and-his-throat

BTS Reaction | Sleep Over

Sleeping over for the first time 


Kim Seokjin - 

It was his first time staying at yours and he was a little shy when you both got in bed not knowing to hug you or not. Should I cuddle her? No. Yes. No. Fuck yes. After an internal debate with himself in his head he just decided to put his arms around you and pull you close to him, putting your head on his chest you both fell asleep quite quickly.

“Night Jagiya”

Originally posted by couplenotes

Originally posted by bwiseoks


Min Yoongi -

He was in his bed waiting for you to come out of the bathroom. He was slightly nervous that you were staying round but didn’t show it. When he saw you come out of the bathroom in a tank top and shorts his throat got dry and he gulped. Fuck you look good. Not saying it out loud that he thought you looked hot. He opened the covers for you to slip in next to him he pulled you into a little spoon position and put his hand on your hip.

“We’re not moving out of this position for 15 hours, just a little heads up”

Originally posted by sensualkisses

Originally posted by seokjins-wings


Jung Hoseok -

He was excited that you were sleeping round telling everyone MY BABY GIRL IS SLEEPING OVER ASKOFDSOAKOF. Before bed the nerves kicked in whilst looking at your sleeping body, he really wanted to cuddle you but didn’t know if you were chill with that, so he kept his distance. That was until you turned around and wrapped your arms around him, burying your head in his chest.

“Awe, my baby is so cute”

Originally posted by pleasingpics

Originally posted by jaayhope


Kim Namjoon -

He’s quite chill at first acting like it was normal, everyday thing. That was until you were both in bed together and he didn’t know how to act. Do i put my arm round her? Do i leave her? asdfijifejojfo save me.mp3. After his internal debate with himself he glanced and saw that you had fallen asleep. He came to the conclusion that it wasn’t a big deal and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. When he felt you adjust yourself to get comfortable in his arms he smiled down at you in victory.

“Thank god for that”

Originally posted by symphonyofflavors

Originally posted by choke-me-namjoon


Park Jimin - 

Flustered is a word used kindly, he was blushing so much when you got in bed with him, his mind blanked. He froze up and didn’t move for the better of 20 minutes Fuck. He looks over at you and sees your chest rising and falling at a steady pace, knowing you were asleep put him at ease. When you roll over to face him his heart started racing and he started sweating. Then you put your arm around him and put your head in the crook of his neck. He calmed down and his breathing went back to normal falling asleep in mere minutes.

“Night baby” 

Originally posted by kissing-pleasure

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin


Kim Taehyung - 

Excited. Jumping around happy on the bed with you, you both have similar personalities which is why you clicked. Going to sleep was easy because he’s not one to shy away from cuddles, so when you got in bed he immediately pulled you on top of him and you both fell asleep quickly. No shyness here.

“Cuddle meeeeeee”

Originally posted by sensualquotes

Originally posted by bangtanroyalty


Jeon Jungkook - 

Shy bunny is shy. He was so nervous not knowing what to do, when you asked if he wanted to stay round he didn’t think he was gonna freeze as soon as you got in bed with him. Knowing that you noticed him freezing up he panicked fuck she’s going to think i’m a pussy. But then he felt your arms wrap around his waist pulling him on top of you. Placing his face in your neck he inhaled deeply to calm his nerves, your light touches on his neck helped. You both fell asleep soon after.

“Night baby, thank you”

Originally posted by kissing-pleasure

Originally posted by nochuie

| Gifs posted are not mine, credit to the owners |

Requests open 

anonymous asked:

I wonder if Dark's neck is broken and his magic keeps it from getting worse. Maybe thats why Dark does the neck thing. Damien said did say that our body (now Dark's) is broken and we did fall from the stairs while looking up . . Now I'm just imagining Dr. Iplier doing a check up on Dark only to find his neck broken and maybe a few other things as well.

((Now, I have a few of my own wonderances for this that are different, but then you went and mentioned my doctor boy and damn it I like the way you think, mysterious configuration of being. Did you intend for this to become a thing? Because it is now. And sorry this took so long. It wasn’t quite turning out the way I wanted it to - in fact, I think it’s a god awful mess - but I hope you enjoy anyway!))

Warnings: Minor Graphic Detail, Mild Blood


It had started when Dark felt something move up into his lungs. It had been subtle, ignorable, and there had been no pain, not that something like him could feel any such physicalities anymore, so he had let it go in favor of getting on with his day. There had been much to do, idiots to manage, and the awareness had completely faded into the ether when there had been yet another kitchen fire that he personally had to see to.

And there the notion remained, until a cough brought it right back.

It was nothing; just something thoughtless, knee-jerk, and while he didn’t cough often if ever, it was still very ignorable. It twinged, like an itch from the inside, but a single, quiet cough was more than enough to alleviate the feeling once more. He didn’t have time for it. If King left one more peanut butter covered pinecone in the ceiling again, he was going to kick the pseudo monarch out for good. And Artiplier too for teaching that to him.    

But it as the day wore on, so too did the coughing become more common. He kept it subtle, having to mindfully push the feeling down now, because goddamn it Wilford had let Silver leap off another building again while he filmed it and, while the injuries this time were trivial, he was going to break something again, if he didn’t just outright kill himself next time and - are you even listening Wilford?

The pastel being had been giving him a strange look the entire time during his tirade and, at first he had chalked it up to the flippant man not listening as per usual, but it was only now in the irritated silence that he could hear exactly what was wrong.

Dark had been coughing the entire time.  

Suddenly, the itch was back with a vengeance, and he wasn’t sure when he had turned away with his mouth in his hands, racking coughs shaking his entire form, but there he was, hunched over with his back to Wilford as he desperately tried to get it under control. He felt a steadying hand on his back, heard his name called a few times in obvious concern, but his ears were filled with a high pitched ring that grew and cancelled all other noise until, with pop he felt more than heard, something within him finally gave. He choked suddenly, nearly gagging, as he felt something solid move up his throat to land sharply his tongue. It tasted sweet and smokey.

And metallic.

It took a short time and after a few seconds of aftershocks, his form stilled as the urge finally faded away. As the ringing died down, he could finally hear Wilford ask about his health again with a level of concern he hadn’t heard in ages from him, but, for the time being Dark could only ignore it, taking a handkerchief from his trouser pocket and spitting into it. He only saw for a moment before he pinched the cloth closed, hiding the object and everything that came with it from Wilford. But it had been more than enough for he himself to notice one very concerning detail.  

Everything had been red.

He straightened up, quickly pressing the kerchief into his breast pocket in a single subtle movement as he fixed his suit - giving his neck a quick readjust as well - before sparing Wilford a glance and a few words of comfort as he excused himself. He could see out the corner of his eye as Wilford looked like he wanted to persist, but Dark was out of sight before the pink ego could get out another word.

And it was here and now he found himself in the doctor’s office, perched upon the man’s own rolling stool instead of one of the many available beds - Wilford may have been content to let his legs dangle like a child, but Dark refused to be so undignified - waiting as the doctor looked over the proffered cloth with a scrutinizing eye. He was hemming and hawing and it was beginning to irk the already rather keyed-up demon, but before Dark could offer the physician a single chance to shut up or else, the doctor turned around to face him with an interesting level of curiosity in his eyes.

“Well?” Dark prompted, hands folded over his crossed knees, his posture stiff as it usually was, even if the reasons weren’t the same.

“I’d say this is part of a bullet,” The doctor offered in return, holding the now clean piece out to him in a pair of surgical tweezers. It was chalky grey in color. “This came out of you?”

“I don’t supposed I’d be here if it didn’t,” Dark quipped back flatly, but his interest had been piqued. A bullet fragment? When had he been…

Oh. Right.

“Fair enough. Who had the mettle to shoot you anyway? Was it Wilford?” The question was flippant, joking even, though with an undertone of implication because honestly the doctor had seen that particular instance more often than not, but it still hit Dark like an open palmed slap to the face. He could already feel the memories stirring, some of which did not even belong to him, and it took everything within him not to let his shell crack in that particular moment because if it did, he knew the consequences would be far more dire than with what had become the normal variety.

However, in a multitude of seconds that felt like an eternity, Dark managed to quell the feelings and disguise them as a single, solitary, disinterested sigh. At least, he hoped it came across that way.    

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I suppose not,” The doctor relented, either ignoring or oblivious to Dark’s pause as his attention returned to the lead fragment. Ignorance really was bliss. “But it obviously didn’t happen recently. See the flaky grey on the surface here? It’s started to corrode, which only happens after a long time exposure to types of alkali which doesn’t really - ”

“Correct,” Dark interrupted curtly, not at all interested in a chemistry lesson. “It wasn’t recent, but why is it happening now?”

Dr. Iplier shrugged, looking mildly put off for being interrupted, but true to his apathetic nature he let it go and pressed on. “Sometimes things just remain unmoved inside the body for years. I’d imagine it may have just been close by and, for whatever reason, just didn’t show itself until now. More to the concerning point, there are probably more in you that you aren’t aware of. Would you permit an x-ray?”

Now there was a question Dark hadn’t prepared himself for. It seemed absurd that he was thrown by such a simple request, and yet he couldn’t help balking about it all the same. What would be captured on that photo? What could be captured on that photo? He couldn’t afford to end the doctor if something more than what was currently happening turned up. The physician was quite the invaluable resource after all, especially for his blatant disregard of prying details. But all the same, it would be handy to know if this could potentially happen again, especially in front of others.

