from the mouths of middle schoolers

anonymous asked:

Alpha Kirishima showing affection to his Female Omega. She returns the affection without hesitation. Someone tells to get room. Scenario

This is really short but, god Alpha!Kirishima with his Omega s/o has me so weak. I love it so much. Sweet, fumbling and blushy Alpha tries his hardest. ;) 

Anyway, Kiri is my fav, so don’t hesitate to request him!!

Warning: Is it hot in here, or is it just me?


“Ei.. Stop it..” You giggled, Kirishima’s hair tickling you as he kissed your neck, knee nudged between your legs as he trailed his sharp teeth lightly against your skin, his hot breath fanning over the juncture of your neck. Shivers dance up your spine as the scent of your Alpha showing his affection fills your nose.

His hands had yours pinned (gently) against the wall, humming into your hair as he scented you. God, you always smelled so good.

“Who’s your Alpha, (Y/N)?” He whispered softly against your ear, eyes lidded as he asked, mostly for reassuring himself that you are his. He wasn’t gonna let you go to some other Alpha.

“You are, Eijiro-kun.” You whispered breathlessly, head tilting back as his knee rose lightly, rutting against you. Kirishima wanted to keep up his dominant façade, but he couldn’t help but flush at your words. You are his and he is yours. It made his stomach flutter.

“And you’re my Omega, and I love you dearly, (Y/N)-chan.” He pulled back, looking you in the eyes. He shifted so both of your wrists were in one of his hands (gently, once again. You could escape if you truly wanted to.), the fingers of his free hand trailing along your jaw. You were beautiful.

Kirishima couldn’t help the small smile fall on his lips, as he admired you. What did he do to deserve you? He swore to himself he would protect you with everything he had- no. He would swear it to your face. But as he opened his mouth to say what he wanted to say, you had already lunged forward to steal a kiss from his lips.

He blinked in surprise, before he flushed again, stuttering.

“W-What was that for?”

“Because I love you too, Ei-chan.”

Your cuteness was going to kill him.

Before he could return the kiss however, he could hear three particular boys snickering from the corner of the hallway.

“Kirishima! Get a room you filthy dog! I can smell you from here!” His head snapped over to see Kaminari, Sero laughing like middle-schoolers and a Bakugo, grumbling something like ‘fucking gross’, before they all carried on down the hallway.

Kirishima let go of your hands to cover the dark blush on his face with his forearm, while you giggled in the background.

“Sh-Shut up you guys!”

anonymous asked:

Takashi gets into some kind of trouble and shibata finds himself a part of the natsume protection squad (which he didn't know existed, but he's all for it). Takashi is oblivious.

this got heavier than i anticipated

x

Katsumi can count on both hands the number of actual, physical fights he’s been in, and still have several fingers left over. He was a bully growing up, and maybe he still is one a little bit, but he would sooner use words to hurt than fists. He’s always held himself just above sinking to that low, that ‘stupid, belligerent guy’ low. Smart people aren’t into stupid guys, after all, and Katsumi likes dating smart people. 

But today, as the shadows stretch across the ground and the skyline burns dark orange in the dusk, the knuckles on his right hand are bruised. There’s blood in his mouth, dripping from a split lip. 

Today, he threw the first punch. And the second, and the third. Outnumbered, and angry enough not to care, seething with it to the point that no words were heavy enough to hurt the way he wanted those strangers to hurt. 

His fingers are folded tight around Natsume’s and he refuses to let go, even when Natsume’s friends catch up, and the odds go from three on two to three on six. Even when Tanuma and Kitamoto and fearless Taki move into the middle of the conflict and refuse to give ground, diffusing the tension with steely eyes and steadfast voices until those unfamiliar high schoolers turn around and leave. 

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today I was standing beneath some stairs and a middle schooler leaned over the railing and asked me “how are you” so I was like “good, you?” and he just opened his mouth and let a giant wad of spit fall from his lips onto the ground and he looked at me with wild excitement in his eyes and went “THATS how good I’m feeling” and then he gave me a fist bump and anyway this is why I hate children

anonymous asked:

Omg I didn't know I needed this, but I NEED IT!! “i thought you hated me but i just accidentally sent you a booty text and you accepted and i am seriously considering it” au

this is rated M for Mature 


Bellamy’s first mistake was not deleting Clarke’s number from his phone. That was what Miller told him to do, and he knew Miller was right, but there was just something so final about deleting her phone number. And then if she ever got in touch with him, he wouldn’t even know about it.

His second mistake was, therefore, letting Miller change Clarke’s name in his phone from Clarke to DO NOT CALL THIS NUMBER, which was a good idea in theory, but hasn’t really helped in a lot of ways. He’s never been tempted to call Clarke, has always known that was a shitty idea, so when he sees the number, all it does is remind him that he wishes he could call her, and that he hadn’t fucked it up so badly.

The third mistake is deciding to text Echo to see if she wants to hook up, because, really, he doesn’t want to hook up with her again, he’s just kind of drunk and kind of mopey and in the mood to make some bad life choices. He’s not even really expecting Echo to take him up on it, but her shooting him down seems like the perfect ending to his mope fest of a night.

