do a little happy dance.

*insert seaweed’s epic and iconic dance number here*

You all giddily leave school and get on a bus to the party. Even as you started getting on the bus, Amber called after Tom desperately screaming “Tom! Tom Holland!”, but he just ignored her completely and continued to move along with Seaweed, much to your surprise. You guys never stop popping or locking on your way there and it seems as if you had no cares in the world, and that was all due to Seaweed; you couldn’t help but want to get up and dance with him. He was one of the best people to watch and he was truly your biggest inspirations; even his sister, Little Inez, was dancing prodigy. Seaweed engaged his audience so well that you could tell that he loved what he was doing, and his passion really came across in his dancing, which was something that you always wanted to portray in your motions; he even made Penny faint. Multiple times. If it wasn’t obvious before, her infatuation with him was definitely apparent now. Not to mention, this is one of the few times that you see Tom letting loose, his one, tiny little curl drooping onto his forehead. He looked so carefree; he didn’t seem to care about how he looked for a camera, or anybody else for that matter, and it only made your crush on him grow more and more. You finally arrive at the party, and Seaweed grabs your hand squeezing it reassuringly, and you smile gratefully as Tom and Amber follow closely behind; you felt so lucky that you had such a funny, but supportive friend to make sure that you weren’t feeling uneasy. You enter “Maybelle’s Motor Mouth Records” and you can’t believe your eyes; it’s like you’re in a whole new world filled with liveliness and energy. There are couples everywhere, dancing together with their arms wrapped around each other’s necks, guys dipping girls and giving them little pecks on the lips, smiling, laughing. They move so naturally and you felt mesmerized by all of them; if only you could move like that. Maybelle, Seaweed’s mother, is wearing a leopard print dress and she’s shimming while also belting out a jazzy song (yet another iconic musical number); you see where he got his groove from. There are various records hanging all over the store and you run your hand along some of the dusty disks as you walk towards the dance floor. You start moving your hips to the catchy tune, and you notice, out of the corner of your eye, Tom staring at you, a small smirk tugging at the edge of his lips. You make eye contact with Maybelle and she looks back at you, pleasantly surprised.

“Well,” she says as she walks over to your group, “who do we got here?”

Seaweed puts his arm around you. “Mama, I want you to meet my new friends.” He gestures over to your little group and says, “this is Tom,” who clinks his mouth and gives her his famous wink. “Y/N Y/L/N,” you give her an enthusiastic wave, trying to contain yourself, even though you were nearly bursting with excitement. “And this young lady right here,” he says while takes his arm off of you and touches Penny’s arm softly, “is Penny Pingleton.” She looks at Penny, then her son with a suspicious look on her face and raised eyebrows.

“I’mverypleasedtobehere,” she says quickly, the nervousness apparent in her voice. She gives you all a warm smile, but before she can say anything, she walks away, hollering “I told you, put that record down or you’re gonna scratch it.” You shrug and continue to watch the dancers. Tom starts snapping his fingers and moves in front of you.

“Shall we dance?” he offers, presenting you his hand. You grab it gratefully and he whisks you into the middle of the room. You both sway back and forth, never breaking eye contact with each other. You guys moved well together and nothing was forced; it was like you guys were naturally in sync.

“Tom,” you say over the loud music, “aren’t you going to get into awful trouble for this?” He moves closer to you, and you can smell his mint breath even more clearly now.

“I’m not planning on telling my dad,” he snickers as you continue to get closer and closer together as you move your feet to the beat in a circular motion.

“No,” you tell him as concern grows in your eyes, “I mean in trouble with someone else.”

He shrugs. “Maybe. But maybe, it’s worth it.” He looks down at your hands and takes them into his, rubbing circles on your hands soothingly. He pauses for a moment, and leans into your ear and whispers, the smile apparent on his face, “I think that knowing you is a pretty big adventure, and I’m ready to explore it all. With you.”

You’re too flustered to say anything so you pull away from him and continue to dance, shuffling your feet a little bit. “Wh-what do you m-mean?” you stutter quietly.

“Y/N,” he asks softly as he lifts your chin up, forcing you to stare into his eyes, “go on a date with me.”

