door chest

  • Vax, at Gilmore's door during an ungodly night hour: hey, ex-boyfriend i'm having trouble dealing with my emotions and i need some advice.
  • Gilmore, who is draped against the door frame, chest exposed, dressed elegantly in all the finest silks and has just put a kettle on the stove: Vax, it's three thirty in the morning
Steve Rogers Imagine

Requested: Anonymous

Imagine: Imagine where Reader is a shy/introverted scientist for Tony Stark and Natasha tries to encourage Steve to ask her out for a lunch date? 💕

A/N: it’s long ;3

Warning: None

You stood there with the boxes in your arms, obviously it was dragging you down because of the weight. You didn’t have that strong of arms, but you still somehow managed to carry the load of stuff inside the boxes. Most of the objects in the box were glass tubes, stuff that you use for science experiments pretty much. You were the scientist for Tony Stark, which you still had no idea why, because you thought you were very introverted and shy. The ding from the elevator finally rang and you straightened your back and puffed out your chest.

The door opens and reveals your boss, Steve Rogers, or as everyone calls him, Captain.

Keep reading

Just Had To Ask

[Reader X Tama Tonga]

[Notes; This is my first story ever where I’ve written two point of views. Take it easy on me, people. Tell me what you think.]

     “Nick, I dare you to.” Matt said, tilting his head to my bedroom door- backhanding Nick’s chest. Nick’s head snapped to face his brother. “Are you serious?” Nick asked, looking shocked. “Even I’m not that stupid.” Matt scoffed at his brother, shining his pearly teeth. “Didn’t know you were such a baby, bro. You afraid?” Matt intrigued, uncrossing his arms to stick his hands in his sweat’s pockets.

     “What? No. It’s just.. a woman’s room, Matt.” Nick said, stating it obviously- turning his left hand palm up in a questioning manner. “It’s private.” He argued, knowing better than to get himself in such a foolish trap. “Come on.. She takes long ass showers at the arenas, it wont be any different at her house. She’s probably in there thinking about you right now, Nick.” Matt joked, poking at his brother’s side.

     Matt only stopped to bring one hand to his privates. Closing his eyes, and moving two fingers in the come here motion, he moaned. “Oh, Nick.. Oh, Nicky don’t stop. Right there!” Matt whined- louder at the end, impersonating what he imagined it must be like for me to masturbate. Tama chuckled, a little too loud. “Stop.” Nick demanded, under his breath- shoving Matt. “Stop?” Matt shoved back, in his normal voice. He thumbed up the bathroom door over his shoulder. “Have you seen (Y/N)? She’s a fucking babe, bro.” Matt laughed out, keeping his voice down. “Yeah, I’ve fucking seen her. And I respect her, unlike you two..” Nick stated, turning a shade of pink- before Tama pipped up.

     “I’ll do it.” Tama said, peeling his back from the hall’s wall. “Yeah?” Matt laughed out, not believing him. “Yeah.” Tama repeated. “Stand watch?” He asked, looking at both Jacksons. Nick rolled his eyes. “Fuck you guys.” Nick pushed. “You’re on your own.” He finished, patting Tama’s shoulder as he passed him.

     I turned the shower’s knob, killing the rainfall from above. Wrapping myself in a warm, white towel, I opened the door- peeking outside to see any sign of the boys. I passed the living room, to see Nick by himself. “Where is everyone?” I asked, clutching my towel close to my chest- letting the water drip into a pool, from my wet hair. Nick looked at me, but didn’t answer. I figured that he didn’t hear me, until he started to bite at his bottom lip. “Nick..” I said, pulling him from a daydream. “Hm?” He hummed, bring his eyes back to attention. I couldn’t help but smile at how helpless he was. “Where’s Matt and Tama?” I whispered.

     “Don’t know.” Nick replied, pulling his face away- not letting himself look too long. “Thanks. Do you need anything?” I offered. Nick’s forehead vein bulged, and he sucked his bottom lip through his teeth- starring forward. “Nope.” He pleaded, voice cracking in the process. “Goodnight, Nick.” I smiled, aware of what I was doing. “Night, (Y/N).” Nick half-yelled back, clearing his throat immediately after- still denying me his attention.

      Bringing my eyes back to the hall’s walls, I saw a figure shoot behind a door. “Matt?” I called out, knowing that it had to be one of the two. He had jumped into a spare bedroom, across from my master. “Matt.. what’re you..” I started, almost mentally muttering- stopping myself only to see my bedroom door open. 

      Ignoring the other Jackson, I found somewhat of an explanation when I propped my body against the door frame. I stood in my towel, waiting for Tama to turn around at the thud of my presence. Apparently, he hadn’t heard it. Tama sat on the side of my bed, starring down at whatever was in his hands. Seeing that my bedside table was open, I quickly figured out what it was.. or they were.

