her clothers

STARVING - a. andrews smut series /part three\

PART TWO! - read before this part  
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO KJ!!!  OUR CINNAMON ROLL, GOD BLESS HIS SOUL’



Groaning, Y/N woke up wrapped in Archie’s arm, his heavy weight pressing over her. She shifted slightly and his grip tightened, pulling her closer. Locked in his arms, she could do nothing but look over his open window. The curtains were flying from the blow of the wind and the sun was beginning to rise. Morning sunlight was slipping through the room slowly. 

“Archie?”  she softly whispered in his ear. His head was buried at the crook of her neck and she could feel the way his warm breath tickled her skin. He was breathing her in. 

She snaked her hand around his bare back and ran her fingers through his hair. Their naked legs were tangled under the sheets and she couldn’t help but feel as if she was stuck in his love. Locked in his strong arms. 

His arms tightened around her and she felt her naked bosoms pressing harder against his hard chest. Then his hand slowly ran up and down her bare back, his calloused fingers softly brushing against her soft skin. Tingles prickled under her skin and she felt it crawling all the way up to her spine She was helplessly melting against him. 

“Archie?” she whispered in a breath. “Wake up, I need to take a shower and go. Your dad’s coming back today.” 

She heard him groan muffling into the pillow beside her head. Nuzzling his face into her hair, he took a deep breath of her scent. “My back hurts,” he moaned. 

Pulling away from him, she sat up and the duved revealed her ample breasts and pink buds. She leaned over him and getly rubbed his back with her hand. “Where does is hurt?” she asked softly, concern lacing in her voice/

“My muscle hurt,” he exhaled in a breath, “Need your touch.” 

Her eyes were filled with concern as she looked over him. She sighed and moved, hovering over his back as she ran her fingers all over his shoulders, easing his tensed and aching muscles all the way down his back. Straddling his back and easing his pain away, she heard his deep throaty moan purring she she felt herself warming from the sound of his deep voice. 

“Fuck,” Archie cursed silently under his breath. It wasn’t that she was really good at it. Her crotch was rubbing against his lower back and he was feeling the way she was creaming underneath the friction. He could literally smell her musk. She was riding him helplessly and she didn’t even know she was pleasuring herself in the proces. 

“Kitten,” he groaned. 

Confused, she stopped and maneuvered over his back. Leaning close to his head, she whispered in his ear, “Are you alright?” 

Growling, he rolled over and turned around, resting his back upon the surface of the bed. She gasped once she felt his morning hard on pressing against her core. He gripped her thighs and pressed her down upon his length. Rubbing. Aching. She moaned softly and leaned down to capture his lips. Her hair flowed down like curtains. Strong arms embranced her small waist as she felt herself falling for him. Deeper. 

She moaned to his lips, She couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help but rub herself against him. And feel herself soaking him. Milking him. Suddenly, the atmosphere of the room feel too hot. She was sweating slightly. A quiet moan of ecstasy escaped her parted lips when his fingers found her core and rode her to the edge of the peak. 

Breathless, she collapsed upon him. Her heaving breasts pressing against his hard chest. His strong arms came around her and his calloused hands moved to gently rub her back. She flattened her head upon his chest and she could hear the sound of his heart beating fast. 

“Breathe, my love,” he murmured to her head. His hand reached up to stroke her hair and she could have sworn sh purred at his touch. Like literally a kitten begging and aching for his love and affection. 

“I thought your back hurts,” she muttered under her breath after awhile. 

He smiled to himself, “Well, your little hands did magic.” 

She smiled faintly and kissed his chest. “I love you,” she murmured softly to his skin, speaking to his steady beating heart. 

His heart fluttered. Without warning, he rolled them over and he hovered above her. With both arms bracing her head, he kissed her forehead then her nose then her soft plump lips and all the way down to her chin. Almost instinctively, she gave him more access as he kissed down her nec, sucking the sensitive skin below her ear. 

“I love you too, my little kitten,” he whispered so softly in her ear the he felt the way she shivered. He trailed his lips lover and kissed down her chest, giving pleasure to each pink nipple that was aching for his lips. Her back arched as she bit her bottom lip, trying to suppress a moan that was threatening to escape her lips. She rolled her head back and ran her fingers through his hair. When he lightly bit her aching bud, she gasped softly and gripped his hair. 

