but you can still see the tongue!

“There wasn’t any sex!” Louis protests, face going red. His leg is linked over Harry’s and there’s a spot of dried come on the toe of his sneaker.

Niall raises a haughty eyebrow, unconvinced. “No sex?”

“He probably means no penetrative sex,” Zayn clarifies unhelpfully from the front seat. It’s unclear who makes a worse sound: Liam or Louis.

Niall clucks his tongue and frowns. “A load’s a load, man,” he argues. “And a load blown at the hand of another is still sex, no matter how you cut it.” He pauses then and grins. “Hey! That was pretty fuckin’ poetic,” he says proudly.“Someone write that shit down.”

Harry just laughs and denies absolutely nothing, pinching at Louis’ lower back, down where no one else can see. Louis swats him away because no one, no one is going to belittle his finest act of bravery. 

“Shut the hell up, Horan,” he says grumpily, but he’s unable to even pretend not to smile because there’s a boy right next to him with a hickey just below his collar thanks to Louis himself, and Louis can’t even begin to articulate just how good that feels.

Atlas At Last

Big Bang Round 5 ~ Publish Date: May 1

83k

Maine to California in ten days. In which Zayn’s an open-shirt hippie they meet somewhere in Ohio, Liam’s the pastor’s son running away from home, and Niall’s the number they call on the bathroom wall.

It’s 1978. Harry and Louis are just trying to get to San Fran in time for the Queen concert.

Post 1

Post 2

lovely header by @youwilll!

fate.

it’s not just the fact. the fact that you message me everyday at 4 am just to remind me to take better care of myself. the fact that you do it even after I tell you not to. the fact that I barely answer back on time. the fact that you’re on the other side of the planet. the fact that an online friend is one of my biggest fans. the fact that you remind me to eat and drink. the fact that you love throwing random information around, my own personal human google, you’re the lightbulb of my ideas. the fact that you hate yourself just as much as I hate myself. the fact that you blame yourself for your uncle’s death. the fact that you love me more than I love myself. the fact that you love my poetry more than the amount of poems I’ve written, and I’ve written plenty. the fact that you’re still here after all of this time. you are simply too damn cute, by simply being you. friendship masked as sundown, you never like to see me frown. you always ask– what was your suck and sweet of the day? most days I say nothing. most days I don’t want to talk about it. when I think that I deserve pain, I remember you and I stop. when the moon grows the flowers in my mind, when I can’t come up with hard facts or a simple way to say I love you to myself– I think about you. a thousand rivers must contain one dragon, a thousand nights must be enough for me to forgive myself. you are randomness. you are a singularity. you are a tiny poem. you are pressed daisies. you are an unwritten metaphor, you cross my mind, but I can never formulate you. you are on the tip of my tongue, a prose piece without a single mention about love, but I still feel loved by you. you wanna know why you’re different? a million tumblr accounts, yours is the only one without reblogs, posts or anything. you’re my invisible reader. and I see you for you.

Better With Age

Summary: Sam freaks out a little about growing older. You comfort him.

Word Count: 1900ish

Warning: standard smut, a little dirty talk

A/N: Hope y’all enjoy this one! XOXO


It’s the little things.

Sam starts an intense multivitamin regimen in the mornings. He cuts back on the beer. He tries his best to start sleeping five or six hours instead of the usual four.

You get it. You aren’t twenty-one years old anymore either. Sore muscles take a couple of days longer to heal, too many beers at dinner makes you feel awful the next day, and you just simply don’t have the stamina you used to.

Sam is just trying to ward off middle-age as long as he can, despite the fact that he’s not even there yet.

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anonymous asked:

How do open snoot??? I have so many problems when it comes to drawing open mouthed critters/expressions!! I just can't wrap my mind around how open snouts work with the skull or the circles I use for the skull anyhow.. Do you have any advice on this??

 I’M GONNA TRY MY BEST TO EXPLAIN THIS because, man i feel u but at the same time I know very little about the technical anatomy when it comes to skulls ;;

Let’s do a sorta above ¾ view for this rlly quick, when I start out, I always like to establish one part of the snout at a time, instead of trying to just DIVE RIGHT IN. So I start by putting vague upper muzzle shapes here, just to get the direction goin’

NOW WE GOTTA GIVE THIS THING A LOWER JAW to help keep it symmetrical, I like to pull the lines from the corners of the upper lips. DON’T BE AFRAID TO OVERLAP, OVERLAPPING IS IMPORTANT IN GENERAL BUT ESPECIALLY WHEN DRAWING OPEN MUZZLES LIKE THIS!! See that line that goes from the upper right corner of the lip and through the top half of the muzzle? I basically use that as my guide to keep from pulling the jaw too far out, or too far in. Don’t worry if it looks a bit like they have an underbite either, depending on the angle, perspective will do that..it likes to fuk with ur brain a bit

OKAY NOW we’re bringing back the overlapping line because chins are still hard for me to draw and I change how i do it constantly but this is a good method to get a chin that doesn’t thrust too much outwards or inwards (unless that’s the specific jaw shape you were going for with ur character, then by all means do so!!! ) bring the line from the further corner of the eye, form the cheek, and bring it down (overlapping over the top jaw as we are wont to do) and bring it AROUND TOWN. You see here that it’s kinda boxy and I could probably curve that line some more to give a more slender look but w/e IT WORKS WITH MOST SHAPES

if you’re referring to something like the BND draw I posted recently, it’s pretty much a similar course of action, so let’s use this  asshole as an example because his mouth is obnoxiously wide when it’s open 

Start off with the upper jaw, again, it’s easier to piece these things together vs trying to shove all the shapes together at once (for me it is anyways) 

i’m doing this from profile view this time but you can see the overlapping lines still work!! I roughly places where the otherside of the upper corner of the lip would be on the side we don’t see and used that to help me get an idea of how far down the lower jaw is gonna go~! Don’t worry, it’s gonna look awkward most of the time  and it’s a perfect chance to go in and fix the length of the upper/lower jaw before you start adding in deets like the tongue and teeth! <:

there we go!!!! looks a lot less awkward LOL

you can also do something like this if ur feeling kinda toony (it’s really fun, simple yet effective!)

It can work for a lot of different styles, from realism to toony to my stupid doodles i do a lot when being a Serious Artist ™ is just 2 much for me :^)

BUT YEAH HERE U GO I HOPE THIS HELPS

Pleasant Surprises

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Tags: lots of kissing, fingering, smut, public sex

Words: 2538

A/N: I’m sorry it’s been so long ):

Originally posted by zest-wincest

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smile with me (you make me begin)

Originally posted by berry852

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook/Reader
Genre: Smut, Comedy, Angst, Fluff
Word Count: 30,587
Warnings: cursing/cussing, sexual content, exhibitionism, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, past bullying, past abusive relationship, mentions of drug usage, mentions of depression, anxiety attacks, self-harm

SUMMARY
First, there were hot tongues and meaningless moans, anger and grudges hidden behind sex. Then, there were laughter and inside jokes, fleeting kisses and warm gazes trapped in time.
Jungkook has never known love before, but if he has to define it, he’s sure that love is everything he feels for her.

