can you all just watch this please i would be so happy

what's a fire and how does it - what's the word? - burn

so i have this disney playlist i listen to usually when i’m driving and i was blasting poor unfortunate souls this morning and i was thinking

what if ariel didn’t sign the scroll?

because she’s about to, okay, and she looks at the paper. the parchment made of seaweed, the ones that’s specially treated to survive underwater. and she thinks of her cave of treasures, her books that remain perfectly preserved underwater. “no thank you,” she says slowly, becoming keenly aware of air of this place, of the not-people she’d seen who hadn’t been able to pay the price for sea witch’s bargain. “i – no. thank you. but no.”

ursula tries to convince her otherwise, but ariel runs. she goes back to her cave, destroyed as it was by her father’s anger, and thinks.

she’s the daughter of triton. her books never got wet, though she lives in the ocean. she feels a pull inside her, to the land, to somewhere else, but what if – what if –

what if she doesn’t need the sea witch or her father to perform magic for her? what if she has her own?

ursula had wanted her voice because that’s how she performed her magic. singing in this cave had given it powers and protection, and when she saved her prince from the sea – she sang then too, to keep him safe, to guide him back to life and away from death.

so she has magic. she only needs to figure out how to use it.

so that’s what ariel does now. she’s quiet and keeps to herself, and her father and sisters think that it’s because she’s upset with her father, that she’s busy licking her wounds. she’s moved on from that. she has no trident, and is uninterested with fueling her magic with the souls of the damned like ursula has. so she needs to figure something else out.

she does what she’s not supposed to do, and goes where she’s not supposed to go, slipping past the guards and patrols to the one place in the sea that is forbidden to all of them.

the crevice in the earth where what remains of her grandmother lives.

ariel goes to amphitrite, and the sea goddess is so much bigger than ariel, the size of great whale as she curls at the bottom of the sea floor, too old and too tired to do anything more than sleep. “granddaughter,” the great being croaks, opening an eye as blue and as unfathomable as the sea, “you look like me.”

“they say i look like my mother,” she says, and to herself adds: that’s why father can barely stand to look at me.

“you have more of me in you than your mother,” she says, and she shifts and pulls her mass of red hair over her shoulder. “more of me in you than your father does, even.”

“i have magic,” she says, pulling her bravery to the fore as she swims closer to her grandmother, “i want you to teach me how to use it.” amphitrite pushes herself up, and it’s the first time she’s moved in a millennia, and ariel notices for the first time that her grandmother isn’t a mermaid – she has legs.

she has legs.

“you have power,” amphitrite corrects fiercely, “and i will teach you to wield it.”

and so she does. ariel spends her nights by her grandmother, learning to harness the power of the sea that runs in her veins, and sleeps her days away while her sisters and flounder and sebastian grow more and more concerned, but she refuses to tell them why. she refuses to be stopped.

but her heart still aches. she fell in love with her prince, and she wants him still. so she swims to the edge, goes to the beach where his castle resides in the dead of night when her lessons with her grandmother are complete, and sings

. she’s careful not to let any magic leak through, only her voice. she does not want to enchant him. she wants him to love her as she is. so she sings, her voice clear and powerful and cutting through the air. she hopes he can hear it.

then one day a figure walks to the beach, and it’s him, her prince. “hello?” he calls out, “are you out there? are you – please, it was you that saved me, wasn’t it? won’t you come out and let me see you?”

so she does, waves her tail at him until he catches sight of her and takes hesitant, disbelieving steps closer.

“you’re a mermaid,” he says, eyes wide, “i thought i saw – but it couldn’t be.”

“i am, and it can,” she says, heart beating wildly in her chest. he’s just as handsome as she remembered, and she wants him just as much. “my name is ariel.”

“ariel,” he repeats, and pulls off his boots and goes wading into the water, watching her to see if she flinches away from him. she doesn’t, and his strides grow bolder. “my name is eric.”

“eric,” she whispers, and when he’s close enough he touches her, trailing fingers across the bare skin of her shoulder and tangling them in her hair.

when he kisses her, she feels powerful enough to undo the world.

so there’s that now, spending her nights with her grandmother and her prince, and she knows how to make her own legs now, could walk onto land and be made a queen among the two legged men.

but she’s a princess here first, and before she can do that she needs to take care of something.

ursula.

the rotten sea witch with her rotten sea magic won’t be allowed to torment her people any longer.

she tells her grandmother, and amphitrite smiles and says, “an excellent decision, child. i’ve enjoyed our time together, but i think it’s time for me to sleep once more. i’ve taught you everything i can.”

and tears prick ariel’s eyes, but she holds them back. she knew that it couldn’t be forever, that her grandmother can’t die but no longer desires to live and this is the in-between.

“you’ll be an amazing queen,” amphitrite murmurs, and closes her eyes for a millennia more.

this isn’t something to be done in the dead of night, although it would be easier to do it then.

she will make a spectacle of it, she will remind the sea that her people are not to be trifled with.

once upon a time they feared a blue eyed, red haired sea queen with the power to destroy them all. it’s time for them to do so again.

so she drives ursula to the center of the city. her sisters cower and people hide, and her father comes rushing forward to save her.

“you’ve committed great crimes against my people,” she says, not flinching as lightning gathers in the sea witch’s hands, “so now shall a great crime be committed against you.”

“foolish girl,” the sea witch snarls.

triton is yelling. he won’t get there in time.

he doesn’t have to.

she doesn’t need to sing anymore. instead she lifts her hands and pulls ursula apart without ever touching her, not only renders flesh from bone but also sets free the souls she’s been hoarding, reverses the magic done to those who’d fallen into the sea witch’s trap.

they all stare at her, her people, her father, and her sisters. she looks to triton and says, “i’m not a little girl anymore.”

he opens his mouth, closes it again, then says, “i can see that.”

all at once everyone’s perceptions are turned sideways about their youngest princess. she commands a power that even her father doesn’t have access to, she’s not depressed and dreamy – she’s powerful young woman who knows exactly what she’s doing.

so she does what she wanted to do, she gives herself legs and steps onto the sand and launches herself into eric’s arms. she becomes his bride, and the rumors run rampant of what she is, of where she came from, but they can’t prove anything and so they rule.

they live long, happy lives. ariel is his consort, his advisor, his wife, his tactician, and his best friend. all those years reading drowned books have certainly paid off. she ages herself along with her husband, bears his children and then teaches them they ways of her – their – people.

her husband dies, and she disappears, like the stories of selkie women that everyone whispers around her. their children give their father a sea burial, and vow to see him again one day. what they know and none of their subjects do is this – their father’s body isn’t in that casket.

she returns to her ocean, her legs form into her glittering green tail, and she goes home. she uses her terribly powerful magic, and brings her husband with her. she went from princess ariel of the sea to queen ariel of the land, and now she’s back again.

she’s not quite a teenager, but neither is she the old woman she pretended to be on land. she’s returned her and her husband to the prime of their life, and as she gained legs to be with him, he now gives his up to be with her.

eric becomes a merman, and a prince by virtue of being ariel’s husband.

she returns to her family and her world without missing a beat, and they all welcome her as if she never left, treat her husband with kindness and respect.

because they all know.

it doesn’t matter that she’s the youngest. when, far in the future, triton’s reign ends –

ariel’s reign will begin.

{PART 28} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; Tricking Yoongi proves to be easier than you could have ever hoped, as you stumble upon just a taste of what your awakened abilities can achieve. However, in your haste to serve Yoongi punishment for his crimes; you and Jungkook learn that that life and death are just a means to an end - for every living thing…must one day, die.

“To play God not only means to give life; but take it as well. As she stared into the abyss, it stared right back at her…and she finally realised the true meaning behind all things living; even herself.”

|| Warning: This chapter contains mentions of blood and scenes that readers may find upsetting ||

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time)

{Part 1} //{Part 27} {Part 28} {Part 29}

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anonymous asked:

Hey, hey! Shy anon here. Would you like to share your Klance headcanons, please?

