from the moment he stepped in

The Aftermath

War can tear people apart.
But it can also bring them together.

Lily ran up the steps, threw open the door, and jumped over the threshold.
Her heart was beating fast, too fast -
James ran after her, and slammed the door behind them with a jolt.
They both stood for a moment, opposite each other, one on each wall, panting desperately -
But Lily could not keep still.
She whipped away from the cracking wallpaper, and walked, as fast as she could without running, down the hallway, her face twisted into a painful expression, fighting back tears -
‘Lily,’ James yelled, running after her. But she would not stop. James still pursued.
Lily,’ he growled.
He followed her into the sitting room, where Lily was pacing back and forth.
Lily!’ James snapped.
He was scared shitless, his heart was racing, he could barely breathe, his head was aching, his whole body hurt with gashes and bruises and sprained muscles and broken bones, and all Lily could do was pace, and she wasn’t listening to him -
But, then, she stopped.
Her eyes wide and fearful, her mouth agape.
She looked so…lost.
James heaved a sigh and collapsed into one of the chairs, his face in his hands.

The fight was chaotic. It was a mess. It was…brutal.
Bodies, everywhere, screams were carried on the air, there was green light, the shrieking of curses, the thud as another fighter lost their life.
James was facing off against one of the many hooded figures, and a few metres away from him was Lily, her face hard, her arm movements sharp as she fired curse after curse after curse.
Maybe James wouldn’t have gotten two of his ribs bruised if he hadn’t been looking over to her every two minutes, but how could he not? He had to make sure she was OK, he had -
Just been disarmed.
Another spell blasted him off his feet, and then he was on his back next to the dead body of a member of the order. He couldn’t bring himself to distinguish the features of his comrade. He didn’t have time.
He swallowed against the rising bile in his throat and backtracked, away from the corpse, his hands scraping against the gravel and dried blood, grappling for his wand -
He looked up, into the hooded face of a Death Eater.
A wand was pointed at his throat.
His opponent seemed to be savouring their apparent victory, and he soon found out why -
They took off their hood, and then James found him staring into the triumphant face of Avery.
'Ready to die, Potter?’ He sneered, flourishing his wand.
'Like hell,’ he spat, blood splattering Avery’s robes.

You - ’ he hissed, disgusted, pointing his wand, but he did not get to finish the sentiment.
A flurry of red and the swish of a cloak.
Lily had a choking hold on Avery from behind, and she did not waste any time -
There was a gargling noise, the snap of a neck being dismembered, and the pooling of fresh blood at James’s feet.
Lily hauled James to his feet, and turned to face her next opponent.
James located his wand, and had it firmly in hand, when he heard a scream from behind -
Lily’s scream.
They were losing the fight, so many had been lost, and now -
He turned.
A death eater had a hold on Lily’s waist, and she was writhing desperately in his arms, screeching -
James didn’t even think.
The death eater was thrown backwards, and Lily was thrown forwards -
He heard the crack of the former’s spine just as he caught Lily in his arms.
'James - ’ she gasped.
'We have to get out of here.’ He said, urgently.
'But, the others - ’
They turned.
Most of the Order were disapparating, or had already retreated.
Lily looked at James with a stony resolve on her face.
She grabbed his hand and they were both dissolved into darkness.

James’s hands were dragged off his eyes, and he looked up too see Lily looking at him with such a reverent sadness it was a wonder he didn’t break on the spot.
'I - I’m - ’
'It’s OK.’ She said, sitting down, slowly, onto his thighs. 'It’s OK.’
James heaved a shaky sigh as Lily put her arms around him, and buried his face against her neck, as Lily kissed his forehead, her eyes fluttering shut against his hair.

Lily had moved James from the chair to the couch in front of the fire, and left, cautioning him to stay put.
James remained, looking into the flames, ignoring the throbbing in his left temple and focusing instead on the way the fire licked at the wood in the hearth, and how it reminded him of -
The fight. Don’t think about the fight.
He blinked, trying to rid his mind of the image of bodies, when Lily returned, holding rolls of bandages and gauze, some towels, and an array of potions in her arms.
He turned to look at her. 'Got enough there, Evans?’ he said, laughing bitterly. But his voice broke, and he couldn’t keep the despair from his voice. He closed his mouth.
Lily smiled, sadly, 'Probably not, if I’m to fix up this mess, Potter.’ she replied, gesturing to his face.
'Oh, harsh.’ He said, his eyes pooling with tears.
'Shut up.’ She said, smiling against her own watering eyes, 'Now sit still.’