AUTHOR’S NOTE
for the sake of the story, BTS’s ages are ambiguous. however, 95 line are still the same age, and jungkook/reader are the same age as well. jimin and taehyung will be in their third year of college, while jungkook and the reader in their first. hoseok and namjoon are also in their last year.
the reader/female character will always just be referred to as she/her/the girl. any other female character (the reader’s roommate) will be referred to using their name (or in this case, “her roommate”).
P.S. ALSO EXCUSE THE SMUT THX
P.P.S. if you’ve ever read the overwhelming light surrounding us, see if you can catch my little reference ;)
P.P.P.S. thanks @sydist for reading the whole thing and sorting out the plot with me, @thules for making sure the smut’s okay, and @trbld-writer for encouraging me to write this!


The winter air is colder today; Jungkook shoves his fingers into the pocket of his jeans. He quickly strides forward, breathing ragged as white mist dances before his lips; his camera slams against his chest as he breaks into a run.

He has always enjoyed winter. There’s something about the serenity of the season—a time littered with sprinkles of hope, joy, and laughter—that somehow always manages to warm his heart. His fondest memories are born during this time of year, images of a chocolate fondue, his smiling older brother, and giant Christmas presents tucked neatly into the corner of his mind.

His camera bounces as he halts abruptly, and he pushes through the doors of the coffee shop.

“Jungkookie! You’re back!”

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Sex with the Avengers

Request: In your opinion, what is the favorite sexual position of each guy (Steve, Bucky, Pietro, Clint, Bruce, Tony) with a female partner? And for Natasha and Wanda (ONLY if you’re comfortable with)? I’M IN LOVE WIH YOUR BLOG! -Anon

A/N: Oops, I planned to write this quickly -like just tell you the positions, but now here I am, four hours later and all of the descriptions aren’t even containing one exact position. Sorry, I hope you like these anyway haha x AND THANK YOU DOLL ♥

Ps. Gosh, I’m such a trash for Steve.

Originally posted by starksokovia

Pietro

Keyword: His speed. Oh god, that speed. He would take time to have sex with you, but he would use his speed while teasing you –first, he’s kissing you against the wall and before you even realize, you are laying naked underneath him, his mouth devouring your dripping wet core, causing you to scream his name from the sudden contact.

Pietro would love to be on top; pressing you against the mattress, kissing your lips or sucking your neck demandingly. This position gives him everything he wants; chance to see your expressions, eventuality to touch you and the oh so good possibility to use his speed on you, fucking you hard while you tangle your fingers to his hair or dig your nails to his back, leaving marks he loves to see at the morning after your heated night together.

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foxpaws10  asked:

Heeeeyyy, if you're still taking prompts how about "what do you want from me" for andreil with a shit ton of angst? ... And some fluff if possible ??? 😆 xx

one angsty andreil, just for you, my lovely friend! a little lighter on the fluff than i was aiming for, but what can ya do. also on AO3.

send me prompts :)


Andrew opens his eyes to the pitch black of their dorm room, unable to move, barely able to breathe. His back is to the wall, his hands are clenched in the sheets, and he is struggling not to bite through his bottom lip. Images of demons past play behind his eyes, so he does his best not to blink. Andrew jumps when Neil makes a small noise in his sleep, and he feels like the walls are closing in on him.

He climbs over Neil, careful not to touch him, and silently makes his way toward the door. He thinks he hears Neil call after him, but Andrew knows he will give him some space. At least for a little while. Andrew leaves the room, fully aware that this is just a feeble attempt at outrunning his own mind.

Neil’s weight beside him is now familiar and can even be a comfort, sometimes. But on the occasions when Andrew’s senses are on overdrive and the smallest movement feels like an avalanche, an earthquake, a fucking planetary realignment, Neil knows better than to take Andrew’s abandonment personally.

Neil’s hoodie is thrown on the back of his desk chair, so Andrew makes his way over to dig out the pack of cigarettes from the pocket. He thinks he could light it with just the fire on the edge of his tongue, but he grabs a lighter from the drawer just in case.

He opens the window with so much force that the glass vibrates harshly for several seconds. Andrew is unconcerned. He watches with disinterest as a small crack forms at the bottom of the windowsill. Whatever. It’s still functional.

He climbs onto his desk and pulls his knees up to his chest, leaning back against the wall before lighting his cigarette and taking a long, slow drag. Andrew wonders if maybe the smoke will clear out the tar in his lungs, if he’ll be able to breathe again. Probably not.

Time passes, and Andrew doesn’t notice. An hour, maybe two. His breath fogs up the window. He stares outside as the sun slowly illuminates the parking lot below. The Maserati begins to take shape, and he has the sudden urge to drive until he can’t anymore. Maybe through the mountains, maybe off a cliff. Who knows.

He must be spending too much time around Neil.

Andrew distracts himself by recalling the highest points of elevation in the United States from a geography book he read in high school. He isn’t even halfway through the list when he hears the bedroom door open. He doesn’t look, but the sound of the door closing lets him know that it’s just Neil. He never lets the door click back into place; he turns the knob and shuts the door, releasing it only when the door is fully closed and will make no noise. Andrew isn’t sure whose sake he does this for. Maybe Kevin’s, maybe his own.

He keeps his gaze trained on the parking lot until he feels Neil approach him. He slowly flicks off the ashes from his cigarette into the small pile he has made on top of Kevin’s history book. Ancient Rome or something equally as useless. Andrew doesn’t care enough to look. He turns his head to see that Neil has stopped a few feet away, running shoes in one hand and a hoodie in the other. He doesn’t say anything, but he extends the hand holding the hoodie, the same one that was on the chair. Andrew looks back to the window and takes note of the layer of frost on the outside. It’s probably a bit above freezing. Funny. Andrew hadn’t noticed.

He reaches out and takes the hoodie. Stares at Neil. Prepares to pry open his jaw and force out a reply to whatever Neil is about to say.