heuheuhehuehueheu don’t mind if i do

  • Lance loves Keith’s hair
    • listen. you do not constantly comment on the feature of someone else unless you are coveting it or jealous of it or love it in some way
    • lance: god your hair is stupid
      keith: then why are you running your hands through it right now
    • in all honesty, Lance loves to play w Keith’s hair???? he will braid it then run his fingers through it til it untangles then braid it again or just play with it and Keith will doze off with his head in Lance’s lap
  • they get in fights
    • a lot
    • and it’s normal and it’s okay because, in every way, opposites attract, and Lance is scared of Keith’s impulsiveness and is worried it’s gonna get Keith hurt, and Keith doesn’t understand why Lance keeps putting himself down every time someone tries to compliment him and it’s this cycle where they both eventually start to realize that maybe they have to concede their stubbornness and listen to make this work
    •  usually it ends with one of them kissing the other quiet mid-fight and gripping their cheeks and whispering “I love you, you know that?” 
  • Lance sings them to sleep when they spend the night together in one of their rooms
    • it starts off as playful, joking, annoy-the-shit-outta-Keith sing-song, until Lance starts to sing one of his favorite songs from back home and he finds he can’t make it a joke anymore because there’s this hole in his heart and it hurts so much that he has to stop because he can’t breathe anymore
    • Keith just rests his hand over Lance’s heart and whispers soft reassurances until he calms down again
    • and a little later, when Keith asks Lance to sing again for him, Lance can do it without crying this time, and it becomes their nighttime ritual, Lance humming and singing soft lyrics as they stare up at the dark ceiling that they both know will never feel like home
  • Keith likes making out
    • very much
    • to the point where their lips are numb and they can’t feel their jaws and both of them are panting and kind of pawing at each other’s faces and pushing into one another but they’re really having trouble breathing now, but they still can’t stop 
  • sometimes the two of them will just go hang out inside of Blue because Lance loves his girl and Keith loves watching Lance talk to her and get excited when buttons light up after Lance asks a question, because the way the two of them interact is so sweet, bordering on endearing, and what makes Lance happy makes Keith happy too
  • whenever Keith and Lance are stargazing out of one of the many floor-to-ceiling windows throughout the castle, Keith will always point out a blue star and say “Look. Just like your eyes.”
  • those bone-shaking, armor-clacking, rib-crushing hugs after near death battles? yeah. lots of those.
  • spooning that turns into annoyed kicks because Keith hates getting too hot and “fuck off, Lance, you’re sweaty” and “c’mooooon, you love it” and “oh my god, I will put you on the floor” 
  • Keith is a cat person so when they go to a planet and the aliens who needed help are literal cat-people with toe beans and floofy ears, he’s in near tears the entire time and he’s like “hi sorry, I just-sorry, can I-sorry-can I touch ur toe beans” and the cat-person is like “whom” and Keith is like “PLZ CAN I HOLD UR HAND” and the cat-person is shook bc a Paladin of Voltron wants to Hold Their Hand so of course they say yes and Keith nearly passes out bc he is touchin the toe beans
    • also, turns out that as much as Keith loves cats, he’s fuckin allergic to them (and he already knew this so rly he’s just a masochist) and starts uncontrollably sneezing for the entirety of the mission, but despite it all, he is still smiling and sniffling and just so Happy that he met real live cat people who let him touch the toe beans
  • sometimes when Keith gets really upset over something that’s happened or a battle that almost went horribly wrong, Lance will just hook his pinky finger around Keith’s and it’s like this thing that grounds Keith and helps him focus and close his eyes and breathe, because he knows Lance is there and that they’re gonna be okay
    • Keith never really knows how to vocalize his thanks to Lance for these moments, so he just lets it speak through his actions, like when they’re all heading to bed for the night and Keith stops Lance just to press their foreheads together for a moment before kissing Lance gently on the lips
Miraculous Headcanon

Warning: i have been adding to this headcanon for nearly a month so it is pretty long xD OOPS SORRY NOT SORRY (i did put a cut though, so, yeah) NO REGRETS

  • Marinette is a youtuber
  • Her channel consists of mostly sped up videos of her drawing designs and making her designs. Some have voice over, some have soothing and relaxing music.
  • Her channel blew up
  • Partially because, wow, she’s really talented for only being in high school
  • And people just really enjoyed watching her work, it’s very unique
  • Sometimes she’ll do simple tutorials on how to make a simple skirt, or get started on designing, but those are more rare videos
  • She has a second channel that is less professional than her main, where she posts a bunch of random vlogs that her and Alya take whenever they do something interesting, or even some random challenges. Most of these videos involve Alya, since she got Marinette to make a second channel for fun vlogs
  • Her international followers (#subtitles) find it very interesting anytime she talks about Ladybug and Chat Noir because there are legit superheroes in Paris and no other part of the world has seen that.
  • They vlog all sorts of things
    • going to the craft store for new fabrics, buttons, patterns, literally anything Marinette needs for her next project (or they’re just bored)
    • They record random things they see around Paris, cosplayers of LB and CN, pigeons being weird, aesthetics
    • Alya and Marinette have a weekly “review” which includes Alya buying something for Marinette to review- mostly themed around her favorite heroes
    • Sometimes just walking around the mall. Nino is spotted in many vlogs as well, but Adrien is rarely seen since he is already around so many cameras in his normal life Marinette is respecting his privacy
  • A lot more below the cut because I have been working on this headcanon for nearly a month!

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Lachesism! Lance

sooooo this is something me and @moppingleshitoutofyou came up with a while ago, hope yall enjoy!!

you can check out some of my other mini fics here


Lance didn’t really know when it started. There were too many incidents to pinpoint its exact origins. It could have began when he tried to jump out the window when he was six to prove that he could totally fly Marcos. Or when he was nine and ate a bee when Lily said they were dangerous, because how dangerous can a chubby little bumblebee be? It was like it was always there, this little voice urging him to prove his worth through dangerous tasks.

it wasn’t until he was fifteen when the real trouble began. 

Once again, the origins of the power he was given was unknown to him. He sorta just woke up one day and bam, he felt the emotions of everyone in the house. To say it was overwhelming would be an understatement. He could practically taste his mother’s worry and his sister’s sadness and he just wanted to help them you know? Ease their pain, because no one deserved to feel those emotions. Perhaps it was then that he became aware of the feelings his felt since he was a kid. He had a form of lachesism, or at least that’s what the therapist his parents forced him to go to told him.

It took countless hours of research to figure out what the hell lachesism even was, since it wasn’t something that simply popped up in everyday conversations. And the whole emotions things? Yeah, it took a while to figure out how that fit into this mess. 

In fact, he was still trying to figure it all out when he went to the Garrison, which was yet another mess because he could feel all of the students’ emotions too. His family’s emotions were barely a sliver of what he had to endure every day. There was just, just so much sadness here. It was like a new wave hit him every time he moved, encasing him in this bubble of hurt. It was too much at times, causing him to spiral into anxiety attacks when Hunk was asleep. 

Yet, he thrived in the pain he was forced to endure everyday. Maybe it was the fact he was given this power to know what everyone was feeling, but he finally felt like he was worth something. Who else could stand feeling other’s emotions constantly thrown at them, if they were not at least worth something. Call it middle child syndrome, but Lance finally felt like he could make a difference. He could help these people! All he had to do was try to keep them happy and their sadness would begin to melt away. 

Thus, class-clown Lance was born at the age of 16, who was always there to crack a joke. He learned to talk more to make others feel comfortable and laugh loud enough for everyone to feel included. Finally, Lance felt clarity in his mind for the first time in years, and he was able to truly believe he had worth.

However this only solved the problem for a bit, as smiles can only go so far. Soon the sadness returned, albeit weaker than before, but it was still there. This unsettled Lance more than he thought it would. How could he help now? How could he prove he was more than just a cargo pilot? He was already struggling to keep up with Keith and now this? 

It was when Lance was comforting Hunk after a panic attack did he realize just how far his powers could reach. 

The two had been cuddling when Lance felt this pull, this tug towards Hunk’s emotions that he never felt before. He followed it of course and the feeling was indescribable. It was like he drowning in Hunk’s emotions, each feeling circling around him, urging him to touch, to feel. Shakily, he mentally reached out for the anxiety that kept bubbling up and it was like he sinking in this void of emotions that was endless. It wormed itself inside of Lance until it was gone, residing within him rather than Hunk. It was terrifying.

But Hunk’s smile after it was over, his slight laughter as he stated he felt better than he had in years, made it all worth it.


After being swept up in the whirlwind that was Voltron, Lance knew once again that he had worth. It wasn’t in his shooting capabilities or in his powerful bond with his lion or even in the persona he still continued. No, it was in the way he took away Pidge’s worry and soothed it with reassurance, how he slipped into Shiro’s room at night and removed the terror that plagued him to allow him a decent night of rest, and in the way he harbored Allura and Coran’s homesickness for the world they lost and offered them the feeling of family instead. This was his purpose, his way of showing his worth in subtle ways.

It took a toll on Lance though, the emotions he took away finding a home in his chest, weighing him down. He could feel the anxiety in his fingertips, the fear in his bones, and the never ending sadness in his mind. But it was worth it wasn’t it? He was protecting his teammates from the pain of these awful emotions, keeping up the spirits of Voltron through his pain. It was worth it. 

Blue didn’t think so. She’d often lecture Lance on overdoing it and how it truly wasn’t worth it, but couldn’t she see that it was? By him feeling this, surviving through this, he was able to see Pidge laugh freely and Hunk grow into his role as a paladin. Watch as Keith became more open to the group, his previous doubts now backed up with trust in his team. 

Oh cub, can’t you see how it weighs you down, how it tears you apart? She had asked one morning, specifically after a nasty panic attack. Can’t you see you’re worth more than this? That you’re more than just Lance, that you’re my paladin who doesn’t deserve this? Can’t you see?

