and showered earlier

in bon voyage ss2 ep.1, around 3:34, after hoseok said he had never been to hawaii before and yoongi replied “we have never been to places you haven’t too”, namjoon said something which is translated to “we’re on the same boat” in the english subs, but it actually means much more than that. namjoon used the phrase 방심동체 (bang-sim-dong-che), a combination of 방탄 (bangtan) and 일심동체 (il-sim-dong-che). 일심동체 (一心同體/一心同体) literally means “one heart and one body”. namjoon combined “bangtan” into the phrase, making it into 방심동체, which can be loosely translated to “bangtan’s hearts and bodies are one”.

Sleepy Angel. (A Fluffy Harry Styles Blurb)

- a quick blurb about cuddling with Harry on a rainy afternoon, I hope you enjoy it. xx

Little droplets of heavy rain rattle against the ceiling, as a sly breeze of wind travels through the trees, causing the dainty leaves to rustle against each other. 

The sky is melancholic grey, a thick layer of clouds covering any hints of baby blue or warm sunlight. You can feel the cool air creep in through all the small cracks, running up your spine, and sending a drizzle of shivers down your whole body.

You let out a whimper, and nuzzle yourself more into Harry’s cozy arms, if that’s even possible. Your leg is draped over his pudgy waist, and your cheek is pressed against his vibrating chest, as he chuckles at your reaction.

“Are yeh cold?” Harry asks, a wide smile plastered on his lips.

“Mh-hmm.” You mumble as a reply, nodding your head, and feeling the soft fabric of his sweater rubbing against your smooth skin.

“Aww.” Harry coos, sliding his hand under his favorite hoodie, the doughnut hoodie that you have been ‘borrowing’ from him for the past week or two. Inhaling his scent, you’re swimming in the musky and calming scent of his cologne, and the cleanliness due to the shower he had earlier in the morning. He starts massaging your back, running his hand up and down firmly, creating some warm friction under his fingertips.

“Better?”

You look up to him tiredly, your eyes fluttering as you’re trying so hard to keep them open, giving you a hazy view of the corner of Harry’s mouth curving up into a lazy smile. His curls are tousled over his face in messy locks, and there is a light scruff along his sharp jawline. Nodding again, your head flops back down, and Harry takes that as a ’yes’, starting to run his nails lightly down your back.

His eyes are locked on you as he looks down, a double chin making an appearance as well as his deep dimples. He watches as you slowly start drifting to sleep, your soft mumbles getting washed away by the hardening rainfall.

‘How?’ is the only thing he can think in this moment. You’re looking so beautiful and calm wrapped around his tall and lanky body, so pure and sweet, even though the rain is attacking the roof and the faint sound of prerecorded cooking shows linger in the open space.

Harry asks something he knows he will ask himself for many years from now:

‘How did I deserve this angel?’

Fight (Fuck) Me! [Stiles x Reader]

A/N: just a little heads up, Theo’s a complete dick in this one. Also, if u guys have any ideas for stuff plz let me know.


Pairing: Stiles x Reader, Theo x Reader


Warning: abusive relationships, asshole Theo, smut (female fingering, oral - male receiving, the deed etc)


Summary: You and Stiles aren’t the best of friends, but you know he’s a pretty decent guy in the end.


***


“Are you fucking serious?” You yell out in shock and hear Stilinski irritable ‘Shut it!’ from halfway across the house. You can’t be bothered with how you’re dressed when you stomp over to him, holding out your bottle of moisturizer.


“Stilinski!” You shout and Stiles groans loudly. He’s lounging on the living room couch playing Xbox and dressed in a tight white shirt with some black jeans.


“What are you bitching about now?” He asks, not bothering to look away from his game. Your mouth drops open in shock at his lack of response and you stand with your arms crossed.


“I’m talking about this, you assfuck!” You scream, throwing your now ruined bottle at him. Stiles finally looks away from his game when the sticky, half open bottle hits him square in the chest. He holds it away from himself with two fingers.


“The fuck?” He asks, looking up at you. You stare him down, seething with anger with your arms crossed under your breasts.


“You!” You accuse. “You did this! And your gonna repay me for it. Do you have any idea how much that shit costs?”


You and Stiles have been living together for about three weeks now. Your dad and the Sheriff are close friends and you needed a place to stay while your dad was out of town on business. Immediately, he sent you to Beacon Hills, where you would attend Beacon High, and unfortunately, have to live with the Sheriff and his asshole son.


Only, that asshole son was a total fucking babe.


A total fucking babe that was staring at you with his mouth agape.


“What?” You snap angrily. It is only then that it occurs to you what exactly you look like. Your hair and parts of your body are dripping wet, having just walked out of the shower moments earlier, and the only thing covering your modesty is your hot pink Victoria’s Secret bra and thong, which you were wearing for a date tonight.


Stiles continues to stare at you, and makes a considerable effort to maintain eye contact. You huff, which you know makes your chest flair out. “Take a good look, Stilinski, coz that’s the closest you’re ever gonna get.”


With those final words, you grab the moisturizer bottle from his hands and storm back into the shower, temper flaring. You can feel his eyes on your ass all the way.


When you’re in the bathroom, you lock the door and make a quick decision to look extra fuckable tonight. You’re sure that Theo will appreciate your efforts. And if you slip back into the shower and spend thirty extra minutes with your fingers in your pussy, thinking of the hungry look in Stiles’ eyes moments earlier then it’s nobody’s business.


****


When you do finally emerge from the bathroom, you can’t help but feel a little proud. You’re wearing a tight white top that dips into a considerably low V with a red mini skirt that falls halfway down your thighs. Your hair is done in a way that you know makes you look gorgeous and your makeup, having taken about an hour to do, is fucking on point.


You walk to your temporary room and rummage through the closet the Sheriff gave you until you find a pair of brown, heeled boots. Slipping them on, you walk to the mirror and admire the way they elongate your legs.


“Hey, you done or not coz there’s-”


The voice stops short and you turn to see Stiles standing in your doorway, mouth agape. He’s staring at you as though he can’t believe what’s in front of him, and you take the opportunity to reach down to grab your bag and get your perfume, ass in the air.


“What is it?” You ask, flipping your hair to the side so that you can spray your neck. From the corner of your eye, you can see the way Stiles follows the movement, licking his lips. For a second, you think he might just pounce and attack you right there.


It’s difficult to ignore the wave of desire that courses through you at the thought.


Stiles finally snaps out of his daze when you place the perfume bottle down loudly. He clears his throat awkwardly and pretends that he hasn’t been outright staring. “Your, um- Your date’s here.”


You nod and grab your purse, slinging it over your shoulder. As you turn to leave, you notice that Stiles is still leaning against the door frame. “Yes?” You ask, albeit impatiently.


“How long’ve you been with this guy?” He asks, going for casual but it’s a near miss. You roll your eyes.


