eye wiggles

genderfluid-royalty  asked:

Noodle, 33?

Noodle

“I’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention.”

Noodle continues to play with your feelings by turning the other way, smiling as she sees you pouting out of the corner of her eye. She wiggles in her seat, waiting for you to prod at her again; it takes another few minutes before your determination is back and you deliver a swift jab to her side, sending her tumbling over in a fit of tears. 

She was apparently very ticklish.

You take advantage of the opportunity and tackle her, finger poking her side in the exact same spot again and causing her to burst into another fit of giggles. You loved the way she looked when she was laughing, her smile blinding, her laughter musical and uplifting… Boy, were you in love. 

“You have my attention, you have it!” She grabs your hand to stop you from tickling her again, “I’ll never not give you attention again!” 

“Good, then you’ve learned your lesson.” You dipped down to press a kiss to her lips, her arms wrapping around your neck and pulling you firmly against her. 

“Do you have any more lessons to teach me?” She asks with a devious smile. “I’m always willing to learn.”

SINCERELY, YOUR NEW FWB

Originally posted by magiccastles

anon said : can you do a yugyeom enemy to fwb smut where the reader is a bit younger? thank you!

Summary : You say you can’t stand him. He tells you to take a seat then.

Warnings : language, smut

Word Count : 2.8k+


If Yugyeom interrupted the lecturer one more time, you were going to take the stapler off of the desk and staple his lips shut. Okay… not really. That was a really gross thought actually. You discreetly shook your head, trying to get the image the thought had conjured out of your mind.

You had been thrilled to be selected as a TA during your first year of college. The thrill had lessened slightly as the year had progressed. Honestly it wasn’t the job that had lessened the thrill. Everything would have been fine if Yugyeom wasn’t a student in the only class you were working as a TA in.

Yugyeom. College Junior. Majoring in dance. Minoring in music. A complete jerk.

It seemed that he’d made it his job to annoy every serious college student, go to every college party, and to have sex with every hot college girl. And one more thing… what was it… oh yeah! He’d made it his job to annoy the shit out of you.

Keep reading

lazulisong  asked:

top five fantasies victor had about yuri that yuri accidentally shattered

1. yuuri katsuki: international man of mystery

yuuri katsuki is not an international man of mystery.  he is not an assassin, or a spy, which victor had begun to suspect by the time he first arrived in hasetsu.  and that was a shame, because victor thought he could only be seduced that thoroughly by spies, and being an assassin would explain why he never called once, vanished into thin air, never to be seen again, probably not having existed at all.  victor scours his room for clues while yuuri is in the bath, but instead of coming up with a secret weapons cache, all he finds is a hastily stashed collections of posters featuring himself.  yuuri katsuki is definitely not an international man of mystery.

however, he is the most beautiful skater victor’s ever seen in his life.  he lets music possess him, and when he smiles it sets victor’s whole body on fire because he feels like he earned it.  yuuri katsuki is beautifully, wonderfully ordinary.  he likes bad hip-hop, milk-flavored candies and he still reads comic books.  when he speaks, he’s painfully sincere, more than victor’s ever been about anything in his entire life.  he’s completely see-through, once you know where to look.  and victor likes that even more. 

2. yuuri katsuki is not a classy broad

when victor dreams of yuuri katsuki after the grand prix banquet, he anticipates a man more cultured.  which is stupid, because yuuri was a mess the night of the grand prix banquet, but victor had seen him dance, and he thought only a man of refined tastes and pleasures can move so delicately when hammered, and so when he would write dream dates in his dream date diary he would write about taking yuuri to staraya tamozhnya or percoso or EM after a night at the opera, where victor would have blown yuuri thoroughly during an act of carmen in a private box.  they would order ten course meals the size of their palms and yuuri would dissect the the wine menu and demand to see the sommelier.  he would let victor spoon feed him sweetbreads and sea urchin and shark fin soup, close his eyes and moan.

on the way back from cup of china, they stay overnight in nagasaki before heading back to hasetsu.  the restaurant they go to was secretly booked two months in advance, because if victor hadn’t kissed him by now, he was setting himself a deadline.  the menu is a 14-course pre fix that thematically incorporates black walnuts.  