But in the grand scheme of things, his wellbeing doesn’t matter, only that Voltron can still form. He was simply helping the process and he would be there for his team no matter what.

Despite this, Lance began to close in on himself. He spent hours upon hours with Blue, strengthening his powers so he could become more. He learned to manipulate the emotions, how to expel them onto others, making them feel the pain he suffered through each and everyday. He still went through his daily cleaning, helping each Paladin in whatever form they needed before heading back to his hangar and remaining there till night. The persona Lance built back at the Garrison had begun to crack, but it was fine because he was becoming stronger right? Now he could truly protect his team. He was no longer an emotional dump. He could send those emotions to whoever he pleased. He had worth.

The team began to get worried, however. They noticed how Lance began to close up, disappearing for hours on end. They knew they had to do something about it, but how?

“Maybe we could corner him?” Keith suggested, shrugging. 

“No, no, he wouldn’t tell us what was wrong if we did that. How about we call him up to the bridge?” Hunk replied, glancing at Shiro, who was pacing. 

“I don’t think that’ll work Hunk, you’ve seen Lance. Our best bet might be to go down to his hangar and speak to him there, the Blue Lion might help back us up,” Shiro sighed, looking down the hallway to where the hangars were,”I know he might freeze up but it’s the only option that gives us the backup of a lion.” 

The team nodded, Hunk simply turning silently, before beginning their dissent towards the hangars, nervousness tickling the back of their necks. It wasn’t long until they all stood before the door of the Blue Lion’s hangar. With a quick glance at the team Shiro was about to open it when it opened on its own silently, shocking the team slightly. Blue hummed quietly in the back of their minds before disappearing, allowing the paladins to enter her hangar. 

Hunk almost fainted at what awaited them, the rest gasping at the sight before them. 

There in the middle of the hangar, sat Lance surrounded by a hurricane of black that swirled faster with each passing second. His eyes were squeezed shut, not seeing the paladins, yet they all felt like he just knew. It was when he opened his eyes that all hell broke loose.


Here’s Part Two !

anonymous asked:

dark rc would you please consider writing about how victor (and the rest of the Russian skate team) had a feud with the Russian hockey team bc of their constant flirting and attentions towards yuuri (who was completely oblivious at the war waging for his heart)??

This has been sitting in my inbox for over a month and I apologize for that, nonny! I wanted to try my hand at breaking through this writer’s block and this prompt was ripe for the taking. It’s not my best work by any stretch, but it’s something at least! I hope you enjoy.

+

There are few things that give Yuri pleasure—the taste of accomplishment like cinnamon sugar on the back of his tongue after landing a quad; having a comeback so cutting that he practically draws blood; that soft murrf a cat makes when it decides it trusts him; the little green screenshot arrow appearing next to Otabek’s name in Snapchat—but they all pale in comparison to whenever the Russian hockey team visits the rink.

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Mouth o’ Mine

Harry X Reader: Angst, smut

In which Harry’s no good with his words but he sure is good with his mouth.

Request? Yes:

some harry face sitting action maybe?

Author’s note: This is a continuation of “Mess o’ Mine.” I would suggest reading that first, if you haven’t already. I thought this was gonna be the end but then I fucked up so… there’s also a part 3. Hope you enjoy! I did!

Part 1: Mess o’ Mine // Part 3: Mind o’ Mine


You’ve been running through the events that have occurred, confused at the escalation and the outcome. No issues have been resolved, and there wasn’t really a conversation or discussion. You don’t know any more than you did when you heard Harry singing your poems. Has he used your writing in more songs on his album?  Has he read your whole journal? God, you hope not. One poem is bad enough.

Harry hasn’t been around, hasn’t tried calling for the two weeks since he showed up on your doorstep. You’ve flipped the channel whenever he shows up on your television and scrolled at record speed when he’s popped up on your social media feeds. Maybe you should feel relieved and cleansed of his toxicity, but you don’t. Instead, you feel a little broken, like your stomach is splintering into pieces, and your mind still feels split open. Not only that, but you can smell him, feel the weight of him on top of you, taste the foreign flavor of his mouth. This isn’t what you need.

A whole other wave of confusion has rolled over you in terms of your relationship with Harry, if there still is one. The two of you have crossed a line without any prior thought or contemplation. Years upon years of friendship have been threatened, and you’re not even sure how it happened. Why did he kiss you? How did the two of you end up in bed, naked between the sheets? If you were confused about it before, trying to figure things out has only worsened your introspection.

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like real people do p.2 | jungkook

summary: the feelings for your friends with benefits are changing. months pass, and you feel your gut telling you that you want more. you’re just not sure if he feels the same.

college student!reader, friends with benefits!jungkook

piece 1, piece 2, piece 3

this component is based off russ’s cherry hill

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Jealousy Games 02

Originally posted by yourpinkpill

Description: You decide to play a game of push and pull with your ex Jungkook, bringing Jimin along for the ride.

Pairing: JungkookxReaderxJimin

Genre: Smut (M)

Word Count: 6.2k

Index: 01, 02

Warnings: Jungkook’s POV, masturbation, dirty talk, voyeurism. 

A/N: Alright y’all. Here it is. After this chapter, we can officially head into everything @ellieljade and I have planned. You’re not ready, tbh. As always, thank you to Nicole for being my beta and soundboard. 

Enjoy~!

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Handyman

Handyman (m)

Word count: 9.4k

Genre/Warnings: smut, angst, sub!Jimin, dirty talk

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Summary: Jimin is your landlord’s son. After one stressful day he comes to fix your shower for you. You find yourself constantly thinking about him. Could he be the perfect submissive? (here’s some lovely Jimin moans for the occasion: credit to owner)

I’ve been working on this for forever so i’m excited about it! :)

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FACTS ABOUT CONNOR MURPHY (spoilers)

So I have decided to post all the facts and hints about Connor Murphy’s past that are shown in the musical. It’s hard to make out considering people in the fandom usually focus on the lies Evan tells to figure out Connor’s personality.

To get this conclusion (which I will post in a second) I literally skipped all scenes concerning Evan’s lies and went directly to the Murphy family and what they say. None of these facts/hints involve what Evan said about Connor.

First of all, I’ll say now that I have put my own interpretation on each of these facts.

And so, I will put all FACTS in BOLD.
Anything out of bold is my own interpretation and how I see it to be. It’s up to you to agree with me or disagree.

First, I will post my conclusions on each family member, and then afterwards, I will post the reasons for each one.

Zoe

Zoe was an emotional and verbal abuse victim. There is no evidence of physical abuse, although there were threats that could have potentially led to that. She has all the right to not grieve over Connor, in all honesty, she could have sent him to the police for what he did, but as an abuse victim, that is very hard to do. Connor was probably the cause of most of her insecurities and she hated him for that. The unhealthy habit of taking out his anger on the nearest person to him probably made him lash out at his sister whenever he had a panic attack. Judging by how he really did care enough to keep the creepy letter about his sister, written by Evan, in his pocket for 3 days before he committed suicide, it’s safe to say that he really regretted being mean to his sister and actually cared about her.

Connor’s mom, Cynthia

Connor’s mom was a woman obsessed with reputation. She’s known as the rich man’s wife, and wants more than anything to be a regular family. But because her son had mental illnesses, her perfect image was ruined. She acted as though she was there for him but when it came down to it, she did nothing. She pushed for therapy but after a while, her husband took him out of it because “it wasn’t worth the money,” and she basically went, “welp, I tried.” I will quote what I say later: Connor’s mom might not actually be sad that her son is gone, but rather, she’s ashamed that her family actually doesn’t care. It seems like Connor’s mom is filled with regret for not being there for her son, and she’s forcing her family to act like they regretted it too, because that’s what a real family should have been like. But this is only a personal theory.

Connor’s dad, Larry

Connor’s dad might be one of the main sources of his depression. It is very obvious to me that Connor’s dad believed him to be a disappointment. He didn’t grieve for his dead son and only played along to make his wife happy. He’s annoyed by the whole situation. It even seemed like he hated the fact that there was fake remnants of his son in Evan. Almost like he wished Connor wasn’t friends with Evan so he could just forget all about him and not need to deal with it. At some point he was a kind father. When they went to the orchard together for picnics, it seems like they were a happy family. Connor’s dad had played with their toy plane together and had some great memories. The whole family practically forgot about this, though. Connor’s dad didn’t cry at his own dead son’s funeral. I think that sums it up.

Connor Murphy

Connor was a complicated person. He had many different mental illnesses. I could research which ones he probably had, but there’s probably already a post somewhere on it already. One thing for sure, is that he was unstable. He might not have been like that his whole life, but at the time of knowing him, the time he was briefly alive in the show, he was incredibly unstable. Everything and anything could set him off, and he probably hated that about himself as well. Pushing away everyone near him that could possibly help and hating himself for doing so, spiraling himself into a closed minded world of self-hate and regret, which is something that many people can relate to, including me. He did a lot of horrible things to his sister and to his family. I don’t blame his family for not actually grieving him, he was a really bad person. The problem is, he could have been a good person as well. He had all the potential to get better. He talked to Evan, probably wishing to say sorry about pushing him earlier in the hall. He was trying, he wanted to try. He wanted to get better. He just gave up too soon.