“None of your business, dad,” You reply pointedly, making a move to push past him. Stiles is quicker and stronger, so he easily stops you with two firm hands on your shoulders.


“I’m serious, (Y/N),” When he speaks you realise that he actually is. “Who is this guy to you? Do you trust him?”


There’s a long moment when you truly don’t know what to do. For the most of it, your conversations with Stiles have been clipped and short, or irritated and in the form of shouting contests. You haven’t heard him speak this sincerely before.


“Why?” You ask because you honest to God want to know. Stiles looks contemplative, as though he’s not sure whether or not to tell you something. The moment a decision crosses his face, a loud honk of a car is heard outside.


“Just-” Stiles sighs, and you notice that his hands are still on your shoulders. “Just be careful, alright? If there’s one person in the world that I don’t trust, it’s Theo Raeken.”


After a small nod, Stiles moves out of the way and you brush past him, walking out the door to where Theo is waiting in his car. You barely realise what’s going on around you, your mind still reeling from Stiles’ sudden attitude change.


“Do I smell?”


You jump at the sound of the voice. Looking to your left, you see Theo smiling at you gently. The car’s stopped and you realise that you’ve spent the entire ride to the restaurant in silence.


“I’m sorry?” Because there’s no way you heard that right.


“Do I smell?” He asks again and you shake your head. “Maybe it’s the outfit. A bit much?”


You smile and take a second to look at what he’s wearing. Theo cleans up nice. He’s in a blue button down with a pair of black slacks and some Oxfords on his feet. He looks really good.


“You’re incredibly hot.” You say with a smirk and Theo barks out a laugh. He steps out of the car and moves to your side, opening the door for you before you can’t protest.


“You’re pretty hot yourself, babe,” He whispers in your ear as you stand, one hand smacking your ass before he closes the door.


Your eyes dance around the restaurant and suddenly you feel really bad for the car ride. Mistaking your guilt, Theo walks you towards the table with a hand on the small of your waist, murmuring in your ear: “Don’t worry. The manager owes me a favour.”


He pulls your chair out for you and you sit, feeling a slight blush form on your neck. The table is set for two, in the balcony with no others. It’s completely private. There’s a rose in the centre and the classical music from inside filters through the air.


“This is really sweet.” You tell him when he takes his place in front of you. He smiles bashfully.


“Well, we needed some way to celebrate out one month anniversary.” You grin but can’t help but feel extremely guilty, thinking about how you’d spent the morning.


“Hey, what’s your deal with Stiles?” The words are out of your mouth before you can’t stop them. The smile on Theo’s face falls and immediately you regret it.


“My deal?” He asks, and immediately you know that you’ve crosses a line. In your four weeks of dating, you quickly learned when and when not to question Theo, and when to immediately back away before he gets mad. “What gives you the idea I have anything to do with him?”


“Nothing.” You say quickly, picking up a menu. “He just seemed to recognize you as all. Must’ve been my imagination.”


“Yeah, you really need to put a handle on that.” He murmurs, picking up his menu as well. You pointedly ignore the comment and take far longer to read the menu than you normally would have.


“Good evening.” The waiter, a guy who’s probably around 19 with brown eyes and combed back blonde hair, greets gently. “My name is Evan and I’ll be your server tonight. Would you like to hear out specials?”


You were about to say yes, because you really didn’t know what to order, when Theo spoke for you. “That won’t be necessary.” He said. “I’ll have the Steak platter, extra gravey. Babe?”


“Chicken Burger with fries.” You reply, because that seems simple enough. Just as Evan is about to write it down, Theo interrupts.


“You sure?” He asks, his voice casual but still implicit. He reaches under the table and tugs slightly at your love handles, and you go red. “Make it a Greek salad.”


Evan gives you a look, and you can see that the man is barely containing his disgust at your boyfriends actions. “Greek salad.” You confirm. Evan gives a slight nod, though he looks slightly troubled, before picking up the menus.


“Anything to drink?”


“Coke.” Theo replies distractedly, looking down at his phone.


“Ice tea.” You say, and Theo raises a brow. “Diet.” You quickly add, and are rewarded when Theo shoots you a dazzling smile which you can’t help but return, albeit hesitantly.


Evan nods and gives a beaming, fake smile. “Anything else?”


“No.” Theo says, but Evan doesn’t move. You look up and see that he’s waiting for your answer.


“No, thank you.” You smile, and Evan returns it. It looks a little more genuine, if a bit pitying and you quickly look away before Theo gets mad. Evan tell you two that the meal should take only 10 minutes, 20 at the most, before disappearing back into the hotel.


“I don’t like the way that guy was looking at you.” Theo says, and you clench your vista in your lap to help keep your composure. “Got no right to be looking at my girl like that.”


You can’t help but smile. Despite everything, Theo is very possessive of you, and it honestly makes you feel like he genuinely cares about losing you. It’s also the reason why you could never leave him. He made that pretty clear.


“I love you.” You say gently, and Theo smiles, reaching a hand across the table and taking yours.


“I love you too.” And his voice is too sincere to doubt. “I should ask for another waiter.”


“That’s-” You pause. “Isn’t that a little unnecessary?” You can see Theo’s eyes darken and fear tinges at your fingertips. “I mean, we came out here to have a good time. We don’t need any drama.”


“Course you’d say that.” He says, eyes still dark. You want to pull your hand away from his, but he’s got a tight grip on your wrists and it fucking *hurts*. “Bet you’re loving all this attention they’re giving you. The waiter, the Stilinski boy. You’re a little slut who’ll open her legs for anyone who asks nicely enough. Babe, you need to realise something. They only want you because they know they can’t have you. They’re just trying to challenge the Alpha Male - me, and I won’t let them think I’m weak just because you can’t keep your tits to yourself. Understood?”


You look down to hide the tears streaming over your cheeks. No reply comes from your mouth, because you know that it’ll be choked and wet and Theo absolutely hates seeing you cry.


“Answer me!” He slams your joint hands on the table and you wince. You look up and try to contain yourself when you speak.


“I understand.” Your voice is barely above a whisper and Theo smiles.


“Good.” He says. “Now wipe your face. You look like shit when you cry.”


***

You try your damnest not to make a sound as you open the front door with shaky hands. Despite your best efforts, you and Theo still got into a fight, and he showed you as much mercy as he had all previous nights.


The fight (which had been about Stiles, of all things) hadn’t lasted very long. You weren’t very edger to fight back, your guilt from your earlier interactions with the guy still weighing down heavily upon your chest. Theo had misread it, and seemed to think there was something going on between you and Stiles. Words were yelled and punches were thrown but you walked out of it okay. Safe for a mean looking bruise on you jaw, which would blossom into a deep purple mark tomorrow, and a few cuts and scrapes, you were untouched.


You knew, however, that despite this being one of the better nights, your injuries would not go unnoticed by Stiles or the Sheriff, which was why you had waited until all the lights were out to try and get in.