yuuri orders the house red for 600 yen on happy hour.  he wears the same terrible suit with the same awful tie he’s worn everywhere since victor’s known him.  he does not like black walnuts.  victor eats both of their portions.

which is fine, but it’s mildly disappointing.  but on the way back, yuuri’s stomach growls, and victor feels so dumb about the whole thing until they pass by a small supermarket in a mall by the hotel, and yuuri tugs him by the hand inside without saying a word.  he quietly picks out ingredients that amount to 1000 yen altogether, roughly 39,000 less than victor spent on dinner, and takes them back to the hotel.  then he’s almost mad about it.  they get back to the hotel and victor feels a Mood coming on, but then he looks at yuuri who is smiling shy to himself.

“i did this a lot in college,” he says, pouring water from the sink into a cup of noodles.  he’s got the hotel’s iron upside down on the vanity and is cooking an egg on it.  

“what,” victor says.

“you’ll see,” yuuri replies.  

three minutes later, victor has the best meal in his life, second to only yuuri’s mother’s katsudon. 

3. yuuri katsuki doesn’t have a foot thing

“what do you mean you don’t have a foot thing?” victor says confused. “everyone has a feet thing.”

“everyone does not have a foot thing, victor,” yuuri says, rolling his eyes.  he wiggles his toes at victor anyway, feet in the air.  “now c’mere.”

he lets victor fuck his feet anyway.  

4. yuuri katsuki is not afraid of ghosts

“victor, what did you expect?” yuuri asks after the movie. 

victor had expected to have yuuri curl up under his arm.  victor had expected yuuri to hide his face during the scary parts and breathe against his chest, tuck his forehead in the curve of victor’s neck.  instead, victor almost threw his drink at the screen and screamed yelled no less than six times.  

“i thought you would be scared,” victor admits.  the ghost girl made him cry.  

“victor, i’m japanese,” yuuri says.  

5. yuuri katsuki had an awkward phase

yuuri freaks out when he finds a video of an old performance on the internet, and immediately contacts the person who uploaded it to get it removed.  

victor just sees part of the costume over his shoulder and stills.  “yuuri.  is that you?”

yuuri turns around, wide-eyed, trying to hide the screen behind his back. “no!  definitely not me!  just some–some weird kid!”

“when was that taken?” he hadn’t seen it in his first yuuri katsuki youtube fest 2014.  or his second, two months later.  or his third, fourth, or fifth for that matter.  if someone out on the internet had more videos, he needed to know who it was.

“never,” yuuri says.

“yuuri.” victor frowns at him, and when that doesn’t work, tries puppy dog eyes.

“my freshman year of college,” yuuri admits.  “it was–college in america was weird.  i let go for a little bit.”

“like you overate?” victor asks.  he’s heard from other skaters in juniors who left the sport for school in the states–they called it the “freshman fifteen.”

“no, like i,” yuuri says, stops, looks away.  “i may have spent an entire month on ecstacy.”

“what,” victor says.

“i, i, i liked to party?  for awhile, anyway, and it was fun, and i lost control, and anyway, it was just for awhile, but i was still listening to a lot of terrible music by the time i started working on the first free skate for my senior debut, and–”

victor’s snuck around him as he’s been shamefully staring away, and he starts laughing.  “are you kidding?  you skated to darude’s sandstorm? we have to watch this.”

yuuri tackles victor straight into the table, breaking the laptop.  it is three more days before victor can finally watch the video in peace, hiding in the bathroom with his cellphone, before he contacts the guy to ask if there are more.

anonymous asked:

Hey, could you write a fic where Jughead and Archie are working at the construction and Betty and Veronica are going to see them. And just as they arrive, Juggie takes his plaid off (he doesn't notice them), and Betty freezes on the spot and drools over the hot body he was hiding? And Veronica is just as impressed. // Oddly specific, but it'd funny and awesome to see/read, hahahaha

I had way too much fun writing this lol. Enjoy!

“Jug, could you hand me that hammer over there?”