      “You know, you just had to ask to see them.” I spoke up, spooking him- causing him to jump and drop the stack of seven or eight Polaroids. “Fuck. I.. I-” Tama started, attempting to explain. “You- You just.. were.. digging through a woman’s nightstand, in her bedroom.. like a pervert?” I smiled in the dim lighting, curious as to where he would take that. I couldn’t see much of his face, for the only lighting was through the moonlit window frames and a hallway’s lamp a few rooms away. 

      “No. I was just.. I-” Tama tripped over his words, fumbling the stack of pictures he recollected. He stood and faced me, not showing that he slipped one into his back pocket. “You-” I repeated, again. “Took a tour for myself, and then I got.. distracted. I apologize.” Tama said, handing back the group of photos. “Quite the collection.” He leaned down and whispered in my ear before walking past me. “Goodnight.” Tama smirked in the hall, winking before turning his back. I shut the door. 

      One night. One night, (Y/N). I thought, sitting at the foot of my bed in the now- damp fabric. Our event was in my hometown, and I had just bought a big, brand new house. It was a little bigger than needed, I will admit- so it was a nice idea to invite the boys to stay over tonight- knowing it would also save a hotel’s expense, killing two birds. Adam and Kenny were at a local bar, and Nick, Matt, and Tama agreed. No, there wasn’t terms and condition to the sleepover- but digging through my personal stuff wasn’t something I thought I’d have to ban.

      Pulling myself to my feet, I figured it was a good idea to lock the door- considering just how curious everyone was being. Kicking past the remaining unpacked boxes, I stumbled to the nightstand. I tapped the metal lampshade, bringing instant life to the light. Laid open, my drawer exposed a vibrator, a journal, and some mailed magazines. “Son of a bitch..” I huffed at the thought of him digging through this, embarrassed. 

      “What’d you find- a sex diary about her boyfriend over here?” Matt jabbed to Tama, shooting his eyes to Nick. Nick flipped the bird to his brother, smirking. “No.. I didn’t find anything.” Tama lied, shoving the picture further down his pocket. “Well, did she find you?” Matt asked, sternly. “Yeah, but I was just leaving, so she didn’t know.” Tama fibbed again. “Sweet house, though.” He said, looking up to the high rafters- changing the subject. “Uh, too sweet.” Matt agreed, shaking his head. 

      “I’m going to take one of the rooms, you should too.” Matt said to Tama. “You can just go crawl in bed with..” Matt tried with Nick, before Nick shut it down. “Shut the fuck up.” Nick laughed, easing the tension between the two. 

      “See ya tomorrow, guys.” Tama quipped, making his way to the spare. He shut the door and flipped on the light. Throwing himself to bed, he pulled out the stolen picture- soaking in what was imaged. “Holy shit..” He mumbled to himself. “Baaaaby.” Tama ran his fingers over the small eight by ten print, feeling his crotch tighten. It was a simple picture, really. If you considered three fourths naked, taking personal and private pictures of fucking yourself simple. They weren’t for anyone specific, they were for me. I felt good in them. 

      Tama licked him lips, and switched his vision to the flat screen mounted to the wall across the room. He grew sick with guilt and remorse, and pitched the picture to his suitcase- face down. Mental pictures of me flooded his brain, forcing blood to rush to his groin. Tama exhaled sharply, and grabbed the remote from the stand- flipping on the television as fast as he could. 

      An hour or so had passed, and he had no luck of falling asleep. An urge of guilt- mixed with pleasure, burned in his brain and blood. “Fuck. Fuck.” Tama resisted, pulling his hand from sitting on top of his package. He kept trying to focus on the show, not my fingers and where they were placed. How my face screamed arousal, fucking myself. How the thin, white mesh- barely there thong was slid to the side, allowing myself the room. How much he would have begged to stick his dick where my digits dug, and how much his cock had throbbed for me over the years- watching me in just a little bit more than what I was in in the print. 

      Tama hadn’t noticed his hand, tugging at his half-erect flesh, until there was a light knock at the door. He immediately retracted his hand, and glanced to the photo lying on top of his bag. “Just a minute.” He spoke, loudly. Tama jumped from the comforter, tangling his foot inside of the sheets- pushing him to the floor. Of course, I heard the thud. He’s a two-hundred and ten pound man made of muscle, we all probably heard the thud. He shoved the secret deeper into his bag, and covered it with clothes.

      The door cracked- just enough for it to show his figure, and Tama smiled. “Hey.” He smiled down, seeing that it was me and not either Jackson. “Can’t sleep?” I asked, looking at the rotating, lit, leaf fan on the ceiling.  “Uh, nah.” Tama replied, laughing a little nervously- which I had never seen him do before. “Are you.. okay?” I questioned, bringing my eyes to how he was standing. His lower body was sheathed behind the wall, and just above his abs were presented. “Did you want something?” He asked, ignoring my question- cutting right to the point. “Alright, ass.” I shrugged my brows together, tapping my finger against my lips. “I know that.. I have.. nine of what you saw. And now there’s only eight. So, unless you’re selling them to the brothers, your brother, Cole, or Omega.. I’d like it back.” I pushed, knowing that beating around the bush wasn’t in mind when it came to talking to Tama. 

