his leg is wrapped around her body

I couldn’t be happier with this gorgeous piece I commissioned @panda-capuccino as a belated birthday present for my dear friend @kylorenvevo.

This is a scene from my favorite reylo fic To Kingdom Come. This fic always helps me through my rough times. I’ve read it through three times over. So this is my thank you to Thea for creating this wonderful series. 


Rey is already running. Ben’s eyes widen when he spots her but, before he can so much as move a muscle, she hurls herself at him, looping her arms around his neck to pull herself up his body, wrapping her legs around his waist. He instinctively clamps one hand to the base of her spine and his free arm to the backs of her thighs to keep her supported against him. In full view of the Resistance forces and the Jedi Masters and the defeated stormtroopers, amidst the ruins of the Valley of the Dark Lords, as the lingering smoke of battle wafts into the dust-laced air, she rains down frantic kisses on every inch of his face, forehead, jaw, nose, cheeks, scar, every beauty spot, every freckle. And, finally, she presses her lips to his, the red-gold sunset burning through her closed eyelids, her fingers tangling in his hair.    

He kisses her back. The two of them sway slightly as he loses a bit of balance, but Rey isn’t afraid. Ben will never let her fall.

Sword of the Jedi

After the Parade

“Hush,” he says.

Above them, Cabal ships drag thick black smoke across the flickering twilight, and flames rise from the Tower. Legionnaires scour the streets, seeking out the cries of the wounded and afraid.

“Hush,” he says again, as the child starts to sniffle, and he pulls her into the shadows cast by an apartment block as a patrol makes its laborious way past. He was made to protect, made to serve, but he feels clumsy now; the hand on her shoulder is almost larger than her head and she has no armor to protect her bruised and burned skin from his rough gauntlets. When he tries to wipe the tears from her face he worries that he will be the one to break her.

He followed her screams, just as the Cabal did. He had no rifle to kill the Legionnaires that would have silenced her; dispatched the first one with his boot-knife but was not quick enough to catch the second unaware. It is dead, but his chest-plate is cracked and burned and the thing that eats the Traveler has also eaten his Light.

She is wearing yellow. A summer dress, for a celebration. When he offered her his gore-spattered hand she took it at once, and did not look back at the splayed and broken limbs visible beneath the rubble around her as though she knew there was no one left to wait for. He brushed dust and chips of concrete from the tight black curls on her head, and when she tried to smile her gap-toothed smile at him despite it all he knew that he would die the second death to save her.

They pick their way through dust-covered streets and alleys, one grimy hand holding his armored fingers, the other wrapped around the silent shell of his Ghost. He told her to keep it safe, and she clutches it to her chest with an intensity that would do any Titan proud.

To those behind the Wall, love and service. To those outside it, fury and fire. He is young: the Order’s maxim has never meant much to him, but here at the end of an Age he feels each word burning in his chest and he wraps his Mark around her shoulders like a cloak, like a little Hunter, to keep the nearness of the night from her as best he can.

When they hear the distant bursts of gunfire he waits until the chatter fades, then leads them in a different direction even though it gives him hope to know the City is still fighting. Perhaps if he ran to the violence he would find weapons or more Guardians, but he will not risk it. And so hours pass as they slink across the city, and as slowly as his wounds force him to move she still takes ten strides for every one of his. She has only one sandal, silver leather wrapped around a tiny leg, but he thinks that a single piece of armor is better than no armor at all.

He finds a battered pulse rifle in a street that leads to a square, tries not to wonder where its owner went. The magazine is full, but it is all he has and there is no Ghost at his shoulder to synthesize ammo. He bends to pick it up, never letting go of the hand that holds his own, just as a troop of Legionnaires turn the corner in front of them.

He pulls the child behind a crumbled wall. Waits one heartbeat, two; no slug throwers roar in response. Even so, they are between him and the direction he has lead, and he doubts he has the strength to cross the City again.

Love and service to those within. Fire and fury to those without.

The Legionnaires do not notice, but neither do they move on. More join them, and they begin to spiral out in all directions, continuing their search. It will not be long before they find him and the child. A narrow street, once hung with banners but now collapsing from the rooftops down, will lead her west, to the walls, away from Cabal patrols - as long as there is a distraction.

He lifts her chin as gently as he can.

“You have to run,” he whispers. He is bad at whispering. “I’ll keep you safe.”

“That way,” he says when she stares at him in silence, pointing with his outsized hand down the shadowed street.

He gives her a delicate push, points again. She blinks, once, then toddles into the dark, Ghost held close as though it will protect her. Perhaps, if there is a way to undo this disaster, it someday will.

He props the rifle atop the ledge, lifts his visor and sights with naked eye. There are so many, he thinks, and then bites back a laugh - there are only eight.

Love within. Fury without.

The rifle barks. One Legionnaire dies and the others spin in confusion, firing in the direction of his cover. He ignores them, squeezes the trigger again. And again. And again.

Love within. Fury without. Love within. Fury without. Love within. Fury without. Love within -

Something tugs his arm. He looks down into the eyes of the little girl, and pure terror finds him.

“I said run,” he growls, but she does not, her face set in a scowl. He shakes his arm and she does not let go.

A micro-rocket bursts against the barricade and he ducks, throws his body over her, sprays the rest of his bullets in response. The child buries her head in his cracked armor, her frail body shaking.

Never has he been so afraid to die.

He feels a fool. He tosses the rifle down, wraps one arm around the child and pulls her close. With the other he slams his visor shut. He takes a deep breath, and then another, and when at last there is a break in the constant fire he lurches to his feet, lifts the child to his chest, and runs.

It is hard, so hard, to move full Titan-plate without his Light to drive it. His body aches. Something inside is probably broken, and he does not know how long it takes a body to heal without a Ghost.

A slug hits him in the back and he stumbles but his armor holds, and he sprints down the street where he tried to send the child, the sound of jump-packs following behind. He ducks his head and cups himself around his charge, makes himself as big as he can, plows across the debris-choked pavement. The girl begins to cry again, though to his ears it is not the sound of fear but of fury, and before long he is roaring with it, and the two of them roar together down the long, narrow street as explosions scatter bits of ruins that once were homes. He does not know where he is going, knows only that he must go somewhere, that he will not stop until the child is safe or his legs no longer work; that when he has nothing left he will throw her from him and tear the Cabal apart with fists alone, Light or no.

He has stopped counting the impacts. Every step is a knife in his chest. The Legionnaires must be close but he does not turn, lest the shield that is his body fail. He can feel himself slowing, a sensation that fills him both with wonder and despair, but he cannot force himself to let her go despite his promise. Something cracks against the back of his leg, and he is too tired and too hurt to correct. He lands heavily on one shoulder, slides ten grinding yards, arms still wrapped around the child. At the very least, they will have to rip him apart to get to her. Maybe, if he dies quickly, they will not notice her at all.