Archie gestured to the beat-up claw hammer sitting on the workbench, wiping a bead of sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Sure thing, Arch,” Jughead muttered, grabbing the hammer by the grip and holding it out for Archie to take.

Jughead adjusted his hardhat, squinting through the glare of the sun to scan the perimeter of the construction site.

“Did Veronica say what time she and Betty were getting here?” Jughead wondered, squatting to the graveled road to pick up a wood beam and haul it to the other side of the work area.

“No, but my guess is that it’ll be awhile,” Archie guessed, placing a nail onto a piece of wood and forcefully hammering it down. “Kevin likes to talk when he’s nervous and he has that big history test tomorrow so I bet he’s going to have a lot to say.”

“When doesn’t he have a lot to say?” Jughead pointed out, tossing the wood into the pile and turning back to Archie with an amused grin.

“Good point,” Archie laughed, stepping backwards to take a look at his handy work and setting the hammer back on the workbench.

“God, how is it November and still close to ninety degrees out here,” Jughead complained, undoing the first few buttons on his plaid shirt and rolling up the sleeves. “What I wouldn’t give for an Arctic snowstorm or some sort of ice apocalypse right now.”

“Better get used to it,” Archie told him. “Working in construction like this? It’s pretty much hot all year around.”

Meanwhile…

“How long did they say they were going to be?” Veronica whined from the front entrance of the construction site, lifting her foot to show Betty the fancy heels that her mother had bought her for her last birthday. “These shoes were not made for walking on gravel and don’t even get me started on what this heat is going to do to the suede lining on this jacket.”

“Patience, V,” Betty told her, glancing down at her watch to check how long they had been standing there. “Jughead and Archie said to meet them here after we were done studying with Kev. They didn’t give me a specific time.”

Betty stood on her tiptoes to see around the giant tree blocking their view of the project that Mr. Andrews and his crew were working on.

“Maybe they meant for us to meet them down at the trailer,” Betty muttered, tugging on Veronica’s sleeve as she trudged through the gravel to lead them farther into the construction area. “Come on, let’s take a walk down there.”

As they rounded the corner, Betty could hear men hammering and lugging large planks of wood around the dirt-covered work area and she knew that they were headed in the right direction.

“Well trust me when I tell you that they do not want to feel the weight of my wrath if this jacket is ruined because-”

“Veronica, shut up,” Betty muttered, stopping dead in her tracks as something -or rather, someone - caught her attention at the edge of the construction site.

Veronica glanced up to follow Betty’s gaze, her eyes going wide at the sight of Jughead unbuttoning his plaid button-down to reveal a surprisingly fit, surprisingly attractive, bare chest.

“Holy hipster-meets-abercrombie,” Veronica mumbled, her mouth dropping open as Jughead tossed his shirt onto a pile of wood beams. “How could you not tell me that broody had a body.”

“I’ve never actually… you know,” Betty stammered, her pulse quickening as Jughead squirted his water bottle over his head, the water droplets trickling down his body in slow motion.

“Seen the abs under all that plaid,” Veronica finished for her, one eyebrow twitching up curiously as they both gaped at the boy standing in front of them. “Well girl, let me be the first to tell you - you were missing out.”

“Tell me about it,” Betty breathed, her cheeks flushing pink as the temperature in the air continued to elevate the longer she watched him haul the wooden planks from the truck to the pile closest to the fence.

“Well if you don’t do something about it after seeing our own personal screening of Magic Mike: Misunderstood High School Boys Edition, I most certainly will,” Veronica warned, rummaging through her purse to pull out the copy of the Grapes of Wrath she borrowed from their English teacher and fanning herself with it dramatically.

“Veronica!” Betty protested, nudging her in the side with her elbow.

“Sorry, B, but your boyfriend has a bod,” Veronica stated. “And it’s working for him.”

“Okay can you stop staring at him like that please, you’re starting to look like a cat in heat,” Betty noticed, her eyes drawing away from Jughead to watch in horror as her best friend bit her bottom lip seductively at the sight of Betty’s shirtless boyfriend. 

