her calves

Rest Stop

Lance was never proud of the one thing that could make him stand out.

(The one thing that made him stand, even in his family, the one thing that destroyed the chances of affection and hugs and attention, the one thing he’d never move past, the one thing that’d always haunt him, the one thing that could get someone killed)

Lance was born with a smooth back, tan skin free of birth marks but full of freckles. Lance was born with beautiful blue eyes, deep tawny hair, and a dazzling smile. Lance was not born with a pair of wings.

Lance was wingless.

Less than 1% of the world was wingless, and that meant those who were….never had good fates. Abandonment, abuse, neglect, suicide rates almost a solid 100….anyone born wingless in this time and age was destined a shitty fate, to die for the lack of something they could not have.

But Lance did not.

His mother hated him with her very soul, but even she wasn’t heartless enough to murder someone, no matter how indirectly. His siblings might laugh with him, might eat with him, but they were never around for more than a few seconds, tossing looks over their shoulder for a parent or aunt or uncle. Lance was hidden away, kept out of sight by his parents and family for his whole life, living in the attic or traipsing the private stretch of beach that had been in his family for years, hearing the voice of the sky but never being able to answer it. (Not like he could without wings, anyway)

But then, he found a way he could.

The Galaxy Garrison, a military school where uniforms over wings were required, where group preening, cuddling, and flying sessions were encouraged but never mandatory. A place he could hide in plain sight and still see the sky. A place Lance signed up for in secret, got a scholarship, and shoved it all at his parents, the father who’d taught him the wingless were useless and the mother who never hugged him. A place that hate crimes couldn’t trace back to and murder his family if his secret ever got out.

It was too good to be true.

And it was. Lance was never the best, always mocked for trying to answer the call of the sky for the first time in his life. It wasn’t like when he’d answered the push and pull of the ocean. The ocean was cool, sometimes cold or freezing, but sage, wise and ready to crash and fall and crest back up. Ready to change, ready to grow, ready to soothe. Content to watch and learn, finding complexity in the simplest things, but brave enough to venture out on it’s own, to try on its own to live up and live past expectatons. The ocean was a gentle hand running over his back, swirling him around in currents of fate and past, gentle but wild, pushing but never shoving.

The sky shoved, but in what Lance saw as a good way. Watching gaggles of siblings and uncles and aunts swoop and soar, thrown out into organized anarchy midair, riding drafts. The sky was wild, insane. It could not sit still, it could not listen, it could not be gentle or understand. It was headstrong or helpful, stubborn or relenting. There was no in between. When it’s chicks matured and reached for the air, the sky threw them out, to the ground or the air.

A few chicks crashed, or came close, but they picked themselves back up, flapped with crooked or straight feathers, and chased the others. The ocean did not work that way. It could mimic, but it would never let it’s young crash or drown unless it was the best choice. Lance was glad for that, though he knew the sky would have pushed him faster, harder, to be who he could be, he knew he’d be the rare smashed egg, splattered on the concrete.

If it took years, he didn’t care. He was alive.

Lance remembers the looks at the Garrison at night or on weekends when he wore a bulky jacket and the issued pajamas, instead of snatching the chance to stretch his wings. The stares, the quirked eyebrows that the kid who joked, flirted, and screamed on a regular basis wouldn’t try for more attention.

Hunk, dear god Hunk, had wings big enough for both of them.

Beautiful, mahogany feathers that glowed golden on the ends when light shined on them. Thick, massive wings that he’d drape around Lance’s shoulder, wings that engulfed him in warmth and affection and took away unwanted attention. Too many people saw Hunk’s wings as plain. Lance saw them as a fucking savior, the first thing to treat him nicely and warmly.

But this savior need protecting from the savee.

Which was why Lance never told Hunk, or the team, that he was wingless.

Even Alteans had wings.

Coran’s were a gorgeous tangerine color, white, brown, red, and black speckles slipping between the feathers and coating them like candy sugar. Allura’s were an exact image of Alfor’s, deep, black wings the color of the vastness around them, silver streaks and dots making constellations that shined in lights.

The team’s may have been Earthen, but god, were they ethereal. Shiro, had a collage of slate gray and white, individual feathers breaking layers of colors, proof of the stress of the Arena. They peaked at the top, and were enormous, taller than Hunk’s but not quite as wide or thick. Pidge’s wings were peaked, but they curved out into cute little floofs. They only reached her hips, not past her calves or thighs like everyone else. They clearly weren’t fully grown, but Lance loved their speckled outsides, the tawny, earthy, color so close to her hair but clearly had a more hay-ish tint.

And Keith.

Holy shit, Keith.

His wings were like giant sparrow wings, angular but not peaked, wide burgundy curtains of feathers that fell to his thighs. They were warm, and firm, like a well trained muscle (which they were, technically). The ends were sharp and sleek, but the shy wing touches he sometimes gave Lance proved they were incredibly soft. Lance was always reminded of a wolf when he saw them; built for fast paced marathons. They were no where near as strong as Hunk’s, but Lance had watched Keith carry a Pidge in a simulated rescue. Wings weren’t designed to carry more than the weight of one person, the person with them.

