It’s a common saying among Stiles’ friends that he doesn’t have a lot of
dignity. To be perfectly honest, Stiles agrees with them (as much as he argues
against the point whenever they bring it up).
But this is probably a new low.
Well, not new-new, because this is into the fourth week of the habit
and if he was a better person, he’d have stopped by now. He’s not a better
person in this instance, but he’s made peace with it.
‘It’ being watching his stubbled neighbour jog past his place every morning
in sweatpants and obviously non-supportive underwear. There’s a lot of movement
down there. A lot.
“I mean, with that much jiggle, he’s gotta know, right?” Stiles asks his
window pane, behind which he’s fake writing on his laptop.
They’re not quite neighbours, there’s about half a block between them for
which Stiles’ sanity is thankful. Otherwise who knows what ludicrous amateur
spying would have occurred.
As it is, he is very thankful he accidentally set his alarm for five am two
(it was four) mornings in a row, because now he knows that this is a morning
ritual for his neighbour.
Today hot neighbour is wearing the cut off, grey sweats. They’re a personal
favourite of Stiles’ (better than the dark blue ones, which make it harder to
see) because it means not only can he get a clear view of his neighbour’s dick
as it swings forward against the fabric, but also his sweaty, perfectly muscled
Stiles sighs out and bangs his head once against the window pane, a small
punishment that is also part of the routine.
What is not part of the routine, is hot neighbour looking into Stiles’
window, and seeing Stiles’ face smooshed against the glass, after which he
trips, possibly in disgust, or just simple distraction.
Stiles’ first reaction is to panic. He pushes his chair back from the desk and
slams his laptop closed.
His second reaction is that he should call someone to come help.
His third reaction is to realise that, hold on, he can go and help.
Stiles rushes out his front door and into the chilly morning air.
It was a lazy Sunday morning, you woke up to an empty bed and the smell of bacon lingering in the air.
You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes as you noticed the small yet visible indent on the right side of the bed, meaning your boyfriend had just gotten out of bed not too long ago.
You sat up and stretched your arms, a soft groan left your lips as you felt your muscles contract and wake your body up. Lazily, you plopped out of bed pulling the shoulder of Tom’s T-shirt you were wearing up. Sleeping in his large T-shirts was one of your favorite things to do but due to their size you always woke up a bit more exposed than necessary.
You trudged out of your shared bedroom as you followed the smell of the bacon and smiled as you saw two plates full of food on a tray with two glasses of orange juice and a single rose from your backyard bush. You then realized Tom was trying to surprise you with breakfast in bed and rolled your eyes at your cheesy boyfriend but that didn’t stop your heart from swooning and your smile from spreading.
You heard a flush and the door knob to the bathroom in the hallway start to jingle so you quickly and quietly rushed back into your bedroom so you wouldn’t spoil Tom’s surprise. Just as you pulled the covers over you the door creaked open and in tip toed your boyfriend trying to balance the tray while holding the rose in between his teeth. You tried your best to act asleep and thankfully, he bought it.
You felt the bed indent next to you and then a sweet and gentle kiss to your temple as your boyfriend whispered “darling get up” followed by another kiss to your forehead.
You, playing the part, just slightly groaned acting as if you were still asleep. You heard Tom’s throaty chuckle as he started peppering your face in kisses resulting in you giggling and pushing against his naked chest.
“I’m up I’m up I’m up” you laughed as he pulled away giving you a satisfied grin.
“That doesn’t mean you could stop..” you teased as he gave you a raised eyebrow and obliged by leaning back down to pepper your face and neck in more kisses.
His soft lips brushing against your neck made you you laugh as it tickled, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up until he finally pulled away, the both of you laughing. He gave you one final kiss on the lips and you appreciatively smiled as he turned towards the two plates of food laying next to you.
“I see you got busy this morning.” You said giggling as he picked up a strawberry and dangled it over your mouth.
“Only the best for my love.” He stated, pride and admiration evident in his voice.
You lifted your head and bit into the strawberry, its sweet juices filling your mouth and dripping down your chin causing Tom to chuckle and swipe his thumb across your chin and lips lifting it to his mouth, sucking the excess juice.
