empty coke cans

hey @ dreamworks i want lance to realise his bisexuality and also i want him to kiss a cute boy because he deserves it

kind regards

when do you stop living?

is it when your mother braids flowers into your sisters hair and tangles cobwebs into your own? she gives your sister a locket stuffed to capacity with disheveled dreams and you pray to god she’s strong enough to bare the weight. she gives you cigarette burns and razor blades. she can’t look you in the eyes-
you look too much like your father

is it when you watch your friends grow and bloom while you bury yourself with empty coke cans and water yourself with whisky? you keep getting trampled by soccer cleats in winter. your frozen hands stop working and you wonder when your brain will follow suit

is it when your first love makes a home inside your ribcage only to hollow out your chest when you are sleeping? he takes your heart and lungs and a few ribs for good measure. he found another girl with cheaper rent and lower expectations. he gives her your heart and tells her it’s his and
you’re
just
empty

is it when you’re being lowered into the ground in a casket made out of bed sheets and bandaids? is it when beetles crawl along your decaying fingertips as you turn into the flowers that surround your grave?

—  when you stop living

fashi0nmistake  asked:

The writing prompt meme- #50 "I’m starting an idiot jar. Any time you do or say anything idiotic, you have to put at least a dollar in it—more depending on how stupid the thing that you said or did was.” The Starklings. It's such a sibling prompt!

“What? It’s a great idea!”

“Robb, it’s a terrible idea! Mom doesn’t even like hockey,” Sansa protested.

Her older brother looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Of course she likes hockey! She has never missed a single game any one of us has played in unless two of us were playing at the same time in different rinks! She’s been to more games than Dad, Sansa!”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “OK. She doesn’t like hockey unless one or more of you idiots are playing. This isn’t just Dad’s anniversary! Stanley Cup playoff tickets are a terrible anniversary gift.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re the only person in this family who never played, Sansa! You probably want to send them to the dumb old ballet!” nine year old Rickon protested.

“No, I don’t,” Sansa said, in a voice alarmingly like their mother’s when her patience was nearly at an end. “I’m perfectly well aware that Dad has no interest in the ballet unless I’m dancing.”

“Well, ballet’s boring,” Rickon pronounced, making a face that had Robb, Jon, and Bran all laughing in spite of Sansa’s glaring at them.

“I hate all of you!” Sansa exclaimed as she dramatically turned causing her hair to swish around her shoulders and flounce out of the room. 

From her perch on the back of the couch by the window, Arya sighed. She’d never admit it to a living soul, but she did envy her sister’s ability to do that kind of stuff with her hair, even if Sansa was acting like a baby.

They were all acting like babies. Stupid babies.

Before she could mention that to them, however, Robb turned on Rickon. “Nice going, kid!” he said sarcastically. “Now she’d bailed on us!”

“You laughed!” Rickon protested, throwing his empty Coke can at Robb’s head.

Robb ducked of course, and the can, which apparently wasn’t entirely empty, hit the wall behind him, splattering Coke on a portrait of their family taken on a vacation to the beach about seven years ago. Their mother loved that picture.

“Nice,” Arya said, swinging her legs over the back of the couch and standing up. “You all are just brilliant. We’ve all been saving money for a damn year, and now that it’s time to actually plan this thing, we’ve talked for an hour, decided nothing, chased off Sansa, and gotten coke all over Mom’s favorite picture.

As Robb and Rickon both started to protest, Arya spoke over them. “Robb, go get Sansa back here. I know she’s bossy, but she listens to you more than the rest of us, and does anybody think we can actually plan this without her?”

She looked around the room at her siblings and cousin. Nobody actually disputed that statement. “Go on, Robb!” she said when he didn’t move. “Grovel if you have to, but get her back here.”

“Rickon’s the one who pissed her off!” Robb protested. 

Arya loved her oldest brother, she truly did. He was a wonderful guy. But sometimes when he felt angry or unjustly accused, he could be the biggest baby of all of them. “Yeah. And he’s NINE. Your twenty. Suck it up, Robb. You all laughed, and it was your dumb suggestion that we send Mom and Dad to the playoffs as our gift which got Sansa riled up in the first place. Besides,” she turned to glare at her youngest brother, and the smirk he’d been directing at Robb disappeared immediately. “Rickon has to go get a rag and clean his damn mess. None of us will be alive to give Mom and Dad anything if Mom sees that picture that like that!”

Rickon, fully aware that he couldn’t escape responsibility for the Coke can incident and with no desire to end up on the receiving end of the wrath of Catelyn Stark (in spite of the fact that Mom tended to let him skate more often than anyone because he was the BABY), scampered toward the kitchen in search of cleaning supplies immediately. 

Robb made a face at her that caused him to look alarmingly like Rickon, but he then agreed to go in search of their sister, muttering under his breath as he went. “And she calls SANSA bossy!”

“Well?” Arya asked as Bran and Jon stared at her in silence. 

“Well what?” Bran asked.

“Well where do you two think we should send them?” she asked in exasperation. These two had contributed very little to the discussion so far, although to be fair, neither had she–except to give them an update on their general budget. 

Even the older kids agreed that fifteen year old Arya was the best of all of them at math, so while Robb had opened the bank account last year because only he and Jon were over eighteen and could do it without their parents’ knowledge, Arya had managed it. The others had given her their contributions and she’d made deposits with Robb’s permission and kept track of the balance. Considering that only Jon, Robb, and Sansa had jobs–and they weren’t exactly full time or well-paying, they’d managed to collect quite a sum over the past year. Arya herself had done some math tutoring to raise money. She’d even babysat a few times, which was torture. Of course, she’d never tell the others that the primary way she’d managed to make her contributions almost as big as those of the older three was by giving Gendry money to bet on various sports events. First of all, she wasn’t supposed to still be seeing him and she didn’t want Dad to murder him, and second of all, Dad would likely murder HER if he found out she was gambling. Even for a good cause.

“They’re not really my parents, Arya,” Jon mumbled. “I really think you five should …”

“And THAT has got to be the stupidest thing of all the stupid things said in here so far today!” she exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “You’ve practically lived here your whole life, Jon, and you gave the most money out of anybody! You get a vote!”

“I didn’t put money in to get a vote,” Jon said almost sullenly. “I did it because Uncle Ned and Aunt Cat have given me pretty much everything I have.”

“They love you, Jon,” Bran insisted. “You’re as much their kid as any of us.”

Jon nodded a bit, but he didn’t smile, and under his breath he muttered something like “But they never had to do that” which caused Arya to roll her eyes again.