He would never have a pair of wings.

So he reveled in the freedom that lacking a pair of wings gave him. Lance climbed, slept on his back, swam, and learned how to read emotions through little tics. The swimming came easily, like the ocean changed for him, parted and shifted to let him pass or propel him ahead. Lance knew he did. Wings weren’t an instant evolution. Generations of humans developed the genes and mutations of wings - Lance wasn’t just going to instantaneously sprout gills. He could, however, form a thin membrane as a sideways, second pair of eyelids. The same membrane acted as a moveable filter in his ears to hear underwater, and a slight webbing between his fingers. Strategically placed, retractable fangs a little bigger than his front teeth weren’t hard either.

The most notable change was when his legs stopped kicking, his knees disabled, and they swished back and forth. He could easily switch to kicking, but the longer he spent in the water, the more his legs acted as a single mass of flesh and bone. It wasn’t a tail, and Lance sometimes thought he was imagining it, but it was like a snake’s body, swinging side to side to move forward.

Wings were amazingly expressive, every angry twitch or nervous shuffle gave way to a mindscape, a scope of emotions and thoughts Lance learned to pick up on. Hiding your wings was seen as a sign of fear, distrust, and refusing to show them was a red flag in any relationship, platonic or romantic. It was normal to reach out and rest a wing on someone else’s as a sign of reassurance, and to purposely keep your tucked away meant you didn’t trust anyone with them. Your wings were essentially your life - if they got wet or mutilated you were grounded, tied to Earth and water.

And water drowned.

To his team, Lance was a hallow corpse without emotions. He was jello before it froze. They could hear his laugh, see his smiles, hear his cheers. But without his wings, the team couldn’t read him clearly. It was like they had lost their glasses, and Lance was the blurred board they couldn’t see, couldn’t guess, couldn’t decipher more than a few letters from.

They didn’t know, so they couldn’t understand. Lance wasn’t sure if he ever wanted them to understand.

2

Requested by:

Annon:
Hi I don’t know if you can do a bill Skarsgard imagine like bill brothers come to visit you two and you an bill have a little fun at night😉😉and in the morning his brothers tease you both about how loud you are and bill was defending you and yeah ejeje thank you!! “Smut” please thanks!       

@harleysgothamonline
Hello, desperate fangirl here! Could you possibly do an imagine where the reader and Bill get into a huge argument just having a screaming match and they are both screaming and crying and she’s hitting his chest out of anger, and then they both make up by kissing passionately and cuddling. It’s okay if you want to pass on that idea, I promise I won’t be butt hurt lol.

Warnings: Language, smut.

A/N: I hope you don’t mind that I mixed two request, I’ve changed the roles just a little. This is my firs time writting smut and I really sucks… sorry about that, I‘ve tried my best, sorry for my horrible english.

Pairing: Bill Skarsgard x Reader

Title: “You moan like a princess”

__________

“Stop yelling, Y/N, my siblings are in the next room” Bill whispered trying to stay calm despite his girlfriend still yelling at him without reason

“I DON’T CARE THEY’RE IN HERE BILL” She yelled furiously, feeling her heart beating faster against her chest  

“Why are you so angry, Y/N? WHAT DID I DO NOW?” he asked without understanding, twining his fingers in his hair, starting to feel desperate.  

“I SAW YOUR CELLPHONE” She confessed with tears in her eyes “I SAW YOUR MESSAGES WITH THAT SLUT, BILL!”  She felt the bitter tears begin to slide down her red cheeks. Bill looked at her, he was furious, his girlfriend had been snooping on his cellphone without permission

“WHY DID YOU CHECK MY PHONE, Y/N?” He asked angrily, starting to yell too

“OH MY GOD! I JUST FOUND YOUR MESSAGES WITH ANOTHER WOMAN AND YOU…  Oh God , I CAN’T BELIEVE IT, BILL!” She tried to look at him, but tears clouded her vision and she felt how her heart break into a thousand pieces. Bill stayed quiet, looking at who he believed was the love of his life, crying furiously in front of him and he felt like the worst human being.

“I’m sorry” He whispered with a broken voice, approaching her, trying to hold her, but she walks away

“YES, YOU SHOULD SORRY” She kept yelling, not with anger but sadness

“Y/N, it’s not what you think, nothing ever happened with her” He tried to hug her desperately and she hits him on the chest

“I’m not stupid, Bill” She hits him again trying to get away from him, but he was holding her tight

“I know you’re not, Y/N, please” He begged with tears in his eyes “I love you”

“No, you don’t” She sobbed as he embraced her

“Hey…” He whispered and takes her chin with his fingertips “Look at me, my love” Y/N turned to see him, Oh God! She loved his green eyes “You have to believe me, I would never do anything to hurt you” He said more relaxed

“But I saw the messages, Bill, you can’t deny it!”

He sighed heavily.

The truth was that in the last few months, Bill had been planning his marriage proposal to Y/N, and his best friend had agreed to help him with it, the messages really could be misunderstood because they just talked about meeting in certain places to talk about it

“She was helping me to plan my marriage proposal” he confesses in distress “Now it’s all ruined, but I don’t care because I don’t want to lose you Y/N” he walked to the dressing table and take the fake flowers from the clay vase, he reached into the vase and pulled out a small black box.