Gunfire interrupts his thoughts, along with the sound of footsteps and the roar of Cabal. Hands grab him, drag him out of the street, but still he does not uncurl. He sees Hunter cloaks, Warlock robes, a Titan mark.

“Hush,” he tells the child, head still tucked close, while they cower in a doorway and around them Guardians fight.

“Hush,” he tells her, over their surprised cries of pain.

“Hush,” he tells her, over and over, until at last all is silent and he dares to lift his head and stand.

He helps the child to her feet, and though he leans against the doorway it is her tiny hand in his that keeps him upright. He looks around at their saviors: most are near as bruised as he is. They nod their heads, pat him on the back, and he opens his mouth to ask for forgiveness, for leading the Legionnaires here, but a Hunter shakes her head as though she knows what he will say.

Two Guardians lie dead. Truly dead. One Hunter, one Titan wearing the Mark of the Gatewatch. He waits the half-second for their Ghosts to revive them, feels sick when they do not rise. He swears that he will learn their names and add them to the Order of the Pilgrim Guard.

Someone makes cooing sounds and tries to take the child, tries to give her water, but she refuses to let go of his hand, refuses to surrender his Ghost. For a moment they stand there, all seven of them in a circle around her, and it is as though a different light has risen to bond them all.

They need ships. Weapons. Food, maybe. The child, at least, must eat. The Hunter offers water again, and he wonders how many new scraps of fabric she has taken for her cloak. A different Titan, this one wearing the Mark of the Six Fronts, hands him the dead Hunter’s rifle - then looks down at the child, still clinging to his hand, and passes him a sidearm instead.

They turn their backs to the Tower, and continue their slow march to the western wall. Perhaps they will find supplies along the way. If not, so be it - they are still Guardians, and they will save what light they can.

Love within. Fury without.

The Cabal have no word for ‘retreat.’ Soon, they will learn that the Guardians have none for ‘mercy.’


Words: @themothyards

Art: @artdailybykitty

Lipstick stains

Summary: She and Tom don’t exactly get along, but really, everyone knows they just need to bang.

Pairings: Reader (?) x Tom Holland

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: Some swearing and some smut

A/n: I’m sorry this is so shitty :/ but let me know what ya think anyways :)))


“Nice ass.”

“And this is as close as you’ll get to it.”

“Wouldn’t want it anyway.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

It was a good feeling when she got the last word in. It meant she won that round, and boy, there were many rounds of snarky banter. Neither she nor Tom were overly fond of each other and did what they could to avoid any situation involving the other. However, when your best friends are dating, it’s inevitable. Kat and Haz, what a cute couple. She and Tom, no way in hell. Or at least, that’s what they said every time somebody suggested they ‘just make out already’. See, the thing with those two is that they had undeniable chemistry; the room was thick with sexual tension whenever they were together. It was apparent to everyone but them.

They were currently at the boys’ shared apartment. When Haz had asked the both of them to help him prepare for tonight, they had begrudgingly agreed. It was Kat’s birthday, and being a good boyfriend, he was throwing her a surprise party. As much as they disliked each other, she and Tom loved their friends.  

Haz had put them in charge of decorations, so here she was, standing on a wooden stool in the living room, Tom on the ground behind her. She was on her toes, trying to tape streamers to the ceiling. Due to the height difference, he had a perfect view of her ass. She was annoying, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t hot – not that he’d ever admit that out loud.  

Suddenly she wobbled a little, and as if on instinct, he immediately reached out. He grabbed her waist, steadying her.

“Hands off, Holland,” she said sternly, not even looking at him.

“Geez, I was just trying to help,” he removed his hands, holding them up defensively.

“My knight in shining armour,” her words dripped with sarcasm.

He rolled his eyes at her.

Having finally taped that section, she asked Tom for another piece. The small seat she was standing on didn’t allow room for much movement. As she turned to take it from him, she lost her balance. With a yelp, she fell forward – right on top of Tom. They crashed to the floor in a loud heap.

They both groaned; him underneath her, she with her face pressed against his throat. She lifted her head and winced. Haz came running in.

“What is going on in h–,” he stopped midsentence when he saw them on the floor, in quite the compromising position.

He grinned.

“What happened?”

“It’s not what you think.”

“I’m sure,” he said amused, his grin getting wider. He contemplated taking pictures but thought better of it. They’d kill him.

“She fell on me,” Tom grunted.

“No, I didn’t!” she protested.

“You literally fell off the stool, onto me.”

“Okay, fine, I did,” she huffed as she stood up, checking for bruises.

Tom was still lying on the floor, taking a moment to recuperate.

“Um, mate?” Haz snickered, looking down at him.

“What?”

Haz checked to see if she had noticed yet, before answering, “You got a little something there,” indicating his collarbone.

Tom swiped at the area, not finding anything.

“What? What is it?” he questioned. He too stood up and looked between the two, puzzled.

By now, she had realised what Haz was talking about and suppressed a smile.

“Oops.”

She pointed at the mirror on the wall and allowed him to make the discovery. She and Haz exchanged a look and giggled.

“What the fuck?”

They burst out laughing. Right at the base of his throat, there was a perfect impression of her lips, her red lipstick staining his pale skin. Glaring at his reflection, he tried to wipe the mark away but only succeeded in smudging it.

“How the hell am I supposed to get rid of this?” he growled.

“Will you relax? It’s just lipstick,” she reassured.

“Yeah, that makes it seem like you two were getting intimate,” Haz snorted.

“Shut up,” the other two snapped in unison.

“Okay, okay,” he backed out of the room. “I’m gonna finish up in the kitchen. You guys should finish all this too, party’s starting soon.”

She nodded at him and turned to look at Tom. He was still rubbing at that spot and she could tell that it had spread all over his neck now.

Sighing, she walked over to her bag and pulled out a makeup wipe. She sauntered over to him and held out the tissue. He took it reluctantly and cleaned the lipstick off.

She crossed her arms and waited for him, expecting a thank you.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” he said instead.

“For what?” she asked in confusion.

“You fell on me, I cushioned your fall. You’re welcome,” he explained simply.

“My hero,” this time she rolled her eyes at him. “Come on, we gotta finish hanging these streamers.”

Grumbling, they returned to their assigned job.

*

“Let’s get this party started!” Kat screamed, raising her cup in the air. Somebody turned the volume up, and the crowd cheered, the apartment filling with music. She kissed Haz and dragged him into the middle of the room, dancing with him.