This post is very long! I’m sorry. If you’d like to read more, I’m putting the reasons I’ve come to these conclusions under the cut.

Remember, ALL FACTS ARE IN BOLD. Anything else is my personal interpretation.

Keep reading

Birthday Girl (NSFW/Smut)

Originally posted by dailytomholland

Author: Arfrona-and-Marvel

Word Count: 2965

Warnings: Cursing/Sex

Pairings: Peter Parker x Reader

Type: Fluff, Smut

Note: Virgin reader and Peter :) 

Requested: nope

——————

Y/N’s POV

Peter covers my eyes with a blindfold and helps me stand up.

“This is kinky, Parker, what are you planning?”

Peter laughs nervously and I feel him getting more timid with his actions.

“Will you stop, Y/N? It’s just to keep the surprise a surprise.”

I giggle at his obviously flustered state from my sex joke.

I let him lead me out of the room to the unknown destination, one hand holding mine and the other on my waist as he gently pushes me along.

“Peterrrrrrr it’s taking so loooooong,” I whine, just to annoy him.

“Just a little farther, Y/N, bear with me here.”

My foot brushes against something soft.

“Is that another gym sock?”

“Uhhhhh… No it isn’t…” There’s a loud shuffle as he tries to kick the offending article away discreetly.

Oh, he’s so adorable when he’s lying.

He stops and lets go of my hand and waist. There’s a soft scrape to my left as he pulls out a chair.

Heh. Pulls out.

“Here ya go, love.” He takes my hand and gently guides me into the seat. He slips and I miss the seat, landing on the soft, carpeted floor instead. There’s a solid thunk as what sounds like Peter’s head collides with the wall.

“OH MY GOD PETER ARE YOU OKAY?” I tear off the blindfold and see the poor boy rubbing his head, where there’s bound to be a bump forming.

“I’ll live.”

“Oh you poor man-child, let me get you some ice.”

I rush towards the kitchen, noting the very nicely set-up dinner table for two.

He must be devastated that he couldn’t properly surprise me.

I stop as I enter the kitchen, trying to process the scene before me.

He hobbles up behind me, trying to stop me.

“Wait, Y/N, don’t go into the- ah shit you’ve seen it.”

I look around to see the room decorated with strings of lights and roses.

“Oh, Peter. You shouldn-” Peter kisses me before I could finish my sentence.

“You like it?” He asks as he pulls me closer for another kiss, deeper than the last.

I pull away before nodding, “Yes, Peter, I love it. Thank you.”

He beams at me before leading me to the table and pulling out a chair for me.

“My princess,” he jokes, gesturing for me to take a seat.

I sarcastically bow, “My knight.”

—–

After dinner, I stand up to help clean up the dishes.

Peter shoos me away and tells me to sit down while he takes care of it.

I don’t bother arguing with him, because I know fighting with him would be pointless with his stubbornness.

I stay seated while he collects the dishes and kisses my nose before leaving to wash them.

I watch him walk away and smile to myself as I take a rose from the vase on dining table and twirl it in my hands.

I giggle to myself as I think about our past two years together.

How sweet Peter was with his cute pickup lines and our weekly movie dates.

How shy he is when we kiss and how much of a gentleman he is.

I continue to reminisce until I see Peter standing in the doorway.

His cheeks are red and his hands are shaking a little.

He’s nervous.

“Peter, love, are you alright?” I ask.

He gives me a half smile and he walks over slowly, his body language screaming nervousness.

“Peter?”

“I, uh, I have one more gift for you,” he says.

“Peter! This is already so much, please that’s enough,” I laugh and I stand up to hug him.

He hesitates before hugging me back and now I see how nervous he really is.

“Peter? What’s wrong?” I ask, noticing that his legs are shaking.

He looks away from me as he reaches into his pocket and gives me a small index card with the letter V written on it.

Oh.

I look up at him questionably and he rubs the back of his neck, his face slowly acquiring the color of the roses on the table.

“It’s um. I-I, uh,” Peter stumbles.

“I get it Peter, V-Card,” I look up at him and smile before kissing his chin and then his nose.

“It’s a very unique present, Peter,” I say as I lean closer to Peter and kiss him again. He places his hands gently on my hips.

I lean back and smile, “So I can cash this in anytime I want?” I ask.

His face reddens a little before he nods.

“How about right now?” I ask slowly, hoping he would get a hint and suggest something.

He looks at me in the eye for a few moments before breaking contact and looks down at his feet.

“I’ve got another surprise for you, love,” Peter says, reaching over to the counter and giving me the blindfold again.

I look at him suspiciously before putting the blindfold on again.

“Just trust me, Y/N,” Peter says softly. I relax a little and reach out to hold his hand as he leads the way.

I am assaulted with a barrage of smells as we turn into a room, where everything sounds slightly muffled, as if it’s filled with soft furniture. My feet brush against… rose petals? I smell my favorite scented candles as well as… Febreze. Lots of Febreze.

Dammit Parker why don’t you clean this house more often?

His hands leave my shoulders for a few seconds and I hear some shuffling around me, no doubt he’s cleaning up whatever’s been left strewn around his ro-

The blindfold falls off suddenly and I’m left shocked at the scene in front of me.

Though I’ve been in his room a million times before, I’ve never seen it this clea-

Romantic. It’s never been this romantic.

Everything’s been swapped or covered with a red velvet and the lights are off, leaving only the candles to light the room. A gasp  escapes my lips. Peter, who is in the process of furiously trying to shove what looks to be a red and blue suit into the closet, whips his head around, eyes wide open.

“It fell off? Shit, now I can’t badmouth the baddies anymore about their lousy knots… Anyways, surprise?” he tries with a tight smile.

God, he’s so adorable when stuff goes wrong.

“Peter… just ask me…”

“Well, I mean you don’t have to, but… I…” Peter tries to start but fails to finish his sentence as I

lean closer, until our noses are almost touching. We stay that way, looking into each other's’ eyes for a while.

“Hi,” Peter greets me.

“Are you going to kiss me yet?” I ask, slightly impatiently. Face redder, than the cushions, he does just that.

He makes the first move, turning his head and closing the space between us. My lips meet his, agonizingly slowly. His hands cup my face and pull me closer, and I return the kiss with a passion I didn’t know I had. Our lips locked, he pulls us down onto the bed. One of his hands finds its way into my hair while the other one grasps my neck. My own hands find their way under his shirt and around the back of his head. He bites my lip, accidentally, and I jerk back, not expecting the bite.

“Oh my god Y/N I’m so sorry oh my god are you okay oh my god are you bleeding?” he babbles, moving his head around to check my lips.

I quickly run my tongue over my lips to check for blood

“I’m okay, Peter.””

“Hi, okay, Peter, I’m Peter,” he quips back,not missing a beat.

I laugh at Peter lightly before pulling down his pants.

“W-Wait, Y/N, are- are- are you sure ab-”

I cut him off with a finger pressed to his lips.

“Shhhhhh. Yes, Peter. I am sure. Now shut up and let me make you happy,” I say, kissing his nose to reassure him.

“But, I want to make you feel good fir-” Peter tries to object but lets out a moan instead as I palm his member through his boxers.

I smile as I gently squeeze tighter and watch him throw his head back and moan a little louder. I then pull down his boxers as I eagerly snake down his body and watch as his member is freed from its restraints. I wrap my hand around it and give it a small pump, a little intimidated by his size, even though it’s not fully hard yet. I watch as small beads of precum leak from his head and roll down his shaft. Without a second thought, I lick along the underside of his cock, starting from the base all the way to the tip. I swirl my tongue around the head, lapping up the droplets of precum.

I hear Peter groan as I pull him into my mouth, inch by inch, using my tongue to lick him slowly and hollowing my cheeks to suck him deeper.

I smile to myself as I hear Peter curse and moan above me, I feel his hands in my hair as he caresses my face, urging me to continue.

I lean back and pump him a little more before sucking the head of his cock again.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Peter moans as I start to slowly take in as much of him as possible and pull back. The tip of his cock hits the back of my throat as I take him deeper and deeper. I pump his shaft at the base with my free hand as I begin to feel my panties dampening.

“Y/N, please slow down, I don’t want to cum yet,” Peter practically begs.

I look up at him and smile to myself as I let him go with a pop.

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to calm himself down.

I take this opportunity to turn my back to him and take off my pants slowly. I bend over more than I have to so that I give him a good view of my ass. I can see his jaw drop in the mirror.

Pffft. He ain’t seen nothing yet.