Which makes his fourth mistake not checking that he’s sending the message to the right person. It’s just that DO NOT CALL THIS NUMBER and Echo happen to be right next to each other alphabetically, and when he’s scrolling through only half paying attention while he plays video games, well. It’s a mistake anyone could make.

And he probably wouldn’t even have known he made it, if she didn’t text back.

Me: Hey, you busy right now?
Want to come over?

DO NOT CALL THIS NUMBER: Are you booty-texting me?

He nearly drops the phone, staring in shock and horror at the notification as it lights up his display. There’s no good response to her question, of course; he can’t tell his ex-(semi)girlfriend, whom he’s still not over, that he sent her a booty-text meant for another girl. He could try to say he just wants to talk, or something equally inane, but he doesn’t really think she’d buy it.

And then she adds, Because honestly, I really need to get laid.

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soulmate au - part 2

All Might noticed the bandage right away. 

Izuku remembers blushing and stammering and explaining that it was- was something he wasn’t quite ready to deal with. A soulmate was an enormous responsibility. Izuku said he wasn’t ready for that- he had so much else he wanted to do.

He got a bit of a strange look at that, like All Might felt a bit sorry for him or maybe was reconsidering things, but ultimately, nothing changed. Izuku trained and trained and trained and trained until, at last, on the day of the exam, he got the gift of All Might’s quirk given to him.

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the signs as a day in the life with a mildly shit career
  • Aries: gym teacher: has to call principal down again after two kids sneak back into the locker room to eat granola bars
  • Taurus: school janitor: boots a lil soggy from yesterday’s bathroom overflow after finding sticky hand in toilet, knows which kids bring twinkies to school and uses keys to take them from their lockers
  • Gemini: flight attendant: heel snaps off in the middle of the pacific ocean, still has to serve apple juice
  • Cancer: taxi driver: drives antsy couple to motel room, hears moaning in backseat while stuck in rush hour traffic, has to clean residue off imitation leather seats
  • Leo: fireman: small tear in bottom of uniform, gets rump burned while saving beloved family dog from burning home, coworkers tease by singing chorus of uptown funk
  • Virgo: lumberjack: not enough flannel, favorite flannel is getting lint balls, flannel they can find have is never in the right shade of burgundy
  • Libra: plumber: new mustache wax still wont keep everything in place, unrealistic expectations from watching too much porn, wonders why they haven’t gotten fucked yet
  • Scorpio: prison guard: inmate attempts to re-enact scene in the green mile, small black flies actually come out of their mouth and into yours
  • Sagittarius: bartender: keeps getting hit on by gross drunk men, “i have a boyfriend” is much more effective than “i’m not interested”, learns earth is a piece of shit, becomes raging feminist, the writers of this post are very proud
  • Capricorn: termite exterminator: thug middle schoolers down the street make fun of orkin uniform, taunted with ethnic slurs, unable to defend self because of potential lawsuit for child harassment, insects run up pant leg
  • Aquarius: door-to-door vacuum salesman: hopes are lifted when nice elderly woman invites them in, runs out screaming when they find a body in the bathroom, tells this story at parties
  • Pisces: TV repair person: a muffled scream and a light burning scent from behind the television stand as Pisces accidentally gets electrocuted again after drifting into a daydream about being a Hollywood star

dancing-lawn  asked:

5 - lucaya!

5. things you didn’t say at all

Maya was exhausted after the last of her classes for the week, so she decided to stop at Topanga’s before heading back to her shitty apartment that’s rent was way too high to have a broken shower and missing floorboards. It had been a while since she stopped by her old work place since she had started attending a few classes at NYU and moved across the city. When she entered the familiar shop she took a deep breath was flooded with nostalgia. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and pastries brought her back to her youth when her friends would sit around the couches and think they ruled the world. Her heart sunk a bit at the thought of her friends, for it had been a long time since she had seen them. Zay was in Europe, backpacking for his second gap year and Farkle was at Harvard, busy coming up with the cure to cancer or something. Riley was at Yale and didn’t answer Maya’s texts as often any more, but she was probably just busy. And Lucas. He had gone back to Texas for vet school leaving Maya feeling alone in the city full of strangers. She missed them all, but something about the way Lucas left things had a bitter taste in her mouth.

**
It had been the night of graduation that things changed. They were all on Riley’s rooftop buzzed on white wine and the thought of the rest of their lives, laughing at themselves and the world because they were young and naive. Each of them sat with their feet over the edge, staring at the lights of their city with buzzing minds and blurred ideas of where they wanted to be. It was Zay who brought it up first, telling them he would send a post card from each city he traveled through. Riley insisted that they would have to group video chat at least once a week before Farkle reasoned that maybe once a month was more realistic. They hadn’t even left her yet and already Maya’s friends seemed too far away. Lucas reached for her hand that laid in her lap and gave her a reassuring smile.

“It’s the five of us forever,” Riley hummed from her other side. And silly Maya had believed her.