She leaned over the sink, her breathing laboured, her heart pounding, and her eyes wide.
She had almost lost him.
James, her James, caught in the middle of the throng, on his back, at the mercy of the enemy.
She’d barely been able to think straight.
Lily had just dismissed her last opponent when she threw herself at Avery, an arm around his neck and her wand at his throat.
She’d been blinded, but she’d done it -
She’d gritted her teeth, and tightened her grip, and uttered the spell that had dismembered his neck, causing the life to drain out of his body, and his blood to pool at James’s feet.
And Lily had barely seen James back to safety before she’d jeopardized her 
own -
But she didn’t understand. They weren’t safe. They were never safe.
She closed her eyes and clutched the enamel rim of the sink.

The dying embers of the fire lit a warm glow around the darkening room, casting shadows against the furniture. The darkness frightened them both, but they focused on each other, instead, to keep from fretting over how the shapes looked like a cloaked figure was standing, waiting in the dusty concealment of the curtain -
Ouch,’ James hissed, grimacing as Lily held a cotton swab, doused with antiseptic, against a cut on his jaw.
'Hold that there,’ she said, reaching behind her for a towel, soaked in lukewarm water, as James took the cotton pad from her.
The nasty gash on his jaw was the last of his injuries that required any special attention; Lily set to work on cleaning up the rest of his face.
She, gently, pressed and wiped away any traces of dirt or dried blood from his cheeks, forehead, nose, lips -

Because even in the aftermath of the fight, he was still beautiful, all sharp angles and hazel eyes and unfairly long lashes -
'Lily?’ James asked, his own hand coming up to cup hers where she had the cloth against his jaw.
She brought her other hand up to his jaw on the opposite side, fingers gently skimming along the rim of bone -
She stopped, brought her hand down, as James did his, and Lily returned to cleaning the other souvenirs of battle from James’s skin.
After a time, when James was clean, and the warm glow of the potions had ebbed away some of the ache in their bones, and the fatigue, the exhaustion had begun to settle in, James took the cloth from Lily.
'Your turn,’ he said.
Lily didn’t even want to think about the state of her own face, arms, hands, filthy, latticed with cuts, and bloody from the fight -
Lily nodded, settling herself back against the cushions of the couch, crossing her legs, whilst James went to wring out the cloth and re-wet it.
When he returned, he sat beside her, gently pressing the towel to Lily’s face.
James could be tender, if he applied himself.
He worked slowly, wiping the dried blood from Lily’s small, pink, dainty lips, smoothing out the gagged wounds on her pale, freckled arms, washing away the dirt that lay in the lines on her porcelain skin -
He, very benignly, ran one calloused thumb along Lily’s lower lip, with the pretense formed in his mind that there was a stubborn speck of dirt that needed sorting out -
'James?’ Lily asked, hesitantly, her head tilting back, slightly.
He looked at her, properly.
She looked tired, concerned, worried.
James brought his hand up, his fingers gently brushing her cheek.
He drew away, looking down at the cloth in his hands.
Lily uncrossed her legs, her shoes touching the ground as she took the cloth from James and placed it on the table with the other first aid items.
She scooted closer to him, her hands moving under his arms, wrapping gently around his torso. Her head came to rest against his chest as his chin lay atop her head, and his arms enveloped her frame, and the pair of them sank back against the pillows, entwined.
And, suddenly, they could breathe again.