He went back to Y/N and showed it to her “It’s not as I had planned it, actually Gustaf and Alex were here to help me with it but… damn it! You’d to be a psycho girlfriend, dear!” Y/N looked at him in puzzlement, with one hand covering her mouth, feeling the stupidest woman on the planet, she was trembling and couldn’t control it, Bill rested his forehead on hers; she could feel his warm breath and breathe his favorite cologne that she loved it so much, chamomile and mint, she looked into his eyes “be my wife” he whispered opening the little box

“Oh my god”

“is it a yes?”

“Yes” She whispered almost inaudibly.

Bill took the ring and put it on her finger. He kissed her,  holding her tightly by the waist, but it wasn’t a romantic kiss, it was one full of desire. It wouldn’t be the first time they ended up having sex after an argument.

He was much taller than her, but Y/N manages to take a small leap by wrapping her legs around his waist; Bill walked with her and they lie down on the bed while still kissing

“Do you want to go out to dinner? Or do you prefer to stay and kiss to see how this continues?” He said between kissed. Y/N looked at him and responded with another kiss even more passionate than the previous one.

Her hands had begun to play with the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning them one by one until completely removed. She loved to see him like that, she adored his milky skin and his Adam’s apple moving every time is swallowed, she loved his dilated pupils giving a special touch to the green of his eyes, and his velvet lips, Dear God.

Bill had taken her dress off along with her dark bra, his kisses had begun to run down her neck and shoulder making her gasp slightly, his velvet lips begging to fiddle with her left nipple making her squirm under him and panting wildly, his right hand low up brushing the thin fabric of her underwear, feeling as she began to get wet just for him, her thighs trembled.  

Y/N tried to control her hips, but she was desperate to feel some friction, so she took his hand and guide him inside her panties, he began to touch her gently rubbing her clit, she struggled not to moan to loudly, after all Bill’s brothers were in the next room. He slides his fingers inside her and she twisted her neck letting exposed to him, he couldn’t miss the opportunity to kiss it and suck it slightly causing it to form a small hickey that would disappear soon.

He stopped touching her “What happened?” She asked confused “Why did you stop?”

“It seems you aren’t enjoying what I’m doing” He replied, whispering in her ear. His warm breath crashing against her skin, excited her even more.

“Your brothers are in the other room, Bill”

“I thought you didn’t mind, sweetheart” He tested her, lifted one eyebrow playfully as he licked her earlobe, making her moan softly.

“Bill, please” she whispered

“I want you to scream my name” He slip another finger inside her and felt her scratching his arm.

“Bill” she whispered breathlessly as he began to move his fingers inside her, she moved her hips and moan against his neck “more…” She begged him

“I can’t hear you, sweetie”

“Fuck me, Bill” She begged, biting his jaw gently and arranging to unbuckle his belt and remove his trousers, touching his prominent bulge, he groaned at her touch and without thinking twice she moved her hand inside his boxers taking his erection.

“Shee-it, Y/N” He settled between her legs and gently slide inside her as he kissed her hardly, he lets out a small groan as she scratched his back in response, he started thrusting faster and harder

In a quick movement, Y/N was on top of him, riding his cock and scratching his chest with every movement she made, Bill held her by the waist to gain the most stimulation with each stroke. He loved her, he loved her waist, her messy hair and her breasts moving to the beat of both.

She began to feel how the heat grew inside her and her calves began to tingle, as it happened every time she was about to reach an orgasm, she also felt how Bill’s muscles began to tense beneath her… “Y/N” He groaned as he clutched her breasts and took her neck to draw her closer to him and kiss her with passion finally thrusting their both into a climax.

__

Y/N and Bill were in the kitchen making breakfast, they heard footsteps and laughter in the hall, Gustaf and Alex appeared and sat on the kitchen counter in front of both

“Good morning guys” Y/N greeted them while turning a pancake with the spatula

“Good morning, Y/N” replied Gustaf “How about last night guys?” he asked as he serve a cup of coffee, Y/N and Bill cross glances and laugh “I mean… we heard you arguing”

“And other stuff” Alex joked

Y/N felt her cheeks begin to turn pink and laughed nervously, she knew these two too well and they wouldn’t hesitate to joke “I don’t know which one is noisier, if my brother or his girlfriend” mocked Alex and Bill turned to see him angrily

Gustaf let out a loud laugh “Bill you moan like a princess”

Y/N laughed and watched Bill’s jaw began to tighten

“I mean… Dad would be very disappointed in you, brother” Alex stood up to reach a mug

Y/N laughed and walked over to Bill “Let him alone guys” She said, wrapping her arms around his neck “I love your moans baby, don’t mind them” she confessed giving him a kiss on his lips and gigglin.

requests are open! (x)

MASTERLIST

anonymous asked:

What if Harry went really rough on YN last night and she keeps saying she's fine but the wobbles and marks say otherwise

Harry would be so fucking smug about it.