“You’re right, sorry,” Veronica muttered, shaking her head as if to draw herself out of a deep trance. “I just - I’ve always had this fantasy of a shirtless construction worker running towards me in slow motion - chiseled chest, dirt-smudged cheeks, a firm a-”

“V!” Betty shrieked, taking her by the arm and pulling her away from her view of Jughead.

“Okay okay, I’ll stop!” Veronica smirked, her eyes dancing wildly as she watched Betty’s gaze slowly drift back to a bare-chested Jughead. “But seriously, you’re going to do something about this right?”

“Like what?”

“B,” Veronica narrowed her eyes at Betty, wiggling her eyebrows at her suggestively as she glanced from Betty, to Jughead, and back again. “Do I really have to spell it out for you.”

“Oh,” Betty mumbled under her breath, her eyes going so wide Veronica thought they might pop right out of her head as realization finally set in. “Oh!

“Finally!” Archie called from the other side of the construction site, setting his equipment to the side and looking up to see his friends standing near the trailer. “What took you guys so long?”

“Oh you know,” Veronica called back, glancing at Betty slyly as her lips curled into an amused grin. “Just enjoying the view.”

“Yeah, the location’s great,” Archie agreed, turning on his heel to gesture towards to area of land behind them. “You can even see the river from over here.”

“Yeah, the river,” Veronica muttered as she and Betty took a few steps closer to meet Archie and Jughead halfway. “That’s totally what we were looking at.”

Jughead leaned forward to grab his shirt, but made no move to slip it back on over his bare shoulders.

“You okay, Bets?” Jughead asked, taking in her bewildered expression and flushed cheeks as he closed the space between them.

“Fine! Just a little…” Betty squeaked, her heart racing wildly as she struggled to pry her eyes away from his chest to meet his gaze. Being this close to him, Betty’s mind drifted to thoughts of her hands exploring his chest, her fingers running through his hair, her lips on his lips, his neck, his stomach. 

“Hot.”

Milkshake | A Valentine’s Day One Shot

I know it’s a day early but here we have one in which Harry fucks up because I hate Valentine’s Day and we don’t need any extra sappy-ness, ok? It’s hard enough being permanently single without having a special day to rub it in my face.

“Date night Tuesday, yeah? For Valentine’s Day?” Harry says as you lie your head on his chest. There’s a show on the telly at the end of the bed but neither of you are really paying attention, more interested in the whispered conversation you’re having. He’s been home for a while but soon he’ll be gone again and you wish you could keep him by your side like this forever so he could never leave. But Gucci clothes don’t buy themselves, do they? Oh but yes they do, you reason, when they’re sent to him for free.

“Gotta be seen to be wearing ‘em, makes everyone money,” he justifies with a small giggle.

“Yeah but I still don’t understand why they give the free stuff to the very people who can afford to pay for it? This is how rich people stay rich, you know? They don’t have to buy anything for themselves. I read that Lady GaGa got given a £10k place to stay for the Super Bowl for free by Air BnB, I mean, what the fuck?”

“Are you saying you don’t like the dress YSL sent you?”

“That is completely beside the point, Harry. Entirely. I can’t afford it, you can.”

“Oh, of course, sorry, I forgot you can’t afford anything with your multi-millionaire fiancé,” he rolls his eyes.

“Nope. What’s yours is yours until you get that ring on my finger,” you tease.

“Still think we should skip the big wedding and jus’ go t’ Vegas.”

“Your mother would kill us both,” you laugh. “And why Vegas, of all places? Could go anywhere in the world on our own and you choose Vegas?”

“When we’re in LA sometime…quick flight to Vegas, married an hour later, done.”

“Gosh, remember when I thought you were romantic?”

Keep reading

#15: We Drunk**

**mature


I thought maybe he should have a payback after he’s done her so well in the last imagine ;)



The car halts on the front gate of the apartment, Harry and Y/N dramatically stumbling forward from the sudden brakes, laughing later at their clumsy behavior. To say they were drunk was an understatement; they’d literally licked alcohol off their glasses, breathed in the waft till it was what they breathed out and paid a bill for a whole month grocery to the bartender.

“Ben!” Harry called out to his driver form the back seat. “Ben, I love you man. God knows what we would’ve been doing without you.”