For a moment, he paused and pulled back slightly to look into her eyes. “Can I steal you tonight?” 

Y/N laughed. “What?” 

He gave her a grin and it too her to breath away. “Come over tonight, again.” 

“Where?” 
“At my place,” he said. “We’ll watch movies. Everything you like. Tonight will be all about you. Nothing else. I promise.” 

She hummed for a moment. “Don’t think I should ask my mom first?” she asked. 

“Should you?” 

Before she could answer, she heard the sound of knocking upon Archie’s door. Shocked beyond expectations, she pushed Archie off off her and then flee all the way to the bathroom. Before entering the bathroom, she saw him winking at her and she just laughed silently as she watched him still lying in his bed. 

Taking a deep breath he cleared his throat. “Come in dad.” 

The door opened and Archie watched silently as his father entered the room. 

“Had a good sleep son?” 

He beamed and sighed  dreamily. “Never been better” he answered, honestly. 

Fred Andrews just nod his head, and gave him a smile then walked to the door. Before softly closing the door behind him then Fred paused, turned around, and said, “Oh, and please tell Y/N if she’s planing to stay the night and leave her clothers all over the floor we can always make her a wardobe or something”


Here we go guys! The day of Kj’s birthday is the last day of starving series.
I hope you liked it and I have more things coming soom.

Tell me what’s your favorite moment :’)
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@dreaming-of-the-lost  

anonymous asked:

I come ask for "81." We're in the middle of the thunderstorm and you want to stop and feel the rain? "I love your writing.

I don’t know what to fucking do with you guys, thank you so much for your kudos and I am so afraid of letting you guys down with such shitty writing… this prompt had so much potential and I feel like I didn’t live up to it. But it’s still so fun to write! Please enjoy ♥

Uraraka had left her umbrella at her dorms.

Again.

And she was in front of the magnus opus of all thunderstorms. Again.

It wasn’t her fault, in all honesty. After class had finished, she had rushed to the dorms, gotten all books she could handle and sprinted all the way to the library. When she had done this almighty marathon, sun was still glaring down on her and heat was searing on the streets, people dehydratated and seeking for the sea to drink from– which was a true paradox in itself, but that was a whole other story.

But then, just as she was going downstairs, the annoying face of the man from the weathercast flashed right before her eyes, and grimaced at the tragic hurry of hers to get things done instead of thinking her steps through. Once she was in the face of thunder and downpour, her face was all but glee and smiles.

People rushed in front of her to catch a taxi, some of them scurried away underneath their umbrellas while mumbling about an incoming fierce weather– which Uraraka didn’t enjoy much because, you know it was dangerous and she was a bit frail against the incoming winds. So, instead of doing what normal people were doing, instead of calling someone to pick her up or just make a run for it, she waited.

She stood in front of the library entrance, fifteen minutes away from Yuuei but a lifetime apart from her dorms and it dawned on her that without an umbrella, she would most probably make it home drenched.

But staying wasn’t an option either, so while weighing the ups and downs of her decision, a familiar mate of hers, one she wasn’t expecting to find, came to view.

“Yo, Uraraka.”

Deep in thought, Uraraka only registered the deep voice – which sounded more like a groan in her mind, as he was constantly annoyed at every living breathing creature around him. She slowly lifted her eyes to him: black sweater and hoodie on, his big trousers, sneakers, backpack and the most unbelieving grimace she had ever seen him wear. She at least hoped it would match with his whole demeanor that day too, as she had no time or temper to deal with his tantrums and the like.

She waved at him meekly, suddenly feeling tiny seeing how he was mildly covered from the rain and she was standing there, thin white clothes on and wary for the rain. “Good evening, Bakugou. Such fantastic weather we are–”

“You have no fucking umbrella.” stated he, trying to shame her, probably? but the effect was pretty much the opposite, as he sounded annoyed at her lack of prevision. “And there is a thunderstorm coming through.”

She started messing with her hair, that silly effect he was starting to have on her lately and she absolutely despised him for making her so flustered with battling his scarlet eyes. “Tell me about it. You at least can protect your hair from the downpour. All I have is my books.”