They lay like that for what seemed like an eternity, and it still wasn’t long enough.
Until their eyes shut, they stared into the embers of the fire, but, soon enough, exhaustion took over.
Lily’s eyelids would blink slowly, tiredly, but the images of war would not let her sleep.
Her head rose and fell with James’s breaths.
He was exhausted, but still kept her protected, his arms wrapped around her.
The flames danced before his eyes that were tired of seeing.
But, as he looked down at the bundle of red hair, green eyes and unshakeable strength that was Lily, he liked - loved - the sight he beheld.
Almost as though she sensed his eyes on her, Lily broke their position, moving to sit up, her arms either side of James’s torso and her neck elongated to look at him.
'Alright?’ she asked.
He nodded, smiling softly.
Instead of lying back down, though, Lily sat back, her knees brought up to her chest. 'I’m tired,’ she said.
'Same,’ said James.
Tired of fighting. Tired of losing.
But they had each other, and that, in itself, was a triumph.
Lily moved again, getting up, and walking across to stand by the mantelpiece, looking into the flames.
James stood as well, and came to join her.
She looked at him, and he engulfed her in a hug once more.
When they broke apart, they both latched onto each other’s gaze -
The look seemed to hold for longer than expected.
Lily leant up, almost without realizing it -
Their breath caught.
Their noses were almost touching.
Lily, slowly, stood as high as she could, her hands folding into the fabric of James’s shirt.
She pressed her lips to his.
James responded almost immediately, kissing her back, his arms wrapping around her waist, this time, lifting her to him, and Lily’s arms went around his neck.
He pressed into her, furthering the pressure, and Lily’s toes curled in their socks.
A small noise of approval sounded in the back of her throat, and she pressed into him.
James had lowered her, slightly, so that she stood on his toes. He still had one arm around her waist, but the other came up, his fingers tangling into her hair.
Lily’s hands moved to run up James’s torso -
He growled against her lips. 'Would you rather take this up this upstairs?’
She broke away from him long enough to say, 'And what do you mean by that?’ She returned to work, trailing little kisses along his jaw.
'I mean,’ James said, his grip tightening on her waist at the feel of her lips against his jawline, ’d'you want to sleep, or,’ he looked down at her, ’d'you want to, maybe,’ a cheeky grin curled at his lips, and his hazel eyes regained some of their usual mischievous glint, 'do something else?’
'Either way, the bed sounds good,’ said Lily, pulling away to smile at him.
She was still on his toes.
'Well, then,’ he said, his face alight, 'let’s go.’
He steered her across the room in circles, ensuring her feet never left his by the encasing grip around her waist.
'James!’ she shrieked, laughing as he spun them both around, 'we’re going to be even more injured than we were before, you idiot.’
'Would you rather I stopped?’
'I didn’t say that. Just - be careful, for Merlin’s sake.’ For James had almost caught them both on the edge of the dining table.
'It’s not my fault you’re a terrible dancer,’
'Shut up.’

It was a welcome change.
When they did finally make it upstairs, they were, admittedly, somewhat more bruised than when they began.
But, as to what they did when they reached the bedroom - well, that’s up to you.

&& Zox

Fox pocketed her phone, doing as the boy said and moved off the sidewalk and into the snow covered grass. Today wasn’t as cold as it had been as the usually chilly wind the city was famous for wasn’t there penetrating every layer of clothing, but the bitter air still bit at her sensitive skin. When Zach finally came into view, running towards her, she began moving again, meeting him in the middle. She wasn’t expecting the kiss in the slightest, but the girl didn’t reject it and instead, sank into it for a moment, letting everything else around them melt away. As she felt his hand tug at the bags she was carrying Fox let go, letting Zach take the weight of it as he pulled away from her “I told you I don’t want any” she said stubbornly, taking a small step back so they weren’t so close


Echoes Of The Past: Trust Is Key

Valgaav managed to track the spy down.

He already suspected of that Mazoku since Lord Gaav was hiding again out of the Mazoku barrier, his instinct and few details being his only leads to do so. So the hybrid in that time just followed him, waiting to catch him. And Valgaav was right: The traitor was actually a spy of Hellmaster, and was about to report the location of the Demon Dragon King in that moment to a superior one. Fortunately the half-ancient dragon stepped in in time to avoid that, the superior Mazoku seeing him too inferior to bother and letting to the spy the hard work of killing him.