She adored Jon. It was almost funny because even though he wasn’t technically her brother, his was the face that came first to her mind if anyone asked if she had a favorite sibling. After all, he’d been the one who convinced her mother to not only allow her to play hockey, but to let her play on the boys’ team. But if Robb could drive her crazy sometimes with his belief that things were always supposed to go his way, Jon could make her equally nuts with his insistence on martyrdom at times.

“Seriously, boys, we’ve got enough to give them a really nice vacation somewhere. Not airfare, but Grandpa Hoster said he’d kick that in so we need to come up with something great.”

“What about Disney World?” Bran asked. “They both said that was a great trip when we all went three years ago.”

“Because we were all there,” Jon said. “It was a great family trip, but neither of your parents cared much about most of the rides. I think for just the two of them, maybe someplace else will be better.”

Bran frowned. “But what will they do anywhere without all of us there? I mean … they never go anywhere without us–except for Dad’s work trips. Won’t they get bored?”

Arya met Jon’s eyes and both of them tried mightily not to laugh. Bran was thirteen, old enough and smart enough to understand what went on between men and women, but still young enough to be completely oblivious to the idea of their parents as anything other than just their parents. Heck, she was fifteen and had a not-so-secret much older not-a-boyfriend and still didn’t like to think too closely about what went on in Mom’s and Dad’s bedroom when the door was locked, but she had no doubts they wouldn’t get bored on a kid-free vacation!

“They won’t get bored, Bran,” Jon said. “They do like each other, you know.” He laughed just a bit and reached over to ruffle Bran’s hair. 

Bran blushed then. “I know that!” he sputtered. “I just meant … I just …”

“Don’t worry, Bran,” Arya laughed. “It wasn’t even close to the stupidest suggestion we’ve had.”

“What about you, Bossy?” Robb asked as he came back into the family room, followed by a still pouting Sansa. “What brilliant ideas do you have?”

“I don’t know,” Arya said. “But it should be someplace they would both like. So no hockey. And no ballet.”

“I never said …” Sansa started.

“I know you never said ballet,” Arya interrupted quickly. “I’m just trying to make a point. Nothing that just Dad loves or just Mom loves. It has to be something they love together. What do they both love?”

“Me!” Rickon offered with a grin as he walked back in with glass cleaner and a rag. 

Everyone laughed. “Well, yes, Rickon,” Bran said. “We’ve already established that Mom and Dad love all of us, but this trip is just for the two of them.”

Before Arya and Jon could even cover their smiles at Bran’s about-face on couples trips, Rickon grinned more widely. “I didn’t say us,” he said, sticking a tongue out at Bran. “I said me. They only had all you losers trying to get a kid as awesome as me! That’s why they stopped once they got perfection!”

“You wish!” Bran told him, pulling the little cushion he kept behind his back in his wheelchair out and flinging at at the youngest Stark. Of course, he hit a vase which fell to the floor and broke instead.

“I’m not cleaning that!” Rickon announced.

“Could everyone refrain from doing anything stupid for longer than five minutes?” Arya asked in frustration.

Jon, who’d been standing closest to the vase, bent to start picking up the pieces.

“They both like the country as opposed to big cities,” Sansa said. “I mean, Mom likes the city, but Dad hates it. And even Mom is happier surrounded by green.”

That was actually a useful observation. Sansa really was good at this stuff. Even if she was constantly in other people’s business and wasn’t as perfect as everybody thought. “That’s good, Sans,” Arya said. “What else?”

“Water,” Robb offered. “Mom loves being on the water. And Dad does, too, as long as it’s not too hot. No place tropical.” 

“But warm enough to swim,” Jon put in, having somehow dispatched Rickon to fetch a broom and dustpan without making a fuss or raising a protest from the kid. “Aunt Cat loves to swim, and Uncle Ned loves watching her do it.”

“Eww!” Robb protested. “That’s my mother you’re talking about Jon.”

“Yeah, I know. And it’s obvious your dad thinks she’s the hottest woman around every time he looks at her, and this IS an anniversary trip.”

“Just shut up already, Jon,” Robb said, getting a bit red in the face.

One look at Jon told Arya that wasn’t going to happen. Jon and Robb were almost exactly the same age and had been closer than any real twins their whole lives, but they did love to aggravate each other. With a wicked gleam in his grey eyes, he said, “We definitely need to make sure the hotel room is really nice–in case they never leave it.”

Robb flew at Jon and tackled him. Thankfully, nothing fell to the floor except the two of them, and neither of them was truly angry so they just wrestled for a moment with Jon laughing so hard the whole time that Robb finally couldn’t help laughing as well. “Idiot,” he muttered, as he stood up to let Jon off the floor. “Just shut up about my parents’ sex lives, okay? Five times. That’s all I’ve got to acknowledge, man. Five times.”

Of course, that comment caused Sansa, Arya, and even Bran to dissolve into laughter until Rickon finally asked, “Five times what? And you’re not supposed to talk about sex. Big Walder Frey got sent to the principal’s office for talking about sex to some girl on the playground. She called him a dirty liar and told the teacher!”

That stopped the laughter pretty quickly. 

“Hey, bud,” Robb said, going to put an arm around Rickon. “Whatever that Frey kid says about anything is probably wrong.” Arya was honestly quite impressed at how quickly he’d gone from total dork into mature responsible big brother mode.

Rickon looked up at Robb a moment, as if considering his words. “Yeah. He lies a lot,” he said finally. “Is it true that …”

“Later, Rickon,” Robb interrupted with only the slightest hint of red returning to his cheeks. “Ask me later. Or better yet, ask Dad.”

“Please,” Arya said. “We need to stick to the topic at hand. Mom and Dad will be home soon, and who knows when we’ll get everybody here at once and them gone again. So no more acting like idiots. Are we all good with finding someplace in the country–on a lake maybe?”

“With a great big bed …” Jon mumbled, before bursting into laughter again.

Normally, Arya loved seeing Jon’s playful, teasing side, but as Robb punched him hard in the arm, and Rickon looked as if he were trying very hard to puzzle something out, she’d had enough. “That’s it! I’m starting an idiot jar. Any time you do or say anything idiotic, you have to put at least a dollar in it—more depending on how stupid the thing that you said or did was.”

“Hear, hear!” said Sansa. She turned and pulled a little basket down off one of the shelves. “This will do for now,” she said. “We can get an official jar later. Now, let’s get this trip planned.”