Especially in front of Will.

And it was with that argument that the demon finally begrudgingly agreed.

It was a surprisingly quick process and Dark was back in the stolen chair sans suit jacket and tie after just a few minutes. And it was only a few more before the doctor was shoving two freshly printed sheets of film into place on the light board before flicking the switch to illuminate them.

Now that was quite a sight. Seeing a set of bones and organs that he knew he himself had shaped was a curious thing, especially with the previous wonderance that, while his outward appearance may have taken appropriate form, his inward one may not have. And while he realized this was a silly contradiction, it had still held concern in his mind for a secret that nobody else could ever know about. Thankfully though, this didn’t seem to be the case.

But ever more curious were the lit up white spots speckled throughout his abdomen, and he couldn’t help but stare. He counted at least five, and none as big as the one that had so rudely extricated itself from him earlier. They didn’t even seem to be near anything necessarily vital either.

Not that that fact mattered anymore really.

So absorbed was he that he didn’t notice the doctor turn to him with a new level of concern, and Dark most probably would have continued to disregard him had he not made a rather urgent and out of place sounding request.

“Turn around,” The doctor demanded suddenly, his face taking on a panicky sort of grimness.

“Pardon?” Dark returned, surprised to find himself lost. That didn’t happen often.

“Turn around,” Dr. Iplier said more slowly, but with no less urgency than before. “I need to see your neck.”

“Whatever for?” Dark had an inkling exactly what for.    

“See this vertebra here?” The doctor impatiently poked his finger into the very top of the second x-ray, right next to his neck and that’s when Dark saw it. Damn. “That’s supposed to be nestled up to the bottom of your skull. Not to mention all these little white lines running everywhere else are microfractures.”

“And?” Dark asked with an air of disinterest.  

“Dark,” Dr. Iplier beseeched with exasperated concern. “Your neck’s broken.”

There was a beat before the demon responded with a simple and very dry, “Yes, I’m acutely aware.”

“And you’ve just been living this way?” That was a funny way to put it, but Dark refrained from commenting. “What the hell happened to you?”

The silence that followed was filled only with the hum of the x-ray display light.

Now that was a loaded question, and with the doctor looking down at him now with all the concern of a close friend, with almost the same face to match, it was reminding him too much of times he wanted to forget.

Times of when, during late nights at the office, a bespectacled face would just appear at the other end of his desk in the way only he could, wearing a knowing smile and bearing something to eat because he would often forget.

Times when that same face was sad for some unknown reason that just could not be spoken about, so he took it upon himself to cheer the man up with silly antics the same way he did for him.

Times where he would get so angry he would yell at the man just to come back later to apologize only to realize that no offense had been taken in the first place and their friendship was just the same as it had ever been.

… A single time where that face was on the verge of breaking entirely, and Dark could see him now, reaching out as he fell, the words echoing in his ears along with a hauntingly familiar, harsh ring.

Wait, that one wasn’t his.

“It was an accident! I swear!”  

He needed to leave.  

“Nothing that matters anymore,” Dark responded briskly, standing to pick up his coat and tie from the nearby bed and throwing them on with well-practiced grace. “Thank you for your time, doctor.”

“Now hold on a damn minute,” Dr. Iplier stepped forward as if he wanted to grab Dark’s shoulder, but then thought better of it at the last second. “I can’t just let you walk out of here knowing that you could keel over at any given moment.”

“I assure you that that’s no longer a problem.” Dark waved away impatiently, already turning toward the door.

“Your neck though! And all of that uncomfortable twisting I’ve seen you do. Those readjustments can’t be good for you. Aren’t you afraid of waking up one day and being completely paralyzed?”

“I defer to my previous statement.”

The doctor made a frustrated noise. “At least let me take care of the bullet fragments. How you haven’t suffered lead poisoning by now is a miracle.”

Dark sighed, turning back to the physician with a look of impassiveness. He knew the man wasn’t exactly heartless, but Dark honestly hadn’t expected him to be so insistent about his health. “Doctor, your concern is appreciated - truly - but going by that picture, I don’t see anymore near my lungs, so you have my word that it will be fine.”

“And what will happen when it isn’t?” Dr. Iplier fired back. He was implying more than just a health issue and the acknowledgment that Dark actually was a leader in all of this wasn’t missed. 

“Then I suppose I have you to deal with the aftermath,” Dark replied wryly.

Dr. Iplier made a face. Apparently he was the only one allowed to make apathetic jokes in the face of a potential crisis. “That’s not funny. I’m not an EMT, Dark.”

“I have faith in you, doctor. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I never finished forbidding Wilford from encouraging acts of tragedy ‘for the sake of the show’ and would like to get back to it before someone else unwittingly winds up in your care.”

Dr. Iplier looked like he wanted to argue his point, but even he knew when to stop pressing - or perhaps that was just the lethargy - and he sighed, the sound heavy and laden with a weariness that Dark was all too familiar with. “Very well. Just… don’t hesitate to come back if any of it bothers you, alright?”

“You have my word.” And with that, Dark strode out with much more on his mind than he had going in. Of course the bullet would still be in there, shattered as it was. He wasn’t sure why it had never occurred to him. Just because his appearance had changed, didn’t mean the body had. It was the same principle as his unhealing neck, even if neither experience had happened to him directly. He was cursed to a nearly broken body that didn’t belong to him, held together with whatever power Celine had used and that void had bestowed upon him, physicalities stuck in a permanent state of stasis.

But he had no time for self pity. He had a building to oversee, and a goal to maintain.  

And as Dark walked purposefully down and out of the hall, he didn’t see the man he was looking for, hiding just out of sight in a nook beside the door, frozen in place with eyes wide and an otherworldly flower clutched to his barely breathing chest.

Wilford had just wanted to check on his friend. To make sure he was okay because never before had Dark’s health ever come into question, and the coughing fit had scared him so much more deeply than anything else had in a very long time. But while he was on the way to barging in, he’d heard his name and then… He’d heard everything else.

His mind swam, memories stirring in the watery depths like ancient beasts, lashing out against him a tirade of blurry and out of order images.  

A gunshot, a choke, a scream that seemed to echo from the very depths of his soul. 

He couldn’t be. He wasn’t.

The flower fell from his trembling fingers.  

He wasn’t a killer… was he?

Lie to me - Dean Winchester x Reader - Chapter 12 (French Mistake AU)

Title: Lie to me

Pairing: Dean/Jensen x Reader x Sam

Word Count: … oh no

Warnings: None

Imagine: Imagine Dean and Sam getting transported to the French Mistake universe. Only for Dean to realize he is married to you, his best friend, love of his life and… Sam’s girlfriend.

Great thank you to @gaveherhearttotheliontattoo for being an amazing beta!

Also, @iavengesuperwholock is going to be writing a similar story as this, if you want to check another one out!

Read Part 1 here! l Read Part 2 here! l Read Part 3 here! l Read Part 4 here!l Read Part 5 here! l Read Deleted Scene here! l Read Part 6 here! l Read Part 7 here! l Read Part 8 here! l Read Part 9 here! l Read Part 10 here! l Read Part 11 here!

She kissed him.”

“Who?” he blinked, pulling away to look at you “What are you talking about?”

“I-” you pursed your lips, blinking when the sentence kept being repeated in your mind. You could still take it back, you could change the subject or shake it off but-

“(Y/n)” you said in a soft voice and the frown on his face made you realize he had not heard a thing, so you cleared your throat and took a deep breath “(Y/n). (Y/n) kissed Jensen, my husband Jensen. Who… is in your place in the Supernatural universe in- in your body.” you couldn’t help the small stuttering but you kept your voice firm so that he could listen to every word. He needed to know before he made any decision.

“Wh-what?” his voice was significantly more rough “How do you know that?” his eyes were slightly wide, and you could almost see he was holding his breath.

“I’ve been having these visions, dreams into your universe, Dean. Moments your (Y/n) lives and shares with Jared and Jensen, and I know she’s been experiencing the same thing. I struggled to understand it too and I- I don’t know how to feel. I mean it is still Jensen, my husband, and I-” you laughed humorlessly “Am I jealous? I- I think I am. Gosh, I am jealous of my own self. Wow this is messed up. But-” you cleared your throat. 

Keep reading

A Whole Year of Sanders Sides

Description: It’s been a whole year since Sanders Sides started, but Virgil hadn’t yet been introduced. Here’s how he feels about that, and how the others make him feel more included. 

Genre: hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1,329

Ship: platonic/familial LAMP

Warnings: very brief and not at all serious mention of m*rder. just in case

A/N: i suck at formatting dialogue and i wrote this super fast so it’s not my best work. hope ya’ll enjoy it anyway


“Can you believe today is the day we were introduced to Thomas’ fans? It’s been a whole year!” Roman exclaimed causing the other three to look up at him.

Logan merely hummed in response; a thoughtful look on his face. Virgil pulled up his hood, and shrunk into his hoodie. Today was not his day. They tried their best to avoid introducing him to the fanders because he wasn’t wanted back then. He had to force his way in, and that really hurt. His day wouldn’t be until December. Not like the others will care very much.

“That’s awesome, kiddo! We should celebrate! Ooh I’ll make cookies!” Patton yelled as he scurried into the kitchen.