The next morning she swings her legs off the bed, rubbing at her eyes with the palms of her hands and stifling a huge yawn, thumbing over the deep purple bite marks scattered across her thighs and smoothing her fingertips over the bruises on her hips, remembering how hard he’d gripped them.

There’s a dull, satisfying throbbing in between Y/N’s legs, pulsing so deep it laps at the pit of her stomach. It’s like he’s still balls deep inside her, tucked up into her tummy with his sweaty hips spreading her fleshy thighs open, slamming her into another dimension. It paints a small, fulfilled smile across her tinted lips, making her feel all warm and bubbly inside.

“Y'look hot like that.”

Keep reading

Missing Homework (SMUT)

Namjoon x Reader Smut (Teacher AU)

Word Count: 2049

Your POV

“Dammit, I should have just copied the work off someone else,” you thought as you stayed behind for lunch as your teacher had something to “discuss” with you. You knew it had to do with the ton of missing assignments that you had been putting off. It wasn’t your fault you had to practically take care of your parents and siblings! And really, you didn’t exactly find his subject very interesting, so why waste your time.

“Good luck!,” your friend called before she closed the door behind her, leaving you and your teacher, Mr.Kim, alone in the room. His room was rather simple, as expected from the rather blunt male. He was rather notorious for giving straight forward answers and opinions, but every student knew he was a very kind and gentle man at heart. He had a soft spot for individually helping kids when they were really struggling if they approached him.

Yet, there was something about him that was rather…oppressive. Maybe the way he walked with his long legs, crossing the rather large classroom in a mere second, or the way his eyes would squint at you as you read a passage, burning up your cheeks. He was always so commanding and in control, and you loved it.

Namjoon POV

There she stood, with her hunched shoulders and feet shuffling in spot. Her obedient tendencies, to say yes at every question and divert her eyes when he looked at her, brought out a different side of him. A side not all women enjoyed it, but, perhaps, young Miss (Y/N) would.

Of course she was wearing her school uniform, the navy and green plaid skirt riding a bit high from just having stood up. The white, longsleeve button down straining just a bit over her breats, and the small, black scarf tied loosely around her neck. Her knee high socks clung to her tanned legs, her slight heels gave her calves a small enhancement and caused her to walk with a bit of a sway . A striking image of a sweet, innocent, submissive schoolgirl.

“What did I do in my past life to get this kind of opportunity,” he thought with a slight smirk playing on his lips.

Third Person POV

“Come sit (Y/N),” Namjoon said. In his usually, slightly rough, voice.

(Y/N) walked across the room, her heels slightly echoing in the emptiness, only increasing what felt like a thundercloud of tension, possibly sexual?

You take a seat and place your hands on your knees, not crossing your legs.

“I’m sure you are aware of why I had you hang back to speak with me?,” Namjoon asked

“Sir, I know I haven’t done most of my work, I’m really sorry I just don’t hav–”

Namjoon cuts you off, “It’s alright I understand, you are a growing lady and your responsibilities have increased,” he says. With a rather calming tone in his voice. “However, I have too keep them as zeros until I get some work from you, why don’t you stay here for the next few lunches and try to get some work done during the day?”

“Stay in a room, with just me and Mr. Kim, for a whole 45 minutes? And he expects nothing to happen? I’ll die of tension if I have to stay here with him,” you think. But at the same time, you know you have to get this work done.

“Alright, I’ll try and finish as much work as I can!” you say in the most motivated way you can muster.

10 minutes later

“God if I have to put up with looking at her for another minute i’m going to explode.”

“How can he just sit there and still look so powerful?”

“Fuck this…”

You look up and see Namjoon standing on the other side of your desk, looming over you.

“Y-Yes, Mr.Kim,” you manage to stutter, trying not to bring ur eyes down to the level of his pelvic region, which happened to be at a perfect height for you.

“(Y/N), come to my desk please,” he says, his voice a bit deeper than before.  

You almost stumble getting up, and walk with Namjoon over to his, rather large, desk. You stand at a corner while he crosses in front of you and takes a seat on his chair. He subtly runs his eyes up and down your figure, slightly noticing your feet shuffle, your trademark sign of nervousness.

“Come sit,” Namjoon says as he pats his thigh. You almost fall backwards in shock at the random request, and Namjoon simply smirks and grabs your wrist to bring you onto his lap. Your knees fold in between his thighs as you feel you ass resting on the fabric of his pants.

You try not to face him, for his face is a mere inch from yours. You can feel your cheeks heating up and you heartbeat getting louder by the second.

You tried squirming to get your skirt under your ass to stop your further wetting core from getting onto his pants, but Namjoon wraps his long arm around you and squeezes your waist.

“Um, M-Mr.Kim, what a-are you doing?” you manage to finally say.

He pulls his lips up into his signature smirk and moves his other hand to you hip wrapping you in his arms. “Now princess, we both know that something was bothering both of us,” he starts, his eyes staring all over you causing you to slightly squirm more, “and I think it’s better if we just address it before you can finish up you work.”