The summer came and went with each of her friends disappearing for their orientations and all of the other college things she didn’t know even existed. Her mom insisted that a gap year was normal, and Zay was taking one as well. Something told Maya that this wasn’t what she wanted, but she didn’t have the funds to attend school even part time yet. The Matthews had offered to help her out, but Maya could only bring herself to rely on them so much. She knew that eventually she had to grow up, and what better time than now? Sure, a job Topanga’s was still technically getting help from them, but at least if she worked she knew she would be earning their assistance. August came and it was time for everyone to leave for real this time. Each goodbye seemed harder than the last as the number of them there to say it dwindled.

As it turned out, Lucas was the last to leave New York. The day for his departure came and Maya made sure that she would be at work so that she didn’t need to watch the last of her best friends leave her behind. She hadn’t told him that she wouldn’t be there to see him off, so when her phone buzzed violently in her pocket she ignored it and carried on with her day. When the time that his plane would be departing past, she didn’t feel the relief she had expected to and she couldn’t understand why. Why had saying goodbye to Lucas seemed harder than saying goodbye to Riley? Riley was her person, her better half, and yet only a few tears were shed when she drove away with a full car and sad smile on her face. Maya shook it off as believing that she knew Riley would always come back to her. Lucas, on the other hand, she wasn’t so sure of.

Maya was taking the order of some middle schoolers that reminded her too much of her and her friends when she heard her name being called furiously from across the bakery. She turned in confusion and was met with the sight of a very angry Lucas storming towards her. Her mouth dropped open and she couldn’t even formulate a coherent sentence. Something that sounded a lot like “You’re gone’” escaped her lips softly, but she couldn’t hear it over the blood pulsing in her ears.

“What kind of a best friend are you if you don’t even show up to say goodbye to me?” He boomed as he finally made it to her table. “You didn’t even bother calling me to tell me you weren’t coming, and then you couldn’t even answer my calls!”

“I’m working,” she said softly, refusing to meet his eyes. This all felt too real and she had tried to avoid this for a reason. “You are supposed to be on a plane, Lucas.”

He scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest in the way that he only did when he was furious so that he wouldn’t react as quickly. “Yeah, I am. But my bitch of a best friend didn’t show up to say goodbye so I couldn’t get on it. You promised you would be there, Maya.”

She bit the inside of her lip to try to stop the tears that were flooding to her eyes. Why was this so hard for her? Why couldn’t she just say goodbye to him like she had the other three? “I changed my mind.”

He grabbed her shoulders a lot rougher than he normally would. “Look at me, dammit! You are being so selfish! I waited for you at the airport and called you twenty seven times, but you are too busy feeling sorry for yourself to even answer your goddamn phone! We have been through everything together for the last six years and you can’t even answer your fucking phone! I needed you there Maya, and you just- you left me there.”

She flinched and looked up at him. His actions and tone were angry, but his eyes told another story. He was hurt. She had hurt him. He wanted her to be there for him to wish him luck, but she was too busy fretting over not seeing him again to care. She really was being selfish, but not in the way he thought she was. She had to bite her tongue to stop herself from begging him to stay, from telling him everything she felt about him that she had never admitted to him before. She had to stop being so selfish and let him go already. “You need to leave, Lucas.”

He released his grip on her as if her words had burned him and she felt her heart physically ache. He took a step back and the hurt in his eyes grew more evident. She flinched ever so slightly, but this was for his own good. She couldn’t ask him to stay for her. He looked at her in disgust and she couldn’t help the tears that ran down her cheek.

“Fine. Have a nice life, Maya.”

**

She had not stepped foot in this bakery since that day, but here she was two years later with the same pain in her heart that she felt that August. She ordered her usual coffee from a high schooler who had taken her place after she left and gave her the change. When she backed away from the counter with her coffee, she laughed at herself. She was so exhausted and flooded with nostalgia that she thought she saw a brown haired boy with sea foam eyes sitting on their old couches reading a newspaper. She shook her head and tried to blink him away, but instead of disappearing he turned around and caught her gaze.

“Hey, Penelope.”

Game of Love. (Adam Imagine)

Request: I’d like to request the reader and Adam going to an arcade and girls hitting on Adam the whole way through and making the reader feel bad since she looks like a geek with glasses (Despite being a strong hunter she has low self esteem and is pretty tomboyish)

A/N: I’m so sorry if this sucks. I have a feeling it does…

“I’m telling you, no one can beat me at this game. I’m the king.”

"Adam,” you smirked and crossed your arms, giving your best friend a once over as he toward over one of the many arcade games he was about to play, “It’s Pac-Man. I think the reason no one can beat you is because no one plays.

"Jealous much?” Adam leaned over so that he was close to you, “Y/N, I can always teach you. It would be fun, you know,” He smirked, blue eyes sparkling, “to teach you.”

You ducked your head as a harsh blush crept on your cheeks. Adam was a natural flirt, and you were used to it, but lately it had a stronger effect on you than usual. It started back when the two of you were on a hunt together. As always, you were doing just fine on your own after splitting up, kicking ass was never an obstacle. But when one demon too many surrounded and began to torture you, it was Adam to the rescue. You didn’t know if it was the heroic aspect of it all or if it was just for the fact that he held you that night after you were too scared to sleep alone, but it went downhill from there. Looking him in the eye was enough to make you dizzy and you had no clue yet if you loved it or hated it.