Without much thought, too tired and in too much pain, you push the door open and make a b-line for the kitchen. Immediately, you pull out a bag of something frozen and stick it on your cheek, rummaging through for some ice cream.


“What the fuck?”


You jump at the sound of the voice. Almost immediately, your hands fly to your face as a defence mechanism, but it isn’t necessary. It’s just Stiles.


Stiles, standing there in nothing but some black shorts with a baseball bat in his hands.


“Umm.” You say stupidly because the sight of Stiles’ abs has rendered you as such. Stiles drops the bat and walks towards you, looking concerned.


“What are you doing?” He asks as he walks to you, eyes brimming with worry. “It’s three in the fucking morning.”


“Ice cream.” You say lamely, but Stiles isn’t listening. His eyes are glued to the packed of frozen peas in your hand that you’re trying to hold against your jaw and wrists at the same time.


“What happened?” He asks, slowly pulling the bag of peas away. You prepare yourself for the look of disgust on his face when he sees the injury, so it’s very unexpected when he looks even more concerned.


“I fell.” You lie easy. Stiles doesn’t look away from your injuries, now choosing to inspect your wrists, which are bruised all round and is bleeding in a small area.


“I’m not stupid.” He says, and you’re shocked by the sincerity in his voice. “I know Theo did this to you. I know he’s the reason you’ve been coming home with bruises all month long. What I don’t know is why you haven’t said anything about it.”


You wince as Stiles prods your jaw gently. He looks contemplative, but eventually settled for sitting your down at the kitchen table. “Wait.” He says, then runs off. You resist the urge to scream.


This wasn’t supposed to happen. No one could know what Theo was doing because they could never understand. All they would do is judge you for not leaving, and give you pitying looks all the while thinking that you must’ve done something to deserve it. No one understood, least of all Stiles.


“Here.” You look up to see Stiles, hand stretched out with a bucket of ice. Confusion clouds your features and Stiles gives you a gentle smile. He puts the bucket down on the table and brings your right hand towards it, pushing it in.


It’s extremely cold but also soothing. You sigh gently as your wrist is finally given the attention it deserves. You’re about to thank Stiles before he leaves, only to find that he’s not leaving at all. He’s kneeling next to you and opening what looks to be a first aid kit.


“That’s not-” You try but Stiles silences you with a look.


“It’ll help.” He says. “I promise.”


The older boy opens a jar of sorts and the smell of herbs drifts to the air. He dips two fingers into the salve and gently brings them to your face, applying it to the spot with the utmost caution.


“It stinks.” He says. “But it’ll reduce the swelling. Give me your wrists.”


You oblige deftly, raising your bruised wrists from the tank of melting ice to where Stiles is kneeling half-naked next to you. He drys your wrists off with a kitchen towel before applying a rather thick layer of the salve onto your wrist, massaging it gently.


“Better?” He asks in a whisper as he stands, after five minutes of comfortable silence. Suddenly, you are pulled back into the real world and are faced with the truth. You had just shared this moment with Stiles, with the guy you had screamed that you hated at your boyfriend before he punched you in the face. Theo would be pissed, so fucking pissed, but you would deal with that tomorrow.


“Much.” You say, and make a move to stand, but you’re unsteady. You’re feet wobble in your brown heels and Stiles quickly wraps his arms around you, stabilizing your body before you fell.


“How bout something to eat?” He asks, “I mean, you could go to bed like this and all, but for some reason I don’t think you’ll wake up in the morning.”


“Bet you’d love that.” You say, feeling some of your wit returning. Stiles smiles.


“Nah.” He says. “Then who’s gonna be there to falsely accuse me of stealing moisturizer?” You laugh loudly and Stiles smiles. “Um, there’s a 24 hour pizza place a couple of minutes away. We could go there.” He suggest and you shrug, realizing how close you are. You pull back.


“Hey man, it’s your town.” You say and Stiles nods.


“Eddie’s it is, then.” The two of you stand but you hesitate, looking down at your outfit.


“Give me one second.” You say and run up the stairs into your bedroom. For a moment, you wonder if you should dress up but ultimately decide that it’s not worth it. You swap out your skirt and top for a pair of sweats and a baggie t-shirts, and your heels for your beat up converse. You grab your phone as you walk down, pulling your hair from it’s tangles and into a messy bun.


“I look like shit but who’s gonna see?” You ask when you walk back into the kitchen. Stiles looks at you laughs.


“You look beautiful.” He says, and grabs his car keys. You eyes widen.


“Aren’t you gonna put something on?” You ask as Stiles stand in front of you, still wearing nothing but a pair of black shorts. He shrugs.


“It’s hot.” He says simply, walking out the door. When you just stay right where you are with your mouth agape, he pops back inside. “You coming or what?”


“I’m gonna regret this,” You say as you follow him out the door, noticing that he left behind his baseball bat. As you walk out into the front yard, you see Stiles in his blue Jeep, looking far too excited for a midnight drive for pizza. “Yeah, I’m definitely gonna regret this.”


The ride to Eddie’s, as Stiles had called the place, is filled with stupid small talk and light arguments. (You think that Batman could win in a fight against Iron Man. Stiles strongly disagrees) The two of you listen to crappy music and Stiles sings along at the top of his voice, which you realize is actually pretty good, and you join him. Soon, the two of you are laughing after having belted out the final notes to Smashmouth’s 'I’m a Believer’ in the Eddie’s parking lot, while people look at you like you’re mad.


“Oh my God,” You say breathlessly, wiping the tears from your eyes as you clutch your stomach. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard a worse butchering of a Shrek song in my life!”


Stiles laughs, loud and free, and it’s like music to your ears. “I think that guy in the ugly Mini would agree with that.” He says though a new burst of laughter and you look to your right to see a very disgruntled looking man in a piss green mini looking at the Jeep and it’s occupants like it was something he stepped in.


“Fuck off!” You scream through the window and throw the finger at him. The guy, despite probably bring in his mid twenties, looks positively insulted and immediately get in his car and leaves. Stiles bursts out laughing.


“You know,” he says. “Maybe if you weren’t such a bitch at the start we could’ve been friends much sooner.” He smirks when he says it, and you can feel Stiles’ eyes raking over your form.


“Friends?” You ask, keeping a sultry edge to your voice. “Is that what we are?”


Stiles smirks, and you take the moment to fully appreciate him. His skin is stretched taught over his muscles and you love the way the dim light of the parking lot reflects off of them, making him look all kinds of delicious. His whiskey eyes are dark with lust, and you notice the way his pupils are huge and a vein sticks out slightly from his neck. You want to lick it.


“Let’s go.” You say and promptly step out of the car, taking a deep breath. You really shouldn’t, not after Stiles had seen you so emotional and vulnerable, but you can’t help it. He’s a fucking babe, and you want nothing more than for him to pound you like there’s no tomorrow.