At that flipped you so you were facing him and straddling his legs, his chest touching yours. You squeaked in surprise at the quick movement, and felt his breath on you. He grabbed your chin and forced you to face him. His eyes looking over your whole face as he smirked and ran his thumb across your cheek, “look how soft my princess’s skin is.”

“M-Mr.Ki-” he silenced you with his lips on yours.

“Hush baby girl, and I’m no longer Mr.Kim okay?” He picked you up by your thighs and placed your back onto his desk. “I’m daddy from now on.”

“Y-yes daddy.” You had no idea where this was going, how you got here, but you just knew that you liked it, you liked it very much.

“Good girl princess, that sounds so good coming from your pretty little mouth.”

He slides his hands down your clothed chest and untied your scarf, then he began unbuttoning you blouse, so slowly and meticulously, savoring every new bit of skin. He took off your shirt and looked down at you. Already so hot with just your light pink bra and small skirt riding up to where he could see your matching panties. He licked his lips just imagining violating ur precious little body.

“Look at me princess, give me your wrists,” he commanded as he undid his tie. You simply looked up at him and obliged, biting you lips. He tied his tie on your wrists binding your two hands, the soft fabric tightening on your skin with every knot. Namjoon kissed your knuckles and let your hands fall above your head.

“Now, you need to make sure your hands stay above your head okay baby girl? You don’t want to make daddy upset on your first time, do you?”

You meekly shook you head, “No daddy.”

“Will you be a good princess for me?”

“Yes daddy”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He smirked and kissed you softly.

Namjoon moved down to your chest, pulling each breast out of their cups. He brought his head down and began suckling on one while kneading the other and pinching your tits. His tongue swirled around one bud and then he transferred sides, showing love to each. His thick lips perfectly encased your tit and his fingers playfully teased the other. All you could do was gasp at each touch and moaned lie never before.

“Is my princess already so enthralled? Daddy hasn’t even gotten started yet baby girl.” He joked, noticing your already helpless state.

“D-Daddy please, oh god, daddy you feel so good.”

“My baby girl is so good. Look at you, already coming undone for me.” He went down again, slightly biting you bud. Causing you to gasp and whimper slightly at the soft pain.

Namjoon moved down your body, leaving soft butterfly kisses across your belly, giving you goosebumps. Reaching the line of your skirt, he slowly pulled it off, admiring the progressive appearance of you soft pink panties with small white lace borders. He threw your skirt off to the side, again staring about your beautiful body.

He smiled at your panties and ran his index under the band, “these look so good on you princess, I’ll have to buy you more sets like these.” He bent down over your body, pressing you under his chest, his groin slightly brushing yours. “My baby girl should always look this precious,” Namjoon whispered in your ear before pulling back and kissing you again.

Hooking one finger under your panties again, he slipped them off, smirking at how soaked they already were. As he tossed them, he marveled in how absolutely sinful you looked. Your cheeks were burning red, your breathing shallow, and you body glistening in a light sheen of sweat. Your pussy practically dripping for Namjoon to just lick right up.

“Princess, you look so beautiful right now, daddy is thinking of all the ways he could fuck you up right now.” Namjoon says as he runs his thumb on your knee.

“Daddy please, daddy I- I need you, p-please,” you manage to get out in between choppy breaths.

“Tell me what you want from me baby girl,” Namjoon says, his voice going husky and his hands lightly skimming the skin of your inner thigh. It gave you goosebumps and only made you breathe harder.

“I want daddy to lick me, please daddy,” you plead through moans.

“That’s it baby girl,” he says as he lowers his head to your dripping pussy, “Look how pretty you are princess.”

Namjoon takes his tongue and runs in once through your folds, watching you shiver and moan. Then, while his thumb rubs your clit, he sucks you into his lips, licking up every drop on your core. He works his tongue in between your folds, and slips it in and out of your pussy.

“Oh daddy yeessss, keep doing that, please daddy,” you moan. Namjoon’s lips and tongue overflow every sense you have, his soft lips encasing you.

“Yeah princesses, you like it when daddy licks ur sexy little clit baby girl? Daddy can do this all day sweetheart, I’m here to make my princess feel so special.”

“Daddy, don’t stop daddy, I’m gonna cum.”

“I wanna taste my baby girls jucies, cum for me my sexy little princess.” Namjoon says as he continues to wrap your pussy in his soft lips.

You feel your whole body come undone, your legs buck under the pleasure, and you cum all over your daddy’s face.

Namjoon looks down at you again, after having licked up you cum. You were still breathing hard and your legs still shaking. Your eyes were closed and slowly opened to meet his gaze. 

“Princess, do you know how fucking sinful you look right now,” Namjoon says with his sexy smirk back as he pulls you up off the desk, holding onto your shoulders to help you keep your balance. He takes your chin again and places a light kiss on your lips and sets another on your forehead.

“Now lets get you dressed, hmm?”

He helps you gather all your clothes and puts your shoes back on. “You know baby girl, you have to come back next lunch to finish up your other work,” he says with a devious smile.

“Don’t worry daddy, I’ll make sure to get all my work done next time.” You reply, a small smile playing on your lips at the new name you have for your teacher.