“Earth to Y/N.”

“Huh?”

Adam chuckled as you looked back up at him, “I asked if you wanted to play.”

“Oh, uhm,” You pushed your glasses that slipped to the bridge of your nose back up with your finger, “You go ahead first. I’ll watch and try to measure up to your awesomeness.”

“You bet your ass you will.” He winked and sat down on the chair, beginning to play. Not surprisingly, he was right about being good at this game. It was as if he could even master it in his sleep and all you could do was stand back with a baffled grin on your face.

“Wow." You and Adam both turned around and slightly jumped, noticing a girl your age standing behind you, "You’re pretty good at that.” She smiled a perfect smile and smoothed out the form fitting dress that displayed her curves, “Im Marylin.”

“Adam.” He responded, giving her a once over with his eyes then turning to you, “And this is Y/N.”

You self consciously looked down at your outfit, jeans and a tank-top, before turning your attention back to miss beauty, “Hi.”

“Do you come here often?” She ignored, batting her eyes towards Adam, “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

Adam smirked, “Haven’t seen you around either, and I think I would have remembered that.”

She visibly blushed and allowed her eyes to catch yours, “So are you two together?”

“No.” You said too quickly, feeling your heart drop from the truth, “No, we’re just friends.”

Adams eyes lingered on you for a while before he finally peeled them away, “She’s my best friend.”

Marylin flashed another smile, “That makes much more sense.”

He furrowed his brows together and dropped his smile, “What makes sense?”

“Well,” she bit her lip and stepped forward, running her hand along his arm, “It’s just that you’re really cute.”

You felt your entire body shut down at the indication of her words, but she was right. Wasn’t she? All you were was a hunter, who wore no make up, and whose outfit of choice was a hoodie and jeans. And then there was Adam.

"I’m flattered.” He replied dryly, interrupting your thoughts, “But I think Y/N is just as ‘cute’ as I am, if not cuter.”

“That’s not what I-”

“Then what did you mean?” He was standing next to you now, but you were too enhanced with what he had just said to notice, “Please, explain.”

“I-I…Sorry. I should just go.”

“I think you should.”

Marylins face was pale white as she scurried away, leaving you and Adam alone.

“Thanks for that.” You whispered, unable to bring your eyes to his, “You didn’t have to.”

“No. I did have to. But do you want to know the worst part about what she said was?”

Instead of answering, you shifted lightly and waited for him to continue.

“You believed her.”

Your head shot up, “How did you-”

“We’ve been best friends for two years.” He sighed heavily, “I know the ins and outs of your insecurities. And quite frankly, they never make sense to me.”

“You wouldn’t understand, Adam.” Slight anger arose in your body when you looked at him, “You’re…”

“I’m what?”

“You’re perfect. Handsome, sweet, brave..every girls dream. But me? Hell, I can’t even get a second glance from a middle schooler.”

“Wow.” He breathed and shook his head, “You really are cluless, aren’t you?”

“I guess we can add that to the list.”

He ignored you, running a hand through his blonde hair, “Y/N, I…I’ve been in love with you for a year now.”

Your mouth dropped slightly, “You love me?”

“I do.” He laughed lightly, “And that means every part of you. You’re beautiful and I wouldn’t trade you for anyone.”

A boost of confidence rose in you as you reached up and cupped his face, bringing him down into a kiss. He ran his hands through your hair while kissing you back and let out a satisfied sigh onto your lips, “You’re perfect.”

You pulled away just enough to look into his eyes, “I love you too, you know.”

“Good to hear.” He giggled, glancing down at your lips, “You’re a good kisser. Just saying.”

You grinned, “I can teach you. I think it would be fun, to teach you.”

His brow lifted, “Do I need to be taught?”

“Not at all. But it’s a good excuse to kiss you whenever I want.”

“You don’t need an excuse for that. But if that’s what it takes, then by all means-”

“Shut-up!” You giggled, pecking him on the lips anyways, “Do you wanna stay here or..”

“Do you have to ask?” Adam smiled and grabbed your hand, “Pac-Man can wait.”

You laughed out loud and followed him out of the arcade with your hand in his, passing Marylin on the way out.

anonymous asked:

can I request for gom+himuro as teachers!? =///= and their favourite student all of a sudden confesses to liking them??

lmfaoooo thanks for the request >w< i hope you enjoy~ 

Himuro notices the letter tucked into the submitted assignment as soon as his student hands it to him, but he maintains a neutral expression aside from a knowing smile. When the blushing student leaves hurriedly, he slips the envelope out from the sheaf of papers and raises his eyebrows every so slightly at the love letter sealed inside. Shaking his head exasperatedly, he tucks the letter into his drawer with a smile, but then he frowns. He was going to have to talk to her about it soon. It couldn’t do for the brightest student in class to be distracted by the teacher

Aomine stares in open-mouthed shock at the middle-schooler that just confessed her love to him. He realizes it is somewhat rude to do so, and snaps his mouth shut again, opting instead to shake his head. Kids these days are crazy enough to crush on gym teachers? He scoffs internally. Are the boys their age really so damn hopeless? He sighs exasperatedly, deciding that he had to give some response to the poor girl. 