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anonymous asked:

hihihi i love ur neighbor au SO MUCH the shownu had me dyiNG it's so accurate, and the spicy changkyun one BOI i died anyways can i possibly ask for the last of the series, a cute hyungwon one?? Thank u and bless u :')

the other members can be found here:
wonho / shownu / kihyun / minhyuk /changkyun / jooheon 

  • owns a one room apartment because it’s cheap and he doesn’t really need a kitchen,,,,when kihyun was helping him look at apartments hyungwon was just like “i need there to be room for a king sized bed.” and kihyun was like “oh but this place even has an extra closet it just costs a bit mo-” “kihyun,,,,,,,all i need is a place to sleep.”
  • has a full length mirror in the hallway and openly admits that he checks himself out in it. doesn’t openly admit that he’ll sometimes dance in front of it when he’s getting ready too 
  • his brother begged him to not put up the photo of him when he first enlisted in the army but hyungwon,,,,being the person he is,,,,hung that photo right up next to his nightstand 
  • but it’s cute,,,he hung up photos of his family alongside it because no matter what he misses them a lot
  • has a copy of every magazine he was a model in and keeps them in a stack on his bookshelf alongside a bunch of books on fashion and traveling,,,,,
  • every time his friends come over they pull out a magazine and tease hyungwon over his modeling but hyungwon’s like yall just mad because you’re not this beautiful 
  • his coffeemaker is the most expensive thing in his apartment 
  • has a mug that says ‘until this mug is empty, im not technically awake’,,,,it was a gift from minhyuk 
  • fashionable hyungwon only exists in the streets. when he’s at home it’s big old t-shirt, froggy pajama pants, and froggy slippers,,,,,,,,i like to think he also owns a froggy pillow just because hyungwon + frogs is a meme or whatever but it’s also super cute,,,,,,,
  • wears glasses around the building and people don’t recognize who he is until he takes them off and they’re like OH it’s the model from floor eleven!!! and hyungwon is like slinking his way back to the elevator with very un-model like posture LOL
  • you’ve known ever since he moved in because when he was trying to get all his boxes up to his apartment 
  • he was going at the most painstakingly slow speed,,,like literally one box at a time,,,,,and you felt bad watching this dude with his noodle arms try to move all by himself
  • so you offered to help and hyungwon had tried to say it was ok but then you’d lifted like three boxes and he was like you know what please do help me lol
  • and after you two were done you pointed at your door across the hall and you were like “im your neighbor, neighbors should help each other!! since i helped you today,,,,”
  • and you had looked him and down and hyugwon had tilted his head in confusion and you were like 
  • “since i helped you today, promise me if i ever need your help idk,,,,since you’re so tall,,,,,fixing a lightbulb or something,,,you’ll help me? deal?”
  • and you’d stuck your hand out and hyungwon,,,,although usually unwilling to sign himself up to doing something aside from taking a nap,,,,had shook your hand back 
  • and since then you’ve just you know,,,, been good neighbors to each other 
  • you always see each other in the evening when you’re coming back from work and hyungwon will already have his glasses on and his hair a mess and you always giggle because he seems like the opposite of a model and he’ll just shrug because doesn’t he actually look better this way?
  • and it’s just very casual and friendly and you say goodbye to each other as you go into your apartments
  • but one night hyungwon notices that you’re not there when he’s waiting for the elevator but he shrugs it off because??? maybe you have overtime or you’re out with friends
  • but when he’s home, already laying down reading his favorite webtoon e looks at the time and it’s like,,,,close to midnight
  • and just to make sure you’re ok,,,he gets up and goes to knock on your door
  • deciding that he’d rather just make up some excuse how he ran out of toilet paper and isn’t just you know,,,,worried
  • but then??? you don’t answer
  • and hyungwon tells himself that he’s not worried and he’s not panicking over you,,,his neighbor,,,,,,who he obviOUSLY hasn’t been fond of since you helped him out,,,,,like haha what no,,,,
  • and that’s totally not the reason he goes outside of the building in his slippers at like 1am just to see if you’re coming home really late,,,,like noooo he’s going to the corner store to get himself a really super late night snack
  • and as he’s coming out of the store, untouched ice-cream in hand he sees you
  • and you’re just walking really slowly, yawning against your palm because your boss made you stay to finish up documents that aren’t even a part of your job and you just,,,, really want some sleep
  • and when you look over you see hyungwon,,,,in his froggy slippers with ice-cream and you’re like “hey,,,,why are you up this late?” and hyungwon just snorts because he’s like i could ask you the same thing
  • and you stick your tongue out but you’re like my devil of a boss made me do work that’s not even mine can you bELIEVE IT
  • and hyungwon is still holding that ice-cream,,,,his heartbeat finally settling down at the sight of your face 
  • and you notice how he’s quietly just staring at you and you look down at his hand and you’re like “the ice-creams gonna melt???” and he’s like i don’t really care 
  • and you’re like cool can i have it???? and you grab it and unwrap it and hyungwon can’t help but smile to himself and you’re like eating, the glum look on your face gone
  • and you and hyungwon get into the elevator and you’re like “so seriously, why are you up right now? you told me once you could sleep for like 29 hours!!!” and hyungwon is like i wanted a late night snack and you’re like dude,,,,,im eating your late night snack c’mon tell me the real reason
  • and hyungwon adjusts his glasses with his hand and looks away and you’re like ???????? and he’s like “sorry,,,i was worried,,,i guess,,,”
  • and you almost choke on your icecream because wait,,,,
  • worried??????
  • about?????????? you????
  • hyungwon who could sleep through a thunderstorm, who forgot your first name for the first three months you knew each other, who as never told you he’s been worried about /anything/,,,,,,,,
  • hyungwon was worried about you?
  • and you get to your floor and you’re both silent but you’re like,,,,,well!!!don’t worry because im fine,,,,,,im gonna go sleep though~~ ok bye!!
  • and hyungwon sees you disappear inside without another word and he doesn’t really know what to think of it so he goes inside too
  • but you’re,,,,,,,standing in your hallway,,,,cheeks pink and you’re like wait,,,,does he,,,,,does he like me,,,,,,,,did he just not want to admit it,,,??
  • and in the morning you and hyungwon bump into each other and hyungwon is obviously acting awkward and you’re like “give me your phone” and he’s like huh
  • and you’re like “you said you were worried about me right, well here’s my number. just text me the next time you’re worried. plus,,,,,,,,i can text you if i ever get worried.”
  • and hyungwon’s looking at you in shock and you’re like ,,,,, getting a bit red and you’re like,,,,,,,heY we made a promise before about helping each other we can make the same promise about worrying too,,,,,that or you know,,,,,
  • and the door opens to the lobby but hyungwon doesn’t get out and neither do you and he’s like “,,,you know,,,what?” and you’re like,,,,,,you know,,,,,,how couples just worry about each other without a promise because you like the person so you worry oh god im rambling
  • and before you know it hyungwon leans in and presses his lips to yours and you’re like !!!!!!!! i guess,,,he agrees on the couple thing!!!!!!!!
  • but the doors close before either of you can get out and the elevator is going back up and you pull back and you’re like hYUNGWON im goinG TO be LATE for the bUS now,,,
  • and he shrugs and pulls you around the waist closer to him and he’s like more time for us to kiss-
  • and you’re like no no no you don’t get to kiss me since you made me late ):< 
  • hyungwon: :’( ok ill kiss you after we both comeback from work 
One Little Tattoo

Originally posted by destiel-broke-me

You stood and pulled down your shirt over your hips. From across the room, Dean’s eyes watched the skin disappear. The way you’d been sitting on the couch made your shirt ride up and sit in the middle of your hip, revealing half of your anti-possession tattoo. Just before you had covered it, you noticed Dean staring at you, and you definitely did not miss the way he licked his lips subconsciously. You suppressed a chuckle and resisted the urge to speak up. Your willpower faded when you saw him drop his gaze and bite his lip.

“What were ya lookin’ at, Dean-o?” You sauntered toward him.