He stared at her from head to toe, making her feel a bit uncomfortable. Bakugou had always been one to act bluntly and shamelessly, but the fact that he was blatantly checking her out was making her heart do all kinds of twists. “Your clothing is a bit too damn white.” spat he, squinting at her. “You could have at least have brought some clothes that wouldn’t let the fucking public see your underwear.”

Yes, blunt fucking much. “W-What–” he started fondling with his sweater. “what is even that about?”

Whatever insults she had to throw at his perverted side were thrown off the window when he handed her his sweater. “Stop bitching about it and let’s get going. I’m not gonna be responsible for a breeze sweeping you off your feet.”

Blinking an alarming amount of times, she ended up accepting the piece of clothing and put it on while he started walking away, expecting her to catch up. Uraraka stumbled her way to him with an awkward smile, trailing behind him. “Thanks for the sweater!”

“Don’t mention this to anybody or you’re dead meat, Uraraka.”

She giggled and marched by his side for a few seconds in silence, the pitter patter of the rain and rolling thunder above them looming over them as a chaotic blanket of fear and noise, making her jump in surprise sometimes and Bakugou glare her for being too damn sensitive.

There was a moment when he turned around to glare at her and a ugly scar marring his jaw caught her eye, imprinting itself on her bland mind and making all kinds of feelings spark within her. No matter how far he was fom her– which wasn’t much actually, because he liked her proximity and being a guard to her felt kind of nice, the image of that scar being marked on his perly skin didn’t bode well with her.

She tried to keep the thought in until the image started blinking too much. “Where did you get that scar?”

Bakugou’s brow wrinkled and he looked at her with angry questioning, all kinds of mixed feelings stirring in his eyes as he looked at the little girl wearing his soaked sweater. “What scar?”

“The one…” she traced the shape of her round jaw. “on your jaw.”

He looked onward again and his shoulders tensed a little, but he still remained elegant as she knew him regardless. The answer came out as stale and low, the name he murmured somehow intriguing and suggesting that the reason behind his jaw still haunted his nightmares.

“Overhaul.”

“… Oh.”

Of course, she had heard of this battle. The showdown had been traumatizing, and that was a petty adjective compared to the monstrosity that the fight had been for all heroes. She hadn’t been present during the final battle against the pinnacle of evil, mostly because she had been out of comission once Toga got her bloody hands on her– thank goodness Bakugou had been there to beat that little bitch to the ground before anything else happened. 

Now that she remembered, they had been so busy with class that she hadn’t found the time to thank him.

“I owe you a big thanks, you know.” he halted his steps when he felt that she wasn’t by his side anymore. “Toga would have done horrible things to my body if she had–”

A shadow passed before his eyes and then, his hand covered her mouth. It was now when Uraraka realized that his hair was completely weighed down by the water and that his eyes were terrifyingly dark when spikes covered those crimsom irises. “Shut it.”

She blinked at him, feeling him slightly tremble. Something was going on under that mask of bravery and rudeness. “S’alright, I’m not a douche.”

She giggled, but didn’t run to him again. Her hands grasped the hem of the sweat, his sweaty scent overwhelming her senses as she looked at her feet, another habit of hers that she carried from her childhood to the very same moment. Rain fell hard around her, and Uraraka could hear his steps against the puddles fading away, walking away from her.

Somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to care. All she could think of now was how she had forgotten about the blonde devil in the midst of the flying exams, the ticking clocks, and how he hadn’t probably been cherished enough after his brave stand against Overhaul because he was considered to be strong enough to shoulder the pain– apparently, everyone thought he was a big boy who could withstand all injuries.

But he wasn’t. Bakugou wasn’t as old or strong as people deemed him to be. No one had thanked him. No one thought they needed to.

Meanwhile, she had almost died while doing not even half as he did, given up halfway– and she had been called a hero for defeating a minor foe. Bakugou had a scar on his jaw, what did she have? And here he was, standing in the rain, uncovered for her, again taking the dirty job.

She hated this.

“Oi,” his voice called her from a few meters away, his shirt drenched– his muscles were tight from beneath the wet fabric, which cloaked him lika a second skin. He had never looked so beautiful to her. “ we are in the middle of a thunderstorm, you planning on stand–”

His breath hitched mid-way as she removed the hoodie from her protected head. “You are alive, Bakugou.”