Stiles follows out after you and the two of you walk into the place together. You know you must look like a pair if drunk lovers, with your faces flushed and your attire being what it was, but right now you couldn’t be bothered to give a damn.


He leads the way, taking you to a booth that’s on the edge in the centre of the Pizzeria. The place is mostly empty, safe for an elderly woman who’s out with her husband, giggling like teenagers. You grin at them. Stiles walks around like he knows the place well, and doesn’t even pick up a menus when he sits down.


A lovely middle aged woman walks up to you two a few minutes later, and you’ve decided on your order. The woman, Delores as her name tag tells, smiles broadly when she approaches.


“What’ll it be, sweetie?” She asks, sounding cheerful. Stiles turns to her, offended, and for a second you think he’s gonna yell before a broad grin swipes across the woman’s face.


“Sweetie?” He asks, “Lola I’m offended. Whatever happened to hottest ass in town?” You snort at that and the woman gives you a wink.


“Don’t worry babe. You’re still the sweetest piece of ass I know.” She says, laughing. “I just didn’t want your girlfriend over here to get jealous.” Stiles looks at you, grinning and licking his lips, looking all kinds of sexy and adorable.


“I’m not the jealous type.” You say and he laughs at that. The waitress, Lola as Stiles had so lovely called her, grins broadly. You and Stiles stare at each other from across the table, each challenging the other to look away first.


“Now now,” Lola interrupts. “No eye fucking just yet. Lemme first get you order.” You look away abruptly, going red and Lola laughs good-naturedly. “Okay, so usual for you?” She asks and Stiles nods. “And you, sweetie?”


“Give me the greasiest, most carb filled pizza that you guys make.” You say, looking at Stiles and wondering for a fleeting moment if he’ll object or look at you with disgust. Instead, he just raises an impressed eyebrow.


Lola laughs. “Your girl’s a keeper.” She says to Stiles.


“Damn right she is.” He replies, softer, looking deep into your eyes. There’s a moment where you know that you have a choice. You could correct him now, you could stop this by simply looking away or saying no, but you don’t.


“Best believe it.” You murmur, but by the way Stiles smirks slightly, you know he’s heard you. Lola offers you both two large milkshakes, she says it’s on the house but Stiles will pay for it anyway, and walks off, looking entirely too satisfied.


“I used to come here when I was little.” Stiles says, looking around the place. “My dad would drop me off here coz there wasn’t anyone at home and I was too small to stay by myself. Lola would babysit me, stuff me with junk food and all kinds of shit an eight year old wasn’t supposed to be eating. She’s practically family.”


You nod, smiling slightly. “She seems nice.” You say, then think again. “Wait, she seems really nice. Why is it that she likes you again?”


Stiles scoffs, offended. “I’ll have you know that I am perfectly likeable, thank you very much.”


You smirk. “Yeah, that’s why it took me a whole month to warm up to you.”


“No, no, see that’s different.” He’s smiling, oh so softly and it makes your insides flutter. “See, I had a plan with you. It was all set to schedule. If everything goes on track, you’ll be falling in love with me by the first day of summer.”


“Is that right now?” You asks, sitting up a little straighter. Stiles smirked slightly, and you know that he can see down your cleavage. “How’s that working out for you?”


He bites down on his plump lip before licking over it with his tongue. You want nothing more than to jump across the table and bite said tongue, but you refrain from doing so. “Great.” He says, leaning his forearms on the table. Suddenly, his face is right in front of yours and you can see the lust in his eyes. “In fact, I think tonight might be the night.”


“Oh really?” You ask, sounding disbelieving but the husk in your tone gives you away. “What makes you think that?”


Suddenly, Stiles is leaning over the table and pulling you in close, so that his mouth is just under your ear. “Because,” he says in a whispered rasp, “I’m doing this and you aren’t stopping me.” He sticks his tongue out and licks at the shell of your ear. You shudder, leaning forward as Stiles takes the lobe between his lips and sucks it gently. He trials his wet lips upwards and nibbles slightly at the top, and your hand reaches out holding on to his shoulder.


“Now, now,”


You jump back at the sudden voice and your heart pounds in your chest. Looking up, you see Lola staring at you with a watchful eye, but a smirk is playing at her lips. “This place is strictly PG. Understood?”


Stiles’ ears go slightly red, but his nipples are taught from your actions. You’re sure he’s sporting a bit of a boner. “Yes, ma'am.” He mumbles, thanking Lola when she places two large pizzas on the table.


The woman walks away, giving you an over exaggerated wink behind Stiles’ back and you smile slightly at her. “It’s a shame.” You say, pulling back a slice. “Now you have to walk outta here with a tent in your pants.”


Stiles gives you a look that says 'that was totally inappropriate but you’re too fucking hot for me to care’ as he too takes his first slice of pizza. You don’t know what he’s eating, but he licks sauce off his lips and all you can think about is licking it off his abs.


The rest dinner (or early breakfast) is spent mostly in silence, but you can’t help but look up every now and then. Stiles is staring at you with a fierce look in his eyes and it makes you want to jump his bones right there and then.


When he pays, the sexual tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. You can’t help but think of all those times where you were so mad and frustrated at him and wanted nothing more than to have him fuck you senseless.


Afterwards, you’re driving in the Jeep when you can’t take it any more. Stiles isn’t helping, looking unfairly sexy with nothing but a pair of shorts to cover his modesty, and brown, hunter eyes. When he pulls the car to a stop, you place a hand of his thigh.


“Yes?” He asks, smirking slightly. You just shrug, as if you don’t know what he’s thinking. Stiles doesn’t say anything as he presses down on the gas, eyes focused on the road.


Slowly, painstakingly so, your hand moves higher and higher. You can hear Stiles breath hitch when your nails scratch gently over the bulge that has formed in his pants, and you consider giving him what he wants, but realize it’s much more fun to tease. Your hands only graze over his covered cock before you move further up, dragging the smooth surface of your fingernails over his exposed abs.


Stiles outright moans when you run your fingertips over the muscles, and you see the way he gripped the steering wheels with white knuckles. *My turn,* you think as you unbuckle your seat belt and move forward.


With a hand still toying gentle with Stiles’ abs and happy trail, you shift closer and press your lips to a spot just under his ear. Stiles’ breath hitches in his throat and he stiffly changes gears. “What are you doing?” He asks, his voice full of lust.


“Giving you a taste of your own medicine.” Your voice is feather light and your lips brush teasingly over his ear as you speak. Stiles groans softly, and you take it as an okay. You mimick his earlier actions, licking wetly over the shell of his ear before biting down gently, enough to make the car swerve slightly. “Careful, babe.” You say, your voice sulty. You lick over the bitten spot again, blowing cool air over it and Stiles moans.


“Oh, fuck it.” He says, and suddenly he’s pulling over and parking the car on the side of the road. You take the opportunity, swinging your legs over so that you’re straddling his lap, unbuckling his safety belt.