“I would’ve been driving probably.” Y/N inputs, blinking to keep her eyes open. “I can’t trust you driving drunk, Harry.”

Harry snickers. “You’re drunk too.”

“Yeah.” Y/N nods, blinking at her boyfriend for a good moment of silence. Then, she suddenly threw her hands in the air, exclaiming,”Let’s get outta here!” She opens the door but then sits back inside again, leaning towards the driver’s seat.

“Ben, I swear when I say I love you.” She slurs. “I would’ve have kissed but you see Harry Styles here,” She points animatedly beside her.”He’ll either punch you or me. Yeah, probably me. See ya, buddy! Keep saving people.”

She stumbles out of the car, Harry joining after her a moment later, after he’s planted a wet kiss on Ben’s cheek and told him how much he loves him.

“Y/N! Wait for me!” Harry calls out to the blurring figure of Y/N ahead of him. He strides ahead, clutching her shoulders, and she helps him out, swinging her arm on his shoulder and levering his weight on her body.

“But, Y/N, do you know why’d we drink so much?” He asks, innocently, as they take slow steps to the elevator.

“Because it’s religious to do so.” Y/N presses on  the elevator button, pushing Harry against the wall, and stretching her arms.

“Really? Damn, I should do this every day.” He chuckles, the lift door opening with a ding.

We. We should do it more.” Y/N walks into the elevator first, Harry following behind after he’s clutched her behind in both of his huge hands, keeping the distance between their chest and back a minimal.

Inside the elevator, Harry’s arms wrap around her full waist from behind, rocking her back forth as they wait for the elevator to start. He rests his chin on her shoulder, snuggling his face into her neck as she leans into him more.

“I’m gonna be off to bed, Harry.”

“We’ll see.”

“Hmm.”

“Did you press the button?”

“I thought you did.”

“So…you didn’t?”

“Nope.”

Harry gives her a look. “Kay, I’ll do it.” He leans forward, pushing the button to their floor and resumes to his place behind her, clutching her waist tighter to pull her more close.

They push their way out of the elevator, Y/N having a hard time walking, considering the heavy weight of Harry being slumped on her. He then and now sets off in his own direction and Y/N has to work up to succeed in steering in the right way.

Reaching before their home’s door, Y/N bumps the shoulder Harry’s passed out on. “Harry, the house keys.”

“Whaa..?” He wakes, wiping the corner of his mouth on her shoulder and leaning past it. “What?”

“House keys, you silly cuckoo!” She whisper-yells.

“Cuckoo? Where?” Harry swings on his feet, looking around in the dark hallway.

“Harry!” She turns around, pulling him by the collar of his shirt.”House. Keys.”

“Ah.” He nods in realization. “They’re in my back pocket.” He rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, yawning slightly after leaking out the information.

Y/N boldly stretches, twisting her arm around him to reach his back pocket. She digs her fingers into one, and Harry squeals, chuckling.

“You’re tickling me!”

She winds her other arm around him, reaching for the next pocket, and Harry gladly hugs her back, pulling her face into his chest, giving her a hard time breathing. “Ha-wey.” She calls, voice muffled under his tight grip. Finally, the keys come in her hand.

She pulls away abruptly, Harry let frowning behind her. “I thought we were having a moment there.”

The doors open, Y/N walking in first. “Are you coming in or not?”

“Yeah, yeah, give me a moment.” He stumbles into the hall, mumbling on way.

Y/N locks the door away, putting the keys away on the tray placed at the table by the door. Harry has his boots kicked off, his belt now in his hand as he turns around to Y/N taking her shoes off. He slaps the leather belt against the marble floor, rattling the furniture around, and scaring the hell out of Y/N.

“Harry, wh-“

He strides quick, winding the belt around her and then him, pulling her close to his chest, and although the buckles don’t tie together as he wanted them too, he still keeps a hand holding both end of the belt together.

“Keep walking, you, keep walking.” He mutters to her, eyes eyeing her face like a savage, determined robber. “You’re in the Harry Styles’s grip now.”

Y/N smirks. “So, are we role-playing tonight, hun?”