“Yeah, thanks, kid, but you do realize I’m a teacher, don’t you?” 

Kise’s eyes widen in surprise and the canvas he had been holding nearly drops from in between his fingers. He stares for one second longer at his favorite student, but then he pouts handsomely and returns back to studying the canvas in an uncharacteristic moment of silence. After a second, his frown deepens. 

“T-That’s so unfair, you know? All my students are really cute and adorable and I don’t ever want to hurt their feelings but I can’t date you guys, you know?” 

Midorima gapes at his student in shock, a dark flush creeping onto his cheeks. A second later, he recovers and shakes his head in disbelief, turning back to assembling the sheaf of biology papers on his desk. “T-That is foolish, nanodayo.” He says abruptly and quietly. “You are a brilliant student and you should understand that having feelings - much less for a teacher - would only prove to be a massive distraction in the path you may otherwise be able to clearly trek to success. I-I-I apologize but I must ask you to reconsider your words. You have disappointed me, nanodayo.”

After the poor student leaves, Midorima droops his head low until his forehead is touching his desk, and starts grumbling angrily into the wood. “…Teenage hormonal imbalances… What utter nonsense… Fools everywhere… Can’t trust anyone, nanodayo…” Despite his rumblings, it is easy to tell that he is flattered because he puffs out his chest importantly and tries to look impassive when he relays the story to Takao later that day. 

Murasakibara blinks slowly at the student standing in front of him with the bag of candy in incomprehension. He doesn’t even show up to class half the time - how on earth did this kid end up having feelings for him? He doesn’t really mull over the words, and instead his purple eyes are trained hungrily on the bag of snacks in the girl’s hands. Finally making a decision, he scoops the bag out of her arms neatly and immediately unwraps the first pocky packet he could touch. His words are blunt and straightforward, much to the poor student’s horror. 

“Nn… thanks for the snacks, [Name]-chin… but you’re just a baby compared to me… it’s weird that you like me…” 

Akashi listens to the student’s love confession with a neutral expression, eyes lowered in a fond father-like gaze even if his lips are pressed in a tight line. After the student is done, he strictly reminds her of her duties and rules as a teacher, but smiles slightly in amusement as soon as the student turns her back on him. 

“You are a brilliant student, [Name]. I suggest that you attempt to forget this encounter and focus on your studies instead. I would be disappointed if you were to fail because of a measly crush; I have high hopes for you, after all.”

Kuroko rushes around the room from one corner to the other, assisting his beloved students with their work. Perhaps in frustration, one of his youngest students begin to wail in a high whine, to which he abandons everything else and dutifully scoots over to tuck his hands underneath her arms and lift her into the air until she is resting on his arm. “It will be okay, [Name]-san,” he coos gently, “I will help you with your work. We will do it together, alright?” 

The kindergartener sniffles for only a second longer before a wide grin breaks onto her face, and she throws her arms around Kuroko’s neck in happy surprise. “Yay! Kuroko-sensei is the best! I love you, Kuroko-sensei!” 

Kuroko gives a small smile, but his eyes are beaming with happiness. He is obviously very skilled at his job, because all the students gaze at him affectionately. “That is sweet of you, [Name]-san.” 

“I want to marry you, Kuroko-sensei!” 

His smile widens and he sits her back down, patting the top of her head silently before moving onto the next student. 