“Huh - what? Nothin’!” He stammered, cheeks gaining the slightest bit of pink.

“I think I saw you looking at this.” You pinched the hem of your t-shirt and pulled it up to where it had been before.

Dean’s eyes grew wide. You’d never been this blatantly bold with him before. All the flirting you’d done had been subtle, innocent. This was different.

“You have the same one, what makes my tattoo different?” You let go of your shirt but left it where it was.

“Mine is - yours is - it’s just different.” He looked away from you.

“Different because of where it is?” You leaned a hand on the edge of the table and smiled down at him.

“Maybe that’s it.” He shrugged, still not looking at you.

“Dean,” you sighed.

“Yeah, that’s not it. It’s because it’s you. The way that one little tattoo just peaks out from under your shirt? It’s like this little sneak peek of what you’re hiding.” He confessed.

“One little tattoo…” You chuckled, shaking your head.

He looked up at you with an eyebrow raised in confusion.

“What if I told you it wasn’t just one?” You reached down and lifted the side of your shirt again.

He watched with careful eyes as you peeled the shirt up your right side, revealing the rest of your anti-possession tattoo. What he didn’t expect was the intricate web of warding symbols that followed, running up your ribcage and up under the swell of your breast.

“Jesus, sweetheart.” He huffed, trying to ignore the tightening in the front of his pants.

“How can you still find this stuff sexy? It’s all… lore stuff. Like this one?” You pointed to the one right under your breast. “That will burn the skin off of a werewolf if they touch it.”

“All tattoos are sexy.” His tongue flicked out over his bottom lip.

He stood then, his hand meeting yours on your right side and groping at the bottom of your shirt on the left. He raised his hands and pulled your shirt up over your head. Dean’s pupils dilated as he closed the space between you and pushed your back against the wall.

“Gonna see what else I can find.” He snarled, hands groping wildly while his lips devoured yours.


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charmer week day 2: first date

“Em. Em. Em.”

Em was lying on her bed, lazily turning pages in her book. She refused to look up at Caitlin.

“Emily. Emilyyyyyyyy…”

Em turned another page in her book. Caitlin could see a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“Emily Rachel Eastman,” implored Cait. “Light of my life. Most generous roommate. Finest setter on the Samwell Women’s Volleyball team. Do I look okay enough for this date?”

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skeleton boy

Title: Skeleton Boy
Pairing: Tyler Joseph/Reader
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Lots of dirty talk, semi-public setting, unprotected sex, fuckboy!Tyler, slight bondage (kinda, lol), typical stuff that I post.
A/N: This is what immediately came to mind for me when the Heavydirtysoul video dropped, so I hope you guys enjoy. I promise I’m gonna post some Josh soon, I’ve got two fics I’m working on solely about him, and I’m trying to get them done ASAP. Anyway, enjoy!

Originally posted by bandrame

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You’re so cute when you pout like that// SHAWN MENDES

Overview: Shawn tries to take a photo of Y/n but she isn’t having it

Requested: nope


“Smile,” Shawn laughs holding his phone up to take a photo of me. 

“No!” I squeak, quickly hiding my face behind my hands.

“Y/n,” Shawn whines and I look at him from in between my fingers.

“I look like a drowned rat today Shawn.” I tell him, yet he continues to take a photo. Letting my hands fall I lunge at him, intent on getting his phone. “Give me that,” I grumble, my body falling across Shawn’s. He falls back on the couch and I crawl on top of him reaching for the phone he holds up above his head as laughs continue to escape him.

“Stop laughing,” I try to say but his laughter is infectious and soon I’m laughing with him.

“See you look beautiful!” Shawn says proudly, turning his phone to see a picture of me laughing on his screen.

“Delete that,” I say, my smile falling and a blank look covering my face.

“Nope,” Shawn pokes his tongue out at me and I glare at him playfully.

I reach for the phone again yet he just holds it above his head causing me to climb further up his body.  Shawn still seems to be able to hold it farther out then what I can reach and I fall back pouting. 

“Shawn, please,” I beg, extending the e in please. 

“Ooh, don’t move, you look so cute when you pout like that,” Shawn quickly brings his phone forward, taking a picture again. I roll my eyes, climbing off him and sitting back on the couch, arms folded across my chest.

“Very nice, yes,” Shawn comments not looking away from his screen.

I don’t reply, ignoring his presence. 

“Y/n?” Shawn asks, noticing I was unhappy. I continue to ignore him.

“Baby,” He says sliding closer to me on the couch. “Are you mad at me?” He whispers, his forefinger running along my jaw then to under my chin, turning my head to look at him. I avoid his eyes, instead staring at his hair, the brown locks looking extra soft today.

“Don’t be mad,” he says, kissing me softly on the tip of my nose, heat rushing to my cheeks at his actions. “Please,” he then kisses my jaw, “Y/n” then my lips.

“Shawn,” I grumble pulling back, continuing to look away.

“You talked!” a grin appears on his face. 

“Only because you were annoying me,” I mumble trying not to smile.

“You love me,” he says confidently. I turn to look at him and he points at me, grinning.

“Stop,” I laugh pushing his shoulder lightly and he laughs, his arms springing to wrap around my body, pulling us closer together. 

“Shawn- get off me, you’re heavy,” I say, my face pressed into his shoulder as his whole body collapses onto mine. 

“Never,” 

Mine - Yoongi Scenario

x

AFF

Genre: Smut / Fluff

Summary: Things heat up at the Halloween Party you were invited to by a friend Yoongi doesn’t particularly like - basically jealous Yoongi.

Word Count: 1,651


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okay but seriously guys ANASTASIA. it’s like they shoved all the best romantic tropes into a movie less than two hours long and did it flawlessly I can’t:

  • the perfectly executed arc from initial dislike –> begrudging respect (“if we live through this, remind me to thank you”) –> inconvenient attraction (“maybe we should stop” / “we have stopped”) –> genuine affection –> realizing you care about the other person so much their happiness is now worth more than your own –> choosing them as your found family
  • the bickering is top notch with her sticking out her tongue and him not seeing it and “men are babies” and even when they’re hurtling towards death in the loose rail car they’re still sniping at each other these nerds
  • he shields her with his body when they blow up the train cars, and she shields him with hers when rasputin dies
  • he doesn’t tell her that he knows she’s the princess because then he’d have to tell her how he knows, and he doesn’t want her to feel like she owes him anything
  • he doesn’t want the money!!!!
  • the way her grandma recognizes how much she loves him and makes it clear that there are no hard feelings, that she still has this family even if she decides to pursue her found family
  • THE SPINNY KISS ON THE BOAT AT THE END!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

anonymous asked:

do it kat. write that narukono time travel fix-it. drag us farther into hell.

*dumps this in front of you as a distraction/tribute*


Naruto is pretty sure he has a crush.

It is absolutely, definitely not on any of the many assorted women Jiraiya has dragged him to meet in the name of information gathering, even though he’s sure they’re perfectly nice ladies. But he’s seen Jiraiya disappear into their brothels a few too many times for comfort, and even when the pervert tries to hint that he should take one of them up on their offers to make him a man Naruto just plays dumb.