All the boys adopted serious expressions, and everyone who’d been standing found places to sit. Arya looked gratefully at her sister. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d wanted so much to just hug Sansa.

“The mountains,” Robb said. “Dad likes mountains, and it doesn’t get too warm there ever. But as long as it gets sunny and warm at all during the day, Mom will swim. You know her.”

“Yes!” Sansa nearly squealed. “And there are places with warm springs. I bet I could find someplace like that! And they could take long walks and go hiking and watch sunsets and have breakfast in bed and …”

Arya smiled as Sansa waxed poetic about the ideal vacation spot for Mom and Dad. The others actually all looked pretty excited now as she talked about it, and Arya had every confidence that their sister would get on-line and find a real-life place that wasn’t too far from the image in her head now that it seemed they’d agreed on a general idea. 

Maybe she’d keep the idiot jar (or basket), though. With this bunch, she could likely raise enough to do a vacation for the entire family next in no time at all. 

sleep

Derek hasn’t slept for more than an hour or two at a time since Laura died. He’s running on anger alone, and he thinks that it’s probably enough. He shifts into his beta form when the weariness gets too bad to function—when he stumbles, when he sways, when he reaches for something and misses—and uses the wolf’s energy to supplement the weaker human’s. It’s not sustainable, probably, but what the hell does Derek care about that? Because the alternative…

The alternative is stopping, and taking a breath, and facing up to the fact that he’s alone, that his entire pack is dead, and everything that happened is his fault.

So, no.

No stopping. No thinking. No resting.

The first time it happens, Derek has gone to Stiles’s house to talk to him about Scott. Scott is a werewolf now, but he’s resisting everything that means including Derek—especially Derek—and Derek knows the only way to get him to see reason is to get Stiles on side. And Stiles seems smart, and practical, even if he is more than a little weird and twitchy.

So Derek goes to his house.

The sheriff’s cruiser is in the drive, so Derek climbs in Stiles’s bedroom window. Which, by the way, is becoming a habit he should probably break sooner rather than later. Stiles’s bedroom door is shut, but the room is empty.

Derek can hear him babbling away to the sheriff downstairs. The sheriff doesn’t sound like he’s contributing too much. Just the occasional affirming noise that encourages Stiles to keep going.

Derek huffs, and glares around Stiles’s bedroom.

He taps the trackpad on Stiles’s laptop, and the screen opens. It’s password protected. Derek types “I TALK TOO MUCH”, but that’s not the password, apparently. Then he types “LYDIA” and isn’t too surprised when it doesn’t work. Stiles might be obsessed with the girl, but everyone knows it, and who’d be stupid enough to pick such an obvious password as the girl he’s crushing on?

There’s a half empty can of Coke on Stiles’s desk. Derek drinks it.

He sits down on Stiles’s bed and stares at the posters on the wall.

The bed is comfortable. The mattress is firm, but not too hard. Derek can’t remember the last time he lay on a mattress, so he lies down and stretches out. Takes a deep breath and fills his lungs with the scent of Stiles—grotty teenage boy, and stale sweat with an undertone of Bengay, but also something clean and earthy like petrichor—and promptly passes out.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

For some reason I always think that you're a massive celebrity figure just off living your celebrity life in europe. Meanwhile I'm just a trashy fan way over here in canada keeping up with your blog knowing that I'll never be as successful. idk weird.. i'm sorry

i’m currently surrounded by no less than 15 empty cans of coke and pepsi that’s the height of my glamorous lifestyle

anonymous asked:

Hide canonically likes manga and probably anime so imagine him and Saiko watching things together and getting all excited yelling at the characters. Sometimes even Shao joins them. Also one day Saiko feels a bit down so Hide takes her to a karaoke and from then on they become a singing duo. They sing songs in different languages and everyone's like "wtf are they saying" except Shuu, who teaches them French and Italian songs. Saiko knows a bit of English so they especially enjoy pretending 1/2

2/2 they're​ singing these deep English songs when in reality they’re making fun of Urie in his face. Also I feel like Saiko would totally kick Hide’s ass in video games. Except strategy games, those are his forte.

Oh my god, Hide and Saiko ganging up on Urie without him even knowing is my new favourite thing. They’re probably good at keeping a poker face for maximum effect but sometimes it’s just too funny and they can’t stop giggling and snorting in the middle of the song. Urie probably just ignores them and rolls his eyes anyway.

I imagine they like stuffing their faces with unhealthy food while they’re binge watching some TV series or anime and Haise just walks in and sees Saiko and Hide splayed out on the couch surrounded by empty crisp packets and coke cans and starts scolding them both about their health like he’s their mother.

I definitely see Hide being like an older brother to Saiko. She probably actually looks up to him despite how much they tease eachother. No one’s safe when they’re working together, though; they’re an unstoppable force and spread chaos wherever they go.

Banned

Requested- Imagine where the reader is dating young derek and he gets jealous and if you can smut?

I walked from chemistry to lunch, I was so ready to be done with school today. It’s not because I don’t like school, Derek has been out all week due to ‘pack buisness’. Yeah, my boyfriend is a werewolf.He told me everything once I saw him shift. It was actually great that he told me, my uncle deaton, whom I’m staying with, knew about everything on supernatural creatures. Now I often go with my uncle when Talia, derek’s mom, needs help on something. Latley derek’s family has been dealing with rogue omegas, so derek needed to be with his pack during the week. Today was friday and also the day derek and I are catching up on all his missed assignments. I exited the doors leading out to the outside tables. I purposly avoided my other friends since I needed to work on my weekend work now so derek and I can finish his faster. I was about done with literature when I felt someone sit beside me.

“Hey beautiful” Dereks arm went around my waist.

“Hey!” I giggled and looked at him, “What are you doing here?”

“He couldn’t stand being away from his goddess of a girlfriend” Peter sat across from us smiling at me and winking.

“Hey pete” I smiled and rolled my eyes playfully, peters always been flirty but it’s in a casual way. I know he does it to get under derek’s skin. I saw derek roll his eyes before turning his attention back to me.

“That too but the omega came close by here and I just wanted to drop by since I knew you’d be at lunch, why aren’t sitting with everyone?” Derek looked at me questioningly

“I wanted to finish some of my work before I come over, you have a lot to catch up on.” I looked at derek and winked. Peter chuckled

“How come I don’t peg you as someone who likes to do anything other than her work” Peter just smiled, I let out a laugh. Dereks shoulders got tense and smirked at peter.

“You know we can get you banned from school grounds” Derek gave him a deadly look but tried to keep his lazy smirk.