Roman chuckled as he watched him go then plopped himself down in between Logan, and Virgil. Virgil turned away, and prayed to god that he wouldn’t talk to him. Virgil’s prayers never really get answered unfortunately.

“What’s up with you, edge lord?”

Virgil sighed, and shrugged hoping that would suffice as an answer, but Roman was never that easy to fool.

“Something’s clearly wrong. Come on talk to me.”

“It’s stupid,” Virgil mumbled, and shrunk further into his hoodie. “Just forget about it.”

Roman scoffed, and placed a hand over his heart as if he was offended.

“Please, Virgil. You should know by now that we’re not going to forget about something if it’s troubling you.”

“Really? You forgot that today’s not my day so why wouldn’t you?” Virgil mumbled under his breath. Roman raised his eyebrows at the younger side as he turned to fully face him.

“Virgil you have to speak up. I can’t hear you.”

Virgil abruptly stood up startling the two sides. He took a deep breath, 4 7 8, before turning to face them.

“I said you forgot that today’s not my day! My day’s in December because you guys wouldn’t let me be apart of the videos! I had to sneak away, and force myself in! I wasn’t..I wasn’t wanted so today’s just a grim reminder of that for me. But whatever. Have your fun. I won’t be a bother.”

Virgil’s yelling brought Patton out of the kitchen to see what was going on, but it was too late. Virgil had sunk down to his room. Patton turned to look at the two shocked sides on the couch, and frowned.

“We’re.. awful!” Patton cried. Logan immediately stood up, and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“No, Patton. Roman, and I are the awful ones-”

“Hey!”

Logan gave Roman a quick glare before continuing, “You always tried to include him in things. We were the ones keeping him away at first. Just.. let us talk to him, okay?”

Patton sniffled, and nodded as he sat down on the couch where Logan once was. Roman gave him a small smile before standing up, and facing Logan.

“To Anxiety’s room?” Roman asked.

“To Anxiety’s room.” Logan confirmed.

And with that they sunk down together.

Once they popped up in Virgil’s room they took a moment to collect themselves then started to call out for the anxious side.

“Virgil, please come here. We wish to speak with you.” Logan tried.

Just as Roman was about to try Virgil popped up on the stairs, and startled the both of them.

“Didn’t you idiots learn anything about coming into my room?”

Logan cleared his throat, and adjusted his tie as he spoke, “Yes, well we don’t plan to stay very long. We’ve only come to retrieve you so we may all talk in the common room.”

“Yeah, not happening. Just go celebrate, or whatever you’re doing. I’m fine.”

“Ugh, Virgil. Come on. Stop being so stubborn, and just talk to us. We’re sorry we forgot, and we’re especially sorry we even put you through all of that in the first place! Truly. What we did was awful, and we deeply regret it. You’re a good friend, nay, you’re family! Please just believe that, and let us explain ourselves before I lose it! I’m not feeling very glittery right now, and I don’t like it!” Roman ranted, and frantically looked between the two sides.

“Roman is correct. We are family, and sometimes family messes up. Sometimes family shun each other for being different, or even kill each other! Wow, okay, sorry, but my point still stands. Ehh, sort of. Look, everyone makes mistakes, and we’re trying to fix those mistakes!” Logan added on. Virgil looked at them as if they had three heads, and noticed the darkening eyeshadow underneath their eyes. Yep, time to leave.

“God, you morons. Come on. Deep breaths. We’re getting out of here.”

“Four seconds..”

“Seven seconds..”

“Eight seconds..”

Virgil slowly sunk down as the other two did, and popped back up in the common room with them. Patton immediately stood up, and tackled Virgil into a hug so forcefully that they toppled over.

“I’m so sorry, kiddo!” Patton cried into Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil chuckled, and patted him on the back.

“It’s fine, dad. You were always there for me.” Virgil replied, but still felt tears forming in his eyes. Logan, and Roman exchanged a guilty look.

They both walked over to the pair to help them up. Roman pried Patton off, and Logan offered a hand to Virgil who reluctantly took it.

An awkward silence filled the air once they were all standing. Roman decided to be the brave one to break it.

“We truly are sorry, Virgil.”

Virgil shrugged, and pulled his hood down so he could look at all of them better.

“Yeah, whatever. It’s fine.”

“We will make it up to you.”

Virgil turned to look at Logan incredulously, but smiled nonetheless.

Before they knew it December 19th rolled around. The day Virgil first appeared in a video.

“Virgil! It’s your day!” Roman yelled as he practically dragged the younger out of his room, and sunk down to the commons.

“Geez, Princey. Give a guy some warning before you go dragging him around.” Virgil grumbled with an amused smile on his face to show he wasn’t actually annoyed. No, in fact he was thoroughly enjoying this.

Once in the common room Virgil had to bite back a gasp at what he saw.

“Impressed?” Roman teased, “It was all my work. You’re welcome.”

Before them was a huge blanket fort, one big enough for four people to be exact, and a ton of snacks. The tv played the menu for Virgil’s favorite Disney movie: The Black Cauldron. He’s seen it about a million times, but it’s the thought that counts. They thought of him. Today was his day, and they actually cared.

Before Virgil could stop himself he tackled Roman into a hug, and almost allowed himself to cry. Roman merely chuckled, and held Virgil as close as he could. They only broke apart when the other two came into the room, but Virgil was nowhere near done with his hugs. He tackled Patton next as he whispered, “Thank you dad.”

“Aw it was mostly Logan, and Roman, but I’d do anything for you kiddo! I’m glad you like it.”

With that Virgil pulled away, and turned to look at Logan. Logan smiled, and opened his arms. Virgil gratefully fell into his arms, and this time he let himself cry. This time he let the hug go on for much longer. Not that either of them minded. Logan, and Virgil rarely ever hugged each other, or anyone really, so this was nice.

Once they finally pulled apart Patton pulled Virgil down into the pillow fort, and wrapped his arm around him. Roman played the movie, and sat on the other side of him. Logan sat down next to Roman.

Patton turned to Virgil, and asked, “This isn’t too overwhelming is it, kiddo?”

“No. It’s perfect.”

And everything really was perfect. It had been a whole year of self discovery, love, and acceptance. A whole year of Virgil, and his family.

A whole year of Sanders Sides.

Keep reading

Kinktober2017 Day 17: Costume Kink with Klance

Haha! I’m finally catching up with the actual date now! 


Keith had been embarrassed many times in his life. One time, he had fallen asleep in his class at the garrison and apparently made some very…humiliating…noises. Just recently, he had been rambling on to Shiro about everything Lance did that drove him crazy, and had accidentally blurted out that he had the biggest crush on him. God, that had been mortifying as fuck. But right now? Right now, Keith was the most embarrassed he had ever been in his life.

“Come on, just do it. Just mewl for me - it’ll be so cute,” Lance encouraged, leaning forward on the bed and cupping Keith’s chin with a smirk.

Keith wanted to recoil and hide in embarrassment, his face redder than his lion. “L-Lance…I’m already wearing these things…why do I need to do more?” He gestured at his cat ear headband and the cat tail he had strapped around his waist, shuffling anxiously on his knees and hugging his naked body self-consciously.

Lance’s hand moved up to cup his cheek and scratch the side of his head a little, and he instinctively leaned into it with a very powerful urge to do what Lance was telling him to do. “Come on, kitten. Do it - oh wow, that’s so cute…” He trailed off as Keith purred into the head scratches, eyes shut in bliss as his heart thumped against his chest. He hoped this was good enough to satisfy his kinky ass lover, purring louder when Lance’s scratches got harder. It felt so good.

“Babe, kitten, you’re so cute. Come on, just one mewl,” Lance urged, scooting forward a bit to observe Keith’s heavily blushing face more.

Keith’s lip trembled from how embarrassed he was, slowly shaking his head in defiance. That was too much. Going that far…no way could Keith do it. He would die from embarrassment.

“Come on, kitten. If you do it, I’ll get straight to fucking you.” Keith’s face just reddened even more at that as Lance winked at him, striking multiple arrows through his heart. This boy was going to be the death of Keith. Still, as much as his body was longing for Lance, he was too embarrassed right now to be swayed that easily by lust alone.

Lance frowned upon seeing that his temptation didn’t work, moving his hand down to scratch Keith’s chin. The costumed boy made more purring sounds, waggling his hips a bit as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the scratches. He wasn’t even purring on purpose - it was just coming out.

“Keith…” He opened his eyes to meet Lance’s adoring blue ones. “Do it…for me?”

Keith was so fucked. Just like that, it was over, and he knew it. Lance knew it. His kitty ears knew it. Everyone knew it. Lust couldn’t make him do things, but he was so weak for loverboy Lance it was almost sad. He was ready to cry in embarrassment, but his heart won out, and he slowly looked away from Lance.

And then, he made a soft, high-pitched mewling sound that broke both of them at the same time, for very different reasons.

Lance’s scratching stopped momentarily as Keith finally moved his hands up to his face to hide himself, finally creating the number one most embarrassing moment of his entire life. He wanted to just crawl under a blanket and hide for the rest of his life, it was so mortifying, it was so-

“Cute.”

Keith slowly parted his fingers to glance at Lance, face reddening when he saw how red Lance’s face was. They were both just two red, blushing messes as they eyed each other, the temperature of the room rising exponentially. Keith’s heart was pounding so loudly he was sure they could both hear it as he waited for Lance to make a move.