It’s kind of insulting that Jiraiya always buys it. Naruto might think at things differently, but that doesn’t make him stupid.

He’s also not a perv like Jiraiya, so there’s that, too.

But, the last few times Jiraiya has been otherwise occupied for the night—which usually means Naruto will actually be left to his own devices for the next week or so, until Jiraiya has burned through all of his cash and whatever he can bum off of Naruto—he’s ended up talking to the same stranger. Never at the same place twice, but—randomly. By the river washing clothes, or in the market buying dinner, or at a ramen stand that’s almost as good as old man Teuchi’s, or at the best camping spot along the road.

After the third time, Naruto thinks about being suspicious. He and Jiraiya are hardly falling a set path, after all, and to keep bumping into the same stranger—that probably means something. But—

But he’s nice.

It probably says a lot, that Naruto is still so unused to people showing him any sort of kindness at all.

“You must have been training pretty hard,” the man says, the first time they talk. He’s eyeing Naruto’s scorched, battered clothes with something that might even be respect, and he meets Naruto’s startled look with a smile as he tugs the blue scarf from around his neck.

“Uh, I try my best!” Naruto says, offering him a smile in return even as he rubs the back of his head a bit sheepishly. His clothes are in a pretty horrible state; Naruto isn’t sure he’s going to be able to patch them enough to wear, though Jiraiya probably won’t notice either way. He might even start campaigning for Naruto to switch to being a girl again so they can travel that way. It’s not that Naruto minds being a girl, but he doesn’t want to play eye-candy for his perv of a godfather. That’s just creepy.

“I could use some practice, if you want to spar,” the man offers. He grins, and adds, “I’m Kono—uh. I’m Konomaru!”

Well, that was…suspicious. Naruto eyes him for a second, but when he doesn’t sprout tentacles and fangs or start monologuing, he figures the guy is probably okay. He’s not getting any weird vibes off of him, at least, and Naruto even gets those off Jiraiya, as fond as he is of the pervert.

“Nice to meet you!” he answers cheerfully. “I’m Naruto!” Jiraiya’s drilled him on not offering a last name—or his status as a jinchuuriki, but Naruto would hardly tell anyone that willingly under pain of death—while they’re nominally laying low, so he doesn’t immediately announce his dream, either. No need to connect all the pieces for him if this guy is an enemy.

But, when he glances up, there’s no sign of villainous posturing about to start. Instead Konomaru is smiling, gentle and almost fond as he looks at Naruto, and—

It’s really not a way anyone has ever looked at Naruto before. Not even Iruka looks at him quite like that.

A little flustered, he ducks his head, pulling his black t-shirt off and dumping it with the rest of his things to be washed.

Konomaru promptly makes a noise like he’s choking on his tongue.

“You okay?” Naruto asks cautiously, watching him cough and turn red.

“Yep!” the man squeaks, in a pitch way higher than any Naruto has heard since Kiba hit puberty. He fans his red face with one hand, still coughing. “Sorry, uh, water. Went down the wrong way.”

Naruto’s fairly certain he wasn’t drinking, but he just shrugs and goes back to his clothes, debating whether to get his needle and thread first or just wash them. Probably better to see if they can be salvaged at all first.

“Are you a ninja too, then?” he asks, digging through his pack. He’s getting low on thread, but given how ripped his jacket is from the last time he experimented with the Rasengan, it’s not going to matter.

“I am!” Konomaru sounds a lot cheerier. “I even made jounin at seventeen!”

He’s probably a bit over that now, Naruto thinks. Nineteen, maybe? “That’s awesome,” he agrees, grinning up at the man. “I’m going to make jounin soon too, believe it!”

“I’m absolutely sure you will,” Konomaru says, giving him that smile again.

They never get that spar, since Jiraiya ends up getting kicked out of town for propositioning the headman’s wife while drunk, but they talk the next few times they run into each other. Each meeting is a few weeks apart, in different villages, but it’s clear they’re both traveling and Konomaru is delighted to see him every time.

It makes something warm twist in Naruto’s stomach, and…it’s not the loud-bright pay attention to me that Naruto felt about Sakura. It’s a little quieter, a little sharper, and sometimes when it’s dark he lies awake in his bedroll and just…thinks about Konomaru.

It’s probably definitely a crush.

“You know,” Konomaru says one night as they’re setting up camp together, Jiraiya back in the town and water for ramen waiting to be boiled. (It’s Konomaru’s favorite food too, and Naruto thinks that just makes him even more awesome.) “You said you’re training with a master, but…I haven’t seen him around.”

“He’s busy,” Naruto says, and keeps it cheerful through long practice lying about things like that. It’s not precisely a lie, because Jiraiya is busy, and he’s definitely doing important work, but—

Naruto just wishes that sometimes their training was more than just being told what to do before Jiraiya disappears again.

When he glances up, Konomaru is looking away, scratching at his cheek with a slightly uncertain expression. He swallows nervously, glancing at Naruto and then away again, and says abruptly, “My—my name’s actually Konohamaru. Sarutobi Konohamaru.”

Naruto blinks. He takes in the familiar blue scarf, the faint flush, the face stripped of its baby fat, and—

“Like—like my Konohamaru?” Naruto asks disbelievingly.

Konohamaru flushes further, ducking down to hide the bottom of his face in his scarf. “I time-traveled to save you,” he blurts. “And—and I’m going to help you save the world and then I’m going to save you because—because you’re Boss and you’re my rival and definitely have to make it to Hokage again so I can beat you…” He trails off, his face as red as the Hokage’s robes, and makes a noise of despair. “Oh gods, I screwed it up, that was supposed to sound cool and I totally failed, Boss, I’m so sorry but you’re so cute like this!”

Naruto is still kind of stuck on the time-travel and save the world parts.

And the cute part. Definitely that.

But—

But that’s definitely Konohamaru, loudly berating himself for being so uncool, and Naruto can’t help but laugh. Konohamaru glances up at him warily, like he’s just waiting for Naruto to take off running, but Naruto just offers him a smile.

“So where do we start?” he asks cheerfully.

Konohamaru’s face screws up like he’s about to cry, jounin or not, and he throws himself across the space between them to slam into Naruto’s chest, wrapping his arms around his waist and wailing, “Boss is still definitely the coolest!”

There’s heat creeping up Naruto’s cheeks, but he just swallows and ignores it, patting Konohamaru on the head. “Saving the world?” he prompts.

Konohamaru brightens. “I have a list!” he says proudly.

He does indeed have a list. And it starts with tracking down another jinchuuriki and learning how to make friends with the Kyuubi.

Naruto definitely gets the feeling that he’s not going to be bored again for a very long time.


(They leave Jiraiya a note. Naruto almost feels bad for that. But definitely not enough to change his mind.)

anonymous asked:

Any Josh tonight mom?

sure


You’re cuddled up on the sofa, your head in Josh’s lap as you watch Varsity Blues; it was one of your favorite movies since you saw it as a child, but you’d never let Josh know that. His fingers are playing with your hair, delicately enough to almost make you fall asleep right there, but when he shifts his thighs slightly, you groan softly, setting your hand on his knee to make him stop moving.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “Were you asleep?”