      As if he contemplated slamming the door in my face, his smile dropped and so did all of his urges. He stepped out from behind the wall, and opened the door more. “Well.. fuck.” Tama said, knowing he was caught. “I’m sorry, (Y/N).” He tried. “Yeah, you keep saying that.” I whispered, trying not to draw attention from any potential prying ears. Daring so, I pushed myself ahead, a breath’s length from his shirtless stomach- forcing him to let me in. 

      “Hey, I told you it was quite the collection.” Tama recited in a whisper, stepping to his bag to retrieve what was mine. I shut the barrier once he had turned his back to me, and pulled my over sized shirt above my head- throwing it to the ground. Left in just lace panties, I pushed back my hair just in time for when he faced me. Picture in hand, Tama turned around. “What’re you..” silked through his lips like fine wine- only being able to look at my bare chest. 

      “I thought maybe you could.. see me for yourself. In person.” I couraged up enough to offer. Lust-filled eyes dove to mine as he stepped across the wooden floor- closing the gap between us. “(Y/N)..” He moaned, removing the strand of hair I missed from my shoulder. His eyes drop, and so did his fingertips- skimming my breast bone. “You’re so beautiful.” Tama said to himself, bringing his eyes back to mine. Delicately, his thumb danced along my jawline before he dragged his lips to mine. 

      Tama pulled back, pausing to see if it was okay- if it was what I wanted. I placed my hand to his abs. Jesus fucking Christ, they were so.. hard, so sculpted. Mashing my nose back into his, I shoved him backwards until he hit the end of his bed. He grabbed both of my arms, and pulled me into his lap- never breaking the heated kisses. “Are you sure..” Tama finally broke to whisper, in the tone he had used before. 

      “Oh,” I chuckled. “so you’re not so bad boy, all the time. Are you?” I sang against his neck, planting a string of sloppy lip locks. “Don’t fucking push me.” Tama threatened into my eardrum, and I could feel his sly-full smile. Sucking on his throat, I could feel a pulsing throb beat under my- and his clothes. I gasped at realizing just how much there was of him that pulsed and throbbed, and ground my hips into his print. 

      “Holy shit.” I whimpered, at his cock’s length- driving my pussy to drip. Skyrocketing his ego, he snicked at my whine. “God, I love looking at that pretty mouth of yours.” Tama admitted, eyes widened- fooling anyone else that he had taken something. “Let me show you just what this pretty mouth can do.” I sulked, pushing his chest enough for him to get the hint. Tama etched to lying on his back, and I yanked myself from him lap. A shift of his muscles later, he was lying against the headboard, and I was tugging at his sweats. 

      Bordering his cock, I stopped pulling. Before he could ask why, I set my lips to his left v outline. His skin was so hot, and boiled with need. I trailed the tip of my tongue down the fine line, and paused at the base of his dick. I nipped at his skin- just enough to hurt, but instantly cooled it with my tongue. “(Y/N).. Jesus..” Tama groaned, impatient. I pulled the material over his bulge, letting his member slap his stomach. Nothing. Neither, wow. I noted. 

      Dropping my face, I kept my eyes in the position they’d sit in for most of the night- to his. I let my thumb run along his base, to the tip- and circled his head. I heard him suck in a sharp, almost painful, breath through his grit teeth and felt his hugging feet jolt against my legs. “So sensitive.. Are you sure you want to do this?” I mocked. “Shut the fuck up.” He demanded, earning a wicked smile. 

      “Wait.” broke me from my concentration, just as I was to put his head to my tongue. Tama’s palm skimmed against my temple, pushing my hair out of the way again. “Go get your camera..” He asked. In a second’s time, I jumped from my bed and threw on my shirt. 

      As if my life depended on it, I rushed back into Tama’s room- still careful enough not to get caught, and shut his door. Pitching him the contraption, he shook his head and smiled. I crawled back to my position, grabbing his cock in my hand. He hadn’t drawn attention to the camera, and watched on as I jerked up and down. Pulling myself forward, I let a strand of drool seep from my lips- like honey would from a jar, landing on his tip. I ran my thumb around, pushing saliva as far down his dick as I could. “Please, fuck. Don’t make me fucking beg.” Tama spat, way too loud. 

      Flattening my tongue, I slipped from the base one last time to the top, and sucked down as much as my throat would allow me to. “Ah,” I heard him choke- throwing his hands to my hair. “Yeah, just like that.” He encouraged, smacking his head back to the headboard. Up and down, I paced myself on his rod- leaving enough to lubricate his cock, allowing me to slip deeper and deeper each time I went down. Tama snatched the camera up from the comforter with one hand, and gripped a fistful of hair with the other- gagging me. 