“…you’re so cute, Keith.” Lance moved in quickly and captured Keith’s lips in his own, making Keith gasp in surprise. He shut his eyes, heart melting even more as Lance wrapped an arm around him and scratched the back of his head and his fake ears. The kiss was passionate yet innocent at the same time - just the two of them expressing their love for each other.

When Lance did pull away, he slid his arms down Keith’s body before turning him around, a smirk back on his face and replacing his embarrassed one from earlier.

“Lance…?” Keith breathed out, eyes glazed over with a million different emotions - each one of them tied to Lance in some way.

The Cuban boy’s hands brushed past Keith’s tail before rubbing his ass sensually and adoringly. “I told you, didn’t I? I said I’d get straight to fucking you after you mewl for me.”

He wasn’t really sure how his head hadn’t exploded at this point as Lance’s tongue grazed over his hole, sending shivers throughout his entire body and wasting no time in getting to prepping him. Apparently it was a talent of his to get super embarrassed to the point of having a heart attack without dying. He was, however, incredibly excited for what was about to happen as Lance attacked his hole, tongue ravishing him and wetting him and spreading him. One hand was helping to hold his cheeks open while the other one was casually playing with the base of Keith’s tail, reminding him that he was Lance’s kitten. He didn’t even mind the costume anymore, at least for right now, as he shut his eyes and moaned in response to Lance’s tongue being inside him.

“Lance…” He whispered, shaking his ass slightly to tempt him more. It worked; Lance began tongue fucking him faster and more eagerly, sending waves of intimate pleasure through his body and getting him more excited by the second. The more lubed up he was getting, the quicker they approached actual sex.

He let his heavy breaths come out in pants as he took Lance’s mouth joyously, purring and humming in satisfaction. In no time at all, Lance had pulled back and mounted Keith from behind, nibbling against his ear and drawing out more moans from him.

“You’ve been such a good kitty, Keith. God, you’re such a good kitty. I want to reward you now. I’m going to reward you now, ‘kay?” Lance’s voice was so damn hot and promising, and Keith was fucking weak for it.

He mewled in response. Again. He just couldn’t help it - he wanted to drive Lance as crazy as he was driving him, and mewling was the only thing he could think of to do that. And it worked.

Lance sucked his breath in, cursing under his breath as he pushed the tip of his cock in without any further hesitation, groaning at the tightness.

Keith was taken aback by the initial pain of the stretch, but his body began quickly adjusting and getting used to it, and he leaned his head back into Lance’s shoulder to give him permission to slowly continue.

“You know, this suits you so…ha…well,” Lance said, talking straight into Keith’s ear as he slid his cock further inside Keith’s wet hole. “Seeing you beneath me like this, dressed up how you are, mewling, fuck it’s so amazing…I want to wreck you so bad…”

Keith nearly sobbed upon hearing that, wanting Lance to do unspeakably dirty things to him so, so badly. “Yes Lance, wreck me!” He pleaded, gulping and shutting his eyes to close himself off to the rest of his sanity. In this moment, it was just him and Lance. Embarrassment no longer existed. He would do and say what his body wanted as he felt Lance bury himself completely inside, stopping to let them both rest for a moment.

“You’re really…really fucking tight inside…seriously, this little hole you got back here won’t ever get old. I love every part of you so fucking much, kitten.” Lance began kissing the back of Keith’s head and the side of his face, insistent on showing just how much he loved Keith.

As much as he loved the tenderness, Keith also needed some roughness right now, too. “I love you too, Lance…now please…fuck me. You can move now, you can do whatever you want, just fuck me!”

Lance paused in his kissing before grinning at Keith, beginning to pull his hips back. His arms wrapped around Keith’s torso, getting ready to use his entire body as anchorage for one hard thrust. “As you wish, kitten.” His hips rammed forward, pulling against Keith’s body to launch his cock inside with as much force as possible, and Keith literally felt like his insides shook from how hard Lance’s dick hit him.

“Again, god Lance, more!” Keith cried out, repositioning his arms on the bed for better support to prepare himself for the next thrust. It didn’t work. Lance put so much power into each thrust, using Keith’s entire body to add more force into it, that it literally knocked Keith’s arms out from beneath him, forcing his entire front half to drop. This only made his ass jump higher into the air, much to Lance’s pleasure.

“Aw, getting your ass up for me? Such a good kitty. Let me give you a nice treat!” Lance’s sweet talk ended with a grunt as he began fucking Keith with more consistency, nesting the head of his cock as deep inside Keith as was possible time and time again.

Keith would never get tired of feeling Lance’s cock reaching so far into him with so much brute force, doing his best to clench his walls to provide him with as much pleasure as possible. At this point their fucking got messy, both boys relying on their lustful instincts as Lance rammed into him with sheer sexual desire. Keith loved every second of it, mindlessly begging him for more.

“Fuck, Lance, fuck me! P-please! Give me what I…deserve!”

Lance was moaning in pleasure as his balls slapped Keith’s ass with every thrust, squeezing his torso more as he propelled his cock into him with more force. “Show me…fuck! Show me what you deserve, kitten! Mewl for me again! Be a good kitty, and I’ll give you the reward you fucking deserve!” As if to give him more motivation, Lance slammed into Keith’s prostate, immediately making Keith scream in electrifying pleasure.

“Lance! Fuck yes! Oh god Lance!” Keith clawed at the bedsheet desperately, bucking his ass back as much as he could, his chest pressed down against the mattress. He swallowed down the accumulating saliva in his throat before letting out a stream of pleading mewls. “Please…fuck me…give me…LANCE!” His soft whimpers turned into screams all over again as Lance kicked things up a notch, ramming into Keith’s prostate with every thrust and sending them both into a flurry passion and ecstasy. Their names slipped from each other’s mouths over and over again as they lost themselves in the primal lust and pleasures of their bodies.

“Keith…god, I’m gonna cum, Keith! I’m gonna cum inside you!”

Hearing Lance say that sent shockwaves through Keith’s body, driving his ecstasy over the edge as pleasure tore through him. He was going to cum untouched, from just having Lance fucking him. Keith wanted this more than he wanted anything else in that moment as he clenched his fists around the sheets and thrust his hips back with desperation.

“I’m so close Lance…so close…please! Make me cum, Lance!” He turned to look at his lover with pleading eyes, and that seemed to do the trick as Lance moved his hands down to seize Keith’s hips, burying his cock into his body and letting out a loud moan as he came.

“Cum with me, kitten! Cum! FUCK!”

Between his speaking and the feeling of Lance’s hot cum gushing into him, the stimulation Keith was receiving was too much for his body to handle, and he immediately felt his cock twitching with release.

“Lance!” He pressed his head back into Lance’s shoulder as he came with him. “Lance, cumming!” Those were the only comprehensible words he could get out before his voice transitioned into a cry of pure bliss, ass contracting around Lance’s cock like a vice grip and milking him for everything he was worth as Keith’s orgasm hit him like a brick. Both of their voices rang out together as they rode out their peaks, body temperatures hot enough to melt into each other.

When the mind blowing pleasure started to die down, Keith let out a couple of breathy mewls, which caused Lance to groan and shoot another small load into him. Both of them were trying to remember how to breathe, though, panting with their red faces side by side.

Lance finally pulled out of Keith so that he could collapse onto his side on the bed, dragging a yelping Keith down with him and spooning him despite their current body heat.

“Lance…can’t I at least take this stuff off?” Keith complained, but he was too tired after their session to sound very convincing, instead simply snuggling back closer against Lance.

His boyfriend chuckled. “But you look so cuuuute…plus, you played the part of kitten way better than I thought you would. I think it suits you.”

Keith blushed, remembering how to feel embarrassed again now that he wasn’t riding out his lust for Lance. They both shut their eyes as Lance’s arms wrapped around his torso, and they began to drift off to sleep. That was when Keith suddenly wondered why Lance wanted him to dress as a cat boy in the first place, since he never explained…

“…Lance?”

“…what is it, babe?”

“…you’re a fucking furry, aren’t you?”

Lance ‘fell asleep’ before answering, whether voluntary or not.

Another Lonely Night

Dark approached Wilford several times.

Only once did he ever show any form of memory towards what they went through. And that reaction was not something Dark intended.

In a way, it made Dark happy. It made him happy that his friend did not have to remember and endure the pain like he did.

But in another way it hurt him that no one could know. No one should have known. None of them needed to go through or even hear about that fateful day.

When everyone discovered, Dark hated the pity. He hated the fact that they all stared at him like a three legged dog.

Every so often he would be asked, “Are you okay?” And he would roll his eyes and continue onward. The truth was, Dark had not been asked that question in a very long time. The truth was that there once existed a time where he was so desperate to speak about the events, he attempted to approach Wilford.

Warfstache was in his room doing who-knows-what, when Dark slowly opened the door.

“Hm? Who is it?” He said as he turned towards the door. His eyes popped open much wider the minute he saw who was standing in the doorway.

“Hello, Wil.” Dark whispered. No one would notice it, but the rings under his eyes had become more defined, and his aura flickered just a tad more than usual.

“What do ya’ want?” Wilford groaned. He was tired of taking orders.

“I would like to see you in my office, actually.” Dark used his tone to his advantage, making himself sound powerful and fierce.