I just chuckled as the bell rang,“I got to go to class, I’ll meet you outside the school.” I turned to derek, peter butted in"Actually I’ll be picking you up, Talia needs derek to help out with the younger omega"

Derek turned and snapped “why can’t you?” His eyes glowed yellow faintly"Is that the only reason you came with me here?“ he growled.

Peter just chuckled “yes and no” He leaned forward and grabbed one of my resses cups. “I wanted one of these” He just winked at derek.

“Hey” I put my hand over dereks"I’m going to class, I’ll be at your house ok? See you later” I leaned up and kissed his cheek.

Derek untensed some and sent me a smile. “See ya then” He smiled before him and peter headed to the tree line. I grabbed my stuff and hurried to my next class hoping the late bell would ring after I got there. The rest of the day went by fast, all I had were art and history. I walked outside the school and waited for peter to show up. It had been about 15 minutes before I heard the sound of peter’s truck. Usually derek barrowed it for when we went somewhere.

I walked out and hoped in it. “Hey” I said smiled at peter.

“Hey yourself” He looked at my chemistry packet I had been trying to finish before getting to dereks. “Still haven’t finished it yet?”

I sighed"All but chemistry and some math" I looked at the paper “I’ve been rushing to finish in class so I didn’t catch todays math lesson”

Peter took a short glance at me before turning back tot he road “What is it? I’ve already graduated so it shouldn’t be anything I can’t handle.”

“Just some geometry, I just didn’t focus so self teaching myself is confusing” I chuckled along with peter.

“ Well dereks not gonna be home until later-ish, want me to help some?” Pter looked at me as we pulled up to the hale house.

I took a glance at the geometry page I had stuffed in the notebook “Well…would you mind? I don’t want to make you or anything”

Peter shook his head “It’s fine, I would be bored anyway. We’re the only ones here for now” I just nodded as we both walked into the house. Peter motioned me to follow him up the stairs. I thought we were headed to dereks room but he stopped at his. Peter walked and turned to me “Derek has all his books at school but I have my copies from highschool here” He walked over to the desk and pulled out two textbooks, Chemistry and Geometry.

I smiled “it’s cool” Peter just motioned to his bed then the floor “Sit where you want, I just want to change, I smell like dirt” I chuckled and sat on his floor with my back against his bed. Peter dissapeared into his closet and came out with a black t-shirt on and some sweats on. He sat down next to me and pulled my notebook from my hands and looked over the pages. “Wanna start with chemistry?” “yeah”

Peter and I finished chemistry easy, it was the math I was struggling to grasp. “ So then you’d add here and subtract here to get this”(Im just making up math as i got so…) Peter pointed out as if it was so easy. I had ended up sitting at his desk while he would just walk back and forth around his room tossing a small ball. I groaned “But how did you get this?” Peter sighed “ I think I know how to explain this” He leaned over me putting an arm on the desk while the other pointed at the numbers in the equation. “Let’s say this was intructions deaton left you to mix up some type of supernatural juice.” I smiled at the juice comment. Peter grabbed my pencil and drew three bottles and labled them. I took notice on how he leaned forward more and almost had his chin resting on my shoulder but I quickly forgot about that when he started talking again “So if it says you need x amount of this, but you already have 8 of this in there and 12 of this, how would you balnce that?” I looked at him as I werily answered “I would divided the amounts?” Peter smiled “Yes” “But I still don-” “I know, I’m not done” Peter pulled my chair to where I faced him. He had grabbed two empty coke cans that he and I were drinking. “Here use these to think as if they were the bottles on the paper” Peter watched as I went through the motions of the problem explaining before I was stuck on the last step “Then..” “Come on Y?N” He leaned forward and stared at me expectantly. I felt frustrated and I knew he heard my heart beat skip when I almost remebered.

“Whats going on” I turned to the side and saw derek staring straight at peter with big amber eyes. Before anything could be said, I hopped up out of the chair in excitment. I did collied with peter but I didn’t really care “YOU MULTIPLY THEN ADD THE REMAINING” Peter looked at me “Yeah! finally.” I smiled again really big because this took to fucking long to learn. My moment of victory was cut short when I heard derek growl.

“Derek!” I smiled now fully relizing he was back. I went over to him and pulled him in for a hug. “How’d it go?” Dereks intense gaze broke from peters and he looked down at me.

“Fine. Hey don’t we have some stuff to do?” Derek’s expression told me he was trying to keep his cool. I smiled at him “Yeah, sounds good” I turned and began grabbing my stuff “Thanks again peter for the help.” I smiled at him one last time before derek closed his door behind me and huffed. I looked at him with my eyebrow raised in question and amusment “What” He said innocently “Come on , we have work” I said as we walked into his room. As soon as the door closed, derek pinned me against it with my arms pinned above me. My stuff scattered all over his floor. “Derek?” I managed to squick out before his lips crashed against mine in a rough, needy kiss. He pressed against, molding our bodies together.

Dereks teeth grazed my bottom lip before biting and pulling causing me to let out a sigh. His togue invaded my mouth, making the kiss rougher. He pulled away and began attacking my neck with sloppy, wet kisses.

“Derek” I gasped quickly,“Whose home, they can hear-” “Its just you,me and peter” He mumbled against my neck “All busy with stuff” His lips returned to mine and he smirked into the kiss. He barley grazed my lips against his causing me to whine slightly. His eyes traveled to my lips then back up to my eyes teasing me. I just let out a huff. “Der” I looked at him blushing, I felt so needy. We haven’t really had any “time” to ourselves for anything. I was already craving for the slightest touch.

“Hmm?” He hummed as his hands slide from my wrist and down my arms. They trailed down the sides of my body till they rested on my hips. He looked at me exspecting me to say something. I just looked up at him “Touch me” I bit my lip after saying that. His eyes darkened “With pleasure” His eyes flashed amber and he ripped off the top I was wearing. I gasped and shivered at the sudden cool feeling, I didn’t relize how hot it had became. His lips smashed back on mine as I felt his hands working on my jeans. I reached for his shirt wanting it off. He pulled away just long enough to pull it off. I oulled away when his lips touched mine.