He gives her a glare. “I didn’t ask you to speak, you little piece of-!“ He lets the rest of the words pass under his breath.

He’s walking her to the direction of the stairs, her back to them as they slowly take steps up.

“I’m tired, though.” Y/N whines, grabbing his chest muscles to grip as she ascends every stair.

“You will not say a word or there will be consequences!” He threatens her in a hoarse voice, sporting the wide eyed, deadly look.

Y/N acts all fragile. “Oh, dear! Sire, I’m still pure, too innocent for ya! Don’t think of me that way, spare this maiden tonight, please!” She looks away, shuddering intentionally like a drama queen.

“Oh, shut up!” Y/N’s back hits the door of their bedroom. “You cannot be pure! You’ve been with a man who’s nonetheless horny as fuck twenty four hours a day! How could you be innocent!”

He slams his hand against the door behind him, hoping it would open, and when it doesn’t, he has to shrug off his role playing and use the handle to push open the door. Y/N laughs at him, finding the chance and slipping out of the grip that she’s in.

“Where d’ya think you’re goi-“  As Y/N jumps on the bed and away from him, Harry runs behind, tripping his foot on the edge of the bed in an attempt to climb up. He lies in pain on the floor, and Y/N gets down to tend him.

“Harry, are y-“ She lets out a shriek when he grabs her hips and turns her over on the floor, pinning her on the carpet floor, and hovering above her.

“Gotcha!” He titters as Y/N struggles underneath him. His face ducks down on her for a kiss, but ends up hitting on her forehead, and they both cry out, laughing in the end.

“Do it again, it brings bad luck, otherwise.” Y/N urges, and they pull in for it again, Harry catching Y/N’s lips right in the moment.

“Mhm, Harry.” She groans, his lips forcefully coming down on her.

“Please, kiss me, kiss me, please.” He coos in a soft, pained voice, leaning down again for her, and she accepts it.

They kiss in a luscious, thirst-quenching manner, the noises of their clicking mouths and heavy breathing the only sound in the room. His hands trail down, holding the hem of her dress in his finger, and he pushes it up, up till it reaches her navel, and he breaks from the kiss, moving down to kiss on the exposed skin.

“Harry, no.” He doesn’t stop, groaning against her skin. “Harry, stop, no.” Y/N slips her fingers on his forehead, pushing him away from her.

“But, why?” He sounds hurt, as he sits up, keeping a close touch on her inner thigh.

Y/N tries and sits up, but Harry’s pushed her twice back and got on top, and she’s twice pushed him and sat back up.

“I have a theory about why we shouldn’t have sex when we’re both drunk?”

“Why?” he asks, frowning.

“Because, we lose our limits.” She says, proud.

“Anything else?”

“This is it.”

“It’s shit. Let’s just do-“

“No!” She whines, pushing him hard by the chest into sitting position. “You don’t understand. What if you forget to put on a condom? And even if you do, what if it’s just left behind in me like in the Love, Rosie movie and I end up having a child?!”

“I won’t really mind.” He shrugs, shy.

“But, I would. Because we’re too young, and you’ll be always off to work, and I’ll have to look after our child all by myself which would not at all be easy, understand?”

“Point.” He nods, lips pursed in a somber expression.

“So, let’s just get back to bed like we’re an old couple.” Y/N sums up, getting off the floor.

“But you just said we’re too young.” Harry points out.

“Oh, just get here in bed, you!”

“But, I’m confused.”

“Stop running your walnut sized brain, you won’t be confused.”

“Point.” Harry nods. “But, I wanna cuddle!”

He jumps off the floor, climbing on top of the bed, where Y/N’s lying already, still in the same party clothes.

“I wanna naked cuddle!” He wiggles his eye brows at her, grinning.

“No!” Y/N whines. “You’re sleeping in these same clothes, so that we’re not confused if we did have sex at night or not.”

“Ah, nice.” Harry gives a cheeky smile. Y/N turns her body to the side, Harry snuggling into her back with his arm wrapping around her hip tightly. “But, can I atleast take off my jeans, they’re too-“

“No! Sleep.” Y/N closes her eyes, unconsciously pushing her behind on his groin, making him wince behind.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Harry consoles, more to himself.