The tension in the air increased as neither of you said a word, just fed each other your breakfast in comfortable silence. You finished up the meal, Tom got up and gathered the plates taking the dirty dishes to the sink. You laid back down waiting for your boyfriend to return, playing with the hem of his oversized t shirt you were wearing. He entered with a smug smile tugging at his lips as he went to the foot of the bed and connected his phone to the blue tooth speaker.
You couldn’t help but admire his toned chest and the way his curls fell over his eyes messily. You loved the crease in between his brows, meaning he was deep in concentration and the strong prominent curve of his jawline. Your eyes trailed down to his Calvin Klein’s peeking out from underneath his grey sweats, hanging loosely and low on his hips. Sometimes you had to pinch yourself to remind you he was real, and he was yours.
“What are you doing?” You asked quirking an eyebrow up, getting a smile in response.
Suddenly “Into It” but Chase Atlantic filled the room as Tom smirked and set his phone down on the counter, crawling up on top of you slowly, holding his body weight on his arms as he looked down at you.
“Quite interesting song choice there mister” you quipped, Tom just chuckling in response before he leans down and kisses you full on the mouth.
“I thought it fit the mood quite nicely.” He responded pulling away, a smug and proud smile spreading across his face.
“Oh?” your brows furrowed together. “And what exactly is the mood sir?” You asked innocently.
This time you didn’t even get a response. Tom lifted a hand to your cheek, caressing it down to your neck slowly and bent down lingering his lips across yours,
“The one where I get to eat my second most important meal of the day.” He muttered before cupping your face with the same hand and sliding his thumb to your jaw turning your head to leave soft and lingering open mouth kisses along your neck.
His lips brushed your collarbone and you shuttered, goosebumps appearing making Tom smirk against your skin. Tom slid his hand from your neck down to the curves of your body, giving each one extra love and attention, until he reached your thigh.
He gave your left thigh a squeeze, picking it up abruptly causing you to involuntarily squeal and placed it around his waist giving him more leverage in between your legs. Tom’s hands started caressing your body once again, this time starting from your thighs sliding their way up, only stopping to glide his t shirt up off your body kissing a trail up the new exposed skin.
He dropped his T-shirt you were wearing on the floor next to him. You were bare in front of him, the only piece of fabric you adorned were your light blue boxer shorts, although you wouldn’t for long. Tom stood on his knees, drinking in your body. No matter how many times he had the privilege of touching and marking it, your body was his paradise and he planned on getting lost in it every chance he could.
Hooking his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, his eyes met yours asking for consent and you hastily nodded in approval. Without hesitation he slid the last piece of fabric off of you, flinging them behind him without a care where they landed.
By the look in his eye and his body language, you knew you wouldn’t be leaving the bed all afternoon. You may have had breakfast, but you were both starving and planned on feasting all day.
Strawberries (Damian Wayne x Reader) *Collab with Colormemeow*
A/N: Here’s the fic me and @colormemeow wrote together in celebration of our 300 milestone!
You had woken up that morning, unenthusiastically expecting an empty apartment. It had been unbearably boring ever since Batman had temporarily grounded you from patrol. But instead of the usual empty house, you found Damian, flopped unceremoniously onto your couch, looking like he’d been hit by, well, a Batmobile.
“Um… Hello?” you greeted and walked over to the sofa, kneeling so that you could make eye contact with him.
“Good morning,” he replied, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
This had happened before, so the shock factor had worn off slightly.
“You, my friend, are getting blood all over my couch,” you pointed out.
‘It’s not my blood,” he tried to reassure you.
“That’s not any better! Now, why don’t we get you out of that uniform?“
“Beloved, are you attempting to flirt with me?” Damian responded, smirking.
“If you think that this is flirting, you’re out of your damn mind. I’m saying that you smell bad and I want you to shower, so get off of my couch,” you said, quickly pecking him on the nose.
He huffed in annoyance before rolling off the couch and making his way to your bathroom.
“Your shampoo is in there!” you called from the linen closet, where you were trying to see if Damian had left any clothes at your house.
Damian stood in the shower, looking at your bottles of soap. On the shower shelf, there was a wide array of soaps, including the shampoo you had gotten for him when he stayed over. However, a different bottle caught his eye.