“so you get to take yours off but mine gets ripped?” I smirked at him. “I want whats mine now” He shrugged. His hands grabbed me by the back of my thighs signalling for me to jump. He pinned me to the wall “You know that right beautiful” His lips grazed my ear “You’re mine” I felt his hand make it’s way into my panties and gently rub up and down my slit. I let out sigh and shivered at his warm tough. “You didn’t answer me baby girl” He said as he began rubbing small circles over my clit. I let out a small whine at the touch and looked up at him “I’m yours” I felt him slip two fingers in me and I couldn’t hold back the moan. They moved at a sow teasing pace. “Der please” I moved my hips impatiently against him wanting more. Derek pulled me into a kiss before he ripped my panties off. “Do not rip my bra” I mumbled against his lips as his hand went to my bra. “I won’t, I like this one” He unclipped it easliy and went back in for a kiss. I began grinding against him desperlatly wanting some form of contact. He let out a groan and he struggled to remove his boxers and not drop me. He pulled away for split second once they were off as if he was listening to someting. “What” I said breathlessly. He smirked “Nothing” Before latching onto my neck. He teased my enterence with his tip making me moan “Please der” I said exassberated. He chuckled before sinking into me all the way. “Fuck” I squicked as he began thrusting fast and hard. I couldn’t stop the moans that left my mouth. I let my nails trail from his shoulders down his back. He growled into to my neck and I felt his claws dig slightly into my thighs as his thrust reached a supernatural feriousity. “AH DEREK” I moaned out at his new speed. Derek’s teeth grazed my neck before finding my sweet spot. I bucked my hips against his when he bit down on the area. I was too far gone to really care about the mark. He moved to my shpulder and bit down harder than before. “D-Derek I’m close” I stuttered out “Whos making you feel this good” He stated pulling back and looking at me. “you” I panted put “Hmm” His thrust slowed making me throw my head back in frustration “YOU” I moaned out while trying to move my hips but his hands kept them still. Suddenly he picked up speed again “Say my name” He said “derek” I moaned out. One of his hands began rubbing my clit “Scream it” He groaned. “OH DEREK” I cried out as I felt my self reaching the edge. His fingers moved faster “Let go, cum” He ordered his eyes glowing bright amber. I closed my eyes and cried out as I reached my climax. Derek thrusted a few more time before reaching his own. He continued thrusting,riding out both of our orgasms. He pulled out and hugged me close to his body as he walked over to his bed and collasped. I caught my breath and looked up at him.

“so that’s what you do when you’re jealous” He looked down at me briefly before looking away “What, I don’t get what you’re talking about” I just smiled and let out a laugh. “I don’t mind jealous you” I winked and stood up slowly and slipped his T-shirt over my head. “What are you doing?” Derek said as he sat up on his elbows. “We still have alot of work to do” I smirked and threw his makeup packet at him.

Peters Pov

I rolled my eyes at my nephew. I continued to listen to them until I spoke up “So territorial” Knowing he would hear me. “And you can’t bane me from my home with your little noises” I muttered and put on some headphones. Kids.

There’s a strange liminality to train stations at night. Empty Coke can, metal bench that’s cold through your trousers, lamp casting a yellow halo on the ground. The woman standing at its base is whisper-shouting at someone over the phone. You’ve got your headphones on, music turned low so you can listen in while pretending not to. A place you only go to get to other places. A little pocket of reality that only exists when you’re in it.
—  the perfect asymmetry of matter w.i.p
Hogwarts Houses 11pm
  • Gryffindor: Hamburger wrappers in the front seat or the car. AUX cords being passed and star gazing. TPing bosses/professors houses. Best selling novels in the backseat with empty coke cans. Leather jackets that smell of the ocean.
  • Ravenclaw: College Library, snikers bars and podcasts. Your friends around a table editing poetry. You talk about film scientifically.
  • Hufflepuff: Anxiety, usually cold tea and dirty mugs in the bedroom. Cookies with your friend over Skype. You are marathoning 70s movies while giving your cat a good scratch behind the ears.
  • Slytherin: Dennys with close friends judging the wait staff. Talking about Dnd or a album they love. Toast with black berry jam and coffee.

anonymous asked:

I used to love making art and creating things, but always had a hard time starting big projects, since I've always been afraid of failure and hyper-critical of my art... While the thought of never drawing again brings me to tears, I can't draw because... I don't love my art, I despise how little progress I've made, and I'm angry I can't motivate myself to start. What can I possibly do to start liking my art and make progress, even if it's not perfect?

There is a legend, at the art school that I graduated from. The legend of the pop can. It happened my freshman year, before I got quite so jaded to all the weird shit that happens at art schools. What happened was this: A (clearly empty) coke can was placed on a pedestal in a common area. It remained there for months. Was it art? It was on a pedestal, which is where art goes. But also, it was an empty pop can. Nobody had the moxie of this hero right away and so for a long time, it just stood there, a monument to the sheer apathy that comes from being asked ‘what IS art?’ three hundred and sixty thousand times. 

Years later, I discovered that the man behind the can was none other than one of my favorite drawing professors, a phenominal painter and printmaker who I respect highly, who also once spent ten minutes explaining isotropic space to my figure class, only to conclude that his favorite method of suggesting it on a 2D plane is by adding a flying saucer. 

When I asked him “why the pop can” he smiled, and I realized that it had been the funniest goddamn joke I’ve ever seen all along. 

The point of my story is this: I’m not saying you shouldn’t take art seriously, but art is fucking ridiculous, ok? We are in an age in which art can be literally indistinguishable from trash. Why worry about making The Painting of the Century when you can paint people fighting Godzilla in a pastural landscape? 

Some further ideas and suggestions:

- Get a sketchbook. Fill it. The goal isn’t to draw pretty, the goal is to cover all those pages up. If you draw something you really hate, get some opaque paint and paint right over it. Just fill the book. Go fast, don’t look back.

- Accept Bob Ross as your guide. Seriously, when I get too panicky about art, I put on a mix of upbeat music and Joy of Painting videos, so that I have a musical soundtrack of Bob Ross gently reminding me that painting is fun and that all will be well. 

- Redefine failure. In this case, the only wrong thing you could do is give up something you love that could bring you joy. Honestly, who cares if your drawings are Good or not? You have nothing to prove. 

- Sometimes, I think that we dislike our own creations the way that we dislike hearing recordings of our own voice. I don’t know where the knee-jerk hatred bred from recognition comes from, but it happens to most of us. All the artists that you love probably wish they made work more like their favorite artists. But we can only be ourselves, so learning to be gentle with yourself should be on your list. 

- If the point is to enjoy yourself and have a nice time, and you are having a lovely time drawing, then all of your drawings are fulfilling their purpose, and are therefore exactly what they need to be. Draw a rad little stegosaurus. Laugh about his funny little kneecaps. Write him a silly speech bubble. He’s doing his best and so are you. Your best is enough.  