Tom smiled at his friends enjoying themselves. He took a sip of his drink, his eyes wandering the room before they landed on her. She was wearing a short black dress, hair cascading down her back. She was tipsy but moved with confidence in her heels. He watched her hips swinging in time to the beat of the song, her arms above her head. He admired the curves of her body, very evident in the confines of the tight fabric. It wasn’t long before some guy was behind her, his hands on her hips. She was unfazed, grinding against him. She spun around in his arms, her own coming down over his shoulders. As she moved closer towards him, Tom looked away, filled with a strange resentment.

He left the room, in search of more alcohol to distract him from this unwanted feeling.

*

She needed a drink. She had been dancing for what felt like hours and was desperately thirsty. Squeezing past the swaying bodies she made it to the kitchen. She noticed Tom leaning against the counter, talking to another guest. She moved towards the island bench across from him and grabbed a bottle, pouring some soda into a cup. She guzzled it down.

“All that grinding made you thirsty, huh?” he asked, more bitterly than he intended.

Putting the cup down she frowned, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.”

“It clearly means something.”

A thought dawned on her.

“Are… are you… jealous?” she asked in disbelief.

“Are you kidding? Why the hell would I be jealous?” he scoffed. He took a gulp of his drink.

“Fine,” she shrugged her shoulders, not really caring. “Where’s your bathroom?”

“Down the hall to the left.”

She nodded her head once and pushed past party-goers in the direction he had advised.

In the bathroom she checked herself in the mirror. She tousled her hair, mind going back to her chat with Tom. What was up with him? Shaking her head, she rummaged through her purse for the tube of lipstick. Finding it, she removed the lid and applied a fresh coat. She pressed her lips together, evening out the colour. Just as she popped the lid back on, the door opened.

“Occupied,” she called out.

“It’s me,” Tom stepped in, closing the door behind him.

“Oh. I was just leaving anyway.”

Zipping up her purse, she took one final glance at the mirror.  She saw Tom in the corner of her eye and bit her lower lip. He was wearing a black tee emphasising the muscles in his arms. His jaw was clenched and she noticed how sharp it was. She swallowed.

“Am I making you nervous?” he asked curiously.

“Of course not,” she forced herself to make eye contact, hoping she exuded more confidence than she was feeling.

“You seem nervous,” he took a step towards her.

She took a step back.

“Why would I be nervous? If I recall correctly, you were the one who sounded jealous earlier. Do I make you nervous?” she countered, trying to gain the upper hand.

“Not at all, and that wasn’t jealousy,” he continued to move towards her.

“What was it then?” her back hit the wall.

He was standing awfully close now. He filled her senses, sight, smell, hearing. She met his stare, refusing to look away first.

“It was frustration.”

“At what?” she almost whispered.

“At wanting to do this.”

He cupped her face and crashed his mouth against hers. Once she recovered from her initial shock, she found herself kissing him back. The rigidity of her body seeped away as they melded into each other. She reached up and wrapped her hands around his neck, pulling him closer. His hands dropped down to her back where they slipped further lower to her ass.

He lifted her up effortlessly and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Their kiss was messy and passionate as everything they had been holding in came flooding out. He sat her on the edge of the sink and stood between her legs with his hands on her thighs. Her dress had ridden up and the heat of his palms seared her bare skin. He slid one hand up and gripped her hip while the other remained on her leg. He leaned forward, pushing her back and she threw an arm behind to find a purchase to support herself. She accidentally knocked over a bottle but they barely noticed it clattering to the floor. Her legs hugged his waist she gripped his shoulder with her right hand.

Needing a breath, Tom broke the kiss, moving his lips down her jaw to her neck. Her head fell back, exposing her throat and she let out a moan as he found her sweet spot. She tangled her fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck, her other arm snaking back over his shoulder. She was lost in bliss. She was breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling.

“Tom,” she moaned his name. Egged on by the sounds falling from her lips, he brought a hand up and slipped the spaghetti strap from her shoulder. He kissed down past her collarbone and along the soft skin of her shoulder.

All of a sudden there was a knock at the door.

“Mate?”

It was Haz.

“Fuck,” Tom cursed, as they separated. He stepped back and went to the door, not looking at her.

She, in turn, slipped off the sink and wiggled her dress back down to an appropriate length. She pushed her hair out of her face and turned to the mirror above the sink. Her lipstick was smeared across her mouth and her cheeks were flushed.

He opened the door.

“Yes, mate?” annoyance in his tone.

Haz’s mouth fell open in surprise when he saw Tom, but then he noticed her in the bathroom behind him. He smirked.

“Uh, you’ve got a little something…,” he repeated his words from earlier in the day.

“Huh?” Tom walked over to the sink where she was still standing.

He too, had her lipstick smudged over his mouth and chin. He dropped his head, shaking it.

“Wait ‘til I tell Kat,” Haz said gleefully, running off in the direction of the living room.

She looked at Tom. Then she went to the door and closed it. He turned to her when he heard the click of the lock.

“What are you doing?”

“We weren’t done.”


Tagging: @spideyontherun 

From The Dining Table

13 Hours Later.

When she woke up, she was still alone.

Initially, she’d forgotten all about the night before. The first thing she noticed was the strange buzzing sound of the thermostat in the corner, which was obviously not working at all because the room was freezing. The chilly air nipped at her cheeks, and she snuggled further into the mattress as she tucked her head into the comforter with a soft whimper, trying to ignore the buzzing in her head.

Her eyes were still stinging from her tears the night before mixed with the lack of sleep. She’d managed to finally drift off at around four in the morning, but she couldn’t tell by the window whether it was eight in the morning or two in the afternoon.

Their screams from the night before still echoed in the walls.

She slid the covers off of her head and opened her eyes slowly, staring at the pale yellow motel ceiling. It was the color of Easter yellow, she’d decided, and it reminded her of chocolate and gardens and everything happy. It reminded her of some distant life where she probably would have done something to be proud of.

The ache in her chest resonated throughout her entire body, and her head was pounding to the rhythm of her heart—it was the only way she could be sure it was still beating.

She felt like someone had torn it out of her chest.

She turned onto her side and looked at the space in the bed beside her, clutching onto the soft material of the comforter until her knuckles turned white. Waking up on her own wasn’t new to her—she’d done it time and time again in the past two years, so much that she’d become numb to the loneliness that came with it. But this time was different…

This time, she knew he wasn’t coming back.

She suddenly felt a tear roll down her face, and just like that, she couldn’t get him out of her head.

He was everywhere.