In that time Valgaav wasn’t even half as powerful as he would become later, and only his almost unique nature saved him from dying at the hands of the traitor. Even then, he was severely wounded, crimson blood coming out through the cuts by the claws of his enemy. The Mazoku was in his limit too, though. As Valgaav fell on the ground, he still tried to get up, only being able to use one of his arms as support as he clenched his teeth, the enemy with a big hole on the stomach but still trying to take the hybrid down. The horned one started to summon his power in one of his hands as well.

He would try to survive. But, most important, he wouldn’t allow the traitor to give away the location of his Master and saviour.

x3fallenangelx asked:

Hey i was wondering if you could help me find a fic where Derek and Stiles are in seperate bands. Stiles is a fan of Derek's so he goes to meet him, and Derek doesn't know that he is in a band too. They fall in love but have to keep it a secret from the press. They eventually go public though and Stiles' band breaks up. But they are happy? Thanks for your help. It would mean alot☺️


For a moment I thought it was Play Crack the Sky, but they aren’t in separated bands there. I don’t know this fic tbh, but I tried some AO3-fu here.

So I found one fic that might or might not fit the description?

Hale Storm by  iamfrenchy

Stiles Stilinski wowed the world when he stepped on stage, he took the world by storm with the help of his band and they were famous, they got to play music and be punk rockers every single day. Derek Hale is in the up and coming punk rock band and when people start calling him the new Stiles, Stiles takes notice.

Or the one where Stiles and Derek are famous and they like each other and write music together.

If anyone know, tell me! tell me!

New Face ||Annie & Evan

It’d been a long time since Evan stepped into his apartment in Seattle, having gone home for an extended holiday.Opening the door he took a deep breath and set down his bags, happy to be away from the limelight and to be back to his studies. After unpacking he took his keys and left his home, needing fresh air and wanting nothing more than a nice cup of coffee. The moment he stepped out the door he ran into a new face, one he hadn’t seen before he left. 

“Sorry about that.” He said, giving his best smile. “Didn’t see you there.”

just one step

It’s, well, not so much easy as obvious.
There’s a hunger from beneath, spreading
Its mouth in the attempt to swallow the world.
There’s this body, this one body,
that can slack that hunger.
What’s the world to just one body – what’s
A single moment of pain to peace?
It has to be done.

I’ve loved, and I’ve been loved, and when I’m done
My love will stay and take care of the world.
If it was he in my place, I would’ve thought him selfish,
Taking himself out of our life, but he isn’t,
And I just can’t afford to doubt myself now.
He’ll curse and cry and count the days without my presence
The way a man on his death bed is counting his mistake,
But one of us has to stay behind and keep on fighting.

There’s this one way road, and knowing what has to be done
Isn’t as easy as it is obvious. Who would’ve thought
I was really so unique it would accept no other soul?
There is really no other choice.
And perhaps I would give away the world,
But it would mean giving you with it and that just won’t happen.
After all, what is this one body to your heart –
What’s a little hurt to your living?

“Your place is with me,” Jem said. “It always will be.”
“What do you mean?”
He flushed, the color dark against his pale skin. “I mean,” he said, “Tessa Gray, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Tessa sat bolt upright. “Jem!”
They stared at each other for a moment. At last he said, trying for lightness, though his voice cracked. “That was not a no, I suppose, though neither was it a yes.”
“You can’t mean it.”
“I do mean it.”
“You can’t-I’m not a Shadowhunter. They’ll expel you from the Clave-”
He took a step closer to her, his eyes eager. “You may not be precisely a Shadowhunter. But you are not a mundane either, nor probably a Downworlder. Your situation is unique, so I do not know what the Clave will do. But they cannot forbid something that is not forbidden by the Law. They will have to take your - our - individual cas into consideration, and that could take months. In the meantime, they cannot prevent our engagement.”
“You are serious.” Her mouth was dry. “Jem, such a kindness on your part is indeed incredible. It does you credit. But I cannot let you sacrifice yourself in that way for me.”
Sacrifice? Tessa, I love you. I want to marry you.”

the best moment in Jurassic World is when Claire and Owen are running away from the I-Rex and Claire’s a few steps behind Owen because she’s running through the fucking jungle in high heels so he stops and hold his arm out like “hold my hand, I’ll keep you safe,” and she just sprints straight past him like “I’ve got no time for you, I can take care of myself and I’ve also got to take care of my dumbass nephews, so please do me a favour and KEEP THE FUCK UP.”