Tight

by novelistangel23

The heat of lips warming my throat and his hands caressing my hips—it’s so overwhelming, stimulation roaming every inch of my body from his hips between my legs, to his chest pressed to mine, to his mouth curving over my jaw. He smirks when I whimper, and I throw my hands up to his biceps, holding him back from stealing another kiss.
“S-slow down,” I manage, my voice high and airy and nervous.
He freezes and rips himself away from me, sitting up on his knees. “I’m sorry,” he gasps. “Did I go too far, are you okay, I didn’t mean to, I—“
I can’t help but smile at the horror in his eyes. It’s like this every time. Every time our kisses get too heated or his hands roam too far down my back or his hips roll a little too hard into mine—it’s as if he’s committed a heinous crime.
“No,” I whisper. I feel my face flushing with a different kind of heat and my shoulders pull up in embarrassment. “I-I just… I, um…”
He leans over me, not possessively, not aggressively. Curling over me protectively, running his fingers through my bangs—they’ve already lost their usual parting, so I can’t really complain about him messing it up. “You want to stop?” he murmurs.
There are so many people who’d tell you Jean’s eyes are rude and sharp and harsh—they’d tell you he looks like an asshole, and most days I’d be tempted to agree. But right now, his gentle, heavy-lidded gaze makes me want to melt, to curl around him in return and never let him go. Sappy things. Romantic things.
But I already made a decision. I’m not giving into those silly desires this time.
I take a deep breath to prepare myself, flick my gaze away, and then… shake my head.
He seems surprised, a sound of confusion passing his lips. “You… You wanna…”
I can tell he doesn’t know what I want if that’s the case. I never want to go further—I never have before. Not with anyone. It’s nerve-wracking to even think about it, about… about touching someone that way. I’ve read stuff—sometimes, when I’m alone. It feels nice in my stomach, hot and pulsing, but to fall apart, the way it’s always described, to reach the edge and tip over it—terrifying.
But the more I think about it, the more sure I am that if it’s Jean… it’d be okay. If I fell, he’d pick me up; if I fell apart, he’d put me back together.
And we don’t have to do everything at once. We can take it slow. I know he’d be okay with that. He’s never faulted me for being scared, not once.
I’m safe.
“I want to show you…” I bite my lip and wriggle a little under him. He sits up again, freeing me from his embrace so I can move on my own. I pull away from him so I’m sitting on my knees in front of him. “Um, I just… I want you to see…”
He furrows his brows at me, but as realization washes over him, his lips spread into a calming smile. “You want to show me your body?” he asks, softly.
I laugh, but it’s high-pitched, still nervous. “W-when you say it like that, it sounds so cheesy,” I giggle, shrinking back from him a bit.
He shakes his head, still smiling when he pulls my face towards him and kisses me. So soft and warm and gentle… encouraging, assuring me. “You’re the biggest cheese ball on the planet, Marco,” he mumbles against my lips, and I’m laughing again.
I can’t help but feel a little put out—this is supposed to be sexy, sensual, but here I am giggling like it’s a dirty joke and I’m a middle-schooler. He laughs along with me, but his hands are drawing me in closer to his chest, arms encircling my waist. He deepens the kiss, and the laughter subsides, replaced by his breath in my mouth.
I let it linger, the taste of him, but then I pull away and take another deep breath. “I’m gonna take off my shirt,” I announce.
I feel like such a nerd, announcing it like that. But I recover. I lean back from him, and my hands fall to the buttons of my shirt. He goes silent, an intense heat in his gaze as I slowly begin to unbutton myself.
The way my buttons fall open under my clumsy fingers is almost as mesmerizing to myself as it probably is to him. Every freckled patch of skin exposed makes my own breath come a little faster. I can’t tell if I’m nervous or if it’s the thought of Jean seeing me this way that makes my heart start to race, my palms start to sweat.
His hand slides over mine suddenly, when I’m down to my stomach, and I snap my head up to look at him. He smiles at me. “Lay back,” he whispers.
I bite my lip and nod, letting him push me down against the blankets we’ve been curled up in on the floor. He fits himself in between my legs again, and he kisses my neck. My breath practically stops. I bite down on my lip just a bit harder as his kisses begin to travel lower. Down the curve of my throat, the jut of my collarbone. He presses his mouth soft and tender down my sternum and takes over unbuttoning for me as he teases the soft skin of my stomach. I let out a breathless giggle when he dips the tip of his tongue into my bellybutton. It tickles, but at the same time, oh God—how can that feel so good?
I shiver when he whispers for me to sit up a bit. I obey, let him pull my shirt off my shoulders and then down my arms and off my fingertips. He moves back up my body, murmuring praises as he showers my shoulders in kisses. “You’re so beautiful, Marco,” he tells me. “So soft… so pretty,” he murmurs in my ear.
I gasp when his hands find the zipper of my jeans. He freezes and shoots up again. I can hear the hesitation in his voice when he breathes, “Is this okay?”
I stare at him for a moment, already breathing hard, before I reach up into his hair and pull him down to me. Our lips mash together, teeth clacking awkwardly until he chuckles and presses his hands to either side of my face. He makes it softer, warmer, calmer. “It’s okay,” I manage between kisses. “It’s okay, it’s okay—please.”
He groans against my neck as he trails down again, and his hands return to my zipper, carefully tugging it down before he unbuttons me. And then his hands are on my hips, brushing down my thighs and bringing my jeans and my boxers with them, and I feel like I can’t breathe.
I want him, I know I want him, I’m so nervous—what if he doesn’t want me?
He dips down to kiss my stomach again, and I squirm a little under his touches—but when his throat brushes against my sensitive length, I jolt and let out a moan that I’m sure is probably too loud for a touch so insignificant.
He breathes out hot against my stomach. “Marco?” he pants, and his voice sounds so deep, husky—I’m trembling. “Can I… I want to give you something.”