His hands go to your hips when you begin to kiss down his neck. Stiles’ skin tastes like salt and vanilla and you suck down on it like a vacuum, determined to leave your mark. He lets you do as you please, something you’d never got from Theo, and tilts his head back to allow you more room.


You go left until you find that vein you’d seen earlier. It’s protruding loudly against his neck now, and fuck if it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. You press your tongue wide on it and lick from bottom to top, only stopping to nibble slightly on Stiles’ jaw.


His breath hitches, and he hesitates only a moment before taking control and crashing his lips to yours. He tastes like chocolate milkshake, you think absently as his lips devour your own and you wrap your arms around his neck. They feel amazingly soft and delicate, yet at the same time wild and demanding. You love every second of it.


His tongue pushes into your mouth and it’s all teeth and lips after that. The wet muscle strokes against your mouth expertly and you moan into him. Stiles smirks against your lips, forcing his tongue further down your throat until you’re sure there isn’t a place in your mouth that his tongue hasn’t touched. Unfortunately, the need for oxygen becomes to great to ignore and you pull away, breathing heavy.


“The things you do to me, baby.” He says, leaning his forehead against your own. You grind down on him, and are pleased to find that he’s hard and aching. Stiles moans at the touch and pulls you in for another kiss, his tongue shooting into your mouth before your lips have even touched.


His hands move slowly as they travel under your shirt and pull it up over your head. He throws it behind somewhere, but you can hardly give a fuck with Stiles’ eyes watching you like that. You’d opted to go braless when you went to change, and now with Stiles looking like a kid on Christmas, you were glad for it.


He leans down and quickly takes one nipple into his mouth, the other hand expertly cupping and toying with the other. Your hands move from his neck to his hair and you tug harshly at the strands when Stiles starts to suck noisily at your tits, making the sweetest of sounds. When he takes your nipple between his teeth and pulls back so your tit stretches out, you moan so loudly you have to stop yourself.


He gives the other breast the same treatment as his hands move downwards and toy with the waistband of your sweats. His skin is like lighting against your own and and your arch into him, loving it.


“You okay with this?” He asks, pulling away from you and looking up with the utmost sincerity. Despite the lust in his eyes, you know that if you ask him to, he’ll stop right here and now. It warms your heart, but right now you need to be fucked.


“Definitely.” You say and Stiles smirks. He pulls your pants and panties down in one go and immediately stuffs two fingers into your pussy, pumping wildly. He has to hold you tight at the small of your back to stop your from falling over with the intensity of his movements. You moan hotly and pull his face up, crashing your lips together and the car is filled with sweet clenching noises.


“You’re so wet for me.” He mumbles against you, sounding so utterly fucked out and sexy that you can’t help but moan again. You grind yourself against his bulge and Stiles moans loudly.


The hand at your back is gone and Stiles curles his fingers inside of your pussy, just as a his other hands’ thumb presses down hard on your clit. You come with a shout, clenching down on his fingers which are still moving rapidly inside of you. Your over sensitive nub is rubbed at again and you feel jolts of electricity shoot through.


Eventually you have to stop his hands as the pleasure becomes too much. He pulls his fingers out of you as you calm down and you look up, seeing your come on his digits.


Then, he does the most absurd thing. He sticks his fingers into his mouth and wipes them clean, looking you dead in the eye and smirking at your open mouth. His tongue swirls around the digits and he smirks through it, pulling them out clean.


“Fuck,” you say, then make a quick decision. Stiles isn’t expecting it when you suddenly drop to your knees and pull his shorts down, his errection springing up in front of your face. The pedals are digging into your back but you don’t care.


You eyes widened and your mouth waters at the sight of him. He’s big, bigger than you expected, but you know you can take the full thing. His thick cock is slightly veiny, and looks so damn tempting. You can’t help yourself when you immediately lean forward and wrap your lips around the tip.


Stiles moans loudly was you suckle his tip, hands automatically moving to your hair and pulling it out of its bun, only to then tangle his fingers in it. His nails dig into your scalp and you moan at the feeling, loving the way he forces you deeper and deeper.


You pull away and lick one long stripe from base to tip. He stops you from going back down. “Stick your tongue out, babe.” You do as you’re told, rogue hanging from your mouth. You moan loudly when Stiles slaps his dick on your wet tongue hard, holding your head in place with one hand. You open your mouth wider, loving the feel. “Oh, you like that don’t you?”


He forces you back down on his cock and you love how dominant he’s being. He guides your head non too gently along his member and you bob up and down, loving the taste of his skin and salty precum on your tongue. Then, his dick hits the back of your throat and you tighten around him. Stiles moans loudly, pulling you off.


He reaches down and fishes into the pockets of his shorts for his wallet. Fumbling only briefly, he pulls out a silver foiled packet and throws the wallet aside carelessly. You take the packet from his hands, just as he’s about to open it.


Looking into his eyes, you tear the packet open with your teeth and Stiles eyes widen. You smirk and roll the condom down his length and Stiles watches you with something akin to awe.


With one hand on your hip and the other on his cock, Stiles’ teases your entrance with his tip, rubbing it against your sensitive clit as you stand on your knees above him, legs spread wide. You moan as jolts of electricity shoot up your spine, but Stiles continues to watch you, not giving in.


“Please, Stiles.” You beg. The teenager smirks.


“Whatever you say, Princess.” Suddenly he slams into you in one thrust and you moan loudly against him. The thrusts up quickly, his dick slamming in and out of you at a brutal pace.


“My pretty little princess,” he whispers in your ear. “You love it when I fuck you like this, don’t you?” His hands move up your body and squeeze at your tits. “I bet you’ve been fantasizing about this for days. Thinking about what it would feel like to have my cock in you.”


“Yeah. Oh God yes.” You moan out desperately, nails raking down his back so hard, you’re sure it’ll leave marks. Stiles smirks.


“Tell me.” He says and you moan as he thrusts in deep, hitting that perfect spit inside of you.


“I get myself off to the thought of you fucking me.” You moan, fingers sliding into his hair. “I wanted you so badly. I thought of you when he fucked me. I knew you were better, bigger, could make me moan and come in ways he never could.” Stiles moans loudly and slams harshly into you. “I’ve thought about it all month. The first day I saw you, I wanted to get on my knees and blow you. Wanted to have your cum dripping down my face and tits. Wanted you to fuck me until yours is the only name I remember.”


“And now?” He breathes against you. “Now what do you want?”


“I want to come with you inside of me.” You say. “I wanna clench around your dick and make you lose control. Wanna through you over the edge and go down with you.”


Stiles moans loudly and reaches between your bodies, pressing down hand on your clit once more. Again, you come immediately, back arching, clenching hard around him as he thrusts wildly into you.


“I’m almost there, baby.” He moans, pulling your face forward and kissing you hard. It occurs to you that what your tasting is your own juices on Stiles’ lips and you moan against him.