      A flash or two drove me to seeing how far I could go, how much I could suck. “Fuck, baby..” Tama groaned, snapping a picture of the deep throat. “Slow down.” He heaved, breathless. Ignoring his command, I hallowed my cheeks and gave enough room for my fingers to snake around his base. I bobbed my head with a perfect rhythm- jerking and sucking him off, at once. 

      “Stop. Stop, stop.” Tama ordered, tensing every muscle in his body to stop him from spilling. He chuckled just enough for me to barely hear. “Let me feel that sweet pussy tighten on it..” He purred, with no hint of patience left. “Lay on your back.” He urged, pulling himself to his knees. 

      I did as I was told, as waited in the thick cloud of tension- uncertain of where he was taking this. Taking both my thighs, he hooked my legs over his- jerking me closer to him. “Tama..” I began, being cut off. “Shh.. I got you, baby.” He whispered, running the tip of his cock up and down my soaked slit- painfully slow. “Be a good girl and take my cock, okay?” coarsed through my eardrums. I snapped my head in agreeance. “Plea..” was all I could try, before sucking in all of the lingering oxygen possible at the force of his cock, shoving inside me in one thrust. 

      I watched him study my facial expressions, learning what I liked and didn’t like- how much I could take, and couldn’t. He plunged his unfairly sized cock into the deepest parts of my cunt- hitting my g-spot every time. Three or four fucks in and I was already feeling the fire ignite. Ramming his rod, he dripping sweat onto my burning skin- cooling it instantly. “Oh my fucking God, woman.. You feel incredible.” Tama charmed, pausing inside to take a break. “Do me a favor.” I lightly laughed a “Yeah.” out. “Do it.” 

      With that, I knew what he meant- and I forced myself to grind down on his pipe. Using the bed as leverage, I fucked myself and did all of the work. Tama tended to the camera, hovering it just above both of our bodies connection. Flashes upon flashes, he caught more than he needed to. “Fuck!” He yelled, not minding the house guest. He threw the camera the the edge of the bed, and wrapped both arms around my waist. “Cum for me, baby.” I cooed, knowing that this was the only thing he had his mind on anymore. 

      A handful of Oh’s and Ah’s, Fuck’s and Tama’s later, I clenched tightly to his dick, seeping my juice to somehow escape the tight hold. Maybe it was that, maybe. Maybe it was the moaning, groaning, gasping and gripping- but Tama wasn’t far behind me. He slammed a hand down next to my face, and shoved his head in the crane of my neck- biting down onto my collarbone. Pulling out at the last possible moment, Tama spat his cum to my stomach- breathing in sync to the pulses his dick allowed. 

      Collecting ourselves as he laid on top of me, Tama started to laugh- and so did I. “I had no idea.. I thought, but I didn’t..” I said. “You thought?” He said, lifting his face from my chest. “I mean.. yeah, of course I did. Look at you.” I smiled, poking at his abs. “Look at you.” He repeated, soaking in the mess he had left on my flesh. 

      “Just ask next time, damn.” Rolling my eyes, I beamed. “Next time, huh?” He asked, reaching for the camera again. “Yeah.. Next time.” I confirmed.

      “Next time.” He smiled, sticking the window to his eyes, and lens to his sex.


11.23pm 31st July, 1980


Marlene’s head appeared from behind the door. James stood up from where he had been sitting against the wall in the hallway, his heart beating like a storm inside his ribcage.

“Is she-?”

His anxiety rendered him unable to finish his sentence. His hands were shaking. Marlene nodded a little faintly and let out the smallest of laughs.

“She’s fine; they’re both fine.” She held out her hand, inviting him into the tiny bedroom, her smile widening. “Come say hello”

Sirius put a hand on his shoulder.

“We’ll wait here,” he said, his voice unusually gentle.

“Good luck,” added Remus, as James moved towards the door.

His chest swelled at the sight of Lily. She was propped up on several pillows and there were tearstains lining her cheeks. Her dark hair was tied clumsily out of her damp face, though a few stray strands were still clinging to her cheeks. She looked exhausted but she wasn’t letting that stop the smile on her face as she gazed down at the bundle that had been carefully folded into her arms. As he pushed the door open further she glanced up.


Somehow her smile grew even more when she saw him. Her eyes were brimmed with tears as he walked towards the bed. His heart was leaping and somersaulting as he knelt by her side and softly pushed the stray hair behind her ear. He looked into the blankets in her arms and saw his son for the first time. His eyes were closed tight and his face was as red as a quaffle. James blinked and tears raced down his face before he even realised he was crying. He let out a breathy laugh and wiped them away with the back of his hand. Lily laughed too, careful not to disturb the baby in her arms.

“Are you crying too?” Marlene asked from behind him, and he nodded, his smile unwavering.