Summary: Phil goes to a coffee shop and the cute barista there keeps on finding new ways to misspell his name.

Word count: 1700

A/N: Written for a prompt submitted to phanfic by foxylester, ach I feel like this isn’t what you were looking for and the writing style is kinda all over the place but I hope you enjoy!

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anonymous asked:

All this talk of season four olicity goodness and all I can think is: remember that little step forward from SA and step back with "nuh-uh" from EBR? That felt so (dreadfully) right, but that chemistry in happier moments? We got gold here, boysngirls

You mean this beautiful gem:

And this small moment here (just because):

Oh yes.

It wasn’t the words that were said in this scene (although they did slice through me like a rusted knife, especially with their delivery), but it was these moments. EBR backing up when Amell made the move to go to her, feeling like if he could just touch her, it would be okay… and her backing away, knowing exactly what he’s trying to do, and not dealing with it. And then the look on his face, the way his lips part like he wants to say something - anything - but it doesn’t come up because he’s made his decision, and he has to stick to it.

The tears in  his eyes, the heartbreak…

Amell and EBR are definitely gold, ya’ll, and I feel so lucky that they make my OTP.

I get really jittery with excitement thinking about the beauty they’ll bring for us in Season 4, from the happy, snuggly, adorable moments to the sad, emotionally heavy moments…


anonymous asked:

Summer festival dates with GOM and Captain Skittles *^*

Kuroko: Walking around the summer festival with Kuroko, the two of you were often complimented on your matching style of yukata. The gushing praises and sweet words of your boyfriend and strangers alike had you blushing badly by the end of the night. It especially didn’t help that he had an arm wrapped around you the entire time, making sure you wouldn’t fall from wearing your geta out on the unevenly paved streets.

Kise: The most exciting part of the festival for Kise was the fact that he could easily get lost in the crowd and escape the fans that often tagged along on his outside excursions. Of course, he’d have his hand firmly gripped onto yours to make sure you’d stay with him every step of the way. Finding a moment or two of seclusion for the two of you, he wouldn’t hesitate to treat you to any food you wanted while the two of you patiently waited for your favorite part of summer: the fireworks.

Aomine: Most of your night would be spent playing games with Aomine at the festival, watching as he tried—and failed—to catch small goldfish with a paper net over and over again. Eventually, he’d grow frustrated with your amused chortling, challenging you try instead. When you only managed to fail just as hard as he did, the two of you would move on to the next game, finding similar results wherever you went. The games were definitely rigged, but you two still had fun together.

Midorima: One of the reasons you had wanted to take Midorima to the annual summer festival was because of the masks they often sold at the same booth. You’d bought him something cute: a bright green, frog mask that matched the face of the frog puppet he used to carry around. Of course, he refused to wear it at first, not wanting to look ridiculously childish, but once you’d told him you would wear a matching rabbit mask, he’d reluctantly place it on the top of his head.

Murasakibara: Summer festivals were all about the great snacks the two of you could find. Whether it be takoyaki, ikayaki, taiyaki, or karaage, Murasakibara always had one of his favorite treats in hand and the other stuffed into his mouth. He’d be a nice date, bringing enough money to feed the both of you—where he ever got that much, you’d never know—and by the end of the night, after indulging yourselves on grilled foods, you’d settle both your stomachs with some cool kakigori.

Akashi: Nobody had noticed how the two of you had snuck away from your group of friends at the festival, finding your own secluded spot to celebrate the coming of summer. It was something special that the two of you had found and it was something you wished would last forever. Sitting on the side of a grassy hill—the same one where multiple families would soon watch the fireworks together—you watched as small fireflies danced around Akashi’s figure, as if they too were awed by his being.