***

Harry groans, waking up, feeling a tight strain in his pants, aching till it literally had him whimpering into the pillow. He opens his eyes, shaking his head, as he looks down to himself to see Y/N behind pressed hard over his morning wood.

It already is a torture having had to struggle with these morning surprises, and now that Y/N had kept rubbing her behind to him the whole night, the erection feels much tighter, harder and achier.

Pulling his hand back to him from around her, Harry sits up, staring at the bulge resting down between his legs. The more he looks at it, the more it hurts inside.

He looks over at Y/N beside him, asleep, and slowly creeping on the edge of the bed, he sits, pop opening his jeans button, groaning and throwing his head back at the sudden rush of air inside the space. He anchors his body with one arm behind, palm flat on the mattress, while his other hand works to undo his jeans and then, slide down his boxer briefs.

His member springs out, hard and erect, swollen at the tip, red and throbbing before his eyes. He runs his fingers over him, erupting shaky breaths from his mouth as sheen of sweat collects around his temple. His fingers wrap around him, moaning, then shushing himself with a lip bite, as he begins to pump up and down, running from the base to the tip. His breathing falters, his mind automatically shifts to thoughts of his girl, sweet and innocent, only his.

His cussing begins, he pumps faster, trying to ease off the tension quicker and free himself of the ache. His chest rises and falls unevenly, and suddenly, he feels a touch on his shoulder. He looks over, Y/N peeping at him pleasuring himself, and see meets his eyes, biting her lip.

“Need some help there, baby?” She rasps, sliding her hand down his shoulder to his wrist. Harry nods, freeing himself from his hold, and leans back, both hands resting back flat against the mattress.

Y/N gets off the bed, sitting on the floor, between his legs, and stares at his throbbing muscle, tensed and swollen in front of her. She gives him a look from underneath her eye lashes; Harry’s gut doing twists staring, down at her.

She takes him in her hands, wrapping her four fingers around, flicking her thumb on the tip of him. Harry throws his head back, spilling her name, as she brings her lips down on the tip, sucking at the pre-cum accumulated. Her hand begins to pump, up and down, up and down, as her lips then and there keep leaving tender pecks on his tip.

She leans her face closer to him, looking up through her eyelashes at him and crooking an eyebrow, sultrily

“Oh, god. Yes, yes, do it, pet.” Harry urges, breath shaky.

She brings the tip close to her mouth, slowing opening her lips to take him in. Her head goes low on him, till he’s filled her to the throat, and she grabs the rest of him in her hand, pausing to taste him around her mouth.

Her hair falls around her face, disrupting the very view from Harry, and he leans forward, clutching her hair in his both hands, bringing it up in a ponytail above her head. She starts moving, thrusting him in her mouth, while her hands pump the rest of him, going down to touch his balls, tickling her fingers underneath them.

Harry tugs at her hair, falling into a relentless saga of moans and curses, throwing his head back when she hollows her cheeks around him, giving that sudden tug at his base. He pants, his chest falling down, and then rising upbeat, Y/N’s pumping turning faster, as she bobs her head against him at a faster rate.

He twitches into her mouth, she feels a back thrust; his hands tug on her roots tighter, and he’s coming undone into her mouth. She swallows his juices, pulling out his cock from her mouth. Kissing slowly from the tip to the base, then up to his stomach and up over his chest, she comes in face to face with him. He leans in for a kiss, but she leans back.

“Morning breath.” She teases, biting her lip.

Harry pulls her to from the back of her head, attaching lips with her in a slow, fulfilling kiss. He sucks on the corner of her mouth, tasting his tanginess on her, before he pulls away, falling back on the bed with a content sigh.

Y/N lies down beside him, and he’s quick to pull her to his chest.

“My headache’s feeling worse now.” She groans against his chest.

“ Need my medicine, d’ya?” Harry smirks, pulling her by the chin to look up at him.

She smirks. “Would you give it to me?”

Harry slides down, leaning in between her legs already, as he slides her panties down her legs.

“But, Harry, tell me this: are you really twenty four hours horny?” She asks, eye fluttering from his kisses on her inner thigh.