“I told you he would.” Lily said weakly. “He hasn’t even said anything yet,” she added humorously. James just wiped his face again and put his arm around her, kissing her temple.

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered, looking back down at their baby. He couldn’t quite comprehend how huge this feeling in his chest was. This small life in her arms bound them closer than they had ever been; they were a family.

“He’s a boy,” Lily said faintly. She carefully pulled back some of the blanket to reveal a little black tuft of fluffy hair. James stifled a surprised laugh. “He’s also inherited your good looks” At that moment, the baby’s eyes began to scrunch. He frowned a little as he began to open his eyes. Immediately a glimpse of green appeared from behind the eyelids. James grinned widely.

“The lucky thing, he got your eyes.”

“So he did,” Lily gazed down at him as he looked up sleepily.

“He’s beautiful,” James said quietly. He looked back at his wife and kissed her temple again. “You both are.”


7.53pm 31st October, 1981

“Lily, take Harry and go! It’s him! Go! Run! I’ll hold him off!”

James’ heart was pounding hard, desperately grasping for the blood that flowed through it. He knew he was going to die, even before he’d said these words. Lily was holding Harry tight to her chest, her breathing heavy and strained. She couldn’t move away from James. Her eyes were pleading, suddenly brighter than he’d ever seen them. She looked so beautiful. Maybe it was because he knew it would be the last time he would see her again.

“James-“ her voice broke, and tears were pooling in her eyes. Harry began to cry, confused about why his parents were no longer laughing and smiling. James looked at him with a pained expression as he insisted to Lily:


In these few fleeting seconds they had left all he could do was hope that his eyes, desperate and loving, were telling her all the things he would’ve said out loud if they were given enough time.

Lily looked like she wanted nothing less than to leave James, gripping his hand as she backed quickly away towards the stairs. The look of grief that was already on her face was breaking his heart. When she could no longer reach him, their fingers parted. Tears falling down her cheeks, she finally dragged her eyes away from his. She turned and sprinted up the stairs, her arms clutching Harry close to her chest.

The door crashed open. James’ chest ached and his heart was beating heavily as he turned to face Tom Riddle for the last time.

“You keep away!” He yelled, a lion protecting his pride, “Do you hear me?”

He had no wand. He didn’t have time now. But it didn’t matter. Wand or not he was going to do anything he could to stop this man: the man who had caused them so much pain, the man who had come here to hurt them, the man they had been hiding from for so long. James stood with his arms held out, blocking the stairs, his face fierce and unbending. He was not going to cower or run. He owed it to his family, his small, young, beautiful family, to face his fate with as much strength as he could pull. Voldemort laughed; the sound made James’ blood pump furiously in his ears with rage; with fear; with the terrible realisation that he didn’t stand a chance. Voldemort glided forwards and James saw his white hand appear from beneath his cloak, flicking his wand. Suddenly there was only a dazzlingly green light in James’ vision. Everything seemed like it was moving slowly, as though time itself was wading through honey. As the green light blinded him, James couldn’t help but see a haunting beauty in it. He could only think of one thing as that sharp, bright, beautiful green light came surging towards him.

He had always thought her eyes would be the death of him.

Passionate Hate - Ten (M)

A/N: I’m sorry, ft. fiance Ten


Word Count: 858

Originally posted by taesyong

“Fuck off!”

You slammed the door in rage, unable to gaze upon his face any longer.
You heard something shatter outside of the door, irritated stomps echoing through the dark house.

Ten slammed the door, shoving his hands into his pockets gruffly as he made his way down the street, the cold wind howling in dismay.

You sunk to the floor, a broken sob escaping your trembling lips.

You hated him, yet you loved him.

Hours passed, your tears dried, your mind growing dreary as the dim clock mocked you.
You wondered about him.

Where is he?
What’s he doing?
Will he come back?

Your thoughts were interrupted as you heard the door, quick steps making their way toward your room.
You scrambled from the floor, bewildered.

Ten swung the door open, his chest heaving as if he had sprinted.

“I’m sorry-”

Tugging him by the collar of his shirt, you melded your lips together desperately. His bewilderment soon vanished, his desperate hands wandering across your body, greedily pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss.
Tears flowed down your cheeks, their saline taste mingling with his sweet essence.
You broke away, peppering kisses over his skin messily. Your hearts swirled with guilt, the unhealthy nature of your relationship obvious.

“Kiss me,” you begged, drawing Ten from his dark thoughts.

He held your gaze. He noticed the despair and desperation hidden beneath the adoration your gaze held, a mirror of his very own.
He leant down slowly, capturing your lips in an apologetic manner.
Suddenly, he drew back, his rough hands turning you around suddenly, pushing you onto the mattress. His hands moved to your bottoms, thrusting them down swiftly. His bulge pressed to your panties as he leant over you.

“I hate you,” he murmured, his hot breath caressing the shell of your ear sensually.

