virgos are highly sensitive to their environment. like it may be difficult for them to focus with clutter or a door left ajar. there is sort of a strange sense of order that the virgo requires, and not always in the traditional sense. there are just certain ways and rituals things must be done, or else their anxiety or feelings of unease begin to rise
Request: can you do on like imagine if you find Derek at his loft
beaten and bleeding but he’s not healing quickly so you try and patch him up
but he won’t let you so you have to force him to let you but Derek just doesn’t
want you to see him as weak and add some fluff?
Requested by: Anon
“Derek!” I shout,
lightly tapping on his loft’s front door. The door was slightly ajar so I let
myself in. “Are you home?” I shout, regretting the words as soon as I said
them. Of course he’s home, why else would the door be open? As if Derek would
leave it open when he leaves. Then it all hits me, what if something happened
to him? “Derek!” I shout even louder, starting to run around. I reach the
kitchen and see him lying on the floor in a puddle of his own blood. “Derek!” I
scream, running to his side. I pull him over so he’s facing me.
“Go away, leave.” He barely
says above a whisper.
“No! Are they still
here?” I say looking around.
“Y/n, get out!” He says,
raising his voice but flinches slightly.
“I’m not a baby Derek,
you can’t tell me what to do.” I say, as I lift his shirt to examine his
wounds. He hits my hand away and flinches again.
“I’ll heal.” He says,
trying to move in a sitting position.
“Don’t.” I say, he looks
at me but doesn’t say anything. “Don’t push me away.” He closes his eyes,
clearly in a lot of pain. I take this opportunity to quickly lift his shirt to
see a deep, long cut across his stomach. He opens his eyes and grabs my hand,
holding it tight.
“You can’t see me like
this!” He yells, “Get out!”
“How long ago?”
“Y/n.” He warns.
“How long ago.” I say
through gritted teeth.
“Three hours.” He says,
refusing to look me in the eye. My stomach drops, three hours? He should have healed by now. I quickly run to the bathroom
to grab some first aid things. When I come back to the kitchen, Derek is
standing. He looks pissed.
“Sit.” I say, my face
“No.” he replies, with
the exact same look.
“Sit down, or I’m
walking out that door, and I’m never coming back.” He continues to stand so I place
the stuff on the bench and start to walk. When I reach the front door I hear a
chair moving loudly implying he sat. I smile to myself and turn around and walk
back to him.
“You’re so stubborn.” He
says, when I reach him and start treating his wounds.
“I wonder why?” I say,
cleaning up the blood. “When you spend so much time with you being stubborn becomes
you’re second nature.” He lets out a little laugh but flinches soon after. “Who
did this?” I ask, my voice concerned but also quite angry.
“It doesn’t matter.” He
says, his face back to blank.
“Fine, next time someone
hurts me and you ask who I will reply with the same thing.” I reply.
“Someone hurt you?” he
asked, clenching his jaw.
“It doesn’t matter.” I reply,
giving him the same look he gave me before.
“Tell. Me.” he says,
through gritted teeth. He grabs my hand tightly.
“It. Doesn’t. Matter.” I
reply, also through gritted teeth. He breaths deeply. “If you tell me, I’ll
“Fine, you go first.” He
says, I shake my head.
“I don’t think so, sourwolf.”
He lets out a throaty laugh.
“Fine, in all honesty, I
don’t know who it was. Probably some guys I pissed off ages ago. There were too
many of them anyways, I could never have bet them, maybe as a wolf but I was
just distracted. Your turn.”
“I lied to get you to
tell me your answer. No one’s ever touched me.” he rolls his eyes.
One day Therese comes home from work, tired and with a little headache. First thing she realizes is that the record she gave to Carol it’s playing, but when she calls Carol there’s no answer. She goes to their room and sees the bathroom’s door ajar.
For a brief second, and inexplicably, Carol looks guilty for being caught relaxing and taking a bath, but when their eyes meet she is looking at her in that way that despite of months of being together, still makes her blush a little.
Without wasting time, Therese starts to discard her clothes slowly while Carol’s eyes follow every move. Carol feels her body warm and no due to the water. But when Therese joins her in the tub and her body molded against hers, back against her chest, the need of pamper her becomes stronger. She hugs her by the waist, pulling her the closest she can against her, leaving a soft kiss at the back of Therese’s neck when she hears her sigh delightedly.
Therese closes her eyes while resting her head against Carol’s shoulder, feeling how the hands in her stomach start to move, fingertips drawing figures in her skin lovingly and soft lips brushing her temple, kissing their way up to her forehead slowly. She can feel the tears against her eyelids at the overwhelming feeling of being loved and cherished as never before.