Wilford looked like a student who had just been busted for a class prank.

He looked around the room desperately as if there was someone else there to blame.

Me?” He pointed a finger towards his chest.

Dark gave a nod.

In one swift motion Dark slammed the door shut and headed back into his office.

“What are we doing?!” A voice said through his mouth.

“I don’t know! It just–happened!” A female voice left his throat. His lips did not move.

The door opened.

Wilford walked in with suspicion. He was expecting some form of trap or trick.

Dark recollected himself.

“So uh…. What did you want to talk about?” Wilford checked the chair across from Dark’s desk before he sat down.

“Well, I’m worried about you, Wil.” Dark clasped his hands gently on the desk, “Your bad habits are becoming one of the more dominant features within your behavior,” Dark tilted his head, “I just want to help.”

“Okay,” Wilford was dragged in. He readjusted himself in his chair, making himself comfortable just as he was sure Dark persuaded. “What were you thinking about?”

“Why don’t you try remembering,” Dark’s sly tone began creeping into his voice. “Remember why you do what you do. Remember what caused you to go astray from the path you once walked.”

Wil was convinced for a moment. He sat in a daze as Dark’s voice washed over him like a cold breeze.

Then he snapped out of it.

“Now listen here,” Wilford stood up from the chair, shaking Dark’s voice out of his head. “I can’t let you do that to me,”

Dark was loosing his cool.

“What are you talking about?” Dark’s voice changed. But it wasn’t the deeper, more hypnotic voice. It became a much lighter version of the way he usually spoke. “I just want to reminisce,” He began sounding desperate, clawing at any remains of a broken past that he no longer wished to remember alone. “Like old friends.”

His voice was no longer his own. It was Damien’s.

“Can’t we just talk? We used to go on and on about your trials and tribulations in war, and our experiences, and out loves, and our losses!”

Damien reached.

Wil couldn’t reach that far.

Why can’t you just remember William?!” His hand slammed on the desk. “All I want is for everything I lost to come back to me! I just want this back!”

Wilford stood up with a worried expression on his face.

He was planning on alerting the Googles, but he made a poor attempt of acting casual as he backed away towards the door.

“Wait!” Another voice interrupted.

It was a woman’s.

Dark’s lips hadn’t moved.

Wilford stopped dead in his tracks.

“Who was that?” He felt beads of sweat drip down his forehead.

Celine and Damien were both reaching now, both stretching their arms as far as their bodies would let them.

Their fingertips brushed against Wil’s. They tried to stretch forward even further.

The only problem is that Wilford was not ready to remember.

And he didn’t know if he ever would be.

“I said,” Wilford growled, “Who was that?” His hand reached for his pocket.

Dark’s mouth hung open for a moment.

“It was no one.” He replied calmly, “You probably just heard someone else yelling. You should probably go,” He hesitated for a moment before saying, “And forget about everything we just talked about.”

Dark’s aura flickered a few times.

Damien and Celine pulled their hands away.

Dark lost more of the color in his already grey skin.

This time Wilford let Dark persuade him, merely because he wanted to believe that the familiar but distant voice he just heard was nobody.

“Yeah,” Wilford let his hand hang at his side. “Yeah. You’re probably right,” He chuckled, “Well, I’ll be heading out.”

Dark gave a solemn nod as Wilford headed out the door.

Damien and Celine were forced to spend another lonely night together.

Interruptions || Peter Parker Imagine

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 1,274 words

Request:  Heyo! I was wondering if I could get an Steve rogers dad! X Peter Parker x reader. Where the reader and Peter Parker are dating and Steve finds them making out and he kinda gets angry. He then awkwardly gives them the talk and it’s just weird and awkward between all of them?

A/N- poorly edited, whoops 

masterlist

Originally posted by tbholland


Being the daughter of a ninety something year old super soldier wasn’t exactly easy for Y/N. She was born long after Steve had received the serum from Howard Stark, that gave him his abilities. Since the chemicals made an impact on his body’s natural chemistry, those same chemical alterations were passed on to his child. Y/N Rogers was raised on the outskirts of Queens, right by the border of Brooklyn. She grew up primarily raised by her mother, with her ‘aunts and uncles’ all being superheroes. Her father was very present in her live, but at times, he had missions that would last months. During her childhood, she moved closer and closer into the city, closer towards the Stark (eventually renamed for the Avengers) Tower.

Y/N knew Peter for a long time, since middle school in fact. He was on the floor, curled up into a small ball as a couple of upperclassmen stood above him, kicking and punching the living daylights out of him. No one deserved to be treated this way. Her father taught her better than that.

“Hey!” The small girl shouted, making the older boys turn towards her. “You have absolutely no right to treat that boy like this.” She was angry. One of the boys straightened his posture, letting out a breathless laugh, bumping his friend in the shoulder. “Yeah, what are you gonna do about it, huh?” The other boy teased, crossing his arms.

Pre-teen Y/N marched up to them, kneeing one of them in the groin. He leaned against the lockers, groaning in pain. She smirked, looking at the other boy with a raised brow, “You want some too?” He hurriedly shook his head, going to grab his friend before running down the hallway.

She walked up to the boy on the floor, picking up his glasses and going to sit on the floor next to him. He slowly sat up, wincing as he did so. He looked at her with his mouth opened slightly and wide eyes. Y/N smiled, handing the pair of dark glasses back to him. “T-thank you.” He mumbled, pulling his knees to his chest, avoiding eye contact. “No problem, kid.”

“Why….why did you help me?” He asked, looking into her eyes more confidently. Y/N shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t like bullies. I don’t care where they’re from.” It was silent for a second before she giggled.

“Sorry. I got that from my dad. I’m Y/N by the way.” She said as she stood up, holding her hand out for him to grab. He took her hand, pulling himself up, “I’m Peter.”

Y/N laughed, now four years later, as her boyfriend took a bite of his takeout Chinese food. “Would you rather be invisible for a day, or be able to fly for a day?” She asked, taking a bite of her own food.

Y/N and Peter have both changed since that one day in sixth grade. He was now more confident in himself, due to his recently obtained abilities. And Y/N was still his guardian angel, helping him get through every day as Peter. She was also a hero, taking after her father.

Peter contemplated that thought for a second, placing the now empty takeout container onto the table from his spot on the floor. “Well, if I were invisible, you wouldn’t be able to see my hot bod.” He said, making a gesture towards his body. She giggled, “Well, you’re not wrong.”

Y/N then mimicked his previous movements, placing the cardboard takeout box onto the table. “Okay, would you rather…kiss me, or…” he placed his hand on his chin, pretending to be in deep thought, “kiss me?” She smiled at the smirk on his face.

“That’s a very difficult decision Peter Parker. What do you think I should do?” She smirked back. Peter leaned in closer to her, beginning to whisper seductively, “I have a few ideas.”

He placed his lips on hers, leaning over her form. She smiled into the kiss, wrapping her hands around his neck, while he kept his hands on her hips. His forehead was pressed against hers as he moved himself to rest between her legs. The air around them was getting hotter by each second, their skin heating up and forming sweat. Pulling away for air, Y/N kept her eyes clothed for a second. When they opened, she looked up into his warm chocolate eyes.

“You have no idea how much I love you, Peter Parker.” She breathlessly said, holding onto his cheeks. Peter chuckled, “And I love you Y/N. More than anything.” He engulfed her lips with his once again. Despite the fact that they both just ate Chinese food, her lips still tasted like cotton candy. Her hands brushed into his hair, the soft curls feeling like clouds.

A set of keys jingled and jammed into the front door, but went unnoticed by the two love struck teens. The blonde haired man, clad in a black baseball cap, a dark pair of sunglasses and a beard, was carrying a brown paper bag filled with groceries. Steve looked over at the couch, and saw a brown haired boy on top of….. on top of his daughter.

Steve placed the bag onto the counter before taking a couple of strides to loudly slam the door. Peter jumped off of his girlfriend, moving as far away from her as he could. “M-Mr. Rogers…. I-I was just, I was.” He was a stuttering mess as the super solider stepped closer and closer to the boy with an unpleasant look on his face.

“You were just doing what exactly?” Steve was now towering over Peter with crossed arms. The teen gulped, visually terrified. Y/N stood up from the floor, walking over to the pair. “Dad,” she said as she placed her hand on his shoulder gently, “you’re scaring him.”

His demeanor softened. He had a soft spot for his daughter. Steve sighed, grabbing both of the kids by their arms and sitting them on opposite ends of the couch, while he sat between them.

Steve cleared his throat, “Y/N, since you’re getting older, and your body is changin-”. Before he could complete his statement, Y/N interrupted, “Dad, please don-”.

“Trust me, I know what it’s like for that to happen.” He nervously chuckled while folding his hands together, as he ignored Y/N’s statement. “You are going to have these umm, these feelings…” He paused, looking at the kids on either side of him and seeing their beet red faces. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel embarrassed either.

“Jesus,” he shook his head and stood up from the couch, “I… this is as awkward for me as it is for you.”

“I highly doubt that sir.” Peter mumbled, not looking anywhere but at his lap. Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just don’t do anything stupid alright? I don’t want a super-spidey running around.” He walked, more like ran, to get out of the uncomfortable airspace.  

The room was silent for a moment, Y/N and Peter not making eye contact. “So,” Peter said, clearing his throat, breaking the silence, and scooting closer towards her, “do you still want to make out?”