Keep reading

After the War, Cassian would often wake in the middle of the night to Nesta crawling on top of him. Half-asleep and insisting that she needed to keep him safe, she would lay her body on his. Her legs around his waist, her face hidden in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. Wrapping his arms around her, he would remind her that this is the next life, the next world.

White sheets & purple kisses

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2,032
Warnings: Smut - NSFW – Sexual themes, inappropriate language, nudity, handjob, fingering, squirting, unprotected sex - please guys if you’re going to be intimate with someone, please use protection. Also if you’re underage, please don’t read this.
Author’s Note: Hi guys, I don’t even know what to say about this. I think this is the most smuty thing I’ve ever wrote ahah so all I can say is I hope you enjoy it. This is also for @marvelous-fvcks writing challenge. I hope you like it! I did my best. And please guys, tell me what you think of it. I’m so nervous for some reason ahaha.
Prompt Word: Hickey


Keep reading

a stroke of fuck | one

pairing: sehun x reader, jongin x reader, yixing x reader
genre: fuckboy!au, college!au, smut, angst?, series
summary: there was good in the world to balance the bad, but when it comes to boys are they good for anything except breaking hearts and causing trouble?

pt.1 / pt.2 / pt.3 / pt.4 / pt.5

A/N: AS ALWAYS I DIDNT PROOFREAD THIS, please let me know what you think D:

Originally posted by intokai

“Fuck, you’re getting my dick so wet,” Sehun moaned while seeing the way his dick glistened with wetness. Biting his lip, he threw his head back and smirked. How did he get so lucky? Looking back down, he pushed the girl’s thigh further back, giving him the best view of how his dick stretched out her pussy. Another slew of filthy words left the boy’s mouth as he leaned over the moaning girl’s body. His large left hand moved beside her head, his chest on hers, nipples rubbing against each others as he slowly pushed his thick, pulsating dick back inside her.

Lifting her right leg, she wrapped it around his thin waist as their bodies roughly rocked the bed. The headboard slamming against the wall brought her closer to her long awaited orgasm. Her senses began overloading. Sehun’s hot breaths against her stretched neck that adorned three hickies, the short curls just above his hard dick that brushed against her swollen clit, his hand that had a firm grip on her thigh to stop her squirming.

“That’s right squeeze my dick,” he groaned against her jaw. Increasing the speed of his thrusts, he lifted his left hand and began rolling her hard nipple between his fingers. “I’m so close,” her whimpers added to the noise of undeniable lewd acts.

Keep reading

2

Heretic - Reylo Black Bird AU by @reylorobyn2011

She closed her eyes tightly and silently hoped for the strength to make it through this fall. She heard the flutter of wings and felt arms wrap around her legs and back, holding her against a rock hard body. When she opened her eyes, she was met with Kylo’s deep brown ones. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face into his chest.

He carried her in his arms like a bride as he soared above the cliffs and across the town. Once he landed outside of her house, he pressed his forehead to hers and let out an anguished cry.

He dropped to his knees and pulled her tighter into his embrace, never letting her go for even a moment.

Rey felt his hands moving across her body, checking for injuries, or just feeling– needing to know she was alive.


I’ve commissioned the lovely @nemling to draw this gorgeous piece for my wifey, @reylorobyn2011 and her amazing story.

If you haven’t read this story yet, you really should remedy that 😊. It’s loosely based on a Manga called Black Bird. I am absolutely in love with this art and the story. I hope you guys love it as much as I do.❤

Disclaimer: please don’t repost or remove the text, it was commissioned for a fic. So please be respectful to the author and the artist.💖

memory found || stiles stilinski

word count: 4242

warnings: season 6 spoilers, mentions of sex, light swearing

prompt: part one of this imagine

author’s note: yeah, so i got just a little carried away with this tbh. i really liked the idea of this imagine and i am really happy with how it turned out. also, THAT SEASON 6A FINALE! AM I RIGHT?? anyways, enjoy this imagine and feel free to make requests!

masterlist

By definition, Stiles and Y/N were friends with benefits.

Keep reading

More Than Friends (Bill Skarsgård)

Originally posted by karlmordo

Based upon: Being Bill’s makeup artist on the set of It. As filming goes on, you start to think of him as more than a friend. Fearing you’ll let something slip, you act more reserved around him, causing him to wonder what is wrong. Near the end of the shoot, you confess your feelings and he reciprocates, leading to sex back at your place.

Getting paid to do someone’s makeup was what she considered to be the greatest job on the planet. However, the people one works with can really make or break the experience. Being hired to do makeup for Pennywise and the kids of the Losers Club in the newest adaptation of It was a dream come true. Never before had she been hired to create such a complex look, it was challenging and exciting.

Bill was the nicest person she ever met, thought she ever would meet. After some months of daily makeup sessions, the two became friends.


“How was filming today?” She asked him as he climbed into her trailer.

“Good. We shot my forest scenes today.” He replied, giving her a smile.

She cringed, “Don’t smile. At least not until I take that makeup off.”

He rolled his eyes before shutting the door behind him and made his way over to her, dressed in his regular clothes. She was busy taking out makeup removers, a face cloth, cleansers and moisturizers; everything she needed to take off the product. So he sat down in his chair in front of the large mirror which was adorned with lightbulbs covering the frame.

She came up behind him, her eyes meeting his in the reflection. “You look ugly.” She joked, her eyes playful.

He snorted, “Yeah, yeah. Get on with it.”

She carefully removed his wig and placed it on the counter before slipping her fingers under the cap which covered his hair. He closed his eyes with relief when she pulled it off, freeing his hair. She glanced at him, noticing he was massaging his head and laughed loudly.

“You try wearing that thing all day.” He complained.

“I have, just not that one.” She smirked.

She grabbed the bottle of hydrating remover and removed the cap, letting the liquid soak through the cloth before dragging the fabric over his forehead. The white product came off easily, making the white of the cloth even brighter.

“Close your eyes.” She said softly.

His pale eyes met her dark ones before he closed them. The fabric ran over his face, making his skin feel healthier, clean and fresh.


“Alright, time for your favourite part.” She joked. She liked to tell him that he was getting a free facial everyday, so he should be thankful and totally in her dept.

“You know me well.” He laughed back.

He liked the feeling of her smart fingers tracing over his skin, especially with his eyes closed.

“I can’t believe we’re wrapping soon.” He confessed as her hands worked wonders on his skin.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Only one week left.” She remembered.

She wiped toner over his freshly cleansed face, pushing his hair back when she cleaned his forehead.

“I’m glad I won’t be scaring everyone on set everyday.”

She giggled, “I think you’ll continue to do that anyway.”

