hip lean

@mollokoplus 97 I’ll pick you up at the airport


He examines the wound just above the hip bone, leaning against the bathroom sink. The stitches are fresh, made by a nurse. He peeks under the bandage, phone jammed between his shoulder and cheek. Gaby waits his answer fifteen hundred miles away. “It is small, neat,” he lies.

Gaby huffs, her own phone jammed like Illya’s, the curly cord stretching from the other room. The fluffy rug tickles her bare thighs when she paints the last toenail. “Will it leave a scar?” she wants to know.

“No,” Illya lies again. He sets the bandage back and covers it up.

“You deserve a scar. It was stupid to go by yourself,” she mutters. Her knees bend when she leans forward to blow on her nails. “Stupid and irresponsible,” she carries on. She has the right to say so, she hasn’t done anything irresponsible all day.

Illya wants to argue, but the stitches remind that Gaby is right.

“You back tomorrow?” Gaby asks. “I’ll pick you up at the airport,” she promises as soon as Illya has given her a short hum. She forgets about her toes and grabs the phone. “I want to see myself how small and neat that cut really is.”

It hurts when Illya frowns to his mirror image. He wonders will Gaby be more upset about the real size of the wound or the black eye, already swollen shut, he hasn’t even mentioned yet.


Send a number for drabble!

Another thing that gives me heartburn when I think about it:

-Sherlock’s eyes going softly closed and all the tension draining out of his shoulders, leaning down into it, when John kisses him for the first time.

anonymous asked:

Can you improve my outlook on life and write a very drunk draco clinging to Harry please?

(LOL, I love the way you phrased that and also, I love drunk Draco.)

Potter sat there, leaning back in the booth with his arm slung across the back of the faux-leather seat, his shoulders shaking as he threw his head back and laughed at something the Weasel said. Granger shook her head with a smile of fond exasperation and leaned up to kiss her husband’s cheek. The weird blonde (”Loony Lovegood,” his booze-soaked brain provided) was waving her wand over the she-Weasel’s head in circles - ‘cause that’s normal behaviour for her.

Draco supposed that the thought of going over there ought to feel intimidating - he was completely outnumbered. But perhaps it was because of the eight or so shots of tequila Pansy had dared him into guzzling, or because he was randy as fuck.

Or because he’d just stood there hiding behind the cloak stand by the door and gazing at Potter like a lovesick halfwit far too long - he was no coward. Not anymore.

So he squared his shoulders and marched across the bar, tripping only twice, the second time because of that swaying oaf who’d nearly knocked him over.

Potter blinked up at him with his mouth slightly open.

“Potter.” Draco felt vaguely triumphant that his voice came out steady and calm - and Potter’s form was only very slightly blurry. “Potter,” he repeated, blinking slowly.

“Malfoy,” Potter replied cautiously, one eyebrow sliding up the scarred forehead. “What’re you doing here?”

“I can be here if I want to be here ‘cause I want to be here–” Draco was being very loud - his ears rang a little. Potter scrambled out of his seat, throwing a hasty glance at his friends before coming up to Draco and grabbing his elbow hard. Draco scowled around at the group - Weasley was scowling back, Granger looked thoughtful, she-Weasley looked completely bewildered and Loony, well Loony hadn’t noticed him yet; she was peering into she-Weasley’s ear as though she’d lost something in there.

Potter dragged him away a few paces. “What the hell?”

Draco tried to yank his arm out of his grip but nearly ended up overbalancing and falling onto his arse instead - Potter’s grip tightened.

“Let me go!” Draco slurred, stepping closer to Potter.

“What’re you doing here?” Potter repeated softly.

“I like you,” Draco proclaimed boldly. “I’ve always liked you. You never noticed. You have terrible eyesight.”

Potter pursed his lips, a faint line appearing between his thick brows. “I know I do,” he said, indicating to his smudged glasses.

“I like you,” Draco said once more, his voice decidedly breathy now - ugh. He stepped closer and, oh Merlin, rubbed their noses together. “So much,” he sighed, pressing their cheeks together for a swift second.

“Oh?” Potter didn’t seem put out at all. After staring steadily at him with his stupid green eyes twinkling merrily, Potter asked, “What d’you want, Draco?”

“To go home with you.” Oh shit, he was going to kill Pansy.

Potter simply continued to twinkle at him. “Well, I’m not going to say no to that,” he said very seriously, finally releasing Draco’s elbow to slide both his arms around Draco’s waist and tug him closer.