Remember this above all: Your worth is not determined by how well you can draw. You are already great. Let yourself make something. Let yourself enjoy it. Put a pop can on a pedestal. Laugh about it. 

-Evvy

Still Waters

Note: This should be a drabble for @thecobaltbluetie , but my mind went crazy and it got too large for a drabble. The prompt is the first line. I hope you enjoy, the second chapter will be uploaded when I finished writing so maybe you’ll have to be patient. I’m kinda nervous so I’d love to hear what you think!

tagging: @destielonfire , @loveitsallineed


One

“Oh yeah, you really told him, didn’t you?” Charlie asked, her voice overly sarcastic. Castiel, who himself can be sarcastic at times, now looked at her as he tried to open his can of Fanta. Most people thought it was weird that someone like Castiel didn’t drink, didn’t smoke and didn’t even drink coke. He just really liked his Fanta, and they had no reason to judge.

“Told what?” He asked as he put the can to his lips, taking a sip. He squinted a little at the sip that was just too large and tried not to choke. Charlie rolled her eyes and relaxed back against the wall in the cafeteria, her legs draped over Cas’ legs, enjoying her own drink.

“Dean. That you like him, of course.” She said simply.

“Why would I tell him-“ When Cas noticed her glance, he realized she’d been kidding. Annoyed that he hadn’t noticed, he pushed her legs from his lap only to have them settled back within seconds.

“I meant that you’re gonna join him in the swimming contest, of course. That you’re a team.” She said, playing with her nearly empty can of coke. The swimming contest was set up for a few High Schools from towns around there, and would take place in a few weeks. All schools got to choose two students to participate.

 Dean was already chosen pretty soon, he was seen as the leader of the jocks anyways, so that hadn’t been a surprise to anyone. There’d been a match for the other contestant in which everyone could participate, and Cas partly accidentally won that.

Mostly because he didn’t know an answer, Castiel took another way too large sip. First of all, even though Charlie would never believe it, Cas was kinda scared for Dean’s reaction. He didn’t think Dean would enjoy having him as his buddy and he’d rather have Benny, or Kevin, but not Castiel. 

Castiel was not in Dean’s ‘gang’ and the only connections they had were Charlie, their class, and science project last year. So Cas liking Dean, crushing on him like the girls in their class, was a one lane road that Cas had been driving for three years now. 

Yeah, Dean said ‘hey’ in the hall, and sometimes they talked for a bit, but friends? Nah, Cas didn’t think saying ‘how are you’ every once in a while counted as being friends. So him being the other one who’d been chosen for the swimming contest was both great and terrible. 

It meant spending time with Dean, maybe even talking alone, but it also meant Dean could reject Castiel as easily as he rejected those poor girls that swooned around him. ­Dean wouldn’t want Castiel as his teammate, but he’d have to deal with it. 

Castiel rather had that rejection alone than surrounded by a group of Dean’s friends and tons of others to laugh at him. He might look tough, with his black leather jacket, the lines under his eyes, his earrings, septum piercing and his ‘attitude’, but inside…

“Hey, Casanova, ya listenin’?” Charlie’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“Hm?” He asked, balancing his drink on her leg.

“You should tell him. The swimming thing.”

“He’ll find out this afternoon when we go practice.”

“Jeez Cas, since when are you too shy to-“

“Shut it, Charlie, will you?” He raised his voice only slightly, but it was enough for her to understand this was a limit.

“Love you too.”


With a last quick look behind him, Dean hurried into the guy’s changing room of the school’s swimming pool, sighing in relief as he didn’t hear the giggle of girls on the other side of the door. With a slight haste, he began to take off his vest and shirt and tossed them on the bench.

He fumbled with his belt for a bit before slipping his jeans down and taking his swimming trunks out of his bag. He wondered who the other contestant was, he was curious because no one had come up to him yet. It wasn’t Benny, and he’d just wiggled his eyebrows when Dean begged him to tell him who it was.

“Not me.” Was all the broad shouldered guy had chuckled before tugging at his cap and changing the subject. No one would tell him, probably Benny’s idea. Was it a girl? He didn’t think the school would have a girl and a boy in one team, the conservative bitches. But even if it was, there was no reason to get all excited for Benny and the others.

Dean was not interested in girls, not in this school at least, even though he’d never said that out loud. His reputation, sadly, was important. It was all he had to keep going in school and get through the shit at home. If he’d come out to everyone, saying he was bi, inclining to the guys, it’d probably change some in the popularity Dean had built by faking his confidence and tough ego. 

Yeah, he didn’t think he looked bad for a guy of seventeen, but he’d never bring a friggin’ comb to school if people wouldn’t call him John Travolta with a weird sort of awe. It was stupid and dumb and wrong, he knew, but that kind of summed him up anyways, didn’t it?

He slipped off his underwear with a weird sense of being naked in school, alone, as he fumbled with his swimming trunks. He really hoped no one would get in right now. That was the reason why he’d come in so early, he didn’t want to awkwardly change in front of whoever would be his teammate. 

He thought about who it could be as he put his clothes in his bag, walked over to the mirror and tried to get his hair to look better. He didn’t mind who it was, as long as it wasn’t Crowley, Alistair or Gordon. But they weren’t fast anyways, maybe Alistair, but… Mr. Shurley would never accept numero uno asshole to represent the school in one of the biggest contests of the year, would he?

He left towards the pool. It was still empty and dark, so Dean flicked on the lights. They started to buzz at first and eventually filled the room with light. He sat down on the side and dipped his feet in the water, facing the door. He sat in silence, waited, thought. Not Crowley, not Alistair, not Gordon. 

He was scared of them.

They reminded him too much of his dad, the way they could make Dean feel worthless.

It took maybe ten minutes, but it felt like days. Finally, the door opened and a tall guy got in whom Dean immediately recognized. Castiel Novak. If Dean hadn’t been sitting he’d probably lost balance for a moment. His knees got weak and a warm and a tingly feeling spread through his stomach which he really didn’t want to get down to his trunks. 

Castiel was an appearance different from anyone. He was slim yet strong built, and his body was covered in images of ink, beautiful and mysterious and oh. Dean had never seen the tattoos besides the ones on his arms before. He wondered if anyone ever had.  

There were flowers on his shoulder, on his lower arm a cross that Dean’d only seen partly, on Castiel’s lower side were two birds that Dean thought to be sparrows. There were a few small stars on the inner of Castiel’s other arm, a row of trees, a small cat at his wrist.