They lose sense of time, losing themselves in each other between caresses, kisses and sweet nothings whispered against their lips and ears, completely unaware of the cooling water.
So there’s a bunch of reasons why Stiles has been away from Beacon Hills: most noticeably being the time he accused his English teacher Jennifer Blake of being the evil Darach who spent two years sacrificing twelve of Beacon Hill’s best.
But Stiles can’t stay away forever from the town that killed both his parents. When he gets a job offer he can’t refuse, it’s time for him to grow up and apologize for his mistakes. Which just lands him an invitation to Beacon Hills’ wedding of the century. Jennifer’s wedding. To the werewolf Stiles had a thing with in senior year. To the werewolf Stiles might not exactly be 100% over.
Still, he’s a grown up now and he can handle this thing without causing any trouble. Having sex with the groom repeatedly doesn’t count as trouble… does it?
Knot Again by prettylittlementirosa (complete |
5,148 | Rated E)
Our friends they don’t know how to knock But dammit Derek I love your cock So stick it in It’s not a sin To knot me so hard I cannot walk
Or: Five times Derek and Stiles are interrupted while tied together by Derek’s knot, and one time they’re not.
He thinks it probably says something about both his life, and his son, that he doesn’t even blink when he walks into the kitchen after a long shift to find Derek Hale slumped at their table, looking about as weary as he feels.
(818): Fyi I let myself into your place, I'm wearing some of your clothes in your bed. Come take them off + Jung Hoseok (Hope this is the right format I pressed the copy link text?)
When Hoseok returned to his flat to find the front door slightly ajar, he stilled entirely and stared at the silver handle that dimly shone in the fluorescent light of the apartment building hallway. A numerous reel of possibilities clicked through his mind, starting with 1. He had simply forgotten to close the door when he was on his way out to the convenience store and then 2. In that time a potential burglar or serial killer could have used this opportunity to rummage throughout his home and may be sitting and waiting for him with a knife of the living room couch and then 3. That murderer could possibly be you. So taking his chances and hoisting the plastic bags full of eggs and noodles up in front of his face as a makeshift shield, Hoseok planted his foot against the wood and the door swung wide open, followed by the otherwise defenceless man charging inside.
Oh. The place was empty.
Following the sound of a voice that he especially adores over the sound of water hitting the shower floor and through sheets upon bundled sheets on a mattress worn with love, Hoseok placed the shopping bags on the floorboards and then walked slowly towards his bedroom. Once he caught sight of you sprawled across the bed, a smile of a thousand suns light up the room and you were instantly drawn to his warmth, opening your arms wide in greeting and welcome home.
“What are you doing here?” Hoseok cooed cheerfully, pacing over and climbing atop the duvet, gradually hovering above your body. “I thought you had to work tonight.”
You shrugged with a coy grin, sliding your hands up his biceps, throat, cupping at the jawline that you absolutely adored pressing your lips to. And so you did. “They let me have the evening off. So I thought I would break into your place.”
“And dress in my clothes?” Hoseok chuckled against your cheek, giving the flushed flesh a quick peck. He tugged at the lapel of the white button-down of his that you were wearing. “I need this later tonight, y’know.”
“Exactly,” You breathed, smiling wide once again and leaning back so he could see the mischief gleaming in your eyes. “So how about you take it off?”
Your stomach whirled with hungry delight at the sudden lust that had his eyes half-lidded, lips parting and pressing roughly to your own until he was hoisting you up by your waist, pinning your arms above your head and setting himself onto the pearly white buttons. His lips followed the exposed skin of your torso as he unclasped each one, pressing a promise to the skin that tingled beneath his breath. Hoseok was not a man of many words, but the ones that he used always managed to have a shivering effect on you, claws of desire crawling up your spine.
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I hit my heard on the pillow, hard
I took the words that you said to heart
And it made me feel down
If you could see me
Swallowed in darkness
What would it matter
Would it awaken
Faded and scattered
Would you come running
If you could hear me
Some way or another
That’s what I’m thinking
Watching the stars reflect in the gutter
I absolutely can’t stand the dinging noise that a car makes when the driver’s door is open and the key is in the ignition. My next door neighbor is constantly outside cleaning his car and doing typical maintenance and he leaves the key in the ignition and the door ajar. That ding permeates everything and seems to come from every direction. The way that it bounces off every surface and bombards your eardrums makes it sound like there’s no frequency to the number of beats per second. Sometimes it’s ding ding ding ding and other times it’s ding dingdinginging (pause) ding. I find it disorientating. I hate it. It’s worse than finger nails on a chalk board. It’s worse than high pitched, high decibel laughs. It’s even worse than Nickelback.
Please, take your keys out of the ignition and / or close your door.