Y/N opened her mouth in shock, sharply turning her head to the side. “Seriously Peter? ” She couldn’t help but let out a laugh, making her boyfriend smile.

Sick H// H.S. Imagine//

Written from this request:  Can you write a harry imagine where he comes home from he studio and he had texted you earlier saying he was feeling a little off so he might be home early and whenever he gets home he is kinda upset and anxious because he’s feeling really bad all of a sudden and he starts throwing up and experiencing a really bad headache and you get him laying down and cuddle him and take care of him all night?

Thank you for the request anon! I hope you like it!


At first when Harry texted you, you didn’t think much of it. He was defiantly one to over exaggerate his sickness to get a cuddle from you (He claims you’re warm and it’s therapeutic.) But when you heard the front door open while you were washing dishes, followed by a grunt and the sound of Harry taking, well, kicking his boots off, you became worried. Normally when Harry came home from the studio he would be bouncing off of the walls excited to tell you what he had accomplished. 

“Harry?” You asked from the kitchen entrance. You were met with a pair of half closed eyes and a pale, groaning Harry. “Awe, baby, are you okay?”

“Yes…no…i’m just a little dizzy.” He lied.

Harry..”

“Fine, i may be a little sick…but you didn’t seam to believe me earlier when i told you, so i passed it off as me just being anxious about singing.” Harry grumbled.

“Yes but i didn’t know if you were sick or ‘Y/n my stomach hurts and i think a cuddle would cure it’ sick. You engulfed him in a hug to try and comfort him when you noticed he was much warmer than usual. Before you could force him to lie down he broke from your hug and sprinted to the bathroom, running down the hallway and knocking over a plant in his haste. You could hear the sounds of him being sick from where you were. You ran behind him and saw him hunched over the toilet throwing up. 

“Awe, H,” You whispered tenderly rubbing his back, “I’ll go get you some water.” You hopped up and poured Harry a glass of water, preparing yourself for your love to not leave your side for the rest of the night. Harry would not admit it but he’s a bit of a baby when he is sick, you secretly loved it, but you didn’t want to inflate his ego too much more. 

You noticed he was missing from the bathroom, so you walked to your shared bedroom to see him laying face down star fished across your bed. You struggled to hold back a giggle as you knew he wasn’t feeling well.  

After a few seconds of watching Harry be adorable you spoke up, “Hey, H, i brought you some medicine and water.” 

In response you heard a faint “Thank you” muffled by a pillow. 

He poked his head up when he felt the bed dip a bit due to you sitting on it. He accepted the water and gulped down the pill, trying to ignore the pain in his throat. He plopped back down onto the bead and closed his eyes, praying the pain would disappear. 

“Ughhhhhh, I feel like may head may burst.” Harry groaned. 

“I’m sorry, H, what can i do?” 

Harry opened one eye, “Cuddle me? And i wanna be the little spoon.” 

“Okay, scoot over you big teady bear. Let me go get you some pajamas.” 

Harry’s arm hooked around your waist and pulled you back onto the bed. “No, stay here.”

“It will only take me a minute, plus, you can’t sleep in a Gucci shirt.”

“But, Y/n! I’m very sick right now and i would appreciate if you would hurry and warm me up-and don’t make fun of me!” 

“I’m not making fun of you i’m just saying that you-.”

“And as a sick person it would be border line abusive to leave me without a cuddle.”

Without another word you walked over to your side of the bed and plopped down next to him. You tried your best to wrap your arms around his long body, in response he snuggled closer to you and sniffed, loving the attention. You grabbed the fluffy, thick comforter and pulled it over the both of you.

“Y/n, can we watch the cooking channel?” Harry asked.

“Yes, of course.” You felt around for the remote and turned the TV on, you considered closing the curtains, but decided against it as the heat coming off Harry comforted you. 

“And can you rub my hair?”

“Yes, anything for you.” You tenderly began to massage his scalp.

“Oh, and i’m a bit snug, can you get me some pajamas?” 

And that’s basically how the rest of your long night went, but you wouldn’t want it any other way. 


Thank you so much for reading and i hope you liked it! Don’t forget my inbox is always open and i am currently taking requests! If you would like to send me one i have a small post close to the top of my blog explaining how i do requests and such. Thank You!

When you wait a little

Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: fingering, handjob


I gasped as his hand slid over the perfect spot. Tom kissed my neck, “it’s okay, I promise.” I nodded as his finger kept moving slowly. My heart beat faster and I held in a sound. Tom kept kissing my neck and down to my breasts. My hands were firmly planted on his shoulders, my fingers digging into his skin.

“Fuck.” I gasped when he brushed perfectly. My center was filled with heat and my brain was fogging. He sped up. His tongue was circling my nipple. My thighs were quaking, threatening to drop me into Tom’s lap.

My fingers grasped at his hair and neck as I panted. My body was on fire and as the feeling between my legs grew. His other hand was gripping my ass and he gently bit my other nipple. I gasped and wrenched Tom’s head away from my chest. He stopped moving his hand and looked at me.

My heart was beating too fast and all I could think about getting the good feeling back.

“Jesus, fuck, Tom,” I whimpered and pulled him into a sloppy kiss. One hand grabbed his forearm and slid down to his hand, “don’t stop,” I whispered.

Tom grinned and gave me a quick kiss and laughed, “of course.” His mouth was on mine in a second, his tongue prodding mine. I squeezed his wrist and his fingers gently pinched my bud. Pleasure shot through my body and I moaned into the kiss. My thighs finally gave out.

Tom parted his legs and wrapped his other arm around my waist to keep me against him.

“Don’t fucking stop,” I moaned. I slumped against him with my forehead on his shoulder as the pleasure increased. My skin was hot and my core was pulsing with desire. My hips were rutting against Tom’s fingers.

My fingers were digging into the skin on his arm and sliding down his chest.

“Damn babygirl,” he whispered hoarsely in my ear, “you look so good all fucked up on top of me.”

I moaned. The pleasure was increasing too fast, I felt like I was going to explode. I couldn’t help the ragged breaths and sounds that came out of my mouth. Soon the only thing leaving my mouth was a string of words sounding like, “don’t stop,” until I bit down on his shoulder.

I was almost there as Tom pulled his fingers away.

“What the fuck??” I groaned, I was up in an instant. He shushed me and gave me a quick kiss. “Feels better when you wait a little,” he said with a wink, brushing my hair out of my face. “For now….” I understood.

I sat up and quickly started undoing his belt. “That’s it…” he whispered and started kissing my neck. He pulled out his cock and my eyes widened a bit. He was bigger than I thought he would be. I spit in my hand and wrapped my hand around him, giving him a gentle tug.

His eyes closed and I could tell he was holding in a sound. I started pumping him slowly while the other ran up and down his chest. I kissed his neck, taking my time to let my nails rake over his skin. I gave him a squeeze and swiped the top of his head. He groaned.

I went to his ear, “you like that?” I whispered, tugging on his earlobe with my teeth. His hips started rocking and I immediately moved onto one of his thighs, dragging myself back and forth. He grabbed my hips pulled me down on his leg, causing my clit to rub deliciously against him.

I let out a choked moan and squeezed his length in response. My other hand moved to his shoulder, digging in hard. “Dammit, Tom,” I whimpered, “ make me cum.” My core ached for his hand again.

He let out a low chuckle and took my hand off his cock. He roughly dragged my hips up his thigh with a smirk. The low sound he made in the back of his throat made me gasp.

Suddenly his fingers were delicately yet quickly rubbing my clit. I gasped loudly at the feeling and my hips were immediately moving in motion with his fingers. He was going so fast my skin was so hot and my body felt like a fire, the hottest part at my core. I was whimpering and gasping curses as I clung desperately to Tom’s chest.

“C’mon baby,” Tom whispered in my ear, “you’re doing so well, fuck baby. You can get there.” The sounds from my throat grew louder and my panting breath was hot against Tom’s neck.

Everything was building and building, the hot pleasure moving through my body until it burst. My hips were moving like crazy against his fingers as wave after wave of pleasure shot through my veins. I bit down on Tom’s shoulder to quiet my borderline pornagraphic moan.

“That’s it baby,” he said as I started to come down from my high, “fuck that was hot, you look so fucking good.” He gave my lips a quick kiss and pulled my legs across his lap so I was situated sideways in his arms.

“You were right,” I said with a gulp of air, “about waiting a bit. Fuck, that felt amazing.”

It was only a faint;

his eyelids were beginning to flutter by the time I knelt beside him and loosened the stock at his throat. I had no doubts at all by now, but still I looked automatically as I pulled the heavy linen away. It was there, of course, the small triangular scar just above the collarbone, left by the knife of Captain Jonathan Randall, Esquire, of His Majesty’s Eighth Dragoons.

His normal healthy color was returning. I sat cross-legged on the floor and hoisted his head onto my thigh. His hair felt thick and soft in my hand. His eyes opened.

“That bad, is it?” I said, smiling down at him with the same words he had used to me on the day of our wedding, holding my head in his lap, twenty-odd years before.

“That bad, and worse, Sassenach,” he answered, mouth twitching with something almost a smile. He sat up abruptly, staring at me.

“God in heaven, you are real!”