“That’s what daddy likes to hear, princess,” Namjoon playfully growls in your ear, grabbing your ass through your skirt.

“See you tomorrow.” 

Living with sister

Sorry, long post. One of several similar naughty confessions with my sexy sexy sister over the years. She’s 21 now. Last year while my sister was living with me we would sometimes be casually nude or near nude around each other. Before she moved in I told her that I like to be naked a lot and I don’t care if she is naked too if she wants. We also had a talk about me getting an “inappropriate” erection because that was obviously going to happen. lol She just laughed it off and said that she didn’t really care if I got hard and that she was flattered by it. She already knew that she had been getting me off for years but now there would be no hiding it. Anyway, one time after taking an evening shower I came into my livingroom to watch tv or whatever with my sister while I was just wearing a towel. I was sitting across from her to be polite but she asked if I wanted to sit on the big couch with her to be more comfortable. Of course I said yes and sat on the couch with her. I was already starting to get hard at this point but only a little. She was wearing some kind of short shorts or something like that and a tshirt but under a blanket. After a while she decided she wanted to fully stretch out on the couch and I let her put both of her legs in my lap with her knees/calves basically right on my crotch. Like that it didn’t take long for me to start to get fully hard and with nothing but a loose towel between us it was becoming obvious to her too. She didn’t say anything but didn’t move away either so I adjusted myself a little to let my dick slip free of the towel and push directly against the back and sides of her bare legs. I was already oozing pre-cum at this point and it was getting all over her calves and shit. I was actually able to work my dick between her calves and just let it stay there enjoying the light pressure. I pretty sure I could feel her intentionally squeezing it between her legs as I was doing this but not too obvious. I was massaging her legs and thighs a bit now too but that’s something we did for each other all the time. She was still pretending to watch tv or sleep or plain just not notice my hard cock rubbing against her. lol Anyway, I didn’t actually cum but her calves were nice and slick from all the pre-cum as I was very slowly humping my hard dick up and down between my sisters tight skinny little legs. Jesus! That was so heavenly. Got hard right now just remembering it. At some point she pulled her legs back to her side of the couch and I almost fucking shot my load right there. Heh! It was already kinda dark by now but I got up from the couch without the towel and walked back to my room completely naked with a throbbing hardon ready to explode. In my room I immediately started to jack off with the door open and came almost right away. I just fell asleep right there on my bed fully naked with the door open. At some point I heard her walking past my room to go to the bathroom but nothing else happened that night. The next day she asked if I enjoyed the movie in a teasing kinda way. I said yeah but honestly I still have no idea what movie we were watching that night. My gf didn’t like it much but letting my hot af little sister live with me for 6 months was one of the best things I ever did.

Anonymous

I Like It When You Do That (Isaac Lahey)

Originally posted by teenwolf--imagines

Summary: However this ends, he’s a fool if he does nothing or a fool if he gives into the sweetness of temptation.

Author’s Note: I’m glad I’m finally done with this story. I had debated on a while on how far to take this. But I’m glad that I decided to push the envelope and go all the way with the smut. Enjoy!


Nights like this were always innocent.

They would curl up under the covers of her bed and watch movies until they both fell asleep. Suspicions never rose when they spent hours together behind her bedroom door; often times it wouldn’t open until the early hours of the morning and it was time for Isaac to leave so he could head home to get ready for school. It was entirely innocent…until it wasn’t. Her parents should have expected that it would turn out that way eventually.

The night starts out like every other one. They had watched two movies and thirty minutes into the third (some French film remake with an obscenely long title), she was sound asleep. The movie was a thriller; it was on the subtler side but the heroine was hot and that kept his attention mostly.

Then there was a sex scene. Of course there was a sex scene. Not that he was complaining too much. The guy okay looking, but seeing the actress naked, enjoying being eaten out, being thrust into from behind—the whole scene made his cock twinge with desire.

Isaac feels a shift beside him. Looking down, he sees [Name] burrowing herself further into the covers of her bed. Lying on her side with one arm tucked under the pillow and her legs pulled towards her stomach, she looked like an angel. She looked so peaceful (and not his girl) and there was a desire in his blood to touch her. It should never have been a thought that entered his mind. It was wrong. She was his friend and asleep, and he was turned on by a movie. He should have just gone to bathroom to jack off. Isaac licks his lips as his eyes travel across her sleeping form.

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This Is War (Part 2 of Runaway Ballerina)

Pairing: Dean x sister!reader, Sam x sister!reader, Castiel x sister!reader 

Warnings: Fluff, fluff and fluff

Summary: Chaos and war within the bunker between siblings.

Part 1

For those of who wanted a part 2 here you go!!! Hope you guys don’t mind that I tagged you in Part 2.  @sandlee44 @supdarling @queenpammy13 @evyiione @radstudenttravelerblr @straightasdeanwinchester @violinmyhead @xfanqirlinq @cozyjaws @meeshw777 @sassyspn67 @winchesters-favorite-girl @i-is-small-winchester @dauntless-dean @moose-and-sqruille-lover @galifreyanotaku @skeletoresinthebasement @babygoatsaf

Originally posted by green-circles

It’s late at night around 3:15 am and Cas is sitting in the bunker library reading some lure on witches to try and help Y/N get back to normal. He suddenly hears a chair next to him scrape the wood floors. He slowly looks to his right to see a tiny Y/N sitting on her calves with her dark brown hair all over the place with one of Dean t-shirts as pajamas, her eyes red and puffy.