Draco gasped as he was pressed flush against Potter. He could caught a whiff of spicy aftershave, Firewhiskey and mint; he pushed both hands into the mess on Potter’s head and leaned forward to whisper, “I want you to fuck me.” He pressed his face into the crook of Potter’s neck.

Potter’s arms tightened, the world closed in around him until he was being squeezed almost to the point of pain, and then he was being pulled through dense blackness.


Everything ached. His stomach ached, his back ached, his toenails ached - his eyelashes ached. His head felt like it had exploded and had been put back together before exploding again; even his hair hurt.

He was too close to the sun, his retinas were on fire. The sheets below him were softer than a cloud and smelt pleasantly flowery - his stomach twisted.

He kicked himself out of bed, fell over onto his hands and knees and then half-crawled, half-ran to the bathroom until he was heaving into the toilet. It was another ten minutes before he was able to make himself stand, piss, gargle with half a bottle of mouthwash and wash his face - which also hurt.

Clad only in his boxers he stumbled through the house, following the horrible sound quality of the Wireless and the utterly heavenly scent of fresh coffee.

“Coffee!” he croaked, throwing himself into a chair so heavily that he slipped off the polished wood and landed on his bum. Potter turned around, a spatula with a bright red handle in one hand, took one look at him and nearly fell down laughing.

“Good morning!” he virtually screamed. Draco rested his cheek on the chair and groaned hoarsely, feebly pressing his hands to his ears.

“Coffee,” he whimpered. “What happened to my head? Coffee,” he pleaded once more.

Grinning widely, Potter poured him a large mugful. Shaking his head slightly as he walked over to the table, he set the steaming mug on the table, reached down and nearly lifted Draco off his feet as he helped him onto the chair he’d aimed for. “Let me guess - tequila?”

“I hate Pansy.” Draco wrapped both hands around his jade green mug with the gold polka dots and drew the drink of the Gods closer to him. “I hate tequila. I hate drinking. I hate bars. I hate going out.”

“But you like me.” Potter’s completely deadpan expression made Draco scowl - aarrgh, his face hurt dammit.

“What?” He took a huge gulp and moaned a long, gurgling moan as the gorgeous bitterness spread over his tongue.

“You like me,” Potter said again, leaning a hip against the counter with his arms crossed - he looked on the verge of another bout of laughter.

Draco stared blearily at him for several seconds before fuzzy memories started leaking into his aching brain. Then he let his head thump onto the table with another groan as Potter burst out laughing again.

“I hate everything!” Draco stated miserably. “Stop laughing at me!” His head throbbed when he raised his voice so he promptly shut up.

Potter, still laughing by the way, was loading up a plate with eggs, sausages and strips of bacon fried to crisp perfection - Draco’s stomach rolled and he clamped his mouth shut firmly as the food was set down before him.

Then Draco’s husband cupped his face with both hands, turned his face up and kissed him firmly. “I like you too,” Potter informed Draco.

“I will vomit on you,” Draco threatened.

Potter grinned, kissed his nose and went to get himself a plate of breakfast.


(Any good? ❤️)

Birthday Girl (NSFW/Smut)

Originally posted by dailytomholland

Author: Arfrona-and-Marvel

Word Count: 2965

Warnings: Cursing/Sex

Pairings: Peter Parker x Reader

Type: Fluff, Smut

Note: Virgin reader and Peter :) 

Requested: nope

——————

Y/N’s POV

Peter covers my eyes with a blindfold and helps me stand up.

“This is kinky, Parker, what are you planning?”

Peter laughs nervously and I feel him getting more timid with his actions.

“Will you stop, Y/N? It’s just to keep the surprise a surprise.”

I giggle at his obviously flustered state from my sex joke.

I let him lead me out of the room to the unknown destination, one hand holding mine and the other on my waist as he gently pushes me along.

“Peterrrrrrr it’s taking so loooooong,” I whine, just to annoy him.

“Just a little farther, Y/N, bear with me here.”

My foot brushes against something soft.

“Is that another gym sock?”

“Uhhhhh… No it isn’t…” There’s a loud shuffle as he tries to kick the offending article away discreetly.

Oh, he’s so adorable when he’s lying.

He stops and lets go of my hand and waist. There’s a soft scrape to my left as he pulls out a chair.

Heh. Pulls out.

“Here ya go, love.” He takes my hand and gently guides me into the seat. He slips and I miss the seat, landing on the soft, carpeted floor instead. There’s a solid thunk as what sounds like Peter’s head collides with the wall.