Nijimura: You would call the summer festival date he had brought you on a success. Nijimura had been the definition of a gentleman, playing games with you, treating you to snacks, and overall having a great time. Now, as the two of you sat side by side watching the firework display in the sky, you couldn’t help but give a few side-glances his way, watching as the different colors illuminated his face. The only way the night could get more perfect was with a well-timed kiss under the stars.

trying to wake Jungkook up that at the fifth attempt (the first with nudging his shoulder, the second with shaking the life out of him, the third with a slap on his stomach, the fourth with squishing his cheeks together that he looks like a pufferfish): yanking the blanket down that you give up, telling him that he can jolly well spend the day alone and before you’re able to take a step away from the bed, he latches a hand to your wrist and within three seconds, you find yourself in the sheets with his legs tangled with yours, his arms banding around your figure and his face finds purchase of your neck before he mumbles something between the lines of five more minutes… and fuck Jeon Jungkook for having that raspy voice in the early morning that leaves you to seep into the moments of being late for a date that was predicted to be postponed anyway.

title: first kiss
pair: oliver/nessa
notes: this may or may not be their actual first kiss iw as just bored af today at work lmao




The last person Nessa expects to see outside her sitting room door when she answers it is Duke Messer, sleeves rolled up, hair a disheveled mess. It takes a moment for her to find her voice, to shift her mind from her birthday itinerary to the gorgeous disaster outside, hands in his pockets.

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anonymous asked:

“I just want this.” Captain swan

I just want this/Do you ever think we should just stop this? (2-for-1!)

A/N: This one wrote itself every time I did not have access to a writing implement yesterday, and then it would fight with me when I would sit down to actually get it going. So it’s a little rough a tumbled. Thanks for requesting this one, anon!! 

The bathroom mirror fogs due to the hot water from Killian’s shower, and Emma takes a moment to wipe some of it clear with her hand before attempting to fix the mess that is her hair. The shower was supposed to do that, after it was tangled from his hands, and her own as he fucked her into the mattress. It’s not that she’s complaining because, come on. But the shower didn’t help because she had no sooner stepped under the spray when he walked in to grab his toothbrush, and she was dragging him in with her.

Now her hair is not only tangled, it is tangled and wet. Killian starts whistling as he finishes up and Emma takes a moment to glare at the reflection of the shower. It is at least partially his fault, after all. Her gaze softens just as quickly, and she turns her attentions to managing her hair while she straightens out her thoughts.

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Dominant - Calum Hood Smut

Anon: “Can you write a smut where Calum is all dom and punishes u and it has a lot of dirty talk omfg pls?” 

“You’re serious, Calum?” I cried out. “You think you can take your shitty, repulsive bad mood out on me because you had a rough day?” 

Clothes were thrown on the floor, Calum’s records scattered everywhere. I knew from the moment Calum walked through the front door, slamming it, that he was in a god damn awful mood. And when he got angry, he got angry.

“Shut the fuck up!” Calum roared, slamming his hands onto the wall, moving his body closer in front of mine. He stepped forward again, my back hitting the wall, jarring the breath out of me. The heat of my boyfriend’s body pressed into mine in sharp contrast to the cool wall behind me. His quiffed hair fell on his forehead, and I resisted the urge to run my hands through it, fixing his hair. Calum sensed me tensing up.

“Do you get scared when I’m angry?” he questioned.

“No, Calum.” A stubborn streak flared in me, smirking. I stared into his eyes and he gazed at my lips. Confidently, he kissed me with his plump lips as I wrapped my arms around his neck, his hard body pressing against me. Emphasis on hard as he ground his growing erection against my heat. Calum cupped one of my breasts, and rubbed his fingers over one of my nipples. I writhed under his touch, but he moved quicker than I did, and he grabbed my wrist, his cock pressed against my abdomen. 

He nuzzled my neck, and in response I tilted my head and he brushed his lips against the sensitive spot just below my ear, sighing. 

“I’m going to leave hickeys all over you beautiful skin.” he spoke through gritted teeth. “Show everyone you’re mine.” He nipped my neck, catching the flesh between his teeth and flicking his tongue against it as I gasped. 

“Tonight, you’re going to call me Sir.” he ordered. “Have you ever knelt for another boy? Followed his orders? Have your orgasms controlled?” I gulped, a nervousness erupting inside of me. 

“No!” I spoke. Calum tangled his hand in my hair, yanking slightly as it forced my head back.