My jeans join the not-so-well-hidden pile of dirty laundry in the corner. I lift my shirt slowly, especially around my chest, since I want him to see that I’ve “forgotten” my bra at home. I hear a sharp intake of breath as he realizes this. The shirt joins my pants and I’m left Stark™-naked except for my panties. I turn around to face him.

Are human even supposed to be that red?

He has a dumbfounded expression on his face that I’ve never seen before.

I laugh a little as I climb back onto the bed and kiss him.

He kisses me back after recovering from his shock. He flips me over so that I’m on my back.

He attacks my neck before traveling downward, past my exposed breasts leaving a trail of kisses past my stomach.

I moan loudly as he reaches my hips. He kisses all along the band of my panties and kisses my nether lips through the thin fabric.

I whimper as he hooks a finger into the elastic of my panties and pulls them down slowly. He leaves small bites on the inside of my thighs as he passes them. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the sodden article of clothing sail across the room in the general direction of the rest of my clothes. He works his way back up my legs, fingers ghosting the insides of my legs before parting them gently. His left hand grip the top of my right thigh as he uses his hand to spread my lips. I clutch the sheets as he dips a finger into my wet and aroused center. He smiles to me before scooting closer to my crotch, all the while making a “come hither” motion with his finger. His lips meet my other lips as his head comes down.

Within moments, his tongue finds my clit.

Has he done this before?

“I pay attention in sex ed, Y/N,” Peter jokes as my cheeks redden in the realization that I had said it out loud.

He chuckles a little bit before leaning in and kissing my thighs before sucking my clit again.

I moan loudly and clutch the sheets harder. I feel another finger join the first and his other hand moves up to hold my hips in place. I squirm and whimper as his tongue runs over my clit, lapping at the sensitive bundle of nerves. His fingers spread my opening  to give his tongue to my core. I shiver as his tongue moves in and out of my entrance.

“Ohh, fuck Peter…” I moan, willing him to go faster. He pulls his tongue out of me and he moves his two fingers again, thrusting faster than before.

His tongue moves back up to my clit and begins attacking the small nub at the top of my folds.

My moans become more incoherent as he continues to lick, suck, and lap at every single part of my most private area, leaving me a babbling mess.

As my walls begin to clench around his fingers, Peter speeds up his thrusting and ravages my clit harder as he feels me gets closer to the edge until he brings me over the edge. My back arches and my toes curl almost painfully as the immense pleasure of the orgasm wracks my body completely. I see stars as my eyes roll back into my head and a loud, breathy moan escapes my lips.

Peter sucks gently on my clit and slows his thrusting as the waves of euphoria roll over me, further intensifying the pleasure and prolonging my orgasm.

As the pleasure gently fades away, Peter kisses my clit, then kisses a trail up my stomach, stopping at my breasts. He licks each nipple, gently sucking on each one before moving on. He stops at my neck, planting a kiss there before moving his head up so that his eyes are level with mine.

“Do you want to go further?”

“No, Peter, I wanted to stop and talk about multi-variable calculus,” I deadpan, lacing as much sarcasm into my voice as possible.

He smiled devilishly and deadpanned right back, “It just so happened that I needed a little help with my calculus homework, can you help me integrate my natural log?”

I whack him softly with one of the red heart pillows on the bed. “I HATE YOU”

“No you don’t,”

He leans down to kiss me again before reaching over and grabbing a condom from the nightstand.

I laugh as he fails to open it before offering to help. He smiles at me gratefully as I put it on for him. I wrap my arms around his neck to pull him closer and kiss him.

I pull him down to the bed.

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you too, Peter,” I say as I guide his cock to my entrance.

I always thought I would be really nervous during my first time. But Peter made it comfortable. Peter slowly moved his hips forward and I gasped, not used to his size.

He’s bigger than I thought.

“Are you okay? Am I hurting you?” Peter asked nervously.

“No, it just feels kinda tight,” I say, trying to ease his nerves.

Peter continues to insert himself carefully. The pain fades away and it begins to feel pleasurable.

I moan a little and clutch Peter’s back as I quietly beg him to go faster.

Peter starts to thrust his hips at a moderately faster speed and I throw my head back and moan loudly, enjoying this new feeling beyond words.

Peter leans forward to kiss my neck making me mewl in pleasure as I move my arms around the back of his neck to pull his hair.

I kiss his neck and Peter groans loudly.

“Keep doing that and I am not going to last much longer,” Peter says as he leaves another hickey on my collar bone. He hastens his movements and starts thrusting harder.

“Maybe I don’t want you to,” I whisper breathily.

Peter straightens up and moves a hand down to my clit and rubs his thumb over it in quick, small circles, pushing me over the edge.

“Peter,” I moan before I see stars for the second time that night. As my walls clenched around his member, I felt Peter also reach his release, groaning loudly and burying his cock deep in my tunnel. His cock twitches and I feel the condom fill up as he releases his seed into me. He lies down, burying his face into the crook of my neck as he tries to slow his breathing. We lay like that for a while, both panting hard and coming down from our orgasms. After a few minutes, he pulls out slowly and kisses my face. I moan as he slides out, and I feel empty when he pulls out completely.

“You okay?” Peter asks.

“Mmm,” I respond, exhausted.

Peter laughs and goes to the bathroom to get rid of his condom. I whine, not wanting him to leave, but am too tired to go after him.

Peter comes back a few minutes later with a warm washcloth. He gently moves my legs to clean then before handing me one of his shirts and to wear.

I smile and put it on before lying back down on the bed and drifting off, murmuring, “I love you,” to Peter.

“Happy birthday, Y/N” is the last thing I hear before my reality fades into pleasant nothingness.

—-

Masterlist: x

Horror

Pairing: Peter x Reader

Requested by @spiderzenslaya

Warning:


Clint has created a chatroom.

Clint has added Peter, Y/N, Steve, Thor, Natasha, Vision, Sam, Wanda.

Clint: Anyone up to watching a horror movie?

Natasha: Your face is a horror movie.

Natasha: And yes, I’d love to see a horror movie.

Clint: Awww I didn’t know you love seeing my face ;)

Peter: I’m in, if Y/N’s in.

Y/N: I’m in if Peter’s.

Peter: oh no

Peter: my message delivered first!

Y/N: dammit!

Y/N: Decide!

Peter: No, you decide!

Y/N: Do you want to watch a horror movie or not?!

Peter: Only if you’re there!

Steve: Oh for crying out loud, I order both of you to watch the damn movie.

Keep reading

NHL!Bitty, Pt. III - Post-Season

Bitty loves Seattle as much as a southerner can love a city that barely sees the sunshine, and he loves his boys, but god bless it if he doesn’t cross his fingers and toes every year hoping to get picked up by a Metropolitan team so he can at least live on the same coast as Jack.

For a few blissful months every year, Bitty gets his husband back; and promptly does none of what he’s planned to do with said husband.

(Also, point-of-order, Jack’s three-year, 1.2 million a year Falconers contract is on the lower end of the spectrum. The average (2016) NHL salary is around 2.9 mil a year, meaning Jack went pretty cheap for someone being scouted by so many teams. Did our beloved Canadian hockey robot turn down mad-money elsewhere to sign with the Falconers? Probably.) 

Part I - Hug Check |  Part II - Chirping

_________

They’re both snuggled up together in a rare moment of post-season calm. Neither are keen to move any more than the absolutely have to; tucked into lopsided couch cushions while the television plays split-screened between another film missed in theaters and the NHL Network.

It’s been a long, hard-fought season for them both: the Falconers knocked out of the playoffs in the second round, the Schooners barely making a dent in the first. Combine that with their newfound ‘chronic’ injuries and Bitty is happy to just lie here, mindlessly groping any part of Jack he can reach: he’s currently got a handful of pec, while Jack alternates between Bitty’s ass and lower back. It’s not arousing at all, just comfortable; until Jack’s wandering fingers hit a sore spot.  

“You okay?” Jack whispers when Bitty flinches.

Keep reading

So, @thepsychicclam posted this, and then this happened:

Stiles listened to the latest musicians that Derek had brought to court to play for him with a wide smile and a thankfully small amount of hand movements. They were, as all the artists that Derek presented to him with startling frequency and fervor were, wonderfully talented, and playing a piece that had been commissioned just for him.

Sometimes, Stiles thought that his husband’s gifts and ever increasing support of Stiles’ interests might mean that his own feelings of deep abiding love may be returned by his king, but in his more reasonable moments he knew his love was unreturned. Derek had always been a generous and attentive man, even as a child he would allow Stiles to choose their activities and humor him in his frequent schemes. When Stiles proposed that they sneak into the castle kitchens to steal some of their favorite cakes, Derek rolled his eyes fondly (“They’re my kitchens, Stiles! And yours as well!” “Yes, but we aren’t meant to be in there now, silly!”) and acquiesced with enthusiasm as they tiptoed around the halls and into the pantry.

The head cook had found them covered in icing and failing to contain their laughter.