Damian walked out into your bedroom, to find the clothes you had laid out, for him. He raised an eyebrow at the choice, but chose not to complain. A few minutes later he walked out of your room wearing grey sweats and an undersized black t-shirt. Damian noticed a pink sweatshirt sitting on a chair. He stopped to consider his dignity before putting on the sweatshirt. It fit and was fairly warm, so he didn’t mind the color.
You were lying on your sofa, snacking on a bowl of strawberries that you had gotten for yourself while waiting for Damian to get out of the shower. There was a loud thumping sound, followed by a string of curses.
“Don’t you dare die on me!” you shouted from the couch, trying to make sure Damian didn’t kill himself in your shower.
About ten minutes later, you were met with Damian, draping himself gracelessly over you, Damian’s damp hair was pressed into the crook of your neck. “Hello,” you greeted for the second time that morning. Before Damian could reply, you spoke again. “Did you use my shampoo?”
“It smelled like strawberries, I couldn’t help it, beloved,” he said into your neck, tangling his legs with yours.
“Smells nice on you. And is that my hoodie?” You moved one hand to run your fingers through his hair.
“Pink’s a good color on you,” you remarked sarcastically.
Damian hummed in response, and shifted so that he could kiss you, with his arms on either side of your head. He gave you several short pecks on the lips. “Marry me,” he mumbled, his face hovering over yours.
“I’m not that insane,” you replied, smirking and moving your head up to give him another kiss.
“I’m serious,” he responded, but his phone started to ring. He moved one arm to pull it out of the pocket of his sweats. “It’s my father, beloved. I probably have to go,” he sighed.
“No,” you whined, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Stay.”
“Beloved, I-” he stopped when he saw your pout. “Fine,” he muttered. “But what if it’s serious?”
“Promise me you’ll stay,” you begged, kissing him once again.
“Beloved, it is getting increasingly difficult to say no to you,” Damian said, furrowing his brow.
“I can make it worth your while,” you giggled, popping a strawberry into your mouth.
“You’re too good for this world, beloved,” he chuckled, then pressed his lips onto yours in a heated kiss.
His arms returned to either side of your head as the kiss grew more passionate. Your hands were on his chest, and the kiss broke for him to hastily pull off the pink sweatshirt and t-shirt.
Your position changed slightly, and now Damian’s knees were on either side of your hips, and he had your arms pinned above your head.
His lips were rough against yours and he kissed you fiercely.
You and Damian were both too preoccupied to hear the soft thunk coming from your fireplace.
It wasn’t until Bruce loudly cleared his throat that you both turned to look. There he was, in the full Batman suit.
Damian jerked off of the couch, landing on the floor. You heard a string of arabic cursing before he collected himself. “H-hello, father!” he exclaimed, looking absolutely mortified, his face almost as pink as the sweatshirt he’d been wearing. “It’s a bit early for you to be out, isn’t it?” Damian tried, attempting to avoid Bruce’s interrogation.
“Damian, would you like to explain to me why you elected not to report back to the cave after patrol last night?” Bruce questioned, crossing his arms over his chest. “And explain to me what this is,” he continued, gesturing to the two of you in your disheveled state.
You were practically petrified. Having your adoptive father-figure walk in on you and his son making out was not a comfortable situation.
“Father I am nineteen. I might remind you that I’m an adult,” Damian argued.
Bruce sighed, looking as if he was making a decision. “Fine,” he grumbled. “I’m too young to be having grandchildren,” he muttered to himself, making your face go bright red. In another instant, he was gone.
“I should probably go, beloved,” Damian reasoned, getting up and starting to change into his uniform.
“Yeah, I guess,” you admitted, sighing in defeat and standing up.
“I’ll be back later tonight after patrol,” he told you, walking over and taking your hands in his.
“Just do one last thing and kiss me,” you replied, smiling gently.
He nodded and kissed you softly. “Just so you know, beloved, I was serious about marrying you.”
And before you knew it he was out your window and off to save the world.
Title: Mile High Club Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader Synopsis: legit just pure sin on my part, i’m dragging you all to hell with me Word Count: 1.6k WARNING: SMUT SMUT SMUTTY SMUT SMUTTY SMUT SMUT and a bit of swearing (i’m from england, it’s what i do) A/N: so i saw the recent pics of tom in grey sweats, as well as this old video of tom at the airport and jesus, that boy deadass knows what he’s doing to all of us so, this happened. huge creds to @boyfriendtom for helping me out on this one, i love u my angel!! also, please do watch the video because the way he whips that belt off fcks me up big time. anyways, i hope you enjoy, and let me know what you think here!!