“So are you.” I lifted my chin to look up at him. “I th-thought you were dead.” I had meant to speak lightly, but my voice betrayed me. The tears spilled down my cheeks, only to soak into the rough cloth of his shirt as he pulled me hard against him.

I shook so that it was some time before I realized that he was shaking, too, and for the same reason. I don’t know how long we sat there on the dusty floor, crying in each other’s arms with the longing of twenty years spilling down our faces.

His fingers twined hard in my hair, pulling it loose so that it tumbled down my neck. The dislodged pins cascaded over my shoulders and pinged on the floor like pellets of hail. My own fingers were clasped around his forearm, digging into the linen as though I were afraid he would disappear unless physically restrained.

As though gripped by the same fear, he suddenly grasped me by the shoulders and held me away from him, staring desperately into my face. He put his hand to my cheek, and traced the bones over and over again, oblivious to my tears and to my abundantly running nose.

I sniffed loudly, which seemed to bring him to his senses, for he let go and groped hastily in his sleeve for a handkerchief, which he used clumsily to swab first my face, then his own.

“Give me that.” I grabbed the erratically waving swatch of cloth and blew my nose firmly. “Now you.” I handed him the cloth and watched as he blew his nose with a noise like a strangled goose. I giggled, undone with emotion.

He smiled too, knuckling the tears away from his eyes, unable to stop staring at me.

Suddenly I couldn’t bear not to be touching him. I lunged at him, and he got his arms up just in time to catch me. I squeezed until I could hear his ribs crack, and felt his hands roughly caressing my back as he said my name over and over.

At last I could let go, and sat back a little. He glanced down at the floor between his legs, frowning.

“Did you lose something?” I asked, surprised.

He looked up and smiled, a little shyly.

“I was afraid I’d lost hold altogether and pissed myself, but it’s all right. I’ve just sat on the alepot.”

Sure enough, a pool of aromatic brown liquid was spreading slowly beneath him. With a squeak of alarm, I scrambled to my feet and helped him up. After trying vainly to assess the damage behind, he shrugged and unfastened his breeches. He pushed the tight fabric down over his haunches, then stopped and looked at me, blushing slightly.

“It’s all right,” I said, feeling a rich blush stain my own cheeks. “We’re married.” I cast my eyes down, nonetheless, feeling a little breathless. “At least, I suppose we are.”

He stared at me for a long moment, then a smile curved his wide, soft mouth.

“Aye, we are,” he said. Kicking free of the stained breeches, he stepped toward me.

I stretched out a hand toward him, as much to stop as to welcome him. I wanted more than anything to touch him again, but was unaccountably shy. After so long, how were we to start again?

He felt the constraint of mingled shyness and intimacy as well. Stopping a few inches from me, he took my hand. He hesitated for a moment, then bent his head over it, his lips barely brushing my knuckles. His fingers touched the silver ring and stopped there, holding the metal lightly between thumb and forefinger.

“I never took it off,” I blurted. It seemed important he should know that. He squeezed my hand lightly, but didn’t let go.

“I want—” He stopped and swallowed, still holding my hand. His fingers found and touched the silver ring once more. “I want verra much to kiss you,” he said softly. “May I do that?”

The tears were barely dammed. Two more welled up and overflowed; I felt them, full and round, roll down my cheeks.

“Yes,” I whispered.

He drew me slowly close to him, holding our linked hands just under his breast.

“I havena done this for a verra long time,” he said. I saw the hope and the fear dark in the blue of his eyes. I took the gift and gave it back to him.

“Neither have I,” I said softly.

His hands cupped my face with exquisite gentleness, and he set his mouth on mine.

I didn’t know quite what I had been expecting. A reprise of the pounding fury that had accompanied our final parting? I had remembered that so often, lived it over in memory, helpless to change the outcome. The half-rough, timeless hours of mutual possession in the darkness of our marriage bed? I had longed for that, wakened often sweating and trembling from the memory of it.

But we were strangers now, barely touching, each seeking the way toward joining, slowly, tentatively, seeking and giving unspoken permission with our silent lips. My eyes were closed, and I knew without looking that Jamie’s were, as well. We were, quite simply, afraid to look at each other.

Without raising his head, he began to stroke me lightly, feeling my bones through my clothes, familiarizing himself again with the terrain of my body. At last his hand traveled down my arm and caught my right hand. His fingers traced my hand until they found the ring again, and circled it, feeling the interlaced silver of the Highland pattern, polished with long wear, but still distinct.

His lips moved from mine, across my cheeks and eyes. I gently stroked his back, feeling through his shirt the marks I couldn’t see, the remnants of old scars, like my ring, worn but still distinct.

“I’ve seen ye so many times,” he said, his voice whispering warm in my ear. “You’ve come to me so often. When I dreamed sometimes. When I lay in fever. When I was so afraid and so lonely I knew I must die. When I needed you, I would always see ye, smiling, with your hair curling up about your face. But ye never spoke. And ye never touched me.”

“I can touch you now.” I reached up and drew my hand gently down his temple, his ear, the cheek and jaw that I could see. My hand went to the nape of his neck, under the clubbed bronze hair, and he raised his head at last, and cupped my face between his hands, love glowing strong in the dark blue eyes.

“Dinna be afraid,” he said softly. “There’s the two of us now.”

We might have gone on standing there gazing at each other indefinitely, had the shop bell over the door not rung. I let go of Jamie and looked around sharply, to see a small, wiry man with coarse dark hair standing in the door, mouth agape, holding a small parcel in one hand.

Desert Places

Summary:

“Okay, but why aren’t you still freaking out?” Hunk asked, looking at Pidge incredulously.  “Keith is an alien! A furry, fuzzy alien!”

Lance sniggered at the description even as Keith scowled. Rather than intimidating, Keith looked petulant with the added crossed arms.  Lance suppressed his laughter and cleared his throat.

“Well, I mean, I’m an alien too, so…”  He trailed off.  When Pidge and Hunk turned to look at him, he let his human form drop.  Pointed ears and blue facial markings revealed themselves.

Hunk’s eyes widened even further while Pidge breathed out a “whoa”.

Lance and Keith have made a new home on Earth, but Lance still finds himself drawn to Altea.

Part 2 of the with their empty spaces series 

Rating: T

Relationship(s): Klance

Word Count: 1875

Status: Complete

Read on Ao3

Light Sleeper

Rating: T
Chapter(s): 1/1
Relationship(s): Gabriel Reyes/Jack Morrison
Warnings: Disgusting Fluff (N/A)
Words: 1,670
Additional Tags: Soft Old Men, Naps, Snoring, Cuddles (Platonic and Romantic), THE USUAL APOSTAPAL FARE

Summary: Jack Morrison snores. Loudly. And no one’s sure how Gabriel Reyes, otherwise known as the grouchiest person ever woken up from a nap, puts up with it like he does. Not even him.

A/N: Taking a break from sucking at games to write the sleepy old men stuff I keep thinking about when I go into work in the mornings. See full title HERE.

(ao3)

Keep reading

When I Reach For You (Come Home To My Heart)

Happy Arrow day, friends! This is a fluff-filled sequel to We’ll Figure It Out (One Step At A Time) , but you by no means need to read one to enjoy the other. Also, it somehow turned into almost 5,000 words, and I don’t know how that happened… Enjoy!


Oliver doesn’t know why he’s so nervous. It’s not like Felicity and William haven’t met before and yet, as he waits for the tiny blonde to show up at his apartment door, he paces through the living room with sweaty palms like a goddamned teenager who is about to have a girl in his room for the first time. Then suddenly, there’s a knock from the hallway, and he has to take a quick breath to collect himself. Finally, he moves to open the door, but his smile falls instantly when he realizes it’s just the college-aged delivery boy who works for the pizzeria down the street. 

“Oh, hey Mateo,” Oliver says slightly deflated as he pats his pockets for his wallet.

“Mayor Queen,” The young man nods in acknowledgment. 

“How are you doing, are your classes off to a good start this semester?” Oliver inquires, thinking back to their conversation from two weeks ago when the man had just started his sophomore year.

“Can’t say there’s too much to complain about, sir, although advanced calculus is a real bi-… pain in the butt,” The young man corrects himself with red cheeks under a head of curly brown hair, and Oliver can’t help but smile.

“Yeah, I can’t say I’m a huge fan of math myself these days,” Oliver replies with a laugh, handing Mateo a generous tip in exchange for a large pepperoni pizza.

Keep reading

Just for a Moment


((Drabble inspired by this beautiful piece of art https://ofratsandcrows.tumblr.com/post/166465123290/touch-starved-hanzo-asks-mccree-for-help-shaving ))

Hanzo looked in the mirror in the tiny half bath off his dormitory on the Gibraltar base. His hair was growing out on the sides and back and every day it drove him mad. The tiny hairs now scattered on his neck itched at his soul and he found himself scratching the new growth on the sides. He needed to clean himself up. It was disgusting, sweat cutting rivers into it when he trained.

The small mirror in his hand did not promise success. Even with the borrowed clipper set. It should have been easy. He had watched several YouTube videos on the process. The new recruit Sombra had offered to help him, her own head half shaved.

But it was not Olivia’s touch he craved like a man dying of hunger before a feast. His brother would warn about the dangers of giving into impulsive desires. The monk had already offered to lead him in meditations to smooth the sharp edges time alone had chipped away.