“No fucking what, Y/N?” he roared. 

“No, no Sir.” I replied, as he seemed satisfied I had learnt of my mistake. Calum suddenly grabbed me by the back of my thighs, lifting me. He carried me to the bed and threw me down as he straddled my waist. I was fully aware of his hard cock pressing into my leg. He held me with a strong hand on my waist.

“Do you trust me?” he asked. 

“Y-yes” I breathed shakily. “I trust you Sir.” 

“You have no fucking idea how much you calling me that turns me on.” he breathed. “Stand up now.”

Once I was on my feet, Calum gestured to the clothes I was wearing. 

“Strip for me, do it fucking quickly!” he ordered. Keeping my eyes on his, I stripped to my underwear, stopping when I was left in just my black bra and matching thong. “Did I tell you to stop?!” His voice low, with an edge of command. My cheeks blushed as I unhooked my bra, letting it slide down my arms and to the floor. 

“I love your big round tits.” he complemented. “Now take off your thong!” I pulled my thong off slowly, wet with arousal. 

“Good girl.” Calum cooed. “On your knees, you’re going to suck my fat cock.” 

Sinking to my knees, I pushed my boobs out as he groaned. Calum tilted my chin up. “Staring at it won’t fucking get it sucked will it?” he barked. “Get on with it!” I took the tip of Calum’s cock, sucking around it as I played with his balls. I pushed my mouth down onto his length, bobbing my head up and down - the overwhelming feeling of my wetness too much to handle. 

As I worked on Calum, I slipped my hand down between my thighs, gently touching myself as I moaned around his cock. Abruptly, he pulled his cock out of my mouth.

“Are you fucking touching yourself?” he fumed. “You dirty little slut. Bend over the bed right now.” As I leant over the bed, he stepped behind me, running his hands over my cheeks, ignoring where I needed him the most. I practically ached for him to touch me there. Calum paused for a second and then slapped my ass hard - louder than it was painful. His second slap was of a shock. He started to vary his strikes between my left and right cheeks, building the intensity and speed. My pussy pulsed and I needed him to slide his thick cock into me. He finished with a harsh slap before squeezing and massaging my cheeks, rubbing away the pain as I muffled my moans into the duvet.

Calum stood me up and threw me down onto the bed, so I was on my back. Swiftly, he took a blindfold from the drawer and tied it tight around my eyes so I saw pitch black. 

“Sir..” I panted.

“Have you got something to fucking say?” he asked, as I quickly shook my head. I heard the creek of the bed as Calum kneeled on it. He slipped a hand around my neck, squeezing as he then ran his hands down from my tits to my knees. “Spread your thighs. Let me see that pretty pink pussy.” 

I spread my legs and Calum slid his hand down to my soaked folds, cupping me lightly. He ran two fingers over my pussy, collecting my juices as I shuddered. 

“You like that?” he whispered, his voice low and sexy. 

“Please Sir.” I begged. Calum teased my pussy, his fingers finding my clit. He dipped another finger into me as I cried out. 

“What do you want, huh baby? Do you want me to take my throbbing, hard cock and slide it deep in you? You’d love that wouldn’t you? You naughty fucking slut!” he exclaimed. I gasped as his fingers picked up pace inside me. “You’re so wet!”

I whimpered. “You’re desperate for me to take you.” he stated. 

“Yes!” I replied, my breathing heavy.

“Yes? Yes what?” he asked, his fingers finding a rhythm.

“Yes Sir!” I cried out. “I want your thick cock pounding into my tight fucking pussy!” 

With a low chuckle, he untied the blindfold, and I propped myself up, my fingers touching his hard, red length. 

“Fuck! Did I say you could touch my cock?” he quizzed. My body shook in arousal, close to my orgasm. Calum pulled his fingers out, slapping my pussy. “You won’t cum till I’m inside you!” 

Shaking with need, I moaned out loud as Calum pressed his cock against my entrance, rubbing over my clit. I cried out as he gripped my hips, his fat cock thrusting into me. I wrapped my arms around his neck, biting into his shoulder as he pounded into my tight pussy. 