“OH MY GOD PETER ARE YOU OKAY?” I tear off the blindfold and see the poor boy rubbing his head, where there’s bound to be a bump forming.

“I’ll live.”

“Oh you poor man-child, let me get you some ice.”

I rush towards the kitchen, noting the very nicely set-up dinner table for two.

He must be devastated that he couldn’t properly surprise me.

I stop as I enter the kitchen, trying to process the scene before me.

He hobbles up behind me, trying to stop me.

“Wait, Y/N, don’t go into the- ah shit you’ve seen it.”

I look around to see the room decorated with strings of lights and roses.

“Oh, Peter. You shouldn-” Peter kisses me before I could finish my sentence.

“You like it?” He asks as he pulls me closer for another kiss, deeper than the last.

I pull away before nodding, “Yes, Peter, I love it. Thank you.”

He beams at me before leading me to the table and pulling out a chair for me.

“My princess,” he jokes, gesturing for me to take a seat.

I sarcastically bow, “My knight.”

—–

After dinner, I stand up to help clean up the dishes.

Peter shoos me away and tells me to sit down while he takes care of it.

I don’t bother arguing with him, because I know fighting with him would be pointless with his stubbornness.

I stay seated while he collects the dishes and kisses my nose before leaving to wash them.

I watch him walk away and smile to myself as I take a rose from the vase on dining table and twirl it in my hands.

I giggle to myself as I think about our past two years together.

How sweet Peter was with his cute pickup lines and our weekly movie dates.

How shy he is when we kiss and how much of a gentleman he is.

I continue to reminisce until I see Peter standing in the doorway.

His cheeks are red and his hands are shaking a little.

He’s nervous.

“Peter, love, are you alright?” I ask.

He gives me a half smile and he walks over slowly, his body language screaming nervousness.

“Peter?”

“I, uh, I have one more gift for you,” he says.

“Peter! This is already so much, please that’s enough,” I laugh and I stand up to hug him.

He hesitates before hugging me back and now I see how nervous he really is.

“Peter? What’s wrong?” I ask, noticing that his legs are shaking.

He looks away from me as he reaches into his pocket and gives me a small index card with the letter V written on it.

Oh.

I look up at him questionably and he rubs the back of his neck, his face slowly acquiring the color of the roses on the table.

“It’s um. I-I, uh,” Peter stumbles.

“I get it Peter, V-Card,” I look up at him and smile before kissing his chin and then his nose.

“It’s a very unique present, Peter,” I say as I lean closer to Peter and kiss him again. He places his hands gently on my hips.

I lean back and smile, “So I can cash this in anytime I want?” I ask.

His face reddens a little before he nods.

“How about right now?” I ask slowly, hoping he would get a hint and suggest something.

He looks at me in the eye for a few moments before breaking contact and looks down at his feet.

“I’ve got another surprise for you, love,” Peter says, reaching over to the counter and giving me the blindfold again.

I look at him suspiciously before putting the blindfold on again.

“Just trust me, Y/N,” Peter says softly. I relax a little and reach out to hold his hand as he leads the way.

I am assaulted with a barrage of smells as we turn into a room, where everything sounds slightly muffled, as if it’s filled with soft furniture. My feet brush against… rose petals? I smell my favorite scented candles as well as… Febreze. Lots of Febreze.

Dammit Parker why don’t you clean this house more often?

His hands leave my shoulders for a few seconds and I hear some shuffling around me, no doubt he’s cleaning up whatever’s been left strewn around his ro-

The blindfold falls off suddenly and I’m left shocked at the scene in front of me.

Though I’ve been in his room a million times before, I’ve never seen it this clea-

Romantic. It’s never been this romantic.

Everything’s been swapped or covered with a red velvet and the lights are off, leaving only the candles to light the room. A gasp  escapes my lips. Peter, who is in the process of furiously trying to shove what looks to be a red and blue suit into the closet, whips his head around, eyes wide open.

“It fell off? Shit, now I can’t badmouth the baddies anymore about their lousy knots… Anyways, surprise?” he tries with a tight smile.

God, he’s so adorable when stuff goes wrong.

“Peter… just ask me…”

“Well, I mean you don’t have to, but… I…” Peter tries to start but fails to finish his sentence as I

lean closer, until our noses are almost touching. We stay that way, looking into each other's’ eyes for a while.

“Hi,” Peter greets me.

“Are you going to kiss me yet?” I ask, slightly impatiently. Face redder, than the cushions, he does just that.