“Come on,” you taunt. “Come for me, baby.” It takes two more thrusts before he pushes into you hard, spilling into the condom and dropping down on the car seat. The two of you stay like that for a moment, his dick softening inside of you.


Stiles pulls out and you move, going back into the passenger seat. Your pussy is raw from his fucking and you don’t really care how you look with your legs spread wide as cold air brushes over your centre. Stiles pulls out the condom and ties it up, throwing it out of the window.


“That’s nasty.” You tell him. He looks at you and laughs.


“You’re one to judge.” You flush red at that. Stiles laughs openly. “Do you really get off to the thought of me?”


You look at him and smirk. “All the fucking time.”

2

Mr. Monster, Goldendoodle (8 m/o), Union Square, New York, NY • “He loves water – if there’s a water bowl he’ll stick his whole face in and blow bubbles. He’ll also follow me into the shower and just sit right under the shower head. Earlier today he smelled like my coconut shampoo because I lathered him up.” @mr.monsterpup

Snowstorm

This was supposed to be posted earlier in the week but I just now managed to finish it. Special thanks to @permanentcross for yelling at me to write it (and for not being mad at me for calling it Snowstorm - she’s cool with it). Let me know if you guys enjoy it! Much love, B xx

***

Originally posted by trairicordielaschiena

Being stuck at the hotel during a snowstorm, having nothing to do except looking at each other’s faces, Harry’s bored out of his mind. So, while you watch some stupid tv show, he’s lying on his tummy, scrolling through his phone and you’re lying on him, cheek smushed against his bum, cause it’s why not? Even though the heating is on, the view of the city covered in white fluffy snow on your window is giving you chills and you yearn to be close to him but he’s too focused on his damn phone to pay attention to you. 

Tired of the silly TV show and of being ignored in order for him to scroll aimlessly through social media, even though he’s never posting anything, you sigh, moving your head to look up at him, your cheek smushed to his bum as you look at the back of his head. His hair is messy, curling at the ends and with no sunglasses to hold it back, you can truly appreciate just how long his hair has become over the past few months, his sweats are clinging to his long legs and the long sleeved t-shirt make his broad shoulders look even wider with the white fabric straining against them.

He looks good and warm and so cozy that all you want is to snuggle up to him and be close, share languid kisses that make your tummy flutter with butterflies and your toes curl when he presses closer. But he’s on his phone. And, even though your hand is pressing to his back, scratching lightly over his shirt and you’re very much resting against him, he shows no signs of letting go of the small piece of technology he holds so dearly in his hands any time soon.

You’ve tried everything already - calling his name, to which he only gave you a mumbled “hum?” and when you continued to speak, you were left with no response from him; you’ve tried pinching his sides but the boy has a brain of steel and when he’s invested in something like he is on his phone, it’s hard to break him away from it. You’ve tried turning up the volume on the TV to see if the movie playing in it would catch his attention and make him move you up to him for a cuddle while you both watch it but not even then had you managed to catch his eye and you were sick of it.

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dailymail.co.uk
'I told him you didn't get her, she played dead': Inmate who attacked gunman Dylann Roof in prison shower says church shooter was bragging about 11-year-old victim who narrowly survived his attack

Dwayne Stafford, 26, was released on bail from Charleston County jailHe posted $100,000 bond using donations after he attacked Dylann RoofStafford admitted to attacking Roof in a prison shower earlier this monthRoof is charged with killing nine parishioners at the Emanuel AME ChurchBut an 11-year-old girl and two other women survived the June massacre
The inmate who punched Dylann Roof in prison says the suspected mass shooter bragged about killing an 11-year-old girl in the Charleston massacre, even though she survived.

Roof is charged with killing nine black parishioners at the African-American Emanuel AME Church last year but the young girl, who has yet to be named, and two other women escaped with their lives.

Dwayne Stafford, 26, who was released on a $100,000 bond after brutally beating Roof in a prison shower, says the alleged killer was confused about the details of the June 2015 shooting.

Stafford’s bail was paid through donations after an anti-discrimination group urged people to donate to Stafford by depositing money into his online account.

Apologize [Rick Grimes x Reader]

Can you write a Rick x reader where the reader is best friends with Carl and she has the hugest crush on Rick and one day, when Rick gets mad at her she mumbles ‘Sorry daddy’ and Rick hears? Smut please? With daddy!kink?

Ask and ye shall receive, nonnie! I hope you enjoy! xx

Warnings: Choking, Daddy Kink, Smut, Language, Unprotected Sex (pls don’t do this)

Words: 2,739

A/N: I am so sorry I haven’t written anything in forever. But, HERE take some glorious filth to make up for it. Get ya holy water ready, you’re gonna need it. 

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Never Have I Ever - Part 2

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x female reader 
Summary: Being interviewed by the most famous talk show host was totally new for you, and like always Ellen did her reputation justice, making you reveal something to the audience especially Sebastian seems to like.
Warning: smut, obviously ;) fingering, vaginal.. I’m bad at this

Part 1

Can anyone find the Hannah Montana related part? ;) 
Also, does anyone know where this gif is from?!?!?!

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Cramps & Cozy Baths

Heyyyooo! This is just a small little blurb, because I am having a hellish period right now and the thought of Harry cuddling me makes me feel better!

Warnings: None it’s just cute. Slight mention of nudity?


You hated periods.

You were pretty sure if you were a lesbian who never wanted kids, or just someone who didn’t want kids in general, you would immediately get your tubes tied. Of course, you had to want children in your future, so getting your tubes tied, unfortunately, was not in your near future, and this meant suffering for 5 days every month.

This month, for whatever reason, your cramps were rendering you absolutely useless. For the past two days you had been bundled up in your bedroom, curled around a heating pad with a bottle of Midol on you at all times, but you still felt like your stomach was twisting in on itself and trying to kill you. You had barely touched your phone, and even when you tried, the pain in your stomach was so bad your vision was too blurry from the tears in your eyes to read whatever was on your screen. It was obvious your period was going to be bad this time around, considering you went through half a box of tampons in one day, and you really just wanted to relax in the bath. But, you had just forced yourself to take a shower a few hours earlier, and the thought of leaving the comfort of your bed and your heating pad again made your stomach hurt even more, if that was even possible.

Harry had been worrying about you all day due to your lack of communication, something that was rare between the two of you. You had been best friends for years, and you rarely ever went a day without talking to one another, even if it was just a quick text message to say hello and make sure everything was going well. He immediately noticed that you had been acting off the other day over the phone, and after not hearing from you at all yesterday or today, despite how many times he had called and texted, by 1pm he decided it would be best for him to pop by and make sure you were okay himself. 