You stop moving and let go of his hands. You look at him with utter shock and confusion. “Ar-are you serious?” you ask him and he shakes his head yes, “if Amber set you up to this-”

“No, no,” he assures you, his hand immediately reaching for your cheek, “it has nothing to do with Amber. I like you. A lot. And I want to take you out. Just say yes. Please.” You look at him skeptically, but you see the desperation behind his eyes, and you know that he’s telling the truth.



Originally posted by what-if-we-never-met

In case you missed the previous parts…

Nessian Part Five by L.J. LaFleur 

I slammed the door behind me, as if a piece of wood would keep the monsters out. My spine rested against the smooth surface, stiffening as I stared at the cedar colored boots Cassian gave me. The lump in my throat enlarged, my vision blurring—I’m a fool.  

The burning sensation in my feet flourished, climbing up my legs until I moved. Pacing, I needed a release. Back and forth, until the flooring beneath me discolored with scratches. The more I thought of what happened during training, of admitting that even just looking at him killed me–it shook me to my core.

I’ve told him enough, I’ve let him in enough–why bother letting him in further? When the only outcome of letting him in would crush my soul? Heart? And then Mor—what does she want? To be with Cassian? Azriel? Both? My heart sunk as I bit my lower lip, endless questions twisted within.  

The window to the right of the bed was large enough for me to fit through. A prettily decorated prison, that’s all this place is, all it’s become. I unhooked the sterling silver latch, and pushed forward. I needed to escape. I tilted my body out of the window, giant bushes lined the bottom. I peered closer, my vision adjusting as it magnified every leaf, every sparkling-white jasmine petal. Even towards the tiny insects that trailed around the stems.

“What am I?” I shakily whispered to myself.  

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Pairing: Okieriete Onaodowan x unnamed Female reader
Words: 1885
Rating: Mature (It’s smut y’all)
Warning (not really): This is my first smut ever! You can probably tell by the style of writing that I’m more acquainted with writing in a 3rd person narrative instead of the 2nd person, which isn’t usually the best for smut. But I tried my best and I will continue to try and improve my smut writing skills. Besides that, I am more familiar with writing angst and fluff. Appreciate Oak more!I’m open to requests since it’s summer where I live, so go and send them in! Enjoy! 

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Lightning Bolt Soulmate! Barry Allen x Reader Part Three

Fandom: The Flash

Characters: Barry Allen, Reader, Caitlin Snow, Cisco Ramon, OC

Word Count: 771

Warnings: Barry Allen being a little creep in a sort of good way? idk just read it and find out

A/N: So this is essentially Part Two from Barry’s POV with a little more information added to it and what Barry does afterwards. This is probably so shitty but I wanted to get it out because it was taking way too long. Enjoy!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Originally posted by horcrx-hunter


I was out running through the city, when I heard the shouts. I couldn’t make out the words, but the owner of the voice was obviously a woman. Automatically assuming the worst, I sped off in the direction of the sound. Instead of finding a mugger attacking an unsuspecting woman in an alleyway, I found a couple, arguing on the steps of a crappy apartment building. The guy was attempting to stand higher than the girl, puffing out his chest with every word.

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Bound to Happen (Part 10), Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader

Prompt: The chronicles of being Lin’s assistant to maybe something more.

Words: 1,163

Author’s Note: I know this very much feels like an ending, but there will be more, I promise!

Warnings: As always, a slow burn. (Which isn’t so slow anymore) NSFW talk but no actual smut.

Askbox | Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Lin held his breath for as long as he could, eyes staring unseeing at the wall on his side of the bed.

His side. He had a fucking side. He nearly giggled at that idea.

With a deep breath he took the plunge, shifting on the mattress to chance a peek at you. He was greeted with the smooth expanse of your bare back illuminated by the late morning sun.

The steady rise and fall confirmed your sleeping state still and Lin rolled back to his original position.

He had to play this right. He had to be smooth and cool and romantic as shit. He could roll over just as you began to stir and press a gentle kiss to your shoulder, softly brushing aside your hair.

He felt the mattress shift and he tensed, all of his plans quickly thrown away. He listened as the bed creaked with the abandonment of your presence. The padding of your bare feet against the hardwood signaled your hasty collection of your discarded clothes.

As you sneaked into his bathroom, he flung himself out of the bed, boxers pulled over his hips and a new shirt dragged down his torso. He collected himself before following you, noticing you left the door cracked open.

“You don’t have to sneak off.” He started, catching you just as you were pulling on your shirt.