Thinking of it now brings a warm glow to Stiles’ chest even as it sets off a cascade of similarly joyful memories of growing up as Derek’s best friend. They were so close that Stiles had never considered that he would marry anyone else, though when he was old enough to understand that he was in fact Derek’s intended, the betrothal sent a panic through him. How could he ever think that a union with a man he loved so deeply, but could only look upon him as a dear friend, would bring him anything but heartache?

In the end, Stiles had decided that life without romantic love but with Derek by his side was far better than life away from the man who reigned in his heart.

Sitting now, beside his husband, ensconced in ornately carved thrones with soft velvet cushions, Derek’s arm resting close enough to his own that he can feel the warmth radiating from him, seeing his friends in court smiling and enjoying the music created just for him, Stiles knows he’s exactly where he wants to be. Even Boyd and Isaac, their usually stoic guards appeared to be enjoying themselves, though each man was regarding their kings with indecipherable looks.

Stiles takes a deep breath and turns to his husband only to find Derek looking back at him, a smile curving his lips in a way that still makes Stiles’ heart flutter. He can feel his own grin widen in response as Derek’s eyebrows raise in question. “Are you pleased, my dear husband?”

Stiles’ heart stutters then gallops at the thoughts that assail him, all the ways he’d like to please his king, the oft imagined looks of pleasure he’d like to paint upon Derek’s beloved face. He must get lost in thinking about how Derek’s skin would feel beneath his hands, because Derek’s brow furrows in concern. “Stiles? Is something the matter?”

“No, my king,” Stiles hurries to reassure, “I was simply trying to decide how best to tell you how perfectly lovely this evening has been thus far.”

Derek’s smile is so bright it puts the castle’s chandeliers to shame, and Stiles feels an elated pride bubble in his chest.

“I am exceedingly happy to hear you say so,” Derek says genuinely, the radiant smile still in place and the corners of his beautiful eyes crinkling slightly. The way Derek looks at him then, his entire regard focused on Stiles and the force of his honest joy makes Stiles forget that they are a couple bound by duty and friendly affection. It makes him believe for a moment that they share a love that will inspire artists for decades.

It emboldens him, and he places his hand over Derek’s, suppressing a shiver when Derek moves ever so slightly so that his thumb can run lightly over the outside of his pinkie. “I am exceedingly happy that you are exceedingly happy,” Stiles teases.

After another long moment simply getting lost in watching one another, a particularly evocative piece of the song draws Stiles’ attention and he turns to see how those gathered to dance interpret it. He can feel Derek still watching him, and it turns his smile small and private as he ducks his head briefly. Derek’s hand is still warm and real under his own, and as the evening stretches into night, it remains there, tapping the occasional rhythm against Stiles’ hand, their fingers eventually entwining.

Neither dares acknowledge it, but neither do they pull away. When it is time to applaud, the lost contact is nearly unbearable. When their hands automatically settle back together, Stiles feels like he’s soaring.

“Woman”

requested // no

requests are open // request here

TW // Smut, profanity 

I hope you can see the shape that I’m in when he’s touching your skin

Jealousy. It’s in his veins. It’s selfish, he knows, but he doesn’t want to see her with anyone other than him. They’re just dancing, it should be innocent, but she’s staring at him. She’s staring at him with that gleam in her eyes and a smirk on her blood red lips, she knows what she’s doing to him and she’s enjoying it. He craves her. her touch being the only thing that could cool his burning skin right now, the kind of touch that breaks voids of silence, but she’s not touching him she’s touching that stranger. Her pretty hands touching a man who doesn’t even know her name, a man who asked her to dance whilst Harry was standing right there. He’s got the image of her over the shoulder smile she sent him as she walk away with a man that wasn’t him. She can see he’s mad, whether it’s at her or the guy touching her she doesn’t know but she can see his hand gripping his drink as hard as he grips her neck and it makes her ache…

Tempted, you know

Temptation. The cruellest of all mistresses. He’d ruin her, he wants to ruin her. He wants to hurt her so good she bites the inside of her cheek to suppress her whimpers when she thinks of him. He wants to do everything that man who’s got his hands on her could never do because he doesn’t know her body the way Harry does. It’s driving him insane, she’s driving him insane and the longer she stares at him, the more she bites that goddamn lip of hers, the more he can’t resist the temptation of watching her, watching him. If she could stop being so fucking pretty; he could stop losing himself over her. He would never make a scene, that wasn’t him, he doesn’t need to. He knows what she wants and he’s more than happy to oblige. She wants the sparks between them to leave carpet burns on her knees, she wants him to confess his sins with his tongue in the church beneath her skirt, she wants him to destroy her and fuck he wants that too. When the song ends, that mans hands drop from her waist and she saunters over to him with a sway in her hips and that smirk still playing on her lips. It’s got his arm reaching towards her and his hand in her hair, pulling it back as he whispers “you’re going to regret that” into her ear in that voice that leaves her breathless. She doesn’t say anything; she’s too focused on how his rough hand is so gentle on the small of her back as he leads her outside and into the back of a taxi.

You flower, you feast

She’s the prettiest sin he’s ever touched. Her black dress a mess on the floor by the door; discarded so he can leave fingerprint bruises on her skin. She’s gasping and they’re not even at the bedroom yet but when they get there, oh god when they get there, he’s everywhere all at once and she’s overwhelmed. She’s so soft and he’s going to break her. He’s got her under his thumb and she’s squirming, she’s writhing, every move he makes is so intense and she can’t breathe. She blossoms at his touch, his touch, the only one who should be touching her like this; at all. His fingers are in her and it’s just not enough. She needs him, all of him, whimpers of “please” and “need you” being all she can get out has him falling apart. She’s his weakness and that desperate look in her eyes is going to kill him.

Wo-woman

Every essence of him is in her, his body is all electricity when he’s one with her. His hands are all over her, like leaving any part of her skin untouched would be a crime punishable by death, she’s red with hand prints and bite marks and she’s never loved her body more. She’s his and now no one would be able to ignore that, no unnamed man at a bar had anything on Harry. No man could make her feel like he does, she’s ruined for anyone else and he loves it. Her back is arched and his lips are between her collarbones, one of her hands in his hair and the other over her mouth and she’s there. His encouraging whispers in her ear of “good girl” and “that’s it baby” aren’t helping her come down from this state of bliss. She’s silent, too in awe of this feeling to make a sound, it’s never quite felt like this before and he can tell because she’s so impossibly tight. He’s falling apart, her mouth-open-eyes-squeezed-shut face pushing him so far off the edge he’s in disbelief. He’s gripping at her, almost as though he thinks she’ll disappear, he’s got his head buried in the crook of her neck and he’s groaning. His husky voice sounding more like a growl as he loses himself inside of her and fuck it’s music to her ears. When he’s done he collapses, still inside of her, face still in the crook of her neck and they’re quiet. The aftermath to their euphoria being comfortable silence. Him on top of a body so beautiful to him, painted in marks from him.

Woman 

Naughty Girl - Justin Foley Smut

Justin Foley x reader

Request:  Can you do smut with Justin Foley (13 reasons why) …(x reader) maybe..you didn’t fuck for a week because you have problems and he catches you masturbate and he is not happy about it so he punish you…

WARNINGS: Smut, rough, swearing


Me and Justin haven’t been talking for days. He practically pushed me off of him the other day and I’m pissed. For some reason we have been arguing more than usual. Just two days ago we argued cause Justin forgot to pick me up to go to school cause he decided to drink with his friends. It’s been leaving me frustrated. In many ways. Its Saturday night and Justin keeps calling my phone and leaving message after message.

Babe I’m sorry about the other day

Baby please pick up…

I’m sorrrrrrrry!

What do you want me to do?

I can bring strawberry ice cream for you 

Babbbbbby please answer me 

I roll my eyes and put my phone on silent. I’m more angry with him cause with all this arguing we haven’t had sex in over a week and it’s killing me. I have been wanting to slap him and fuck him at the same time and I think he knows it. There is a knock at the door and I say a small ‘come in’.

“Hey sweetheart” my mom peaks in. She’s all dolled and dressed up. I do that signature dog whistle and laugh. 

“Hey mom, where are you going looking all nice” I smile. 

“Me and your father are going out for dinner surprisingly”. I look behind her and see my dad with his thumbs up. I laugh and shake my head. I follow them downstairs as they put their jackets on.

“Okay have fun you too” I say, walking up to hug and kiss both of them.

“We will, come lock the doors behind us. And you know the rules n-”

“Yes, yes, no partying, no drinking, no smoking, no inviting strangers, no going out after 12 and call you if I invite Justin over.” I say nonchalantly.

“Good girl” she kisses my check while my dad rubs my head.

“See you kiddo, be safe.”