“Almost,” you whisper.

“Oh, well, that’s a shame,” he replies. “Real shame.” You can tell from the tone of his voice and the way that his fingers are now gently rubbing your shoulder that he’s trying to lead you into asking him what he’s talking about. You don’t give in to his trap immediately, instead focus on the movie, deflecting his comment; you feel him shift around again, as if he’s trying to discreetly get your attention.

“What is it, Josh?” you sigh.

“Nothing,” he replies. Again, the tone of his voice is telling: he’s pouting to gain sympathy. You let out a groan, rolling over to set on your stomach; you settle your arms on his thigh and rest your head on top of them so you can peer up at Josh. He’s looking at the television, pretending that he’s not paying attention to you.

“Josh,” you say. “Look at me.” He turns his attention to you, trying to hide the grin that’s beginning to creep up on his lips. “What is it?” you repeat.

“I wanted to do something.”

“Like what?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he mumbles. “You’re too tired.”

“Joshua William Dun,” you say. “You’d better tell me right now.”

“Okay, fine,” he says, shuddering at your words. “I hate when you call me by my full name.”

“That’s why I do it.”

“I was thinking…maybe you could…” He trails off, scratching the back of his neck.

“Say it.”

“Sit on my face.” You stare at him for a moment, seeing him avoiding eye contact with you while his cheeks flush.

“You want me to sit on your face, huh?” you ask, biting your lip. He nods his head, still refusing to look at you, instead focusing on the television again. “Okay,” you say. Josh’s head snaps in your direction, eyes wide as if he didn’t expect you to agree to his request. He looks eager, excited, but then his face changes to something more concerned. “What is it?” you ask, sitting up on your knees beside him.

“I want to get you off only using my mouth,” he explains. “So I need you to pin my hands down so I’m not tempted to use them.” Your face heats up at the thought of having some control over Josh; he was always the dominant one in sexual situations, and for him to demand that you incapacitate his hands, as he generally did for you, makes your stomach twist into knots. “Do you think you can do that?” he asks, lowly.

“Y-yes, sir.” You always knew that when he was turned on, you were only to refer to him as ‘sir’ and refrain using his real name; it would wind him up even more, making him even more ravenous.

“Good,” he says.

He moves from the couch and lays on his back on the floor, in the center of the room. Once he’s settled, he peers at you, waiting for you to join him. You stand from the couch, slipping your shorts and panties off of your legs; you walk towards him, lowering yourself down so you were resting with your knees straddling his head.

Josh stretches his arms out on the floor above his head, staring up at you; taking the hint, you wrap your fingers around his thick wrists, pinning them down to the floor. It’s a strange feeling to have any sort of control of Josh, but when you notice the look in his eyes, it’s clear that he’s aroused by it.

From this new position, you realize that you have more power than you originally thought you would have, and from the way that Josh is looking at you, he doesn’t realize it yet. He licks his lips, waiting for you to lower yourself down onto him but instead you opt to tease him.

You shift yourself, lowering your core towards his face, watching the way he licks his lips and grins at the sight of you, already wet for him. You don’t move close enough for Josh to be able to reach you, and with his hands incapacitated, he can’t make you do what he wants. He tips his head up in an attempt to get closer, but you’re just far enough away from him that he cannot reach you.

“I give you an inch and you take a mile, huh?” he asks. “You think that if I wanted to that I couldn’t overpower you anyway and get what I want?”

“I’m sure you could,” you grin. “But you know how much fun I have teasing you.”

“You’d better let me taste that pussy before you get yourself in trouble.”

“Yes, sir,” you grin.

Finally, you settle onto him not putting your full weight down at first, but enough to allow Josh to get a taste of you. He trails his tongue slowly from your entrance to your clit, sending a shiver through your body; he flicks his tongue over your clit a few times before moving back to your entrance, pushing his tongue into you. Your fingers tighten around his wrists, sighing softly.

“Come closer,” he mutters. “I have to get my tongue deeper.”

You press yourself closer to him, watching between your legs as Josh cuts his eyes to your face; you can tell that he’s grinning, as he slowly works his tongue into you. He lets out a soft, groan, closing his eyes and rocking his head so he can delve his tongue deeper into you.

“Mmm, Josh.” You hear him growl between your thighs, eyes opening again so he can glare at you; immediately, you realize your mistake, and hurry to correct yourself. “I’m sorry, sir,” you mutter. “It feels so good, please don’t stop.”

Josh groans, pressing his open mouth to your clit, lapping at it, breathing hard against you. He suddenly tugs his hands, as if he’s trying to break from your grasp, but he lets out a groan when he feels your grip tighten on his wrists.

He begins to suck on your clit now, and your hands move so your fingers are laced with his, still pinning him down. When you move, your hips are pressed closer to him, and you begin to very softly grind yourself on his face. As you do this, you hear Josh moan against you, squeezing your fingers as he toys with your clit even faster.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” you gasp, closing your eyes and tipping your head back. You circle your hips faster, pressing down harder against Josh’s face just to hear his muffled moans.

Suddenly, Josh overpowers you, snatching his hands from your grip and hooking them around your thighs so he could bury his face against you. As he moves faster, fingers now digging into your thighs as he keeps you still, you struggle not to moan too loud; Josh, as if he could sense you holding back, smacks your backside hard.

“Jesus!” you gasp, leaning over him and pressing your hands to the floor.

You continue to roll against Josh’s face as best as you can, but Josh holds you so firmly against his face, you don’t have the ability to move as much as you’d like. When you feel your climax creeping closer, one of your hands grabs a handful of Josh’s hair and yanks hard. You moan loudly, nails digging into the carpet below you and letting go of your moans as loud as you can. Josh hums his approval, muttering incoherently against you.

Your climax courses through you, your muscles on fire as you continue to grind yourself against Josh’s face; he’s moaning just as loud as you are, locking you in place so you can ride out your orgasm. You place both of your hands on the floor above Josh’s head, bracing yourself as you try to come down from your high.

“Mmmm,” Josh hums, slapping you hard on your backside. You yelp, body still tender from your climax; you peer down at him, seeing him grinning up at you. Quickly, you roll off of him, laying on the floor beside him; when you tip your head to look at him, he’s smiling at you still while he licks the taste of you from his lips

“You’re never gotten me off without using your fingers before,” you mutter, running your hands through your hair. “You’re like a wizard with that tongue, aren’t you?”

“I can never get enough of the way you taste,” he says, with a soft chuckle. “We’re gonna have to do that a lot more often.”

February: The fall starts easy. I took baby aspirin, and a rusty spoon to my head, and smoked the stale weed my brother left in a broken vase before he left for college. Night comes fast, and tells the creation story. I ignore her this time. I don’t give a fuck about how I was made anymore tell me how I fall apart.