There was a tiny one at the edge of his trunks, but Dean couldn’t see what it was and it wasn’t a good idea to stare at Castiel’s crotch for too long. His hipbones were strong created a perfect ‘v’, and Dean knew, this was the kind of guy he fell for. The guys he shouldn’t look at for too long without making it awkward.

“Hello Dean,” Castiel said, his rough voice echoing slightly.

“Hey Castiel,” he answered in a much steadier voice than he’d imagined. There was no sign of shyness in the way Castiel stretched his arms and walked over to the side of the swimming pool.

“I’m sorry if you’d preferred someone else to accompany you.” He stretched again, dipping his toes in the water but not looking at Dean.

“Oh- no, no it’s- it’s fine, Cas, really.” Dean got on his feet, unsure of where to look.

“Did you just call me Cas?”

Shit, awkward, Shit.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry, I-”

Castiel’s chuckle was soft and genuine.

“It’s okay. I like it. I just hadn’t expected you to talk to me like that.” Their eyes met by accident and Dean looked away before the heat could creep up deep into his cheeks and form an obvious blush.

“The others were kinda keeping it a secret who my team mate would be, Benny and all. I don’t really understand why they’d do that.” Dean hoped that if he’d keep talking, he had less time to stare.

“They probably thought I’d be a funny disappointment,” Castiel answered dry, looking at Dean with his head slightly tilted to the side. He’d taken out his septum piercing and his hair was a little more ruffled than normally.

“Well, they were wrong, huh?” Dean spoke, faking the confidence in his voice as always. “Let’s take a dive.”

The best part about training for the contest was Castiel’s wet body. Castiel’s wet hair that stuck to his head. The tattoo on his back, big impressive angel wings, the most beautiful tattoo Dean had ever seen. 

The way Castiel dived into the water like a professional, swimming fast and winning from Dean nearly every time. Maybe the water washed away Dean’s nerves. After a few laps, it was easier for him to talk and joke like he would with a friend. A friend. Castiel.  He smiled at the idea.

When they were done, they walked into the changing room together, talking about what they knew about the contest. Their voices were lively as they got to their bags and pulled out their towels.

Dean suddenly realized that they had to change here, together, too. It was quite normal for the guys here to do so. But the whole showering naked thing had always made him quite nervous and he’d rather change somewhere else, but Castiel was already taking out his clothes and Dean wasn’t gonna stop him. 
He shifted around trying not to look when Castiel started to take off his trunks. 

Dean’s head was on fire, his back turned to Cas while their conversation went on. Before he knew, he was naked himself and changing back into his boxers. When he turned around, he could just see Castiel’s glance shift from the mirror to the shirt he was holding, a rosy tint on his cheeks. 

Neither said anything about it.

Sub Calum- Calum Hood Imagine (smut)- straight version

Requested- Yes

Anon-  ok so u have dom luke, but (wait for it) sub calum

Pairing- Calum & Y/N

Words- 2150+

Summary-  Calum tries to make up for never doing as you ask him by being your submissive for a while and the fun that ensues may just convince him to let you do more

NOTE- I can make an extra part to any imagine/smut in my masterlist.  Just ask

NOTE- REQUESTS ARE CURRENTLY CLOSED.  THESE IMAGINES/SMUT ARE CATCH UPS FROM PREVIOUS REQUESTS

Masterlist / Ask


“Calum would u please just do what I’m asking you?” You sighed as Calum grumbled from his chair.

 "I can’t be bothered getting up,“ he replies, his fingers working across the Xbox controllers with ease. 

 "Ugh!" 

 You give up and march over to the table to pick up the rubbish that has accumulated there. There are empty cans of coke and empty crisp wrappers all over the place and you wonder how your boyfriend can even find his Xbox through all this crap. 

 "Honestly Calum would it kill you just to listen to me for once?!” You snap and with that you bin the rubbish and storm outside to calm down. 

 You are so angry right now. Calum never does anything you ask and it’s so frustrating sometimes. Sometimes you feel like he just takes complete advantage of you. He knows that if he refuses to do something enough times then you will eventually get fed up of asking and do it yourself. 

 You loved him but he really knew how to push your buttons and right now he’d pushed every single one to the max. You sat down on the patio furniture and sighed. One of these days he would surprise you and actually do what you asked of him but you had no idea how long that wait would be. 

 The air was cool outside and over time it faded your temper until you felt level headed enough to go inside. You scowled as you came face to face with an empty room. Calum had gone and he’d left even more rubbish. You heard a shuffling upstairs and something snapped inside of you, it was time this boy knew exactly how angry you were. 

 You made yourself heard as you stomped up the stairs and slammed the bedroom door open but that was as far as you got. Calum was knelt in the middle of the bedroom floor with nothing but his boxers on and, for a second every thought left your head but how sexy he looked. 

 "What are you doing?“ You snapped as your voice and anger returned. 

 "You wanted me to do as I was told. I figured we could have fun with that." 

You frowned as you deliberated his words then it dawned on you and your jaw dropped. 

 "You want to be my submissive?” You gasped. 

 "Don’t act so shocked Y/N,“ he huffed, "you’ve done it with other guys." 

 "Yeah but I thought it was off limits with you." 

 "Well call me curious. I want to know what it’s like." 

 "Oh you are so going to regret this,” you smirk as you step in to the room and slam the door. 

“Wait there,” you demand as you cross the room to the ensuite. You shut yourself inside and try not to get to excited at the prospect of dominating your sexy as fuck boyfriend. 

 CALUMS POV 

 I can’t believe I’m doing this but I know this is a huge turn on to her. Plus she is right. It’s about time I listened to her for a change. I saw how angry she was when she went outside and I couldn’t stand being the reason for that. Maybe this wasn’t the best way to say sorry but it was definitely the most interesting. 

Time seemed to tick by slower while she was in the bathroom and I wondered what she was doing. It wasn’t until she opened the door and stepped out in a slinky black camisole and thin, black stilettos that I remembered our bathroom has a door straight to our walk in wardrobe. 

 "Don’t look at me,“ she ordered and I quickly lowered my head.

 "Hmm you look good,” she complimented as I watched her feet click around me. 

 I wanted to say that she did too. Cause I had never seen her look so sexy before. We weren’t patient in bed. We didn’t take the time to appreciate each other. When we were aroused it usually resulted in a fumbled but satisfying quickie. 