“I will, love you”

They both say quick ‘love yous’ and get into their car. I watch them drive off and quickly close the door and jog up the stairs back to my room. I look at my phone and see more text from a now angry Justin. I huff and turn my phone off. I lay on my bed and start thinking about where we went wrong. Just last week we were making love. Making love. I start thinking about how good it felt for him to be inside me with his hands roaming my body. I start thinking about his lips on my neck. Thinking about this started to make me feel hot down there. I continue thinking about his mouth on me and found myself creeping towards my underwear. I never thought I would do this, being that I had Justin, but obviously I don’t have him right now and I need something. I peel my underwear off and start rubbing around my heat. I keep thinking About Justin and imagine my fingers as his.

“Justin” I moan. My fingers speed up and I arch my back into myself. I grab onto my bare breast under my shirt and pinch onto my nipple feeling nothing but pleasure. I keep moaning, sliding a finger into my now wet core. I’m lost in my own world as I slide in another finger. I want Justin more, but this will have to do. I continue pumping in and out while moaning my boyfriends name. I need him so bad. I’m so wrapped up in my moans that I didn’t notice my door fly open. I jerk up and see none other than Justin. A very angry Justin. He looks mad, but his eyes look like something else. Lust.

“What the hell do you think your doing y/n” 

“I-I don’t know” I say, covering my naked body with my sheets. He walks up to the bed and yanks the sheet away from me, scamming my body up and down.

“What the hell were you doing”

“It was nothing, I just wanted to try something dif-”

“You wanted to fucking finger yourself!” he says while still looking at my body. I feel weirdly exposed in front of him, but I kind of like it. 

“We haven’t had sex in a while and I have been aggravated” I say quietly, but he doesn’t say anything. He just stared. 

It was the way he stood and looked at me. Watching my every move and staring at me with those deep eyes. And I loved it. I loved the attention he was giving me. The long needed attention. It made me feel wanted and special. It was his attitude. The way he stood leaned against my headboard with his arms crossed on his chest and lip in his mouth. 

I look away feeling queasy in my stomach. It wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling, but a feeling of excitement. I uncover my hands from my chest and fix my posture, sitting up. I bit my lip and look back at him. His eyes leaves my face and goes straight to my chest, smirking. That was all it took for him to make his way to my bed and sit down next to me.

“You like being a naughty girl don’t you?” he whispers. His voice suddenly got deeper and husky, making my lower body ache. Definitely a turn on, making me want him even more. 

“Do you like it?” I ask, biting my lip seductively as I smiled. 

“No not really” I almost frown at his response until he speaks again.

“Only I can touch you like that, and I don’t like you doing my job.” I close my eyes, trying to contain myself from jumping onto him right now. I want him badly. So badly right now. 

“Then touch me” I whisper into his ear.

“If I do, I might not be able to control myself cause I’m still angry at you for doing this” I bite my lip as I climb onto his lap and bite his ear softly before whispering.

“Then don’t”

As soon as I said it, Justin attack my lips, wrapping my legs around his torso pressing his body against mine. I moaned against his lips as I kissed him hard while his hand went in my hair and his lips moved hungrily with mine.

“Mhm.” He groaned as he pulled away slightly. Grabbing his waist, I attempt to pull down his sweats. He sits up and pulls them off. I starting bucking my bare core against him, earning grunts. I drew circles with my hips as his hands stayed firmly on my waist. I started to feel him harden under me and I smiled through the kiss. 

“Fuck this” he mumbled through the kiss. He quickly threw us over and yanked me to the edge of the bed.

“This is my job and don’t forget it”. With that he spread my legs apart with his hands on either sides of my inner thigh, spreading them as wide as he would while looking my core. He rubbed his hand back and forth and I moaned slightly while wiggling to try to feel him more. He held my body in place.

“Don’t fucking move” I bite my lip and nodded him.

“Yes baby”

I smiled at the sight of my boyfriend going down on me, his head between my thighs as he pleasured me. He rubbed his fingers again me, going up and down fast. Faster than I was. He made sure to press hard against me. I moaned and moaned even louder when he slide his long finger into me.

“God.” I moan, smiling at the sweet pleasure. I open my eyes to see him watching me as he adds another finger and curl them inside me.

“Yessss Just- my gosh!” I moan.

“What was that” he smirks. He adds a third finger and starts roughly pumping.

“JUST-” I couldn’t even speak cause of all my moans. He pulls his fingers out and kneels down further into my core. I then feel his lips touch my heat, making me grind my hips against his face for more. He starts going slow to tease me then speeds up. I wrap my legs around his neck, arching my body as he flicks his tongue harder against me. He movements started to make me whimper.

“Ha-right there, yes, fuck!” I whimper as he looks up at me while still moving his tongue. I throw my head back, not caring how loud I’m being. My small hands were in his hair, pushing on the back of his head I tensed, my eyes shutting as I moan his name again. I feel myself close, knowing I can’t hold it in.

“J-Justin, I’m ab-”

“Let it go baby.” I do as I’m told and cum while Justin licks everything up, smiling at me after. All of this just made me want Justin more than ever. 

“Justin?” I pant.

“Yes angel” he smirks.

“Fuck me.”

He throws of his underwear before grabbing a condom out his jean pocket and doesn’t give me a chance to register anything. Still at the edge of the bed, Justin grabs my hips and slams into me, making me whimper. my knees were dangling off the bed, spread apart as Justin thrust into me. I was eager for him to go harder, faster, rougher. I need all of him.

“P-please Justin harder” I moan. He doesn’t need for me to say it twice. Justin pushes himself deep into me, but doesn’t move. He just stood there, deep inside of me. the pleasure was so amazing. 

“Fuck!” I yell, my body shaking and desperate to grab something as I cling myself onto his back.

“Ju-justin” I moan, my breathing heavy. He pushes my hips back down, held them down there before he slammed into me as hard as he could, making my bed move backwards. I let out a loud whimper, my hand grabbing his.

“God! Fuck me, Justin, Harder baby!” I beg, moaning louder than ever. He held my tiny hands so tightly in his, almost crushing my fingers as he went faster, deep groans escaping his throat.

“Holy fuck!” he growled. His voice sounding so deep. He only went harder as I scratched lines into his back. I tried to scream, but I couldn’t. My whole body was shaking beneath him. 

“Fuck!” he screamed. I could hear his dick slam into me with each thrust, slamming into me as deep as it could. My back slammed into my bed each time. Tears were starting to come out my eyes as I was screaming his name. I exploded and it surprised me. Justin pulled out and looked exhausted. He slowly climbed onto the bed, pulling me onto him and could barely catch his breath. He only said one thing. 

“Baby?” he pants.

“Yes?” I ask in the same state.

“I love you, but please remember to lock the door next time”. With that we laughed and then fell right to sleep in each others arms, finally back to normal.


A/N - Sorry if this isn’t that good. I hope you guys like this one! I appreciate you guys feedback :) love you 

Whipped…boyfriend!!!

***

“Boo!”

Y/N isn’t expecting for Harry to be surprised much, at least not for sneaking up on him.

“Y/N, love! I’ve missed ye’ so much, kitten!”

He tucks his phone into his back pocket before wrapping his arms around her waist and picking her up, a grin so wide and a feeling so comforting that nothing in the world could ruin the moment.

“Missed you loads, too, H!” She whispers into his hair, the feeling of his breath on her neck soothing her instantly.

Harry pecks at her neck before setting her back down, his eyes scanning over her every feature. His heart melts at the way she looks up at him, and when he sees her stand on her tip toes, he leans down to press his lips to hers.

It’s a playful exchange of kisses, with Y/N’s hands gripping at the sides of his printed shirt, and Harry’s large hands cupping her face. Kisses with open eyes and big stupid smiles. Kisses that don’t last longer than three second before their lips separate only to press together again. And in between them, Harry whispers ‘missed ye’ too much’ and ‘I love you’ in broken phrases.

Missed. Kiss. Ye’. Kiss. Too. Kiss. Much. Kiss.

He nudges his nose against hers lightly before pressing one last kiss to her forehead and wrapping an arm around her neck so it dangles over her shoulder as they begin to walk.

“Didn’t tell me ye’ were comin’ for a visit, love.”

Not that Harry minds, at all. He just would’ve liked to have been the first person she saw, not some random cabbie or whoever picked her up at the airport.

“Thought it’d be fun to pop by unannounced. Jeff pitched the idea after he overheard Mer talking to me over the phone. Said you could use a little company in that empty hotel room of yours.”

She bumps his hip with hers, giggling for a moment at the famous half smirk he gives her.

“Hm, well if tha’s why ye’ came here then I reckon we should get t’ tha’ empty hotel room, ehh?”

He’s stopped dead in his tracks, moving to stand in front of Y/N to look at her directly. And Harry can visibly see her tense up, the playful look she’d been sporting a few seconds ago gone.

“Y/N-” he begins, eyebrows furrowed into concern, only to be cut off.

“I’m sorry, H. I know it’s taking forever, but it’s just-” and she’s trying so hard not to disappoint him. She knows they’ve been dating far too long for intimacy not to be part of the relationship already, and it makes her mad that she can’t let herself love him in that way. Not because she doesn’t want to, she knows they’re meant to be together, she just doesn’t feel ready yet.