The second he slipped the spare key you had given him into the lock and opened the door, he knew something was off. Usually the second he entered your apartment he was assaulted by the scent of whatever candle you were burning that day, the sound of a vinyl blasting through your living room, and the sight of you jumping around the small area with a smile on your face; today, there was absolutely no sign of life in the small apartment, which caused Harry’s worrying to kick into overdrive. The door was quickly shut behind him before he was popping his head into your kitchen, his eyes immediately falling on your cell phone which was currently on the island counter plugged in, meaning you definitely had to be home. Earlier in the day, you had pulled yourself out of bed to grab a bottle of water and ended up leaving your phone downstairs to charge, and you just couldn’t be bothered to go downstairs and grab it when you remembered.

Next, Harry was toeing off his boots quickly before jumping up the small set of stairs you had that lead to your bedroom, and he let out a sigh of relief as he turned the corner and saw your figure lying on your bed through your bedroom door which was currently wide open.

As soon as he entered your bedroom, you could smell him. His cologne was something you had gotten so used to smelling that the scent immediately brought you comfort as it wafted throughout your bedroom, signaling that he was there. You didn’t jump or scream as you felt the bed dipping next to you, all you did was sigh as he wrapped his arm around you and pulled your back against his front, taking on the role of the big spoon (which you would hear about later, when he would say you owed him because he liked to be the little spoon), his hand resting on the heating pad that was over your stomach, and it finally clicked. Harry knew all about your periods, which is to be expected when you’ve been best friends with someone for over 10 years. You had always been very open about it, and Harry always did his best to comfort you; talking about periods never bothered him, after all, he did grow up with his mum and sister, and he felt that acting grossed out about something that was natural was just childish. Periods didn’t bother him whatsoever, he just hated seeing how they affected you every month.

“Had me worried sick, bug,” his voice was quiet, his chin resting on top of your head as his hand slipped in-between your stomach and the heating pad as he began to slowly knead his fingers against your lower stomach, where he knew your cramps were always the worst.

“M’sorry, haven’t been on my phone much,” your voice was rough as you spoke, considering those were the first real words you had spoken in the past two days that weren’t you groaning about pain to yourself.

You could already feel yourself relaxing into Harry as he spoke and his fingers kept working on your stomach, and you were suddenly regretting not grabbing your phone earlier and sending him a quick text, asking him to come over.


Eventually, you ended up falling asleep in Harry’s arms, and he fell asleep not long after you. By the time your cramps decided to come back full force and wake you up, it was now 5pm and even waking up in Harry’s arms wasn’t enough to make the pain go away. You slowly moved out of his arms, forcing yourself out of the bed and into the bathroom, knowing you would need a tampon change and hoping you could find something that was stronger than the midol you had been relying on. Of course, as your luck would have it, the cabinet was empty and the pain in your stomach was so bad you decided to take a seat right on the cold floor, your head leaning against the cabinets. 

It wasn’t long before Harry woke up as well, the lack of warmth from your body causing his body to flip over onto your side and shoot awake when you weren’t there. The light from the bathroom was peaking through a sliver in the door, and he got up slowly, peaking in the bathroom where he saw you now lying on the ground.

“Love,” he groaned, pushing the door open fully as he walked in and kneeled down in front of you, “Should’ve woken me up,” his hand was running through your hair softly as you shrugged, mumbling something about not wanting to bother him, which only caused him to huff and shake his head, “Stubborn, ya kno’ that? Drive me crazy.” As a response, all you did was pout up at him, which he responded to by tugging on your bottom lip lightly before standing up and reaching over to the bathtub to get it started.

“What are you doing?” your head was now tilted towards him, watching as he made sure the temperature was perfect before blocking the drain, letting the water fill the bath.

“M’runnin’ ya’ a bath, what’s it look like silly?” the bag of bath bombs you had next to the bath was now in his hands as he rummaged through it, trying to find your favorite one for when you had cramps, “The warm water will help your cramps, and I’ll stay in here and keep ya’ company so I know you’re okay.”

All you could do was manage a smile, pushing yourself up into a sitting position as you watched Harry tossing the bath bomb into the bath, his eyes widening as he watched it explode with color for a few minutes before his attention was back on you. You were staring up at him, a fond smile on your lips as he raised his eyebrows at you, reaching his hands down and signaling you to grab onto them, which was met with a grunt from you as you slapped your hands into his, letting him pull you up.

Harry had seen you naked plenty of times, that was something that was bound to happen in years of friendship. Neither of you were a stranger to barging in on one another completely in the nude, so when Harry’s fingers wrapped around the hem of your shirt and started to tug it off, you didn’t even flinch, all you did was raise your arms so he could toss it off. No matter how many times Harry had seen your boobs though, he couldn’t help the way his eyes wandered on them longer than they definitely should, but who could blame him? You had really nice boobs, which he had told you before, to be fair.  The next thing to be thrown off were your panties, before Harry was helping you into the bathtub and tossing your discarded clothes into the laundry hamper that was next to the door.

“S’the water okay?” he had pulled up the makeup chair you had in your bathroom next to the tub, and you gave him a nod and a smile as you leaned your back against the tub wall. Due to the bath bomb, the only thing that could be seen through the water was a slight outline of your body, but nothing else.

“Thank you,” you spoke up after a moment of sitting in the water, the scent of your bath bomb and the warm water working to relax your muscles, and stomach. 

“F’course, bug,” he smiled down at you, his hand playing with your hair that was falling over the side of the tub, his fingers massaging your scalp every now and then.

“Can you braid my hair?” a few moments of comfortable silence had passed before you spoke up, sitting up in the tub and bringing your knees to your chest as you looked at him with wide and hopeful eyes. A laugh left his lips as he nodded, and you smiled wide as you turned so your back was now facing him and your head was tilted against his lap as he began to run his fingers through your long hair, separating it and beginning the braid.


Harry was currently bouncing around your kitchen as you sat at the table, your eyes following him as he whipped together a dinner for you two, even though you had protested and said you could just order take out. He refused, of course, because he knew you probably hadn’t eaten because of your cramps and your first meal wasn’t going to be take out. You had spent a good amount of time in the bath, and by the time Harry was helping you out and finding you a shirt to wear (he had opted for a sweater that was his that he found hidden in your drawer, being sure to comment that it looked better on you anyways) your cramps had finally dissipated. 

You had been in love with Harry for as long as you could remember, and times like this only made your feelings for him intensify, even though you knew you would never act on them. You didn’t want to lose Harry, because at the end of the day he was your best friend, and you couldn’t live without him. But, that didn’t stop you from coming up behind him in the kitchen and wrapping your arms around him tightly from behind, your cheek resting against his tone back.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you mumbled quietly, and you could feel Harry’s hands sliding over yours that were resting on his stomach and lacing with yours, giving your hands a soft squeeze.

“Always gonna take care of ya,” one of his hands slipped out of yours, and you heard him turning the stove off and pushing the pot with spaghetti off of the burner before he was turning around in your arms, wrapping his own around you and pulling you in closer to him, “Wish you would’ve called me earlier though, could’ve been here all week.” he was sincere as he spoke, and you knew 100% that he wouldn’t hesitate to stay with you an entire week, just making sure you felt better and were being taken care.