I whimper at him, but he doesn’t move until I answer, until I whisper, “What?”
He looks up at me, and the sharpness in his eyes is back. Intense and heated and longing—lusting. The tip of his tongue flicks out against his lips, and I shiver at the sight. He wants me, he definitely wants me. The thought is as reassuring as it is thrilling.
“Are you okay with… more than… touching?” he murmurs.
I bite my lip hard. I know that he wouldn’t be mad. I know that I shouldn’t feel ashamed if I don’t want to continue. I know I can stop any time I want to—because Jean loves me. So I don’t feel pressured to when I whisper, “Yes.”
He groans, and then his arms shift from over my legs. He sidles down further, until I can feel his hot breath against my erection, and I fight the urge to jerk my hips at him. His hands slide under my thighs, lifting my legs over his shoulders. I didn’t notice that I was sweating, but it feels sticky against his shirt sleeves. I can’t bring myself to care.
His lips trail down further, against my hips, nipping at the skin and making me gasp. And then down further, to suck at the inside of my thigh. The moan I let out at that is definitely too loud, and when I wriggle under him, he grins and moves to a different spot to suck harder. My fingers curl the blanket into them, and my toes curl in the air.
“J-Jean,” I pant, mind reeling when he turns his head to leave a mark in my other thigh, teeth digging in with a jolt of pain before he soothes over the skin with his wet tongue. I almost forget not to squeeze my thighs together, because his head is right there—oh my God, his head is between my legs, oh wow.
“Sensitive here, Marco?” he whispers.
But I can’t manage even a yes as he sinks his teeth in again. He’s left marks like that on my neck before, but the thought of them on my thighs, the thought of them somewhere so intimate, is mind-reeling. He knows without me having to tell him that he’s driving me insane already.
I feel like I could never feel better than I do right now. This is it, this is sex, who knew it would feel so amazing?
But it’s not over yet, and when I feel the tip of his tongue brush teasingly over my length, my whole body tightens. His hands slide up my sides. “Is that okay?” he murmurs.
And it’s all I can do to whine and nod and squirm under his soothing touch.
He presses the flat of his tongue hot against me, one long stripe all the way up my length and stopping just before the head. My moan is so high-pitched, I’d swear only dogs can hear it.
And, oh, he’s not stopping. He keeps going, his tongue swirling against the tip and spreading that sticky wet precome all over the head. My hips jolt and he has to grip them with firm hands to keep them from bucking up when he wraps his lips around the head and sucks, oh my God.
I can’t breathe, I’m just panting. My hand are everywhere, I don’t know what to do with them. Should I put them in his hair, should I try to hold onto something, should I muffle the sounds I’m making because, wow, I’m really loud.
He dips lower, takes me in deeper, and my back arches at the feeling of that wet heat enveloping me. He does something with his cheeks and starts to bob his head, and I just want to cry, how can it feel so good?
I can’t stop moving, squirming, whining, wriggling, but his hands hold me still, and it’s so good, it’s so good, it’s so good—I can’t even speak.
Broken pieces of his name fall from my lips with every touch, every lick, every suck, I can’t form the whole thing before I break off into moans again.
And he seems so satisfied with himself, I can feel him smiling around me. I can’t exactly see it though—my eyes are shut so tight, I don’t think they’ll ever open again.
And then, then, he dips down so far, so far, takes the whole thing down his throat—swallows around me—once, twice, oh my god it’s so much—
The sound I let out is so loud, but I can’t be embarrassed—
Everything’s turning white—
My nails scrape against the wooden panels beneath the blankets—
My legs squeeze together as my eyes cross—
I hear Jean choking on something, but I can’t even begin to be worried right now—
It feels like years when I can finally feel like something other than pure light—it figures that it’s Jello I feel like when I’m back in my body.
It’s a little longer before I can hear anything other than the ringing in my ears—it figures that the first thing I hear is Jean laughing.
I’m breathing so hard right now, but I manage to look at him and furrow my brow at him. “W-what?” I pant.
He bites his knuckles, holding back his laughter. He’s sitting up, but my knees are still hooked over his shoulders, and I have to bite back my blush of embarrassment—he just sucked you off, I remind myself, what’s left to be embarrassed about?
He smiles at me, and then carefully slides my knees off his shoulders so he can lean down and kiss me long and deep. His mouth tastes weird—bitter, salty, and it takes me a second to realize that he swallowed it—he swallowed IT. That’s me I’m tasting, technically.
I don’t have long to think about it, because he’s kissing me so nicely, hands curled in my hair. It takes a moment to think about anything, but the first thing that comes to mind…
“What… What were you laughing at?” I mumble between kisses.
“Pfft.” He pulls away and bites his lip at me, shaking his head. “Oh, my God, no, it’s n-nothing.”
But the way he’s grinning makes me suspicious. “What?” I ask.
Did I do something wrong? Embarrassing? My face starts to fall, but he kisses my forehead and soothes me. “No, no, you were amazing, so hot, baby… it’s just—when you came, oh my God, babe—you squeezed my head between your legs, I just—God, that’s so cute.”
My face is definitely flushing red, but I pout at him. “It’s—it can’t be that funny, Jean—“
He shakes his head, leaning down to plant his lips against my forehead again and then down the bridge of my nose to kiss the tip. “No, I was just… I wonder if you do that with your whole body,” he murmured, his voice getting lower, deeper again. “I just… wonder what it’d feel like if I were, you know, inside you—how you’d tighten up for me—“
I’m spluttering at the thought, pushing him away from me. “O-oh my God, J-Jean, stop it!”
His face falls for a split second—too far—but when I grin at him, he relaxes again. He stares at me for a few moments, that good-natured, beautiful smile. “I love you,” he whispers.
I shiver at the words. “I love you too.”