His eyes flew open, filled with faux shock.

“You wound me.” He replied, holding a hand over his heart.

She swatted at him before admitting: “You couldn’t even do that if you tried. They have to hire me to make you look hideous.”

He closed his eyes again as she began to rub a gentle moisturizer into his temples.

“Mm, are you saying I’m incredibly handsome?” He questioned.

“Yes.” She said simply, her lips moving faster than her brain.

She mentally cringed and reached to grab more moisturizer so he wouldn’t feel her hands stiffen. She liked Bill. Scratch that, she really like Bill. After months of doing his makeup everyday, watching him film some scenes and grabbing lunch together almost everyday, she had a hard time seeing him as just a friend.

He cracked one eye open and watched her as she rubbed more cool product over his sharp cheekbones. She avoided making any eye contact with him.


“Okay, I’m all done.” She said quickly.

She grabbed all of the products and materials that she had brought out and walked to the opposite end of the trailer. She had her back to him as she placed everything back on the shelves.

He is Bill Skarsgård, world famous actor who was born into an acting family. With a large group of dedicated fans and following, she assumed he would just say a quick “Goodbye” and leave for the day. He was up at five am to begin makeup and then shot a solid amount of footage while wearing a stuffy costume and full face of make up in the summer heat of Toronto. So when she felt hands slip onto her waist, she froze were she was, her hand gripping the bottle of toner tightly.

He stepped closer to her, his body flush against her back.

Slowly, she removed her hand from the bauble and placed it alongside her other on the counter. She was conflicted, did not know how to truly feel about his contact.

“Bill…”

He turned her around to face him. He saw she was biting her lip nervously, arms limp at her sides. He moved his hands up from her waist to her neck, then cheek as he looked into her eyes. Her chest was rising and falling heavily causing her breasts to swell against her blouse.

He leant down to her height and pressed his lips against hers, combing his hand through her soft hair. She stood frozen for a second before melting into his touch, responding with as much desire as he did. Her hands wrapped around him, gripping his back tightly as her lips moved against his.

Suddenly, he backed her into the counter, emitting a moan from her. God, he wanted her. After months of getting to know her, having her do his makeup and laugh with him; he wanted nothing more than to finally show her how much she mattered to him.

He moved his hands to the back of her thighs, “Jump.” He mumbled between kisses.

She wrapped her dress pant clothed legs around his hips and her arms wove their way around the back of his neck, fingers tangling and pulling at his locks.

He moved his smooth lips down her neck, kissing, sucking and biting as he went. He back arched into him and he gripped her hips harder, making her head dip back.

“Do you wanna… go to m-my place?” She breathed.

He gave her lips a swift kiss, “Yes.”


She un-clasped the buttons of her navy blue blouse as she straddled Bill’s lanky body. Once all the buttons were open, she slowly slid the sleeves down from her shoulders, exposing her red push up bra. He grinned up at her.

He let her take off his belt before he flipped her over and began go peel off her pants and then his own as she tugged off his shirt.

He almost moaned at the sight of her; chest beating heavily, breasts heaving wilding, tousled hair, parted lips.

He wanted to touch every inch of her.


Her whole body buzzed with adrenaline and pleasure, it was so overwhelming that it felt unreal. There was absolutely no way that Bill Skarsgård was having sex with her, touching her like no one else could. Yet, he was.

She wanted to moan loudly, scream his name and cry out but despite everything that happened that day, she chose to stifle her moans so they only came out a sharp breaths.

He hit deep inside her and she clawed on his back, holding him desperately as to not make a sound.

Another thrust sent her head against his shoulder, her moan being muffled by his hot skin.

“I want to hear you.” He said deep and huskily.

She let her head fall back onto the pillow beneath her and she wholeheartedly gave herself to him.

“B-Bill.” She moaned as he pushed deep inside of her.

Her back arched into his touch and he swore: “Shit. God… Y/N.”

It hit hard, fast and all to powerful, bringing her over the edge and crying his name. He followed soon after.


They laid in her bed, panting and hot. She had her head rested on his chest and his arm was wrapped around her body, keeping her close to him. She reached for his free hand and intertwined their fingers. He pressed a soft kiss to their hands.

“Bill?” She looked up at him.

“Hm?”

“I’m going to miss you a lot.” She whispered quietly, looking at their adjoined hands.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He said simply, giving her hand a squeeze.

“You mean?”

“What I mean is,” He pushed her onto her back and sat above her, “I love you. I don’t want to go anywhere. That is, if you’ll have me?” He finished, gazing into her stunning eyes.

Those orbs began to tear up.

“Yes… of course.” Her voice shook with happiness.

He smiled at her and her lips spread widely back.

I Will Show You - FP Jones | Riverdale

Originally posted by sensualkisses

Pairing: FP Jones x Female!Reader

Fandom: Riverdale

Warning: Mentions of sexual content & Daddy!kink, huge age difference

Word count: 1091


PART TWO  PART THREE

The puddle of water reflected the lights of Pop’s Chock'lit Shoppe. It was almost 11 PM but the dinner was still filled with people. A girl, around the age of seventeen, sat in a red Jeep. Loud music was playing while she scrolled through her phone. It was clear to everyone that she was waiting for someone. This, someone, was FP Jones, the fearless leader of the Southside Serpents. The Serpents lived on the south side of Riverdale and were feared by the north, west and east. They were especially known for drugs, alcohol, and stealing. The girl was born and raised as a Serpent. At some point, her parents began to care less and she began to hang out with Joaquin and he was the reason, how she met FP.

Right now, she was waiting for him. She only went with him because he promised her some food, which she probably won’t get. After all, an invisible rule said that the Serpents were actually not allowed in the other parts of Riverdale. The only thing she knew about his business was that it was with someone called Lodge. The girl moved her eyes to the nearest cars; Cheryl Blossom’s Car. She was the queen bee of Riverdale High, and the youngest and now only child of the Blossom Family.

Just because she had the money, the red-haired witch thought she could rule Riverdale, mostly the whole world. Before she could drift even more into her thoughts, the door of the driver side opened. FP had an angry look on his face while fastening his seat belts. The girl looked concerned and reached out for his hand. The older man moved his face to look at her, and his eyes soften. “Everything okay?” she asked him while he wiped the sweat away from his forehead. “Yeah, nothing your pretty head has to worry about,” he told her with a wink. The teenager girl was about to answer when she felt a pair of eyes staring at her. A waitress was staring at them, with a deathly glare. FP touched her shoulder which caused the girl to look at him again. He caressed her cheek and moved towards to kiss her.