Bakugou’s eyebrows sunk deep in focus, waiting for what shit she’d come up with. His eyes drunk from her petite form while taking a step closer to her, then stopping and staring again. His red embers were thriving in the rain as he remembered what hell it had been to see Uraraka so beaten up, so close to death– and he wondered if that exact feeling had been what she was musing over, if that feeling was cluthing her heart so tightly like it did to his.

But the rain never stopped, only clothered her more. “I am so glad…!”

“Uraraka–”

“Don’t you realize?” asked she to the air, looking up to the sky. “We are breathing, we are here.”

Yes, he was more aware than ever now. After the hurricane of the final fight, after tending for his wounds and fighting his nightmares for long weeks, no feeling of peace had dawned on him like this moment did. She was shaking, a tight smile sketched on her frail skin, all of her soaked to the bone– but fuck, she was alive.

He hadn’t considered until now that he had saved her, she was alive, he was alive– them both had a future now. Only now did it feel like their torment was over. And suddenly, he couldn’t find his words anymore, and the rain above them could fall as hard as it wanted to, his heart would never stop throbbing inside his chest.

And suddenly, in the middle of the worst of rains and as thunder hovered dangerously near them, he stepped forward and she threw herself to his arms, hugging him tight to her. “I don’t mind the rain, Bakugou.” Uraraka slightly pulled away and looked up to the sky again. Meanwhile, Bakugou watched the raindrops clattering on her pearly skin. 

He cleared his throat, suffocating in crashing relief, voice thick with emotion as he spoke. “We can enjoy it… we are alive now.”

It dawned on him now. They could dance under the thunderstorm, waltz slowly to the howling wind and laugh to incoming hurricanes– she was alive, in his arms now, and everything felt much sharper when she was by his side. Life felt sharper when she was in his arms. 

So he hugged her, feeling choked up while rain weighed them down to the ground, thunder striking the ground streets away– but how could he care when she was in his arms and life seemed so bright when her words lingered in the air? “I fucking hate you for making me so sentitive, you damn minx.”

That was Bakugou language for: thank you for being alive, for hanging on and being so damn pestering. The words echoed and bounced in his throat, but reflected in her eyes as she obviously caught the meaningful look he was giving her as he caressed her hair– god almighty, wasn’t this woman a weakness of his.

“Thank you for surviving, Bakugou.”

And when she pulled away and grinned at him, finally at peace with him, his brain went into meltdown. His heart soared and floated away, and made him wonder about why he had been using his hands to blow things away with his quirk, when he could use them to caress her, adore her, worship her. Air was knocked out of his lungs, and this destructive man was rendered useless and reduced to putty in her hands.

He didn’t wanna destroy anymore– he would treasure her. 

And in the middle of the storm, the eye of the hurricane, the loop of a tsunami or the roll of an earthquake– he would swear on his life he would devote his life to thank her for showing him what life really meant.

“Yeah.” he hugged her close to his chest again, his stale voice hiding the emotional turmoil going on inside his heart. “And thank you, Uraraka.”

For existing, for surviving, for smiling and laughing– he gave his everything to her under a thunderstorm, no sound hearable other than their hearts beating to the same harmony.

So Rachel’s clothes...

I think that Rachel’s clothes show us where her loyalties lie or at least where we’re supposed to think they lie. So far, she has worn pure white in episode 2 in her full oB zen mode when all she wanted was to appear like she wanted to help.

Then in episode 3, while she was talking to Kira, she wore black and white. White because Kira trusted her and black because we were still supposed to think that her intentions were rather shady.

Keep reading

i’ve started to read “Falling" fanfic by fantasiawandering many people are talking about. it imbues me with warm senses and it seems i cant stop picturize it.

here’s the 15-minutes-healing scene of "From the Sewer (Epilogue)” chapter :)

i changed the fact that she put on her clothers after shower in lair (sorry author). what if Splinter gave her Tang Shen’s haori mm?

msvampire-rp-deactivated2015090  asked:

It was 2am when Dusk knocked on Lalna's door. She slumped down, drained of energy, her clothers ripped and her head was bleeding. She was bruised and battered, trying to keep conscious.

“D-Dusk! ” He shouted when he saw her “what happened!? ” He was worried and scared about what had happened and had immediately helped her onto the sofa.