March: Nobody can ever find the raw spot on their leg until they start itching. I remember 6th grade when the mosquito bit my calf. Larvae and laps on the soccer field in early spring. He is oozing into my shoes with the mud.

April: My mother buried my rusty spoon, and took my brown hands. the clothesline was dripping carbonated orange soda sun, the wind was soft, the mice were sleeping warm beneath the floorboards; she spread my tarot on the floor with the forever broken and gnarled thumb she stuck in a blender when she was 5. That spring I walked home alone some nights, the heatwaves followed me like the labored breath of drunk men who don’t take no for an answer, I turned over The Devil and someone dropped a wine glass next door, she gasped, white eyes, the mice began to scrape and scream, the heatwave killed their children like it split my shoulders open and ate the youth inside.

May: The month of falling out of trees, junior high was gonna shipwreck any day now. There is a fast food place where the milkshakes taste like cough syrup and the skater kids cheat death on 3 feet of concrete stairs. There is a crack in the sidewalk in front of it, and he kick flips on it to break the back of the mother who left him at 13, he breeds violence between his fraying vans and then something in his ankle snaps, my oxygen goes tar black. He bleeds, he. Makes this sound. Like a dog when you step on its foot. I want to hold him, put a butterfly on his cheek, give him a band aid, something, God, something. He looks like he’s in pain. I want to. I don’t know. Help.

I walk away trembling and put my head between my knees behind a dumpster full of shitty milkshakes.

June: The neighbors fuck like rabbits while I’m trying to cry to joy division. I pray for a lightning strike. This type of poetry is for pretty girls, anyway.

July: my birthday flies into the glass of my bedroom window and breaks its neck. mom said the only things you can grow in summer that won’t die are grapefruit and hair, and I made a garden, I cut my chest open for Demeter each full moon. These locks were watered with gulf stream sea spray. I fed them bludgeoned daydreams. I threw my head against church doors trying to send Jesus some red flowers for his funeral, or maybe his birthday, doesn’t really matter, we celebrate both.

August: I got kicked out of high school knocking myself out on my desk. People carved hearts into the enamel, I carved my heart out of my chest and turned it in for my midterm. I slam dunked my skull into the bleachers on game day, and when the bleachers fell, into my history textbook, and when the book was mushy with blood, into the track field. I’m grinning ugly, dancing to the 80’s synth in an empty gym after homecoming, with a nosebleed dripping love songs down my yellow teeth, like words on old gravestones: here lies a moontoothed lover who will never rest in peace, every night she claws her grave and hears the call of western waves.

September: I’m high on concussion flavored car races in a stolen low rider, bluebirds fly in circles around my head after we crash, I wrote a song on a 5 dollar bill called blunt force trauma and it is about skater boys with broken noses, snarls of shaggy Jew fro his friends make fun of, and hands. that graze los angeles highways while he rides asphalt waves, slam his locker, and give the finger to the education system he keeps tripping over like untied shoelaces. he pricks those hands sewing together the lackluster parties private school kids throw. he puts his dewy rose bud lips to the jack daniels bottle, and kicks the drum kit over, gives it mouth to mouth, pump his fists into someone’s chest, gives it a pulse again. hands big enough to steal grapefruit with, the size of my swollen heart. I didn’t know it could get that big but he bumped into me, buzzing like a light saber, sky walking out of the grocery store with a grapefruit. with my heart.

October: do you have a girl do you? have a lover? Jupiter is orbiting around whatever this emotion is called, the rollercoaster one. when you look at me. We spend Halloween turning into werewolves at the library, you were moshing in the kids section, bleaching your hair in punk rock, I was banging my bruised and knuckleheaded love poems into a paperback copy of Romeo and Juliet, brushing my hair with broken glass. That was the first day the blood on our hands was not our own, she shushed us and we laughed. High on Shakespeare and Jupiter gas, we dug our fangs into the dewy decimal system. You ask me my name, I tell you, you smile. We had matching bruises and I floated home.

November: You make me. Feel. You make me feel like I can speak to snakes. You make me feel like my hips have a purpose besides balancing bins of laundry, and bowls of fruit. You make 17 stop feeling like a suicide note no one will read. you make me banshee scream and lick like fire against young pines, when you. dance. when you. kiss her, let her ride your double dutch hips, and your skateboard. She is a new coin, tangy on his numb tongue, and he tucks her in his pocket, his lucky penny. I’m the bubblegum he scrapes off his sneakers and throws into a storm drain.

December: I still cower into my pillow and smile a crooked smile, and go red at the cheeks, you. You put the red in my cheeks. I’m here, I’m exploding, why can’t you see me? Just put the bottle down, take your hand from your eyes, I won’t ask you what happened to your face, or how you got that scar, I will just like you and like you. we can buy angels wings in Hollywood, make an apartment out of crumpled homework pages at the bottoms of our dirty backpacks, we can drop out of high school, I will like you and dissect your sadness like frogs in freshman biology I am used to the rotting smell in your ribcage, I reek of it too. I will like you. until I know how to love you.

January: I switch schools, I cut my hair, bleach what little is left. It makes my mother unhappy, she thinks my spirit world is severing ties, she thinks my planets are discordant. I ask somebody back home about him, she says he dropped out and started working on cars.

I come down. Softly.

February (again, again, again): He was born to a rabbi and a beauty queen. I was born to a chemist, and a witch. Ammonia, bleach. Don’t mix them unless you want someone to die. Blood, adolescence, summer saltwater. Don’t mix them unless you want to make somebody wish they were dead.

—  2. a crush. and nothing more.

anonymous asked:

how about a good ol smut, no kinks/strap-ons, just alex and maggie using their fingers, tongues, scissoring, being just slow, sweet, and lovey dovey, just making casual love. Bonus if they are on Alex's kingsize bed, and Kara walks in on them, because Kara will never stop walking in on people

“What?”

Maggie just grins and looks away, dimples out and blushing full force.

“Nothing, Danvers.”

Alex tilts her head and furrows her brow, clapping her book shut and shoving it down onto her mattress, flipping her glasses up to rest on the top of her hair for good measure.

“No, Maggie, you were staring! What?”

Maggie bites the inside of her cheek and puts her left hand up to her chin, shuffling her feet slightly.

“Nothing, Alex, you just… You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And sometimes it just… hits me, you know? That you’re… everything that you are, and for some reason, you want to share yourself and – ” She tosses her hands up at Alex’s apartment, toward her massive, room-sized bed. “ – all this, with… me.”

Alex takes a deep, silent breath and purses her lips off to the side before shoving her book to the foot of the bed and patting the mattress next to her.

“Come here,” she invites, and she delights in watching Maggie pad forward, jumping up slightly to kneel beside Alex.

“You know I think the same about you? About how lucky I am to have you? I’m in awe of it every day. I’m in awe of you every day.”

“Alex,” Maggie whispers as Alex runs her fingers over her hair.

“Come here,” Alex invites again, and this time it’s a whisper. This time, it’s a plea. This time, it’s a prayer.

Maggie smiles and complies, letting her eyes flutter closed as her hair sweeps over to frame both her face and Alex’s, to frame the way their lips meet, soft and sweet and slow.