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Misguided Texts Part 2 // A Dylan O’Brien Smut

Part One

Relationship: Dylan O’Brien x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Oral (Male on Female), Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Fingering, Public Sexish, and Swearing.

Word Count: 3,311

Song: Earned it by The Weeknd 

A/N: After the overwhelming amount of requests, here you have it y’all! I hope you guys like this, it’s very explicit and detailed much like part one. Also, thank you to @stilinski-jpeg for proofreading this. 

PSA: Here’s the black widow scene playing out in case you’re confused.

Two weeks. It’s been two weeks since the hotel room incident and Dylan hasn’t done a single thing about it. My phone has never received another text from him nor did he ever talk about it with me again. The topic was completely avoided when we were together, but I certainly didn’t miss the other signs he was giving me. What with the knowing glances, the winks, the smirks, the lingering touches on my arm that aren’t necessary, the way he stares at my lips whenever I talk to him as he licks his own. I knew exactly what he was doing…

Dylan was fucking teasing me. And the worst part? It’s actually working.

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Y/N‘s teased Harry all night, and he wants her to pay for it (she secretly wants it too, really badly).

i.

Y/N felt like a proper, scandalous tease tonight.

The sweetest smile was rested on her lips as she talked to their friends, she wasn’t paying half a mind to the conversation if she’s honest, she was too giddy and distracted. Under the dining table, her fingertips were brushing back and forth on Harry’s crotch, lightly tracing the outline of his cock through his floral print trousers. He hadn’t payed much mind to it at first, other than a flinch of his eyebrows in surprise, and a questioning look pointed her way. As the evening led on, however, the light traces and dances of her fingertips against his thigh had quickly escalated to something much more. Her palm was planted right on top of him, squeezing and palming his noticeably enlarged length now.

His efforts to warn her through panicked glances when she got him almost right on the edge— nearly too far to be able to gulp down his moans with his water but not quite on the brink for him to come in his pants— went past her with just a simple shrug and a smug perk of her lips.

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Double Team

Title: Double Team

Summary: Sam and Dean get rough when they double team you in the shower. Inspired by this imagine (x).

Author:  Dean’s Dirty Little Secret

Characters:  Sam Winchester x female reader x Dean Winchester (no Wincest)

Word Count:  1883

Warnings:  nsfw, threesome, explicit language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, fingering,

Author’s Notes:  Thank you @mamapeterson for the advice and being my always awesome beta. I wrote this because my brain needed a break from the plot driven piece I’m working on, so I hope you guys enjoy some gratuitous smut. Let’s just put it out there that this is going to be one seriously cold shower by they time they’re done, I know that. Suspend your disbelief and pretend it’s a never ending hot shower. :-)

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Seven Minutes (Adrienette)

This is for @sinnian (aka the wonderful @lunian) based on their steamy steamy art that you should all be checking out. And because the world needs more trope-y Adrienette sin ¯\_( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)_/¯

(Big thanks to @insanitysscribblings and @breeeliss for helping me fill in some major chunks you guys are the BOMB)

(ao3 link)


Marinette was going to kill Alya for talking her into this situation. Slowly, and in a very personal way.

It was one thing for Alya to weasel out Marinette’s guilty fantasies surrounding Adrien- a.k.a. cute crush turned irresistible beefcake in the span of only five years. It was quite another for Alya to then force those sexy daydreams (that were never meant to see the light of day!) to actually happen in real life. 

In public, no less!

It was third, even more unfathomable thing for her to shove Marinette face-first into a closet with said irresistible beefcake, the click of the lock and her manic, half-drunk laugh echoing through the tiny space as Marinette stood there like an idiot. A tipsy, dressed-scantily-for-a-party idiot radiating nothing short of pure want for the young man sandwiched in there with her.

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anonymous asked:

can I request todoroki and bakugous reaction when their s/o brings home a stray puppy they found on the streets and wanting to keep the puppy??

These idea is precious. I love this so much. All I can think of is you bringing home a puppy that looks just like the boy. [Admin Denki]

Todoroki Shouto

“What are you doing?” Todoroki asked, looking up from his book as you tip-toed into your apartment.

“Uhh.  .  . nothing.” You murmured, keeping your back turned to Todoroki as you hunched over.

“Are you alright?” Todoroki rose a brow, not familiar with seeing you like that before.

“Oh, I’m completely-”

“Arff!” Both you and Todoroki froze as the sound of panting filled the room.

“You’re hiding a dog in your jacket, aren’t you?” Todoroki set his book down, uncrossing his legs.

“Maybe.  .  .” You muttered, sitting in the entranceway. A small, fluffy puppy jumped out of your arms, circling the room.

“Why? Why would you bring a stray dog home? And a puppy? They’re a lot of responsibility.” Todoroki lectured you like a mother.

“I know that.” You grumbled. “It’s just.  .  . she reminded me of you.” You said, letting the black puppy crawl into your lap.

“How? I don’t have black hair.” Todoroki said in confusion. You picked the puppy up, sitting on the couch next to Todoroki and placing the puppy on his lap. The puppy put his paws on Todoroki’s chest, licking his cheeks. The puppy had one brown eye and one blue eye.

“Oh.” Todoroki mumbled, petting the puppy’s head. She wagged her tail, turning around in a circle before hopping off and running around the living room again.

“What do you think? Can we keep her?” You asked.

“We’ll go to the vet tomorrow. If she’s not chipped.  .  . I guess we can shelter her.” Todoroki decided, surprised when you wrapped your arms around him.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You squealed.

Bakugou Katsuki

“Get rid of it.” Bakugou glared at the dog and the dog glared back.

“Stop being a buzz kill. Look how cute he is.” You picked up the dense puppy. He was built like a baby tree trunk, having a stocky body and legs.

“He’s fucking ugly. I don’t want a dog. It’ll shit everywhere.” Bakugou scrunched up his nose. The honest reason was that he did not want competition for your attention. A clingy dog meant less sex or less time together. He glared at the dog, who barked back.

“I don’t get it. You two are so much like each other. Jealous, angry, humping my leg.” You smirked at the last part.

“He fucking humps your leg?!” Bakugou yelled.

“C’mon, he’s a dog. As soon as we get him.  .  . fixed.” You whispered the last word.

“I don’t want the puppy. Just bring him to the pound or something.” Bakugou shrugged.

“You monster!” You shouted, dramatically. “We’re keeping him.” You crossed your arms, marching off. “Now, I’m going to the pet store to get food, so behave! He better be here when I come back!” You shouted, slamming the front door. Bakugou and the dog bared their teeth.