There was someone on base with steady hands, carved by the gods themselves who he could hear from his bathroom. A low steady drawl singing along to a vinyl record by the cowboy across the hall drew him like a cord around his chest. Tugged with each word, Hanzo found himself walking to the tackily decorated door.

Keep reading

I’m Here to Stay

Summary: Before he could say anything else, you gave him a full slap on the face.
“That’s for leaving.” You affirmed in anger.
Surprising him, you pulled him into a kiss, the first you’d shared in the longest time.
Steve pulled you tightly by your waist, almost fusing you two with the force of his grip.
“And I guess this is for coming back.” He muttered after you pulled away to breathe.
“Don’t ever, ever, leave again.”
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Tony Stark x Daughter!Reader
Other Characters: Sebastian Rogers (OC), Steven Rogers Jr (OC), Peter Parker, Victory (Dog)
Warnings: Parent Steve Rogers, Angst, fluff, Civil War is over, Rogers Family. Gif is from google.

Mrs Captain - Masterlist

“I’ll take good care of them, Mrs Captain,” Peter affirmed, and you chuckled at the nickname he had given you.

“Be careful.” You reminded the teen. “She can be really strong and drag you around. And give them both water, it is hot outside.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Parker nodded, blushing when you kissed his cheek before kissing your son’s forehead and petting Victory.

“Bye, mummy,” Sebastian said with a smile, waving goodbye as he left, holding Peter’s had tightly.

“Have fun.” You said back. “Lunch will be ready when you’re back.”

When they left, you walked back into the kitchen you shared with the rest of the team. After his aunt found out he was Spiderman, Peter spent most of his weekends in the compound and your older son had developed a very clear crush on him and followed him around all the time like a puppy.

You were in a very cheerful mood, even humming a song while putting dinner in the oven and preparing Steven’s formula. At least until you saw a figure in his room through the security camera.

You had never teleported so fast into a place so quickly and the stranger didn’t have any time to step closer to your baby’s crib before you slammed them against the wall with your powers.

“Oh damn.” The voice you knew too well exclaimed in a sound of pain. “I missed how fast and strong you can be.”

You stared at the man a few steps from you with wide eyes.

“Steve?!”

Pressed against the wall and looking a mixture of happy, in pain and terrified, your husband smiled.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You released him quickly and he walked to your direction with a huge smile on his face.

With a full beard and long hair, Steve looked much older than even in front of you and you didn’t know if you could cry or laugh in happiness.

“Are you real?” You whispered, feeling tears falling from your eyes as you reached out to touch his face.

“As real as I can get.”

Before he could say anything else, you gave him a full slap on the face.

“That’s for leaving.” You affirmed in anger.

Surprising him, you pulled him into a kiss, the first you’d shared in the longest time.

Steve pulled you tightly by your waist, almost fusing you two with the force of his grip.

“And I guess this is for coming back.” He muttered after you pulled away to breathe.

“Don’t ever, ever, leave again.” You slapped his chest.

Keep reading

Originally posted by mybias-and-i

Jungkook was having some personal time and it was too dark to see which room you had wandered into until it was too late

A/N: Super smutty and this may or may not have been written to celebrate jungkook’s black hair 

Word count: 756

The dim light in the room meant that you could see the way Jungkook’s forehead glistened with sweat, his neck bared as he let out a throaty groan, his hand slowing down before regaining its pace. His pink bottom lip pressed tightly between his teeth as whines mixed with groans. You had to forcibly steady your breathing while you watched him, guilt and shame washed over you. You knew that this was a private moment definitely not for your eyes and you knew that you should turn around and pretend this never happened. But the way his hips bucked desperately into his own fist had you rooted to the spot, your heart racing a mile a minute at the sight.

Whine after pathetic whine tore itself free from his throat as he got closer and closer to his orgasm, his hand tugging faster and harder. You could see the way his fist was clenched beside him, the heel of his palm pushing down into the mattress beneath as he tried his absolute best to keep almost quiet. Bucking furiously into his hand as he tried to chase his high, the whimpers spilling from his lips only got more and more frequent and you never thought you would love to hear a man be as vocal as that until you heard Jungkook. And, fuck, did it turn you on like nothing else to watch him fuck his own hand while his free hand reached up to clamp over his mouth in a desperate attempt to silence some of his glorious noises. After having his eyes screwed shut for so long, he opened them to see you stood stock still in the doorway. Watching him. Words spilled out of his mouth that you most definitely didn’t expect. Screams to get out, incredulous questioning as to why you decided you would stand in his doorway and watch him get himself off, even a very many insults directed at you. But you never guessed he would groan throatily and ask: “Are you just gonna stand there and watch or get over here?”

Against what you would later realise was your better judgement, you walked forward without much question, the ache between your thighs driving you towards Jungkook’s wrecked body. He looked so delectable laid out on his bed, his hair ruffled, shirt riding up his abdomen, shorts pushed down his thighs and the veins in his forearm bulging.
“Your tits are fucking amazing,” he groaned, his strong hand cupping and squeezing at your breast. Smoothly, he brought his hand up and around the back of your neck, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss that contained a little too much tongue and was more heavy breaths and moans than much else. At this point your body seemed to be running on autopilot, your hands and body doing as they pleased without much thought for what would happen after this moment, when you had to return to the real world where you couldn’t just watch Jungkook jerk off and then make out with him as he comes over his own fist. Leaning closer to his warmth, your hand pressed flat against the golden skin of his abdomen, feeling the muscles pull taut as his dick jumped in his hand and his strokes remained at a slow steady pace. You worked your way up until your reached his nipple and began toying with it. He let out a slightly too loud groan when you alternated between dragging your nail lightly over the hardened bud and brushing over it with the pad of your thumb. Progressively his strokes got faster and faster and he had to pull away from your heated kiss to whimper quietly.
“Fuck, baby, don’t stop, that feels so good,” he praised, making your heart swell. You were completely mesmerised by him.  

You watched the way his face changed and contorted with pleasure as he came, his eyes solely on you as his jaw fell open and an erotic moan slipped past his beautiful lips, punctuating the silence of the room. Even after his orgasm, small whines were still heard from him as he kept pumping himself, eyes half closed and watching you watch him. You could feel the damp area between your legs when you clenched your thighs, wishing you wouldn’t have stumbled into this room blindly. Retrospect is a bitch. Your mouth just hung open as the room was swallowed into the depths of an awkward silence only broke by Jungkook’s heavy breaths.

“I guess you caught me.”

4

@camphalfbloodnetwork quest three: favorite friendship 
get to know the members: zelle

  percy, frank, and hazel  

“hazel squinted. “how far?”
”just over the river and through the woods.“
percy raised an eyebrow. “seriously? to grandmother’s house we go?”
frank cleared his throat. “yeah, anyway.”

2

The Morning After

It’s the morning after Halloween and you get an unexpected phone call.


  • Dean Winchester x Reader
  • 573 wORDS
  • No warnings

The day after Halloween, you had to go back into work with a killer headache and a very faint memory of what had happened the night before. It’s mostly a blur, what with the alcohol and partying. You don’t remember where you ended up, or how you got home, just that you ran into a man that promised you a good time.

You walk down the street, dirty hair sprayed with nearly a whole can of hairspray, makeup partly left over from your costume. You feel a buzz in your pocket and pull out our phone to see an unknown number flashing on the screen. Confused, you answer it anyway.

“Hello?” You tilt your head and hold the phone between your shoulder and ear, digging in your bag for a tube of lip gloss that you proceed to coat over your chapped lips.

A deep voice came from the other end, scratchy and low. He sounds as if he just woke up, a little confused himself. “Thank god you’re a woman…” He grunts.

“Excuse me?” You blink and hesitate before looking across the street to run to the other side. You’re already late for work, already called in and told them you couldn’t be there on time. “What does that mean?”

The man chuckles and you recall hearing that same laugh last time, recall how attractive you found it. “Your number is written on my hand, sweetheart. I must have made an impression.”

You pause on the sidewalk, thinking back to whoever you spent the night with, and it hits you. He was the tall man you met at the party, the one with the scar on his cheek. You asked him about it a few times, though he never gave you a straight answer. “D-Dean?” You remember suddenly.

Again, the man chuckles and goosebumps appear on your skin, a chill run down your spine. “How about we grab breakfast? I need to see what you look like on a normal day.” He teases.

You continue walking down the street, heading for your building. “Oh? Do you even know my name?” You ask him.

Dean grunts and it sounds like he clears his throat. “Y/N, let me take you out for waffles. You like waffles, don’t you?”

“I don’t think so, Dean.” You say and begin to pull the phone away from your ear.

“Dumb question, I know.” He clears his throat again and you place the phone back to your ear, waiting on the rest of his response. “Right… What beautiful, young lady doesn’t like waffles? I mean, they’re fluffy. You got little pockets of syrup. You just cover ‘em up in whipped cream… mmm. Amirite?”

You smirk a little. It’s coming back to you now. The man that came up to you last night wasn’t drunk, not yet. He started dancing with you, though he admitted beforehand he didn’t dance. You taught him how to slow dance, he bought you a few drinks, you jumped in that shiny black car of his and the two of you made out in the front seat. He was gentle with you at first, until he found out you liked to play rough. He must have been the one who dropped you off. “If you can meet me at Ihop in fifteen minutes, I’ll think about it.”

And before the man could say anything, you hung up the phone and walk off toward the restaurant.