“You feel so tight around my cock. So, so good!” he moaned, his dick jerking inside me. “Who do you fucking belong to?”

“You, Sir. Only you, oh fuck.” I moaned out. Calum flipped us over so I was straddling him. “Make yourself fucking cum.” I began to rise and fall on his cock, my tits bouncing in his face as he took a nipple to his mouth, sucking harshly, with more purpose. I slid faster up and down Calum’s cock as he thrusted up into me, slipping a finger to press at my clit. 

With my nails digging into his shoulders, I cried out as I came, shuddering as my pussy squeezed Calum’s cock. He was still deep inside me, pounding as he shakily moaned my name.

“Fuck Y/N, fuck!” he screamed. Hot spurts of his cum entered me as his orgasm subsided. Calum pulled out of me, and pulled me onto his lap as I leaned against his toned chest, quivering from my orgasm. 

He gently kissed my lips as he stroked my cheek. 

“You were amazing, babe. I really needed that.”

“Maybe you should come home more angry.” I stated. “It was really hot.”

anonymous asked:

Cullen reuniting with his love after being separated for a while

Cullen flung himself down the stairs of skyhold. He tugged at his mantle, struggling to get the coat in place as he ran–or rather, half-tripped–across the courtyard to the creaking portcullis. He shifted from foot to foot, trying to keep the hammering of his heart in check as he waited for the gate to raise. 

Kaitlyn stood on the other side, grinning broadly, bouncing openly on the balls of her feet. The gateway was almost to her hips when she ducked beneath the metal, her skin appearing translucent for a moment as she fade-stepped towards him. She all but crashed against his armor, her arms tossed around his shoulders as she kissed him. 

Cullen laughed against her lips, holding her tight against his chest. Her legs lifted off the ground and he spun her in the courtyard, one arm supporting her weight as the other cupped her cheek. 

Moments of desperate kisses, short breaths, and clinging arms passed before Kaitlyn’s feet hit the ground again. Her cheeks had darkened with her blush. “Maker, but I missed you.” She gripped his mantle, keeping him close as she rested her forehead against his own. 

“Are you staying a while this time?” He tried to keep the yearning out of his voice. Tried and failed. 

“Yes,” she said with a grin and another kiss. “A long while.” 

in the front seat [alpha!luke / heat]


classifiedluke this is dedicated to you lmao

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Wow,” Harry breathes out, more air than sound, more overwhelmed than surprised as Niall steps out of the bathroom in nothing but the towel that is wrapped around his hips. It should be embarrassing, how he’s still so unwaveringly smitten with the man he gets to call his own; should make him uncomfortable just how flustered he gets as soon as they step over the boundaries and enter intimate moments like this one.

Niall looks over at the bed, at Harry who’s supporting himself with shaky arms so that he won’t lose his balance and fall back on the mattress. He looks confused more than anything, unsure of what Harry has gone breathless over as if he has no idea of what his naked torso can do to a man. As if he’s completely unaware of the depths of Harry’s desire for him, even after all this time.

The air is thick when Harry tries to breathe it in, sticking in his throat until he has to gasp to get it down to his lungs, his face contorting in confusion as Niall’s lips stretch out in a smile, fondness almost seeping out of him as if he finds Harry’s oddities endearing. He’s by the bed in a heartbeat, loosening the towel and letting it slip to the floor before he crawls his way up over Harry, bracketing bare legs and trailing fingers under a grey t-shirt before he follows with his nose, dipping it in Harry’s navel and kissing the faint trail of hair underneath it softly.

Harry thinks his lungs must sit down there, now. Nestled somewhere right under his abs where they’re shrinking more and more with every second that passes with Niall’s lips pressed to the skin that covers them, leaving him panting already.

It’s an entrancing threesome; Niall’s fingers, lips and stubble – that damn stubble that has gotten sinful over the span of a few months, coarse hair finally growing evenly, enhancing Niall’s features beautifully even as they’re pressed against Harry’s skin. There’s fingers pressing into his sides, lips mouthing around a nipple and stubble scratching him into a haze of oblivion, making him lose touch with everything that’s not Niall. He doesn’t mind, though – doesn’t think there’s anything else worth feeling.