“I need you,” you whined.

He stood, his jeans falling to his ankles similarly to your own. He cursed, his blunt nails digging into your soft skin lustfully, his frustration replaced with adoration. He hated himself for loving you so much. Unable to wander through the depths of his mind any longer, he shoved his briefs down, his member aching at the sight of you. Your cheek pressed to the cool sheets, your fists fisting the soft sheets. A hand fell to your back, two fingers brushing your panties aside before prodding at your entrance. Your back bowed as he easily sheathed his two fingers, your warm essence smearing along his knuckles. Slowly, he thrust his fingers into you, his lips parted as your tight walls constricted around his lithe fingers. His slow pumps soon grew aggressive, your frame rocking with each thrust.
A high, wanton moan left you, your thighs trembling in anticipation as the coil within you bound tightly.

“I’m close-” you croaked, gasping sporadically as the coil within you burst, wave after wave of ecstasy rendering you speechless.

Removing his fingers swiftly, he guided his member’s swollen tip to your entrance, sheathing himself. His breathing grew ragged, his frame falling over your own. His barbaric nature was replaced by a sweet and loving one. His breaths sounded by your ear, his hand ghosting under your shirt, his hips shallowly rocking against your own slowly. He moaned lowly, his forehead pressing to your shoulder, his soft hair tickling your neck gently.
A whimper escaped you as he groped your breast beneath your shirt, his calloused fingers brushing over your sensitive bud brashly.
You called out to him quietly.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, his hips drew back before thrusting shallowly.

His fervent pace displayed his desperation, the dark room echoed with pants and low moans, a sensual symphony.
He groaned your name loudly before chanting quietly, his hips stuttering, roughly snapping to meet your own. His hand abandoned your breast, instead slithering down the front of your panties, his fingers massaging your swollen clit sloppily.
He came, his hand stilling temporarily as he grimaced.

“Shit-” he murmured, slouching against you.

His warm breaths once again caressed your ear, his wary gaze watching you carefully. He studied the way your lips parted as he applied more pressure.

“More,” you panted.

He obeyed, rubbing quick circles into you rapidly. Your voice rose as your frame tensed, your high once again approaching.
He quietly encouraged you through your release, whispering in your ear sultrily.

You awoke to an empty bed; the vast bed making your heart drown in sorrow.

[Insert Spring Day – BTS]

Lounging in the chair, Ten sighed gently. He looked from the rooftop, the sun rising over the bustling city slowly. Running a hand through his hair lazily, he pursed his lips.

His phone rang loudly, tearing him from his thoughts.

“Where are you?” you inquired quietly.

He sighed once again.

“Let’s break it off.”

Time seemed to stop, the ring on your finger glistening mockingly.

“Last night-”

Ten interrupted you,

“-there was love, I could feel it,” you finished.

Ten shook his head, his forlorn gaze sweeping over the skyline slowly.

The line went dead, your words cut off.

- Admin Finn

fecipher twitter, 18-1-2017: “Honorable Thief, Matthew”

[Card Showcase] Matthew, seemingly an easygoing young man. His true nature is that of a covert agent serving House Ostia. “Well… I, er… gather information, open doors, chests, and such.” But wait, isn’t all of that the craft of a common thief? Well, perhaps it’s best not to think about the details. (Illust. Misei Ito)

more fire emblem cipher series 7 translations here!

To Me ❂

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff
Member: Baekhyun
Word Count: 1694

            He found you crying in the car.

           Your head was on the steering wheel and you hadn’t noticed him coming until he opened the backseat door of the van. You froze, pretending tiredness as your nose ran. The surprise had stopped the tears for a moment, but you could still feel the prickle in your eyes and the hiccup rising in your chest.

           The door closed in the van and still you waited, breath frozen so you could hear the quiet over it.

           Then the voice came, soft and questioning.

           “Are you awake?”

Keep reading

And we come back. We treat our bodies
like it’s an underground of made-up moons. Our skin

like green moss vomit,  some rice fields of sunlight
spaces of how we became gentle the same way

our mother’s hands learned how to turn water
into tears and tears into strength. How she molded

life into a milky way galaxy of street lights and metal,
a set of burning lace, a candle melt of teeth and smile.

This warmth: to be both a stone and a cloud, to hold
lightning like its a spark, to allow fangs and French kisses.

This devour and creation of lungs. This coming home.
So we walk back to the bodies we once were, healing flesh

and diamond bones slowly, and ever so slow, we knock 
on our chest’s door. We hold the pair hands we once had to let go.

—  Kharla M. Brillo | After We Learn How To Forgive Ourselves
Taking It Slow [Eggsy Unwin Imagine, Continued].

A/N: Part two to Annoying Interruptions! Hope you all enjoy, it’s a little short, sorry anon! :( Thanks for requesting! <3

Pairing: Eggsy x Reader. 