“Nooo, couldn’t keep you from all your friends for that long just to take care of little ole’ me. Not that important,” you shrugged, your chin resting on his chest as you looked up at him and he frowned down at you. His arms unwound themselves from around you and only seconds later his hands were on either side of your face, holding your cheeks as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“F’course you’re important, bug. Most important person in m’life, ya kno’ that,” his nose was bumping with yours in an eskimo kiss, something you two did often without even really thinking about it, “Wouldn’t wanna be anywhere but here, takin’ care of you, to be honest.”

You didn’t respond, because you didn’t really know how to without spilling your guts to him, so you just bumped your nose back against his, letting your eyes fall closed as you relaxed into his body. In the next minute though, his lips were on yours and you completely froze for a second, causing him to start to pull back which quickly snapped you out of it and your hand reached behind his neck quickly, refusing to let him tilt his head back as you pressed your lips firmly against his again until both of your lips were moving in sync. You were now backed up into the island, his body pressed as close to yours as it could get as his hands slipped under your (his) sweater, resting on your hips as his fingers dug into your skin softly, and both of your bodies felt as if they were going to explode any second, but in the best way possible.

Harry had no idea what came over him, but he knew he had been wanting to kiss you for years and for some reason, standing in your kitchen at that moment, he just couldn’t hold it back anymore. He had realized throughout the day that taking care of you was one of his favorite things to do, and he really wouldn’t mind doing it for the rest of your lives. But, he didn’t want to do it at as a friend. He wanted to be able to lean over and kiss you on the lips whenever he felt like it, rather than having to settle for kisses on your forehead or cheek.

Eventually you both had to pull back for air, your breathing ragged as you looked up at him through your eyelashes, both of your cheeks flushed and a wide smile now on Harry’s face.

“Have no clue how long v’been wanting to do that,” and you couldn’t help but laugh as the words left his lips, because of course you did.

“Think I’ve been wanting you to do it even longer.”

All Harry did was smile, his thumb running along your cheekbone as he looked down at you, and he felt as if his heart was about to burst out of his chest.

“Does this mean ya’ mine? Cause I don’ wanna kiss and then neither of us talk about it and be confused. I’d really like for you to be mine,” his words were rushed as he spoke, and you could see his cheeks deepening, the blush creeping down his throat, and all you could do was wrap your arms around his waist and place your lips on his once more, hoping that was a good enough answer for him.

Maybe you didn’t hate periods so much anymore.

Were You Try to Piss Me Off?

Pairing:  Dom!Sam x Sub!Reader (Female)

Summary:   Sam and the Reader have been dancing around a kink they both share, so the reader pisses him off to see that side of him again.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Dirty talk, Language (probably say the f word like 200 times.) LOTS OF SMUT, OH MY CHUCK! Like a dom/sub relationship, fingering, oral (male receiving), sex, Angry!Sam. LIKE THIS IS SO DIRTY LOOK AWAY.

A/N: This is soooooo dirty. I was given a prompt and I don’t even know where I went with it. I’m so sorry. ANYWAY, this is for @kas-not-cas 2.5K Dialogue Challenge, and my prompt was: “Oh so you think I’m cute when I get angry? Well, get ready because I’m about to get gorgeous!” 

A/N 2: ALSO BIG BIG BIG SHOUT OUT TO MY BETA @highonpastries without her encouragement I honestly would never have posted this work of trash, so make sure you send her love!

(GIFs are not mine!)

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Punk (Chap. 4)

Originally posted by satanslifecoach

Summary: You’re head over heels for your best friend Bucky and hate the nickname he gave you as it doesn’t exactly scream romance.

Word count: 1878 

Warnings: Cursing, low-self esteem, chubby!reader x bucky, idk….

A/N:  Sorry for the long wait.  I needed some time.  I’ve got the next few chapters just about ready to go…and I’m gonna try and make them hurt ;) yay angst!


After Natasha successfully slammed you to the mat for the sixteenth time in a row you finally cried ‘uncle’ and ended the hour long workout/torture session.  You’d come here to kickbox and beat the holy hell out of a bag but a certain spider had other ideas.

“I deserve this,” you groaned.  Your chest heaved as your lungs strained for breath. The amorphous blob of a sweatshirt you insisted on wearing while exercising was soaked with sweat and made you feel as if you were slowly cooking in one of Hell’s saunas.  “This is why I hate exercising.”  Nat extended a hand to pull you to your feet but you shook your head dramatically on the mat.  “No, just leave me here to die.  I quit.  You go out and fight the good fight.  I’ll save my skills and start a nice, quiet dart league or somethin’.”  Natasha rolled her eyes and kicked your leg. “No, seriously.  I retire my knives to you.  My guns, throwing stars, all of it.  Take care of Ferd for me.  Tell him his mummy loved him,” you wailed with a huge fake sob.

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anonymous asked:

prompt request: a blizzard keeps jack and bitty trapped inside their apartment without any power. it's just them, blankets, and a fireplace. Maybe an old radio too. (alternately titled: i got my love to keep me warm)

[it’s snowing today, so this seemed appropriate! i hope you enjoy! <3]

It’s snowing. It’s been snowing since…well, Bitty honestly can’t remember when it started. Sometime the previous evening, he thinks, after he and Jack had made it back to Jack’s apartment after the game, the prospect of an off weekend spent together bright and shining before them.

Honestly, Bitty’s hard pressed to remember what the weather was like on the drive home, distracted as he was by the way the streetlights played off of Jack’s cheekbones, the way his eyes lit up as he looked at Bitty across the seat. The perfect curve of his smile and his hand and Bitty’s heart pumping with anticipation and the adrenaline of watching Jack win. All he’d wanted was to be back in the apartment, several floors and doors shutting out the rest of the world.

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Mirror and stone

Sameen’s voice in Farsi is liquid and gentle. At least, it seems that way to you now, hearing her speak for the first time, your head in her lap and your eyes closed. One hand weaves through your hair; the other holds her father’s battered copy of Rumi’s love poetry.

It’s late, but neither of you can sleep. The spring night is unseasonably warm, so you’ve folded back the sheets and are currently sweating in a tank top and a pair of boxers from Sameen’s drawer. Seemed fair to steal, since you’re the one who dropped off and picked up her laundry at the wash-and-fold around the corner. The shirt you’re wearing is old enough that, even freshly laundered, it smells like her.

You don’t know what the words mean; you simply let them wash over you and through you. Sameen reads limpidly, fluently, in musical phrases. She smooths hair over your temple, cards through the strands, winds a curl around her finger.

The heat is making your shoulder ache; the painkillers you reluctantly took have only just started to work through your body and soften your thoughts. None of that matters much now, with your cheek resting on Sameen’s inner thigh and her voice pouring over and into every part of you.

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