“Asshole. He’s just a puppy. I don’t get why he’s being such a.  .  . a.  .  . a Bakugou.” You grumbled, carrying a big bag of dog food in your arms. You walked back into the apartment, but stopped in the doorway. Bakugou was curled up on the couch, the puppy sleeping underneath Bakugou’s arm. The dog snored, curling into Bakugou’s body.

“If you say a word,” Bakugou murmured, eyes closed. “-I will murder you.  .  . figuratively.” He corrected yourself. You put your hand over your mouth, having to keep yourself from squealing.

Award Show Season // H.S.

She stood at the dresser, heels kicked off to the side and her dress half way unzipped. She was finishing taking her hair down, pin by pin. She noticed Harry standing in the door way. His bow tie untied, hanging from his collar, his shirt almost all the way unbutton but still tucked into his trousers and bare foot. He watched her closely. She’d gotten him all kinds of worked up through the night. Not that she meant to. She rarely meant to but he just loved the way she looked in her dress. Looking so prim and proper beside him.

His tongue darted from his mouth for just a moment, wetting his lips before he spoke. She glanced over at him and felt her skin heating from his gaze. She knew what was about to happen but he loved her surprised looks when he threw her to the bed or kissed her hard. She went back to her own image, trying to ready herself for bed. Harry came up behind her, kissing down her neck lightly. She tried to contain a sigh as his hands slithered over her hips to her abs. His fingers dug into her satin covered flesh for just a moment. Harry’s strong hand slid down her thigh, making his intentions clear.

“They have no idea.” Harry whispered in her ear. She lifted her eyebrow as she watched him entwine her in his embrace. His lips skimmed up her soft neck, “They have no idea what you do to me.” He clarified. “They way you stare out over the auditorium with that little red painted pout. Asking me to kiss you, to devour your lips with mine.” He murmured against her ear as he swiped his thumb over her bottom lip. “The way you cross your legs like your hiding a little secret.” He smirked gliding his hand up her dress between her thighs. “They think that you’re so polite and adorable. They all thought that you were the good girl the way you hung off my arm. With the way that you stood there taunting me with your hips and those legs. They thought you were the perfect woman.” She chewed on her lip as he spoke to her. He was creating a fire within her. He knew it with the way he smirked and said, “But there is one thing that they don’t know. That they’ll never know.” She looked into his piercing green eyes through the glass. “They’ll never know what I do to you when the doors are closed. They’ll never know how you scream and the dirty things you say when I’m inside you, making you regret looking so proper and perfect.” Harry smirked even more feeling her melting against him. “They never would’ve guessed what I am about to do you to.” Harry whispered, making sure his lips brushed her ear and his breath rolled over her skin.

Harry grabbed her by her waist and tossed her onto the bed. She laid on her back, staring up at him, eager for him to make another move. She loved these moods of his. She loved the way he was demanding and ferocious. She loved the way he asserted himself and made her turn into a burning mass of desire. Harry knocked his knuckles against her thigh, signaling for her to spread her legs. When she did so without hesitation, he smiled.

“My baby knows what she needs now.” Harry snickered, kneeling between her legs. He grabbed the straps of her dress and pulled it off her with no resistance. He tossed the pricey garment to the floor like it was a rag. Harry bit his bottom lip to see she had on no bra and no panties. “Bad girl.” He chuckled leaning over to place a chaste kiss on her. She bit her own lips and reached for his shirt. She pulled his shirt from his trousers and finished unbuttoning it. Harry threw that to the ground as well. She sat up and grabbed the button of his trousers. Harry happily let her unbutton and unzip the pants then drag them down to the center of his thighs. Without a moment’s noticed she had her lips wrapped around his cock, sucking and licking. Harry groaned and buried his hands into her perfectly curled hair. “God they have no fucking idea what you do to me.” He hissed, feeling his now engorged cock hitting the back of her throat.

After another moment, Harry pulled himself from her mouth. He pushed her down onto the bed roughly, but not to hurt her. He removed his trousers quickly, not wanting to waste anymore time. When Harry crawled back onto the bed, between her legs, she smiled up at him, ready for whatever he was about to do to her.

“Do you want me, baby?” Harry asked her teasingly, lining his cock to her soaked cunt. She nodded slowly, he bottom lip between her teeth once again. She whimpered when he pushed just the tip inside. “Tell me.” He smirked when she whined as he pulled out. She stared at him with wide eyes. This game was new. He stuck just the tip in again, a whimper falling from her red painted lips. He pulled out, “Tell me you want me the way I’ve wanted you all night.” She opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t get the words out. She was to preoccupied with him teasing her with the tip of his huge dick. “Baby.” He teased again, it evident in his tone as well. Finally, she got fed up with his games. She sat up then pushed him to the side, making him land on the bed, on his back. She swung her leg over his hip in the most seductive way he’d ever seen. She sunk down on his cock with a heavy sigh.

“I want you.” She moaned as she began to rock her hips slowly. Harry struggled to breathe for just a moment because of the speed of events. “I want you.” She panted again. Harry brought her torso down to meet his. He meshed his lips to hers passionately. It was an interesting turn of events but he loved it. He gripped her hips tightly, to keep her where she was. He began to thrust upward quickly and with force. She cried out loudly into his neck and twisted the sheets beside his head. She tried to lift her hips to ease some of the pressure but Harry just held her where she was. Harry grunted lowly and in rhythm with his thrusts. He was giving it his all. She was going to be screaming his name. No one knew that his perfect princess of a wife could turn into a temptress with a salacious mouth. He wanted that side of her to come out. He loved it. He thrusted harder when she made that delightfully familiar squealing sound. She was about to come. Harry slammed her mouth onto his as he released one of her hips to caress her clit. She broken the kiss with a string of screamed profanities. Harry smirked and flipped them so she was pinned underneath his body.

“Are you ever going to act like that again at an award show?” He asked her with a deep and dominating tone.

“Every fucking time.” She replied with a smirk of her own. Harry slammed his still rock hard dick into her again, eliciting an earth-shattering moan from her lips. He felt his insides waver at the sound. Harry took her wrists in his hands and pinned them to the bed above her head. He pounded into her with force and speed again. Her moans and panting breaths were driving him closer to his own release but he loved playing with her like this. Harry was a bit shocked when she was able to free one of her wrists from his grip. She let her fingers dance down Harry’s side lightly, creating a trail of sensitive skin behind. He smiled gently at her when she gripped his rear. She smirked up at him before giving him a firm swat right on his ass cheek. Harry meshed his mouth to hers fiercely, biting her bottom lip to show his dominance. She screamed out another list of profanities as her insides clenched around his cock. Harry biting her lip had driven her over the edge. She laid shaking underneath him as he still drilled her with everything he had. Another orgasm coursed through her soon after, her body not being able to handle his strong thrusts and intense speed any longer.