 I couldn’t remember the last time she had dressed up for me and there had never been a time when she had been so in control. Not with me at least. Her voice was sultry and so sensual and she hummed to herself as she walked around me. I gulped as she gripped the hair at the back of my head and pulled it back so I was looking up at her. 

 "You really know how to piss me off,“ she sighed, ” and now you’re going to pay for all those times that you couldn’t just do what I asked of you.“ 

 I didn’t know why but that sounded so hot and I could feel my erection growing in my boxers. God I wanted her but something told me I wouldn’t be getting her for a while. 

 "Stand up,” she demanded and she helped me to my feet with her hand in my hair. 

 A small whimper escaped my mouth as she stalked around me, running her fingers across my bare torso. She traced over my tattoos and murmured in appreciation. 

 "You may not know this baby but I can have you begging for mercy in mere seconds,“ she warns me and I feel my length twitch again. 

 Why does every little thing she says sound so arousing right now? And a shocking thought comes to my mind. Am I enjoying this? Am I actually getting turned on by her dominating me? It’s the most bizarre feeling and I cry out as her palm connects with the fabric of my boxers. 

 "Hmm for someone who doesn’t like to do as their told you sure don’t mind it in the bedroom,” she muses and I gulp. 

 "So here’s what’s going to happen,“ she explains, "I am going to touch you. I’m going to kiss you and suck you off and play with you however I like and you have two tiny little rules to obey." 

 "What?” I stutter. “Hmm make that three,” she changed her mind as her hand collided with my backside. 

 I’m jerked forwards slightly in surprise but it doesn’t feel bad. 

 "Rule number one. You will refer to me as madam or mistress at all times. You use my name and I won’t allow you to come.“ 

 Was she serious? No way! She couldn’t seriously withhold my pleasure? Could she? 

 "Rule number two. You are not to make a sound unless I tell you to. And rule number three. You are not to come until I give you permission.” “You disobey any of these rules and I will make you pay for it." 

 I want to ask how. How will I pay for it? How will I stop myself from coming when she plans to tease me so? But I can’t. Rule number two stops me from. 

She doesn’t elaborate but I purse my lips and slam my teeth shut as she circles me again, her hands roaming my naked chest. It takes every price of strength inside me not to cry out when she finds that spot just above my collar bone and sucks down with force. 

 YOUR POV 

 He is struggling already and it makes you proud. He never could carry out orders but this time you don’t really want him to. You want him to disobey you because the punishment is even better than the reward. If he breaks even just one of your rules then you will tie him to the bed and use him to pleasure yourself and yourself only. 

 Of course you would come back for him eventually but you would take your sweet time. 

 The poor boy doesn’t know what has hit him. He’s never experienced anything like this before. 

 You remember telling him all about how you loved being dominant and how you’d done it with other boyfriends. That was the cut off point for him. He didn’t care about being submissive or me being in control. In fact he had admitted that it sounded quite sexy but the fact you had done it with other boys meant that he didn’t want to do it. He didn’t want to just be another boy in your belt. He wasn’t though. 

 You’d never enjoyed it as much as you were now. Calum was the perfect submissive. He didn’t know enough to question anything and he hadn’t a clue what punishment awaited him if he disobeyed you. He was new and innocent and he looked so good when he tried to hide his arousal. 

 You sunk to your knees and you felt the vibration in his chest as he forced back a groan. His obvious arousal was so enticing and you prayed that he would disobey you just once and break a rule.  You wanted to use him so badly. Luckily you knew all the tricks to get him moaning and you began by removing his boxers. 

 The air hit his length and it slapped up against his lower stomach. He was long and thin and small beads of pre cum glistened on his tip. You leaned in and licked it clean and he sucked air in through his teeth. You knew he would fail before long but he would do everything he could to keep quiet until then. You admired his length for a bit then slid it in to your mouth. 

 Typically, dominating a boy consisted of whipping them and binding them etc. But you liked to start slow. Calum had never done anything like this and pleasuring him while he couldn’t react was a decent enough start. 

 His whole body tensed and you could tell he was dying to make some sound or movement. You could picture him thinking of anything but what you were doing to him just to get through this and it was a delicious image. 

 It was roughly five minutes before he made a sound. You pushed his length as far back in you throat as you could hack without choking and it proved too much. 

 "Fu-uck,” he stammered then his hand flew to his mouth, clamping around it but it was too late. 

 "Oh dear,“ you smirked, "looks like someone broke the rules." 

 He gulped and you could tell he was nervous. 

 "Lie down on the bed,” you demanded and it was the quickest you had ever seen Calum do as you said.

 He blushed slightly as you reached in to one of your drawers on the dresser and pulled out some cuffs. This was a lot kinkier than he was used to. 

 You crossed to the bed and climbed above him, straddling his thigh as you clicked first one cuff over his wrist then the other. You stroked up his muscular arms, across his biceps as you cuffed him to the head rest, arms wide apart. 

“Here’s what I’m going to do,” you explained, climbing off the bed and stripping out of everything but the heels on your feet. 

 You stood on the edge of the bed and brought a heel down on his chest.  

“I’m going to use that noisy little mouth of yours,“ you smirked, ” and I’m going to come as many times as I like against those pouty little lips. And you? You’re going to do everything I tell you to with that mouth of yours.“ 

 He blinked and his length twitched as his balls shrunk slightly. Apparently your punishment was a turn on for him but you didn’t care. You had only ever dreamed of riding your boys face. Calum had the kind of lips that made every bit of your body quiver with just the thought of having them around your sweet spot.

 You lowered yourself on to his face before he could react any further. 

 "Suck my clit,” you groaned and he obeyed instantly. You ground against his face, feeling his strong jaw tighten as he sucked on your bundle of nerves. 

 You no longer felt in control but you couldn’t care less. He felt so good and you loved how obedient he was. You barked out orders and he obliged every time. 

 " kitten lick my clit.“ 

 "Circle your tongue." 

 "Figures of eight." 

 "Nibble my folds." 

 And finally, "fuck me with your tongue." 

 It was the last one that pushed you to your end. You gripped Calum’s shoulders as your sex convulsed against his warm lips. 

 Your cries echoed around the room and for a brief few seconds you were helpless to your body’s reaction and not at all in charge. When you could feel your body again and the numbness had died down, you climbed off Calum and stared down at his naked body from your spot beside the bed. 

 "God I want to whip you in to shape,” you admitted and Calum bit down in his lip but this time it was with arousal instead of uncertainty. 

 "Then do it,“ he pleaded and his breathlessness and flushed face made it all the more rewarding.