“I know.” You smiled, running your hands through your disheveled hair. “I just have to be back at work in an hour and I’m sure you have somewhere important to be.”

You sighed as you pressed your hands flat against his chest, the all too familiar smell of his cologne now lingering on your clothes.

“Definitely not running after last night.” You eyes flickered back to his bedroom through the open door. The wrinkled sheets and clutter on the floor the only evidence left.

“Okay.” You pursed his lips for you, and you obliged with a single chaste kiss, “Have fun at work.” You maneuvered past him, only to be met with a single playful slap to your rear. “Change lives.”

“You too.” With that, you left him standing half-naked in his bedroom to collect your shoes and hail a cab before the morning rush.

As you settled into the backseat, using whatever sparse supplies from your purse that allowed you to pull your appearance into something vaguely resembling presentable, you couldn’t help but muse about how easy it all was.

All the late night thought years ago of what it might be like to be with Lin seemed silly now. You were adults, you were mature, you could handle this. Still, that was many, many years ago.

And you didn’t even know where you stood.

You were busy adults, and throwing a semi-one night stand into the mix could only push you further into confusion. Thinking back to the feeling of his body against yours, you couldn’t help but feel like it was a confusion you were happy to embrace.

It was another week before either of you had enough time for one another. A cast party - one with unlimited supplies of alcohol and hours of Broadway stars singing along to karaoke versions of top twenty hits.

Lin was cradling a half-finished beer as you sipped on a margarita Pippa swore by. Everything was laughter and light-heartedness and it felt like it did nearly ten years ago.

“I wanted to talk to you before you left.” Lin leaned over to avoid the eavesdropping voices of his cast-mates. You scanned the venue, landing on a propped open back door. You nodded in the direction and he immediately started tugging you towards it, abandoning your drinks on the table.

You held your arms to brace against the cold night wind as Lin started pacing back and forth. The light snow on the floor now had a Lin shaped path etched in the center.

“You look like your head’s about to explode.” You chided, moving forward to block his never ending path, “Is this about-”

“When we fucked?”

“Well, I was going to put it a little more delicately than that.” You laughed, trying to break the cold atmosphere a bit.

Lin couldn’t help but smile as well.

“I know we’re both busy.” Lin nodded along to this statement, “We don’t have to figure this out right away.”

“We don’t?” Lin’s eyebrow quirked in question.

“We’re adults, I think we can go a few weeks without the whole ‘Is he gonna call me? What does she think I should do? Are we exclusive?’ shit.” Lin giggled at the teasing tone you took on.

“I agree.” His smile was easy. As easy as the one he had worn after collapsing into bed that night - as if he had been waiting for it as long as you had.

“Us being together, it was bound to happen eventually.” You tugged at the lapel of his jacket, just so your bands had something to do. “We’re just both very stressed and this is an added pressure if we let it be.”

Well,” He drawled, a mischievous glint appearing in his eye, “I’m sure we can find something to do that would ease a bit of our stress.”

Which is how you found yourselves bouncing from anticipation in a shared cab. Your apartment was closer than his house - only by a few minutes but you were making every second count,

You already had your keys ready in your hand as the cab driver attempted small talk, ignorant to the heated glances Lin kept shooting you.

You inspected him for a moment - his casual blazer that would soon be vacant. His long hair pulled back, you would have to remedy that as soon as you could. You half wanted to reach over in that moment to pull it loose.

The cab stopped in front of your building.

Even though you had agreed to share the cab, Lin paid the whole fare without comment, pushing you quickly up your front steps, cursing as you juggled your keys.

You triumphantly inserted the key into your lock, Lin’s front slotted against your back, clouding your vision.

It wasn’t fumbling hands and involuntary curses this time. It was practiced, smoother, and if you had anything to say about it, it wouldn’t be the last time.

Falling back into the mattress, neither of you could find it in yourselves to fall asleep like you had before. You tucked the blanket up over your chest as Lin stirred next to you.

You glanced over to find him already looking at you.

“We’re horribly good at that.” He smirked, pressing a gentle kiss to your bare collarbone.

You hummed, shifting to tuck yourself against his body, head pressed to his chest. His arm slung over your shoulder, pulling you impossibly closer.

“This isn’t weird, right?” You mumbled, fighting the exhaustion that came with spending the night with Lin.

Nah.” He sighed, eyes fluttering, “Like you said. Bound to happen.”

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