Harry’s body grew weak and he started to moan louder. She moved her hips with his trying to bring him to his climax. His thrusts grew uneven and he couldn’t contain it anymore. His legs tensed and his dick twitched inside her. He groaned loudly and lustfully as he came, filling his wife with every ounce of his desire. He collapsed on top of her, exhausted from fucking so hard. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tangled her fingers in his hair. She kissed his shoulders and neck tenderly. Harry lifted himself from her body after just a moment of laying in her arms. He fell to the bed next to her. She smiled as she looked at her husband. His hair was a mess, sticking to his face because of how sweaty he was, but she loved it.

“Ever going to act like that at an awards show again?” Harry asked her with a knowing smile.

“Every fucking time, baby.” She replied with the same smile. Harry pulled her into his arms again. She rested her head on his chest and stroked his sweat soaked skin lovingly. They laid in silence for a long while, just listening to and feeling each other breathing.

“I’m going to have a bruise on my ass.” Harry laughed kissing his her hair lightly.

She looked up at him with sweet, tired eyes, “Sorry, honey.” She then stated, “My lip is bleeding a bit. I can taste it.”

Harry pecked her sweat covered forehead, “Sorry, love.” He then placed his mouth over hers. She moaned slightly when he began to caress her bottom lip with his tongue and suck on it gently, trying to ease the almost non-existent pain. “Maybe next time, we shouldn’t get so carried away.” He murmured backing away.

She shook her head with a smile, “Where’s the fun in that?” Harry smiled as well, not so worried that he’d been too aggressive toward her. “But next time…” She began. “I get to tell you how I feel about you watching me the way you were. All sexy with your bow tie and shirt undone.” She stated with a glint of mischief in her eyes.

Harry smirked, “Why wait?” She grinned as she sat up and he knew that he was in trouble.


I suck at smut :( I’m Sorry

Just a Warning.

Request: Childhood bffs, Harry and Y/N. Y/N warns Harry about the gold diggers of girlfriend he has and he goes off on her.


“Harold, get your lanky, long legs off of me.” You groaned, attempting to push his legs from your lap.

“Rub my toes.” Harry giggled, wiggling his toes in your face, making you squeal and push his feet away, turning your face the other way. 

“Ew, Harry!” 

Harry continued to giggle, removing his legs from you before wrapping his body around yours like a baby gorilla. “Admit that I’m the bestest best friend in the world.” 

“If you don’t let me go, I swear to God, I will post that picture of you sleeping with Niall’s feet in your face.” 

Upon hearing the threat, Harry instantly removed his body with a groan. 

“Y/N! You told me you deleted that.” He whined, propping his legs on his coffee table. 

“I also told you that you were the best Styles.” You shrugged jokingly. 

“Heeey!” Harry elbowed you. 

You laughed, resting your head on his lap, humming in satisfaction as he stroked your hair. 

“Oh! I forgot to mention earlier, I’m letting Les meet my mum and Gemma this week.” Harry informed you. 

You bolted up, looking at him in pure surprise. “You’re what now?” 

He chuckled confusingly. “Letting Les meet mum? And Gem?” 

You chuckled humorlessly, rolling your eyes. “Of course you are. How long have you two been together, again? A week?” 

“Hey, why the sudden bitterness? You said you liked her.” 

“No, no, no,” You shook your head, raising your hands up defensively. “I didn’t say that. Don’t put words into my mouth.” 

Harry’s feet were put on the ground, sitting up. “What’s your problem, Y/N?”

“My problem is that this is going too fast. It always is, Harry! You take them to meet your family, do everything to please them then boom,” You made an explosion gesture with your hands for emphasis, “They’re using you,” You said. “Just can’t handle long distance relationship.” You mocked in a high pitched tone the excuse that the previous girlfriends of your best friend had said. 

“I think this one is ser-” 

“Oh, hop off, Harry. You’re too nice.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “She literally whines when you tell her she can’t tag along to an event full of celebrities, Harry!” You shook your head in disbelief. 

“What the fuck are you trying to say, Y/N?” Harry’s jaw tensed, glaring at you. 

“I’m saying that lovely Les is using you.”

“Oh really? You think she’s some gold digger?” Harry stood up, crossing his arms over his chest. 

You nodded, standing up. “Look, I only want the best for you a-” 

“Well maybe it’s the best if you leave.” 

Your mouth closed in surprise, eyebrows rising. “Wh-What?” 

“You heard me. Let me live my life which apparently you think you understand too well. Let me live my life which is full of gold diggers.” Harry said sarcastically, shooting daggers at you. 

“Are you seriously letting go of 19 years of friendship over a gi-” You were asking in disbelief, tone rising a tad at the shock. 

“Yes, Y/N! Just,” He sighed, “Just go.” 

You stayed quiet for a moment, fighting the urge to cry before nodding. “Fine.” You walked past him, intentionally bumping his shoulder. Right as your hand hovered the door knob, you turned back to look at him. “I-” You paused, looking at Harry who didn’t bother to even turn to look at you. “Yeah, forget it.” You muttered, shaking your head disappointingly before walking out the door. 


I’M GOING TO WRITE A SECOND PART TO THIS AND IT’S GOING TO BE GOOD (i hope so). Let me know what you think! x

Sarge - Names (Drabble Series)

Bucky | Barnes | Buck | Sarge | Jamie | Soldat | Love | James | Epilogue

Character Pairing: Bucky x Female Reader

Summary: She calls Bucky by many different names. Each one portraying a different emotion, motive behind her words changing and telling with every utterance off her lips.

WC: 1341

A/N: Tags are now closed! This gets a little suggestive, but not smutty.

Originally posted by mylastlove-mylastsong

He knew he was in for it whenever she called him Sarge. It slipped out her lips when she was feeling flirty and coy, yet she hardly ever used it subtly.  He loved every second of it. There was no way he could ever escape her charm, especially not when that nickname was whispered in his ear.

They weren’t even a couple the first time she used it. After months of flirty banter, deep conversations, and lingering glances; it was clear there was something between the two of them. Not that either of them was doing anything about it.

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do me a favor?

Pairing: Steve Rogers (Captain America) x Reader (Avenger)

Summary: The Reader is a new Avenger, living with the Avengers, everything’s going fine. Except they tease her for being only 21 and the youngest of them all, by calling her baby.

Warnings: daddy kink, unprotected sex (don’t do this), big age difference

Note: Excuse my bad english, if you find any mistakes, please tell me so I can correct them. Thank you.

Enjoy reading!

Originally posted by your-kylie-me

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