Warnings: None. Just kissing and implied sexual content. Nothing explicit. 

Disclaimer: I don’t own anyone and you belong to you. 

P.S: I have checked this and edited, but if there are any mistakes, please forgive me! 

The minute you and Eggsy reached your room, you snapped, “what the hell, Eggsy?”

Eggsy chuckled, crowding you against the door of your bedroom, a mischievous look in his eyes, “you can’t say you didn’t like it, baby.”

Keep reading

Before I watched you leave, I watched the
snow geese go first, the sky lost in clean bone and ink

pinch shut. I let what I buried stumble through
open door and paw this chest into two halves of
a grapefruit. And that is how we abandoned it:

with a carving knife, with the watermark
from our hands digging into the bitterness.

—  astagesetforcatastrophe, a portrait 
Jin Scenario, (Angst ending)

Ive decided to make a fluffy & Angst ending :)

TW: Death and broken hearts. SUICIDE MENTION!!!! 

Originally posted by sirtae

Summary: Jin has been stressed lately, you’re bubbly happy mood isn’t exactly what he wants, he forgets someones birthday…and someone was pregnant..

Keep reading

Cannot Forget (Part 5: Laughter)

Summary: Russia and China reminisce about their time together throughout and beyond the Cold War. Written for RoChu Week 2017 (@rochuweek).

Read Part 5 on AO3 or

A/N: So - this is something a *little* more lighthearted for RoChu Week. Because the prompt is laughter, and I ain’t sadistic enough to make them suffer all the way through RoChu Week. Enjoy!

Beijing, March 27th 1969

Russia rapped his gloved hand on the door, rocking back and forth on his heels as he waited for a response. He knocked on the door again, louder, his chest bristling with hope as he heard gentle footsteps approach. The door creaked open by the slightest, China’s dark eyes peering out.

‘What are you doing here?’

Russia placed his hand to his chest, not sure if he found China’s annoyance amusing or hurtful. ‘Comrades can’t visit each other?’

China scoffed. ‘They’re not supposed to try to bomb each other, I know that for sure.’

‘You know those are only rumours!’ Russia chuckled. ‘My boss would never plan to do such a terrible thing.’

China’s brow raised. ‘So then you’re just… stopping by for a friendly visit.’

‘Of course.’

China clacked his tongue. ‘Lies. You’re visiting out of pity! I know you. Your boss has something bad in mind and you’re trying to make up for it.’

Russia paused, mumbling for an excuse. China had been, as always, quick to read him.

Keep reading


Emerald Adult Bedroom by QoAct (The Sims 3)

QoAct Design Workshop | 2016 Bedroom Collection
Set Content:
- Emerald Bed Pillows ,
- Emerald Bed Blanket
- Emerald Wardrobes with Closed Sliding Doors
- Emerald Rug
- Emerald Chest of Drawers
- Emerald Decor Vase with Closed
- Emerald Nightstand
- Emerald Horse Sculpture
- Emerald Wardrobes with Open Sliding Doors
- Emerald Horizontal Books
- Emerald Decor Vase with Open
- Emerald Bed

I Hate You, I Love You...Part 3

(Part 1  Part 2  Part 4)


As Spencer bangs his fist on your door, his chest lightly panting and his heart pounding in his rib-cage, he steps to the side and looks through the curtain-drawn windows, trying to get a glimpse of any sort of movement behind them.

But he was met with a silent house.


Fumbling his phone out of his pocket, he calls Hotch, who picks up before the first ring is done.

“Reid.  Anything?” he asks.

“No.  I’ve banged and yelled, and she’s not answering.  Morgan have any luck getting her to pick up her phone?”

“No…” Hotch trails off.

“Could Garcia trace her work phone?” Reid asks.

“On it,” she says as Spencer pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I’m concerned that she’s misinterpreted me,” Hotch offers.

“Misinterpreted what?” Spencer asks.

“When she called and asked for more time off, I was more than willing to give it to her, especially when you told us what she said to you that got you back into work.”

“Why would she misconstrue that?” Spencer asks as he begins to sweat with nerves.

“Because I didn’t ask her for a reason, or ask if she was alright, and I think she might be taking it as a sign that I didn’t care.”

The team knew about your fragile mental state.  They knew that you had a tendency to withdraw from people, twisting their words and reading into things that weren’t there because of your low self-esteem.  In the field, you were one of the strongest players, but they knew that when they got you out from behind that badge, you felt vulnerable and weak.

“Garcia?  Anything?” Spencer breathes.

“Almost got it…” she trails off.

“Y/N!!” Spencer yells, banging his fist into the door.

“Got it!” Garcia yelps, “According to her phone, she’s at her house.”

“I still can’t get her on the line,” Morgan adds.

“Any luck?” J.J. asks, sticking her head in the door as Hotch gives her a curt shake of his head.

Inside the house, you were already fast asleep, your chest rising and falling as your dreams whisk you away to a place where you felt loved, beautiful, and safe.