(I’m the anon who talked about Marco’s first BJ haha hi I’ve never published smut before)

Stars Shine Bright, You Shine Brighter

Jongyu / nc-17

Jinki blushed again. “I really ran into you. Like… ‘bam’” He exclaimed, clapping his hands together.

“To be fair, I wasn’t paying attention either.” Jonghyun corrected him with another friendly smile. “So… are you going to your class or did you want to get lunch with me?” He asked. “You know, since you swept me off my feet and all.”

This is actually one of my favorite things I’ve ever written and I’m really happy with how it turned out c:

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anonymous asked:

What do you like so much about birds?

Let’s see, there are a couple of versions of this answer I have employed over the years

a) Birds are dinosaurs, and I was the kind of kid who knew what a pachycephalosaurus was 

b) My mom was allergic to fur so it was basically either birds or lizards when I was a kid, so we had budgies, and so my pet-imprint memories are about tiny little bird feet grasping my finger/small, dust-smelling dudes clambering around inside my shirt and trying to climb into my mouth, for reasons which escape me to this day

c) Imagine if you will a kid with no friends walking over to the pet store after school and spending hours talking to the cages wherein parrots with mad, intelligent eyes were slowly going berserk from boredom, and, like, could a middle-schooler identify with that, or what?  I got an affinity for tragedy

d) If you love language it is hard to resist the allure of the Intermediate Egret, Temminck’s Tragopan, the Northern Red Bishop, the Great Bustard and of course the classic Yellow-Bellied Sapsucker.   “Ah, that’s a Whimbrel, there’s a Limpkin, and over there’s a fine-looking juvenile Dickcissel”, you might say.   I am the kind of person who thinks “Anhinga” gets funnier the louder you yell it; I am a child, yet.

e) peent

Lunch Date

“Someone is taking my lunches au with nalu, since your requests are open :)”- tekahl2

Alright, this one is short. I have no idea what to do for this and I want to finish the Djinn!AU tonight. Sorry it’s short!


The first time it happened, Lucy was baffled.

She could have sworn she put her lunch right there. Then again, she was in a rush that morning, so maybe she forgot to make one in the first place. It wouldn’t have been the first time she had done something like that.

The second time it happened, she was still confused, but also irritated.

She was so sure that she hadn’t forgotten that time, and apparently she was wrong–again. And so she would be missing lunch–again. Which was not a good thing, because she had missed breakfast and wouldn’t be able to eat until later that night.

The third time it happened, she was pissed.

She knew she had definitely brought a lunch that day. She took extra care in making her sandwich and packing it with some fruit. And she had put it right there. In the spot that was currently empty. As in, her food was gone. Someone had taken it.

She was beginning to think that her coworkers were worse than their students.

The forth–and last–time it happened, she’s there.

She walks into the teachers break room ten minutes earlier than she usually does, determined to catch the person taking her lunch.

And she does.

She can only watch as some guy with pink–pink–hair picks up her sandwich and raises it to his mouth. What the hell? Is this guy a student?

“Don’t you dare!” she shouts without meaning to, her eyes immediately widening in shock.

The guy drops the sandwich in surprise, whirling around to face her. Holytotally not a student! The sandwich hits the ground, the guys eyes meeting hers–wide in surprise.

So this is the new teacher Mirajane was telling her about.

She blinks. The guy is still staring at her, jaw dropped, eyes wide and curious. She stares back, eyes tracing his facial features and then down his torso. 

Mira told her that he’s a gym teacher–but damn. She was not expecting him to be, well, hot. Though–her eyes trail across his arms–she is certainly not complaining.

She blushes, eyes jerking up to lock with his as she realizes she was just checking him out. It’s not her fault though. He’s just in credibly fit in all the right places. Plus, she’s always had a thing for guys with messy hair and dark eyes–is that a shade of green or is she being sucked into the darkness? She wouldn’t care at this point.

His eyes snap to meet hers, her blush increasing when she realizes she wasn’t the only one appreciating the view.

She coughs awkwardly. This is her new coworker after all. They’re both young adults, not middle schoolers. This shouldn’t be so weird.

“That’s my lunch,” she blurts, gesturing to the downed sandwich.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

This time he’s the one that turns scarlet. “Oh…”

“You’ve been eating my lunch,” Lucy tells him, mentally wincing. Obviously. Right now she really wishes Mira–or even Loke–would burst in and save her from the awkwardness.

He clears his throat loudly, eyes still gazing into hers. “Let me make it up to you?” She watches him swallow. “I could… buy you lunch?”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” She slaps a hand over her mouth, silently cursing herself. Why did she just say that? They don’t even know each other! How could it be a date? Obviously she just ruined every–

“Yes.”

anonymous asked:

Hey there! How about a classic competitive Bellarke: we are both leaders at a summer camp and my kids are going to kick your kids asses in the camp competition?

[AO3] [FFN]

It starts by the lake. Cabin Seven′s campers are naturals with the canoes, and she flashes a victorious smile at Bellamy, who’s watching with chagrin as the kids of Cabin Twelve flounder in the shallows of the lake. 

“Whatever,” he tells her later at the campfire. “Who even uses canoes anymore? It’s not like it’s a useful life skill, being able to use a couple of fat sticks to paddle yourself around in a skinny boat.”

Clarke scoffs. “If it’ll help you feel better about my kids kicking your kids’ asses in every activity, sure, keep telling yourself that.”

He snags her s’more just as she’s about to eat the perfectly roasted piece of heaven, and takes a big, messy bite. He puts it back in her hand, graham cracker crumbling, chocolate and marshmallow oozing out on her palm. 

“May all your marshmallows burn,” she curses him. 

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