He makes the first move, turning his head and closing the space between us. My lips meet his, agonizingly slowly. His hands cup my face and pull me closer, and I return the kiss with a passion I didn’t know I had. Our lips locked, he pulls us down onto the bed. One of his hands finds its way into my hair while the other one grasps my neck. My own hands find their way under his shirt and around the back of his head. He bites my lip, accidentally, and I jerk back, not expecting the bite.

“Oh my god Y/N I’m so sorry oh my god are you okay oh my god are you bleeding?” he babbles, moving his head around to check my lips.

I quickly run my tongue over my lips to check for blood

“I’m okay, Peter.””

“Hi, okay, Peter, I’m Peter,” he quips back,not missing a beat.

I laugh at Peter lightly before pulling down his pants.

“W-Wait, Y/N, are- are- are you sure ab-”

I cut him off with a finger pressed to his lips.

“Shhhhhh. Yes, Peter. I am sure. Now shut up and let me make you happy,” I say, kissing his nose to reassure him.

“But, I want to make you feel good fir-” Peter tries to object but lets out a moan instead as I palm his member through his boxers.

I smile as I gently squeeze tighter and watch him throw his head back and moan a little louder. I then pull down his boxers as I eagerly snake down his body and watch as his member is freed from its restraints. I wrap my hand around it and give it a small pump, a little intimidated by his size, even though it’s not fully hard yet. I watch as small beads of precum leak from his head and roll down his shaft. Without a second thought, I lick along the underside of his cock, starting from the base all the way to the tip. I swirl my tongue around the head, lapping up the droplets of precum.

I hear Peter groan as I pull him into my mouth, inch by inch, using my tongue to lick him slowly and hollowing my cheeks to suck him deeper.

I smile to myself as I hear Peter curse and moan above me, I feel his hands in my hair as he caresses my face, urging me to continue.

I lean back and pump him a little more before sucking the head of his cock again.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Peter moans as I start to slowly take in as much of him as possible and pull back. The tip of his cock hits the back of my throat as I take him deeper and deeper. I pump his shaft at the base with my free hand as I begin to feel my panties dampening.

“Y/N, please slow down, I don’t want to cum yet,” Peter practically begs.

I look up at him and smile to myself as I let him go with a pop.

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to calm himself down.

I take this opportunity to turn my back to him and take off my pants slowly. I bend over more than I have to so that I give him a good view of my ass. I can see his jaw drop in the mirror.

Pffft. He ain’t seen nothing yet.

My jeans join the not-so-well-hidden pile of dirty laundry in the corner. I lift my shirt slowly, especially around my chest, since I want him to see that I’ve “forgotten” my bra at home. I hear a sharp intake of breath as he realizes this. The shirt joins my pants and I’m left Stark™-naked except for my panties. I turn around to face him.

Are human even supposed to be that red?

He has a dumbfounded expression on his face that I’ve never seen before.

I laugh a little as I climb back onto the bed and kiss him.

He kisses me back after recovering from his shock. He flips me over so that I’m on my back.

He attacks my neck before traveling downward, past my exposed breasts leaving a trail of kisses past my stomach.

I moan loudly as he reaches my hips. He kisses all along the band of my panties and kisses my nether lips through the thin fabric.

I whimper as he hooks a finger into the elastic of my panties and pulls them down slowly. He leaves small bites on the inside of my thighs as he passes them. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the sodden article of clothing sail across the room in the general direction of the rest of my clothes. He works his way back up my legs, fingers ghosting the insides of my legs before parting them gently. His left hand grip the top of my right thigh as he uses his hand to spread my lips. I clutch the sheets as he dips a finger into my wet and aroused center. He smiles to me before scooting closer to my crotch, all the while making a “come hither” motion with his finger. His lips meet my other lips as his head comes down.

Within moments, his tongue finds my clit.

Has he done this before?

“I pay attention in sex ed, Y/N,” Peter jokes as my cheeks redden in the realization that I had said it out loud.

He chuckles a little bit before leaning in and kissing my thighs before sucking my clit again.

I moan loudly and clutch the sheets harder. I feel another finger join the first and his other hand moves up to hold my hips in place. I squirm and whimper as his tongue runs over my clit, lapping at the sensitive bundle of nerves. His fingers spread my opening  to give his tongue to my core. I shiver as his tongue moves in and out of my entrance.

“Ohh, fuck Peter…” I moan, willing him to go faster. He pulls his tongue out of me and he moves his two fingers again, thrusting faster than before.