Summary: Y/N and Jughead take a long drive out of Riverdale for a road trip and discover their hidden feelings for each other
Warnings: swearing, slight smut, drinking
‘Swerving on the 405, I can never keep my eyes off this’
We’d been driving for hours, we didn’t even know where we were going anymore, or what were running from. The sudden impulsive decision to get out of town and take a road trip was decided by Jughead. He had been distressed at school lately and said he had a lot of stuff going on in his head, and he needed to get away.
Me being the good friend I am, and caring a great deal for him, didn’t want him to be alone so I decided to make the offer on taking him away for a while.
Muse: Min Yoongi x Reader Genre: Fluffy cringey fluff and a pinch of angst. Word: 3.5k Type: A friends with benefits AU ─In which one of you falls in love
with the other and confesses without saying the three little words. + College AU Note: A companion piece to Why
People Fall in Love because I’m a sucker for FWB!AU’s Warning: Implied smut.
closest to Hoseok in terms of friendship and flirtationship as per everyone’s
painfully blatant knowledge ─ very much like the ‘he likes her she likes him
and everybody knows but them trope’ with the exception you’re aware of your
feelings for that boy. But what they don’t know is the existential violet
bruises you keep fairly hidden underneath your complementary jackets and skinny
jeans ─always all covered up head to toe, you might give the Sisters a run for
bruises made by Hoseok’s best friend, Min Yoongi.
Summary: You use a jealous Pietro’s ignorance to your own advantage to get him to admit your relationship Warnings: swearing, almost smut A/N: I was reading through old requests at 1:00 because I couldn’t sleep and this happened #sorrynotsorry
“You’ve been fucking each other for how long now?”
“Four months, three weeks, and five days,” you answered Natasha’s question, taking another sip of your drink and running your hand across your face in an attempt to conceal your embarrassment.
“And neither of you are fucking anyone else?”
“No,” you said, pressing your lips together and regretting your existence. Natasha had caught you sneaking from his room early Thursday morning, your hair a mess and your shorts in your hand. “Neither I nor Piet are fucking anyone else, Nattie.”
“Yet no one knows and neither of you will admit you’re together?”
Request- Hi! Could u do a Bucky imagine where the reader is Tony’s daughter and she had a wet dream about Bucky and tells Wanda and Nat about it and the boys hear the conversation and Tony gets all protective and all? You can choose the final!!I love your blog btw♡ from @awesomebrokenangelworldus-blog
Bucky Barnes X Stark!Reader
Word Count: 1763
Warnings: There’s a wet dream! that’s pretty NSFW.
A/N: Hello! I’m sorry this took a while! I hope this is alright!! Please let me know :) xo
Warnings: NSFW!!! 6k+ words worth of filthy smut, student-teacher stuff (reader is of legal age)
Note: FINALLY! My entry for @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash 2nd writing challenge! So happy to be participating this time! Prompt is Coach Negan obviously. Writing’s kinda messy tbh, but I did my best. Enjooooy!
You failed PE the first time.
You dropped it the second time. And from then on, you avoided taking it during your next two years in college. Why would PE be a requirement in college, anyway? It’s not like it’d benefit you as a Literary major. Besides, was there even a known writer in history who credited PE as one of the major factors for their success? Nada. You hated PE, you despised it. It was totally unnecessary but now that you were moving on to your last year in college, you’re left with no other choice but to conquer it in order to graduate.
The regret from not passing it early on hit you the very moment you entered the gym. Since PE was only taken by freshmen students, you were sort of the oldest among your classmates. Had you not failed and dropped it during your first two semesters in college, you wouldn’t be dealing with such embarrassment now.
But then again you suck at being athletic so even if you didn’t drop out during your second semester PE, you’d still face the embarrassment of having zero skills in any kind of sport.
It also didn’t help that the only PE class available was volleyball and you just had to end up being in the class handled by the most notorious coach in the entire university– Coach Negan.