He looks up from her legs, grinning. “Only for ya, pet, only for ya.”


MASTERLIST

Misguided Ghosts

Originally posted by wonhontology

Mafia!au; Wonho

Two souls from opposite sides. 

Caution: Smut ahead.


“Hello sweetheart.”

You turned to come face to face with a familiar face. It was Shin Hoseok. The heir to your families rival mafia family. You shot a glare in his direction. “I see someone doesn’t care about his own safety.”

Hoseok entered into your bedroom through the window, a cocky smile spread across his face. “Please,” he chuckled. “You couldn’t hurt me if you wanted to.”

You took the gun that was placed under your vanity, lazily pointing it towards Hoseok. “You really wanna bet your life on it?”

Hoseok continued to saunter over towards you, not concerned about the firearm pointed at him. He took your hand that held the weapon to make the nozzle press against his chest. “Then do it,” he breathed.

You rolled your eyes as you withdrew the pistol. “You seriously have a death wish.” He shrugged, but that smug smile never left his face. “So do you wanna tell me why you risked coming here? You know that if one of my fathers men catches you they’ll kill you without a thought. Especially with you being in my room.”

Hoseok took your hands, pulling you up and into his body. His arms snaked around your waist. “I like to live dangerously,” he whispered into your ear. The breath hitting your sensitive skin, causing chills down your spine. His head dipped to leave a teasing kiss on your neck. You closed your eyes, tilting your head to allow him better access. “Tell me love, how much did you miss me?”

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A Ride on the Nope Train

AN: Have some Barry Allen Fluff as a peace offering. Based off of the titles I had people send in about two weeks ago.

Submitted by: @chappedandchipped

Words: 290


    You love your husband. You love him so much, that sometimes it hurts. Like now, for instance. You do your best to dodge the furniture as you run from Barry. You can’t help but laugh at the goofy grin on his face as he cuts you off at every turn.

    He’s still dressed in his Flash suit, and you can see the beads of sweat on his forehead. You can’t imagine it’s comfortable. Leather in the summer, in Central City. Add in the fact that your AC had been out for the past two days, and you’re fairly certain you could smell him from a mile away.

    He catches you mid air as you jump off the couch. He pins you to the floor, tickling your sides, before lifting your shirt and blowing a raspberry on your tummy. You laugh till it hurts, as he moves in for a kiss.

    He grins, “Come on Y/N, one kiss.”

    You shake your head, still giggling, “Not until you shower.”

    He blows another raspberry on your neck, “One little kiss, for Central City’s hero?”

    “Nope!”

    He gives you the puppy dog eyes, you wiggle underneath him, the heat finally getting to you, “Barry I’m hot.”

    He grins, “You’re smoking sweetheart.”

    “Barry!”

    He gives you an impish grin, and the next thing you know, you’re both in the bathroom. You don’t even have time to say anything before freezing cold water is spraying down on you. All while you’re still dressed in your t-shirt and shorts. You splutter a bit as Barry’s arms hug you from behind. His very bare arms. You turn your head to stare at your husband, to find him grinning at you. With a laugh, you finally kiss him.

experiment sixteen (m)

pairing: reader x park jimin

genre/components: smut // jimin’s a rich boy with a kink; dirty sex in a classroom with an angel is a must

count: 3802 words

a/n: my first smut with bts l o l i hope you like it also recommended to listen to [ take me to church by hozier ]

Park Jimin liked to live his life peacefully. He preferred to avoid complications and confrontations, which was the reason why he tended to steer clear of attachments. Expectedly, he was the heir to the biggest corporation in Korea that monopolized a greater part of the economy, including electricity, water, technology, you name it. It wasn’t surprising either that he was the top-achieving student in the most elite private school in Seoul.

Polite, gracious, and forgiving, he was adored by students and professors. It was disgustingly cliché at times but nobody could really despise Park Jimin for his success. He worked his sweat and bones to reach that point after all. No tears though, because he never cried a day in his life. Not when his mother passed, not with his father’s absence. If heaven gave its blessing to anyone, it would’ve been Jimin.

Though, it didn’t imply that he was a complete saint.

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