A place that only existed in your dreams.

The arms of your best friend.

Curled up onto the edge of the bed as your mind whirls with dreams, flashes of kisses and rolling around in bed, scenes of vacations and waddling around pregnant with his children…conversations at 3 AM and comforting sessions as you cry on his shoulder and giggling with each other and sharing the same hotel rooms with work.

Sleep was the only way you could have him.

And you found yourself never wanting to wake up.

But little did you know that Spencer was becoming exacerbated…

…and very worried.

“I’m taking down her door, Hotch,” Spencer says as he takes a step back.

“Reid, I don’t know if that’s-”

“No one knew!” he shrieks into the phone as the team on the other end of the line goes silent.

“No one knew she loved me!” Spencer yelps as tears brew in his eyes, “And yet she agreed to help find Maeve.  I created a relationship with a previously engaged woman-”

The hitch in Spencer’s throat caused him to stop speaking as the team stands silent, their hearts aching for their two teammates.

“She’s my best friend,” he chokes out, “a-a-and she’s…h-…hurting…because of me,” he stutters.

“Reid, you need to understand.  If you bust down her door and go in there…”

Morgan knew what that would do to you.

“Is busting in to be her knight in shining armor going to help her?  Or is it going to cause her to become more attached to a man still grieving the loss of the first woman to ever tell him that she loved him?”

Hotch’s question weighed heavily on Spencer’s mind.

“Y/N’s the first woman to ever love me…” Spencer trails off.

“But do you love her?  The way she loves you?” J.J. butts in.

“She’s my best friend,” Spencer whispers.

“Who’s in love with you,” J.J. emphasizes.

Everyone wanted to tell him the exact same thing, but no one wanted to be responsible for the potential fallout between the two of you.

The inevitable fallout.

Spencer knew what they were telling him to do.  They were telling him to walk away.  They were telling him to grieve Maeve, to get her out of his system.  They were telling him to leave you alone, to not barge in and save you.  To not take you in his arms and hold you close and tell you that everything was going to work out.  They were telling you not to be your savior, to not make you a rebound, to not provide false hope when you could look him in his eyes and tell him something he wasn’t sure he could give you back.

But the friendship he had developed with you transcended what the team was attempting to communicate.

“I’ll see you guys Monday,” Spencer murmurs, closing the phone call and pulling the battery out before shoving the contents into his pocket and bracing himself on his back leg.

“I’m coming Y/N,” Spencer whispers to himself, raising his leg up and barreling it through your door as it swings harshly on its hinges, the air conditioning of your home pouring out onto the porch as Spencer walks himself in to the foyer of your home.

“Y/N?” he calls out, met with another bout of silence as he closes your door and flips the top lock, making a mental note to take you tomorrow to get something to fix your door.

There was a good chance you hadn’t left your home in weeks.

Taking the stairs to his right as he turns left down the hallway, he strides down the carpeted flooring before coming to your bedroom door, his body taking a deep breath before he slowly pushes your door open.

“Y/N?” he whispers.

But all he was met with were the light snores coming from your body.

The relief that washed over his system caused the tears brewing in his eyes to barrel down his face.

Walking over to your side of the bed, he dips down as he looks upon your face, your hair greasy and disheveled as he slowly brushes it away from your face with his fingers.

You were so far into sleep you didn’t even flinch at his touch.

As Spencer stays crouched, his eyes dancing along your darkened face as he takes in the puffiness of the bags under your eyes, he leans in and places and light kiss on your forehead just as you moan lightly and shift.

“Uuuh,” you groan as you roll onto your back.

Spencer shot up to his feet, bracing for your eyes to open as he watches you closely.

But all you did was continue to mumble in your sleep.


Spencer went from hesitant to curious as he furrowed his brow lightly.

His mind screamed at him to wake you up…

…but his curiosity kept you asleep.


Spencer may not be experienced, but he wasn’t an idiot.

And it was evident as his face began to flush.

“Please…” you breathe.

He watched as your breathing began to pick up.  He watched as your neck began to flush.  He watched as your body began to gyrate and your lips began to puff little bouts of air as you dug your head into your pillow.

But then, just as quickly as it had come on, it left.  Your body settled, your breathing evened out, your skin returned to its normal color, and your mutterings ran silent as he watched your body roll back over to the edge of the bed and curl up into a ball.

And just as he was going to go move, finally pulled from his trance and realizing how creepy he must look, he sees your hand tumble off of the bed and swing freely in the air as your lips breathe one last detail.

“I love you.”

And that’s when he made his decision.

Sitting on the ground beside your bed, his head laying up against the mattress, he takes your hand delicately within his as he pulls it close to him, his lips planting a light kiss on the back of your hand as he holds it next to his cheek.

“I’m right here,” he whispers as he feels his eyes begin to droop.

“I’m right here.”