“What’s wrong? Why are you not sleeping?” He ask.

“I has a bad dream. I don’t wanna sleep no more.”

“Why don’t you go to Sam or Dean’s room?”

“I don’t wanna wake them up, I usually went to my daddy’s bed bu-but he’s not here.” She says looking down. Cas face softens hearing this from her. “Castill” she says. Cas chuckles hearing her butcher his name. “Castiel.” He corrects. “Case.. cast…Castie.” She says frowning and Cas sits there smiling. “Can you take me for a drive?” She ask. “A drive?”

“When I can’t sleep my daddy takes me on a ride.”

“Well I don’t have a car.”

“We can take baby.”

“I don’t think Dean would like it if I took his car that he considers as an infant.”

“Well, Dean told me you’re baby in a trench coat and that you have wings like a fairy. So can you fly me someplace?” Cas frowns at this remembering the day at the diner. “I’m don’t think that’s a good idea Y/N.”

“Please Castie!” She begs. “I don’t wanna see anymore monsters in my dreams.” She whimpers. He looks down at her pouty face and sighs. “Only for a few minutes.” He gives in. She gasp reaching up for him. He picks her up and zaps them to a field. Cas sets her on his lap and they both look up at the stars. “How many stars do you think there are?” Cas ask pointing up.

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9

Tumblr wants formatting and quality only to suffer, but, y’know, it’s Pride month, so here’s a scene from the graphic novel that @queerjew and I have been working on for the past… forever. It’s been highkey collaborative, but for the most part Dean did linework, traditional print lettering, and backgrounds, and I did the script, colors, and the tactile overlays (not shown).

It’s called Family is Always There, and it’s the first in a trilogy following a crew of queer disabled kids and teenagers as they navigate tricky situations like relationships, starting HRT without the input of actual medical doctors, and fighting hordes of horse-sized locusts with human faces! Did I mention it’s the end of the world? Because it’s the end of the world.

Anyway, we’re doing a bunch of cool stuff with this I’m really proud of, including roughs of a full-color edition with thermographic embossed braille and tactile graphics, which, as far as we know, nobody has ever tried to do before with a graphic novel. So, you know, no pressure.

Image descriptions under the cut.

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Chapter 3 of Fanboy is posted!

Ao3 Link

The whole chapter below the cut

This is also an animation I did from one of the scenes in this chapter :)

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She Tastes like Candlelight 

MSR

Explicit 

It starts with, of all things, a pair of old jeans and a t-shirt.

Logically, he knows it doesn’t make sense. She comes to work in form-fitted jackets that go tight about her waist. She’s been foregoing the baggy slacks in favor of skirts that stop just below the knees, with nylons clinging to the defined musculature of her calves; he’s pretty sure he can count on one hand the number of times he’s seen her wear shoes other than heels, excluding the clinical, white shoes she wears with her scrubs during autopsies.

He’s seen the looks she gets. Sometimes, it’s during an interview, when a witness’s gaze will linger just a little too long on her bustline, and her hand will go up and fiddle with her necklace, her arm blocking her chest in subtle defiance. Other times, it’s men on the streets of the city, shouting out obscenities to her, having the audacity to call her “baby,” and “sweetheart,” and he fights the urge to yell right back, brandishing his badge and his gun, wanting to scare the misogyny right out of the bones of anyone who thinks they’re entitled to her body, but he knows that she would find it condescending. “Thank you, but I can handle myself, Mulder,” she’d say, and it’s not that he thinks she can’t—he just doesn’t want her to have to.

And still other times, the looks come not from strangers on the sidewalk, or from people he can reduce to photos in a casefile, but from their peers. Educated, talented men who transform themselves into slobbery, teenage boys when sitting adjacent to her in meetings, eyeing her with an inappropriate hunger while she jots down notes in the margins of her agenda sheet. More than once, Mulder has found himself in the elevator with a man who will look down at Scully, and then catch Mulder’s eye over the top of her head, just so that he can wink, including him in some inside joke he has no interest being a part of.

He supposes that he empirically knows that Scully is attractive—it’s more or less objective fact—but he’s never allowed himself to notice. He’s trained himself to observe her through a filter. He considers her appearance through what he aptly names the Sexual Harassment Video Gaze. He quickly shuts down any thought that could be used as an example in a training tape on inappropriate office behavior.

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So as some of you may know, I have finished acowar. Now that my mind is sufficiently ruined, I present to you this fic about the High Lord of the Winter Court and his mate.

This doesn’t really spoil anything in acowar, rather than their existence. So read if you want, acowar not necessarily needed!

This was requested by @ignite-my-love who is suffering as much as I am when it comes to this bloody book. 

***

How could this be?

Fifty years, and the wretched Amarantha was destroyed by a… mortal? A human?