Alex sighs into Maggie’s mouth, and Maggie melts into Alex’s arms.

“Can I come on top of you?” she asks softly, and Alex brings her knees down immediately so Maggie can bring her body closer, so she can crawl up and over her legs and straddle her, their lips close the entire time.

“You’re so warm,” Alex whispers when she runs a tentative hand up Maggie’s shirt, and Maggie leans back with a grin.

“Nebraska girl, California weather,” she breathes, putting her hands on the hem of her own shirt and asking with her eyes if Alex wants her to take it off.

“Please,” Alex whispers eagerly, and Maggie tugs the t-shirt over her head smoothly, leaving Alex breathless because she’s not wearing a bra under it, because her skin is bare and Alex can see every scar and every stretch mark and Alex loves every part.

Maggie grins and goes back down to kiss her, but Alex stills her with soft hands.

“Wait, wait, wait. I just… I just wanna look at you.”

Tears sting Maggie’s eyes and she nods and breathes deep, breathes slow, breathes the way Alex outlines her body with trembling fingers, leans forward to paint murals on her torso with reverent lips.

“May I?” she asks with her hands, her lips, hovering just shy of Maggie’s breasts.

“Yeah,” Maggie whispers, and god, Alex’s fingers, her lips, her tongue, are gentle fire, tracing every nuance and every bump of Maggie’s chest, tracing circle after smaller circle until she looks up to confirm and Maggie whimpers softly with gentle fingers tangled in Alex’s hair, and it’s all the permission Alex needs to close her mouth around Maggie’s slowly hardening nipple.

“Ally,” Maggie pants with her head tossed back, and Alex moans softly as she works her tongue every which way across her nipple, one hand snaking around her arched back to hold her up, to hold her steady, the other grasping at her other breast, teasing her other nipple in gentle rhythm with her tongue.

“Alex, I – ”

Alex stops immediately, but Maggie whines in protest.

“No, god, don’t stop, I just… I want more…”

“More of what, princess?” Alex husks softly, and Maggie whimpers again and grinds her hips down around Alex’s.

“More of you.”

Alex beams and shifts Maggie easily off of her, not worrying for even a moment that she won’t have room, because her bed can more than accommodate what she has in mind for her girlfriend next.

She kneels and she shucks out of her own clothes slowly, keeping her eyes the entire time on Maggie, who’s topless and panting and leaning up on her elbows like she’s staring at a work of art.

Alex leaves her glasses on top of her head for good measure, and Maggie grins softly, appreciatively.

“Like I said, Danvers. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I want more of you too, Maggie,” Alex tells her, and her statement is a question, and Maggie answers with a smile, answers by digging her heels into the bed and arching her hips up so she can pull off her boxers, giggling along with Alex as she tugs off her socks and chucks them somewhere into the kitchen.

“I hope they didn’t wind up under the counter again,” Alex muses, and Maggie smirks.

“That really the life problem you wanna occupy yourself with right now, Danvers?”

She licks her lips and she spreads her legs and Alex gulps and Alex splutters and Alex nearly passes out because Alex is very, very in love and Alex is very, very gay.

“I uh… I wouldn’t call this a… a problem…”

“Two choices, Danvers. Argue semantics with me, or get over here and make love to me. Or get over here and let me make love to you. So, three choices, I guess.”

Her words are sarcastic, but her voice is honey and her voice is affection and her voice is, in a word, love.

“The last two, please,” Alex whispers as she crawls forward with a smile, and Maggie returns her grin into their deep, deep kiss.

“Good choice, Alex.”

Alex hums in response and Maggie relishes the vibration the sound creates through Alex’s tongue in her mouth. She gasps softly as Alex shifts so her thigh is between Maggie’s legs.

“Good?” Alex confirms.

“Very,” Maggie grabs gently at her ass and pulls her closer.

It’s Alex’s turn to gasp as Maggie raises her own knee and takes Alex by the hips, her eyes never breaking contact as she uses her hands to encourage Alex up and down, up and down her thigh, moaning contentedly when Alex picks up her own rhythm and lets herself ride Maggie’s thigh with abandon, with peaceful recklessness, with trust and with soft screams of her name, of you’re beautiful, of I love you.

“You wanna cum for me, gorgeous?” Maggie asks, her voice thick with raw need, and Alex unravels, her entire body convulsing around Maggie’s thigh, in Maggie’s strong hands, her glasses falling off the top of her head and onto Maggie’s chest, and Maggie doesn’t care because god, god, god, this woman is perfection.

“Switch places,” Alex husks as soon as she rides out her last wave, but Maggie shakes her head.

“Babe, rest, you don’t have to – ”

“Oh, I am gonna rest. I’m gonna lay on my back for you and you’re gonna ride me like I just rode you until you cum as hard as I just did. Sound good?”

Maggie splutters and Alex chuckles as Maggie eagerly flips her over onto her back, slipping her thigh between Alex’s legs.

But when Alex goes to bend her knee, Maggie shakes her head.

“I wanna ride you, babe, but not your thigh right now. I want to feel your clit on mine.”

Alex hisses and tosses her head back into the pillow and shifts eagerly, shifts desperately, so Maggie can turn enough, adjust enough, until she’s dripping onto Alex’s own wetness, and the overwhelming heat of it, the way Maggie’s eyes flutter closed at the contact, wrecks Alex completely, thoroughly, permanently.

She knows Maggie can’t cum like this, no matter how hot they both find it – she can never get enough pressure, even on top, to toss her over the edge without hurting them both – so when she feels Maggie starting to lose control of her rhythm, when she feels her clit throbbing and soaked and desperate, when she hears her hissing in ecstatic frustration, Alex rasps, “Maggie, I wanna be inside you,” and Maggie practically topples over in eagerness to accommodate Alex’s hand between her legs.

“That something you want, babe?” she teases, her voice pure love, and Maggie chuckles raggedly.

“Hush up and fuck me, Danvers,” she croaks, and Alex makes sure her wrist is at a good angle, and Alex complies.

Maggie’s back arches and she tosses her head back and Alex’s name is a plea, a prayer, a hymn on her lips.

Alex slips one finger, two, more, deep, deep inside her, resting the back of her hand on her own thigh so that when Maggie grinds down for more pressure – riding Alex’s fingers for all either of them are worth – she gets enough of it to wreck her completely.

To toss her full and hard over the edge, to make her she collapse forward on top of Alex, bracing her hands onto the mattress, crashing her lips down to Alex’s as her body tightens around Alex’s fingers, as Alex whispers everything she needs to hear into her ear, everything about you’re beautiful and I love when you let go for me and I love you, Maggie, you, you, only you.

They’re so lost in each other’s eyes, in each other’s heartbeats, in each other’s arms, in each other’s love, that neither of them notice the front door opening.

And neither of them notice the front door closing, a blonde streak clutching at her chest and clawing at her glasses and muttering about “who doesn’t have a bedroom door? My sister. My sister doesn’t have a bedroom door. Sweet Rao I will never unsee that.”