His tongue moves back up to my clit and begins attacking the small nub at the top of my folds.

My moans become more incoherent as he continues to lick, suck, and lap at every single part of my most private area, leaving me a babbling mess.

As my walls begin to clench around his fingers, Peter speeds up his thrusting and ravages my clit harder as he feels me gets closer to the edge until he brings me over the edge. My back arches and my toes curl almost painfully as the immense pleasure of the orgasm wracks my body completely. I see stars as my eyes roll back into my head and a loud, breathy moan escapes my lips.

Peter sucks gently on my clit and slows his thrusting as the waves of euphoria roll over me, further intensifying the pleasure and prolonging my orgasm.

As the pleasure gently fades away, Peter kisses my clit, then kisses a trail up my stomach, stopping at my breasts. He licks each nipple, gently sucking on each one before moving on. He stops at my neck, planting a kiss there before moving his head up so that his eyes are level with mine.

“Do you want to go further?”

“No, Peter, I wanted to stop and talk about multi-variable calculus,” I deadpan, lacing as much sarcasm into my voice as possible.

He smiled devilishly and deadpanned right back, “It just so happened that I needed a little help with my calculus homework, can you help me integrate my natural log?”

I whack him softly with one of the red heart pillows on the bed. “I HATE YOU”

“No you don’t,”

He leans down to kiss me again before reaching over and grabbing a condom from the nightstand.

I laugh as he fails to open it before offering to help. He smiles at me gratefully as I put it on for him. I wrap my arms around his neck to pull him closer and kiss him.

I pull him down to the bed.

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you too, Peter,” I say as I guide his cock to my entrance.

I always thought I would be really nervous during my first time. But Peter made it comfortable. Peter slowly moved his hips forward and I gasped, not used to his size.

He’s bigger than I thought.

“Are you okay? Am I hurting you?” Peter asked nervously.

“No, it just feels kinda tight,” I say, trying to ease his nerves.

Peter continues to insert himself carefully. The pain fades away and it begins to feel pleasurable.

I moan a little and clutch Peter’s back as I quietly beg him to go faster.

Peter starts to thrust his hips at a moderately faster speed and I throw my head back and moan loudly, enjoying this new feeling beyond words.

Peter leans forward to kiss my neck making me mewl in pleasure as I move my arms around the back of his neck to pull his hair.

I kiss his neck and Peter groans loudly.

“Keep doing that and I am not going to last much longer,” Peter says as he leaves another hickey on my collar bone. He hastens his movements and starts thrusting harder.

“Maybe I don’t want you to,” I whisper breathily.

Peter straightens up and moves a hand down to my clit and rubs his thumb over it in quick, small circles, pushing me over the edge.

“Peter,” I moan before I see stars for the second time that night. As my walls clenched around his member, I felt Peter also reach his release, groaning loudly and burying his cock deep in my tunnel. His cock twitches and I feel the condom fill up as he releases his seed into me. He lies down, burying his face into the crook of my neck as he tries to slow his breathing. We lay like that for a while, both panting hard and coming down from our orgasms. After a few minutes, he pulls out slowly and kisses my face. I moan as he slides out, and I feel empty when he pulls out completely.

“You okay?” Peter asks.

“Mmm,” I respond, exhausted.

Peter laughs and goes to the bathroom to get rid of his condom. I whine, not wanting him to leave, but am too tired to go after him.

Peter comes back a few minutes later with a warm washcloth. He gently moves my legs to clean then before handing me one of his shirts and to wear.

I smile and put it on before lying back down on the bed and drifting off, murmuring, “I love you,” to Peter.

“Happy birthday, Y/N” is the last thing I hear before my reality fades into pleasant nothingness.

—-

Masterlist: x

Watch Me Babygirl [pt.2]

A much requested part two! 

[previous part] [next part] [pt.4] [pt.5] [pt.6] [pt.7] [pt.8] [pt.9] [pt.10] [pt.11]

Summary: Jungkook is your brother’s annoying best friend. You can’t stand him but he just can’t resist teasing you. How far will he actually go?

warnings: language


“Hey are you going to the game tonight?”

You slid farther down in your seat, doing your best to continue to ignore Jungkook. You hadn’t been able to look him in the eye all week. In fact, you’d even contemplated faking an illness to stay home from school just so you could avoid him. However, school was important to you and a small part of you didn’t want to give the Jungkook the satisfaction of knowing that he’d gotten to you. He had though, and he knew it.

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