“No. No, kitten, you’ve got nothing t’ apologise for,” Harry’s hands rub at her upper arms soothingly, hoping to assure her that he’s okay with it, “m'not ever g'na rush this. I want ye’ t’ be sure when the time comes that you want it as much as I do.”

“But I know that it’s frustrating and-”

“-and m'g'na wait as long as I’ve got t’. M'not g'na love ye’ less b'cos of it. Jus’ wan’ ye’ t’ be sure, love.”

He gives her that smile. That toothy smile that can make all their problems fade into nothing. And so she smiles, too.

“Tha’s m'girl.”

***

“Well would ye’ look at this lovely picture.”

A 'wuh-PSSSH’ sound follows the comment, a voice too familiar not to notice.

“Still whipped, mate?”

Harry just smiles, unwrapping his arm from around Y/N to stand up and greet his friend in a proper hug.

“Oh, look at this,” Y/N can hear Harry coo before she’s even got the chance to slip out of the booth they’re currently sat at, “Freddie’s here!”

And to say he completely disregarded Louis at this point would be an understatement, he might as well be invisible now.

Harry stretches his arms out, and Louis complies at letting him hold his one year old.

“Nice t’ see ye’ too, Harry. I’ve been great, thanks mate.”

Harry pays the sarcasm no mind as he sets the baby on his hip, and instead smiles and coos at Freddie who looks up at him with happy eyes.

“Don’t worry, did the same to me earlier.” Y/N laughs at the thought of Harry having left her side with out a second thought to hold who she came to find out was an adorable little baby girl named Ruby.

Louis welcomes her into a hug, whispering a low 'outta have kids then’ in her ear.

And that warms her heart. To think that one day, she’ll be lucky enough to welcome a lovely little human that’ll be a mix of her and Harry, she honestly can’t wait. But now she feels even more guilty.

But Harry smiles at her adoringly, baby Freddie in his arms chuckling and trying to grab at Harry’s short but now longer hair.

“I see you two are still disgustingly sweet as usual,” Louis comments.

Just the way Harry looks at you, it’s unreal and anyone who knew you both would swear you were meant for each other, even before either of you realised it. And that’s exactly what your friends thought. Seeing Harry look at you the way he did at the many dinners and house parties everyone would gather for definitely added to those thoughts.

And you two have been practically inseparable ever since New York. You were glad Harry had gathered up the courage to find you that night, don’t know if you’d be in this position if he hadn’t. You were glad he was hell bent on not leaving that hotel room until things were cleared up because “really miss m'best friend. Tell me wha’ I did so I can fix it, kit'en.” And you were glad he’d said those three words that solidified the fact that he was there to make sure you were his, even though you had been all along.

“Will be. So long as this one will have me,” the press of Harry’s lips to Y/N’s has Louis grunting in pretend distaste.

“Better get going, don’ wanna interrupt Harry still being whipped.”

Harry hands Freddie over with a pout.

“Still no complaints though.”

***

To say everything is going perfect would be an understatement. Harry’s music is being praised and appreciated and Y/N can’t explain how happy it makes her that Harry’s happy. His performances are nothing short of amazing, and she loves seeing him gush over “they were singing along, babe! Just a great feelin’!”

She’s been flying back and forth along his side during all this. New York, London, Paris, and then back to New York. And Harry loves sharing this with her. He loves having her watching him from the side lines, singing along as she claps and gives him thumbs up and blows kisses at him for support. He loves getting off stage with so much adrenaline and kissing her so hard because Harry doesn’t take anything for granted, no. He’s thankful he’s getting to do what he loves and even more with his better half by his side.

“A'right. How do I look?” His jazz hands and that big smile plastered on his face are indication of just how hyped he is for this.

“I’ve never seen anyone pull off black better than you, H!”

And it’s true. Harry can pull off any colour. Blue, red, yellow, pink; you name it! But black. Black gives him a sexy sort of mysterious sophistication.

“Think so?” He looks himself over in the mirror, content at his choice.

Y/N looks at him through the mirror from where she’s sat on the couch of his dressing room, nodding a yes as she gets up to stand on the furniture.

“Please no stage diving today?” She’d be all for it, if it weren’t for the fact that he’s already tried it and it didn’t go as planned. She really doesn’t want him or any of the fans getting injured.

Harry only chuckles and nods in embarrassment as he strides over to stand in front of her, his head tilting up just a bit to look at her since she’s standing on the cushions.

“M'serious, Harry!” But she smiles anyway, arms lazily slung over his shoulders and around his neck. She brings a hand to tug at the hairs at the nape of it as Harry sets his at either side on her hips, thumbs rubbing at her hipbones.

It’s the last listening party before the album is released, and Harry’s pretty sure the second he mentions stage diving, Jeff will have him pulled off stage. Or carried because it is Jeff after all.

“I’ll try not to, kit'en.” Harry doesn’t know why it was a good idea to do it in the first place. But he had all that adrenaline and he was just so excited. Y/N of course had scolded him and slapped his arm after he got off stage because, “you could’ve broken something Harry!!” But he’d kissed the small amount of anger away.

“I’ll be watching from the sides?” Every time before a performance or an interview she says that, and every time she does Harry smiles just as big.

***

“Congrats, Ni!!!!!”

Finally, after a few months of all the boys doing their own thing, everyone’s finally got a chance to gather up at a small venue for Harry’s pre-launch party. Jeff had asked Y/N for help in terms of invitees, and it’d be outrageous not to have Liam, Niall, and Louis attend.

And so Niall is the last to arrive, and the moment he walks through the door, a very tipsy Y/N can’t contain her excitement at finally reuniting with another one of her friends.

“Oí, have enough drinks for the rest of us have ya?” Niall just about tumbles back with the sudden weight of her body as she throws herself at him, but he catches her in his arms and steadies her.

“You’re late mister,” she’s slurring just a bit, words somewhat coherent.

“Does 'arry know you’re drunk??”

He wraps an arm around her waist for support, in fear that she might be too over her head to even walk with out tripping and falling.

“Drunk? M'not drunk,” she pokes at his chest, and Niall only now notices the red cup in her hand threatening to spill over his shirt, “you’re just sober.”

He lets out a lively laugh. Drunk Y/N is something else, and he’s only ever seen her like this when Harry’s not really paying attention to her.

She hiccups and continues with a pout, “he’s over somewhere. With some girl,” she motions her hand around and nowhere in particular, again, the drink sploshing around in the red cup.

Harry hadn’t meant to leave her alone, he’d been pulled away from her side by someone he can’t even recall the name of, because that’s how out of it he is. So he’s been handed drink left and right, downing them with out retaliation because he doesn’t wanna seem like a downer. And although he really should go find his Y/N, he doesn’t think she’d mind if she’s having fun too.

But she’s not. At least not as much as she’d like. All she wants is for Harry to kiss her and hold her hand, because they’re both affectionate drunks, and it’s always a plus to annoy their friends in that way. But she hasn’t seen him in a while. Last she caught a glimpse was about an hour or so ago, when he was being led over to a group of people she doesn’t really recognise, and it made her notice how out of it she is. She doesn’t remember inviting half the people in the room, but the little attention Harry seems to be giving her has her drinking with out a purpose.

It reminds her of when they were only friends. In the same circumstance, she’d drink the night away in hopes of erasing the imagine of Harry smiling wide, eyes crinkled because some girl was whispering god knows what in his ear. He’d be hunched over just a bit to give the girl better access as she mumbled and giggled. And Harry would nod slightly before moving to whisper something back, face too close to her liking. But it, too, was always nothing, because shortly after she would have to turn away. Try to hide the fact that yes, she might have been staring at Harry for much longer than she’d ever admit to. And when he’d catch a glimpse of her doing just the same with a guy, giggling and whispering and smiling like crazy, he’d make his way over. Weaving his way around dancing bodies to get to her. And he’d smile that drink infused crooked smile of his before whispering something like “let’s get ye’ home, pet,” and leading her out of the place with his palm to her lower back.

So yeah, this sort of reminds her of old times. Only this time, they’re actually dating and he’s nowhere to be found.

***

Harry doesn’t remember getting home. He doesn’t remember taking of his clothes either.

In fact, the last thing he remembers is Y/N kissing at his neck and tugging at his pants.

And..oh no. If that’s how…if they were both drunk and-ah shit! Neither of them were suppose to be drunk when it finally happened. Harry wanted to make sure she would be okay with everything going on. He would have wanted to whisper how good she was taking him. Wanted to assure her that he was there with her, that all he wanted was to make her feel good. Harry just wanted to make love to her the right way.

And now he doesn’t even remember half the night.

So he bring his hand over his face, because not only does he not remember, he also doesn’t recognize the room he’s woken up in.

And then he looks beside him at the body under the white sheets.

He doesn’t recognize the person he’s woken up next to.

That’s not his Y/N.