Viviane’s hands shook, her breath coming out in sporadic sheer clouds as she hyperventilated. She was on the floor, her legs too unstable to carry her any longer. She would see him again, her beautiful High Lord, her love.

She was going to kick his ass. And kiss him. Not necessarily in that order.

I’ve loved you, since we were children. I will always love you, and being your friend is, and always will be, my greatest achievement. I beg of you, protect what is left, Vivane, and I will see you soon enough.

He had not seen her soon enough. Kallias had projected that to her the moment he knew there was no escaping Amarantha’s clutches, and let her protect their haven, which she tirelessly did, while he sacrificed himself to that wench. It wasn’t until he confessed his love to her that she knew the extent of her feelings for him. Her love for him was like the cauldron, and he was the sorcerer reaching far down into her, stirring her soul and wielding her being. She was utterly his, and she thought she would never be able to tell him. That was, until, Feyre Cursebreaker, former prisoner of the Spring Court, had shattered Amarantha’s deadly reign.

She rose to her feet, supporting herself on the marble columns of Kallias’ palace. He would be here soon, and when he did, he would see her standing – fighting – as she always had Before.

Because now there was a Before. It used to be Before and After the War. Now, it was Before and After Amarantha.

She looked out the wide, glassless, window. This was her home, and it would remain that way. The vast expanse of rolling white and treacherous mountains calmed her faltering breaths. She had never stopped to think about this moment - her reunion with her love. Had dwelled many time of how she was going to get here, the plans she concocted, the atrocities she committed in saving her people, but never let herself think – dream, hope, wish – about this moment.

She was still wearing the filthy pants, tunic and fur cloak she had been for the past eight days. It was spattered in blood and dirt and mud and Mother knows what else, but when she was constantly like this she didn’t see the point of washing. She thought maybe should change, to present herself nicely for Kallias, and then she snorted at the thought. That idiot could see her parading around in a pink tutu and nothing else and she still wouldn’t feel embarrassment. She was too far gone for that. She laughed lightly at the thought of Kallias’ face if he saw her gallivanting around, breasts free and lower half covered by hideous tulle. He would tell her to put some clothes on before she freezed, and she would tell him to shove his shiny shoes up his ass.

“Is something funny? It’s been a while since I’ve heard a joke.”

The voice stopped her thoughts. Stopped her breathing. Stopped her heart.

She turned her head, and there he was.

Kallias.” Her voice broke.

“Vivi-”

She didn’t let him finish, just sprinted the few paces between them and collided into him - throwing her arms around his neck, kissing him fiercely. His arms went to her waist, lifting her off the floor as he returned her embrace and kiss. Her legs went around him, and her hands tangled in his white hair.

She may have remained in the Winter Court the last fifty years, but now she was finally home.

His lips moved to her face and neck, kissing any part he could reach.

“I love you, you bloody bastard. Never leave me again or I’ll freeze your balls off and feed them to the bears.” She meant it with the upmost sincerity, but that didn’t stop her from whimpering her words.

“I’ve missed you more than the drylands miss rain, more than the stars miss night, more than-”

“I love you, Kallias. I love you.” She smashed her lips against his again, and she could taste the snow of his scent, the pine that always reminded her of him. She could taste the salt of their collective tears, and feel his heart racing as he pulled her further against him. He walked them forward, still holding up her body and soul, and pressed her against the cold wall. It was a good release, her body become so hot from his touch she wouldn’t be surprised if she left steam in her wake. His hands freely roamed under her coat, slipping above her shirt to touch her oh-so-warm skin.

“You kept me alive, Viviane.” He shuddered. “Not my body, but my resolve, my soul. Every moment was just another until I could return to you. I love you. I should’ve – I should’ve told you before but I was scared.” He rested his forehead to her, and her legs were once again holding her up.

“What’s done is done, never spend another moment of what-ifs, my love. We are here now, we can rectify this now.” She swallowed hard, her emotion tightening her throat.

He placed a sweet, barely there kiss to the skin just under her ear. She could feel his whole body trembling as he slowly got to his knees, pressing his face to her stomach. “Viviane, be my wife. Please, I’ll marry you tonight. I never want there to be another moment where I am not completely and utterly yours.”

A choked sob escaped her at the question, and he looked at her not in alarm, but in understanding.

“Not tonight,” she gasped.

He nodded, but remained on his knees in front of her. His calloused hands were around her calves now, rubbing smooth circles on the tight muscles there.

“We will not marry tonight, because you will make me your wife now. I’ll change into a dress, and you can summon a priestess, and within the hour we will be bound.”

His eyes pierced into her like she was a Goddess he had prayed to for eternity, and maybe, just maybe, she was. “A dress? You could look like a lumberjack and I’d still want you.”

“The dress isn’t for you, silly male.” She patted his head jokingly. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve worn something elegant? Far too long, is the answer, and I plan to look ravishing when I take you as my own.”

*

He had devoured her.

Worshipped her.

Made love to her.

Their souls had sung to one another as their bodies connected. And as Kallias and Viviane were at their highest state of pleasure, the bond had snapped into place, sealing them together everlasting.



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