hit it from behind

Sex with Yoongi 😏

Originally posted by yoonseok

Sex with Yoongi

Sex with BTS-series

Warning ⚠️: smut

Yoongi:

Yoongi would like control of the situation. “Go down on me”, “arch your back”, “say my name”

He’d like hitting it from behind, squeezing your ass, and pinching your nipples .

He’d love you sitting on his face, loving how you grind, squeeze your legs, and your fingers in his hair

He’d pull you up to his chest while fucking you from behind. His hand around your throat lightly squeezing.

He’d always buy you lingerie,that he’d rip off of you, hungrily. Don’t worry you’ll get more. Not before he sees you strut in them, bending over, letting him feel the fabric on your skin. The lacy ones.

Low grunts, almost silent because he loves hearing your moans more

He’s quick to grip your hair for leverage

Light spanking if he’s in the mood, but it’s not a must for him.

You being bratty makes him smile. He can’t help it because he thinks it’s cute. But ofc he’ll get you to do what he wants

Naps and cuddling afterwards. He’d put his shirt on you so you’ll be warm. He’d probably sleep naked with his body wrapped around you.

A/N: I keep bias wrecking myself with Yoongi. Someone help.

-Admin Jazzi🥔

this is a story about a sorcerer and a knight. well, a knight-in-training. they go by KiT, a nickname for their title, but a perfectly good name for anyone. kit’s a good squire, for the most part, but they have a knack for getting into trouble.

this time the trouble is they just fuckin decked another knight in the middle of the tavern.

“keep your hands off my friend,” kit tells the shocked personification of grossness, now sitting on his ass on the ground. kit’s pretty sure the message was already sent though the ass-kicking, but it doesn’t hurt to be thorough.

the man splutters for a minute before finding his tongue. “you— you— you piece of shit, you’ll pay for this. i have powerful friends.”

“bring it on,” kit retorts. they’re feeling pretty confident right now.

they’re feeling significantly less confident as two other men step up behind the first guy.

“outside,” the first growls.

“we’re zit and wedge, and we’re going to kick your ass,” the second one clarifies. 

zit nods. “but we don’t want to make a mess of you on mal’s floor, since it was just scrubbed and all.”

kit glances at mal, who they rather thought was a friend, to find her nodding appreciatively. “brawlers these days are so polite. out you three go.”

kit wilts. “but… there’s just one of me.”

it’s around this time, when the two other guys are starting to crack their knuckles and look like they’re going to drag kit outside whether they like it or not, that someone else pushes their way through the small crowd that’s forming.

“’scuse me, pardon me. hello. what’s going on here?”

she’s got bright blue hair, of the kind that you get from mucking around with magic too much. everyone immediately reassesses the situation, and watches her warily. a sorcerer can quickly change the way a brawl plays out, if they feel like intervening. kit sincerely hopes she does.

“miss,” zit jumps in before kit can get a word in, “this young… person, here, just brutally attacked my poor friend, and me and wedge think we ought to be able to teach them a lesson in manners.”

the sorcerer studies him for a moment, as if considering his statement, and kit grabs their chance.

“pimple here is completely leaving out the fact that their friend wouldn’t leave my friend alone, after she asked him to go away twice!”

zit bristles, and looks to the sorcerer for her judgment.

she considers for while. “can anyone vouch for this knight’s statement?”

“i was the one getting hit on!” tea shouts from behind kit’s shoulder.

the sorcerer digests the witness’s statement. “hm. i’m inclined to see this as a case of self-defense, through the channel of someone who was not the self being hit on. i would suggest that all the parties involved accept the ruling of “he who gets their ass kicked probably deserves it”, and move on.”

“fat chance,” wedge growls. “the pack sticks together. we have to defend our leader.”

werewolves, kit sighs internally. it just figured.

there’s a dramatic pause, then the sorcerer says cooly, “you try it, and you’ll get your asses kicked too.”

zit and wedge eye her warily. kit eyes all three of them, which is hard with only two eyes.

“i reckon we could take a sorcerer,” wedge hypothesizes— an idea that would be quickly proven false in any laboratory experiment.

but this is a tavern, and the sorcerer has a delayed reaction, only raising her hands when zit charges at her. kit flinches back, sure she’s about to be crushed, but the next moment flames explode in the small space between the sorcerer and zit. there’s a yelp, and mad scrambling back from the sorcerer.

“i have nowhere to be until book club at midnight,” the sorcerer informs them calmly, her hands still out, palms up and ready to summon more flame. kit squints at them. “so i have plenty of time to teach you a lesson.”

apparently rescinding their hypothesis, all three werewolves make a mad dash for the door and disappear into the night.

the sorcerer smiles victoriously, and shakes her bright hair out of her face. kit squints at her scalp as she turns to them. “all good?”

“yes, thank you,” tea says, sounding impressed. “wow… a fire summoner. i didn’t know there were any teenagers powerful enough.”

kit has no other specific places to squint, so they just stare hard at the sorcerer’s face. “yeah… thanks. that was really cool.”

she waves their thanks off with one hand, a few strands of smoke issuing from her sleeves. “all in a day’s work. i’ll be off now.”

kit leaves tea with mal, though they frankly no longer trust her so much, and follows the sorcerer out the door. “hey, wait! you, blue hair magic person. what are you?”

“a masked vigilante,” she says, after a pause. “without the mask, because magic.”

kit blinks at that, before realizing she’s perfectly right. besides the definite ideas that she’s female and blue-haired, kit seems to forget what she looks like one moment to the next. kinda neat, honestly, though disconcerting.

they shake their head. “no, i mean… you’re not a sorcerer. i’ve seen people summon fire, and it comes from a loosely closed fist, not an open hand. also, your hair is dyed, not magically changed.”

she doesn’t answer for a moment, then looks stumped, and continues to not answer.

“well?” kit asks.

“fine,” she admits. “i’m a sorcerer in training, but the fake mask is about the most complicated magic i can do. the hair is so people will take me seriously when i do masked vigilante stuff.”

“and the fire?” kit persists.

after a moment, she shakes out her sleeve, sending a tiny purple dragon tumbling into her other hand. “my helper. my fire aid, if you will. you’re the first person to notice, you know?”

“just logic and being awesome,” kit says with a shrug, feeling pleased. neither are skills they get to show off a lot. they kinda feel like they’ve earned something for it. “hey, can i ask you a question?”

after a pause, the sorcerer in training says, “go for it.”

“why do you wait a second before responding to anything?”

their question is punctuated by a pause before she answers.

then the sorcerer motions kit closer, and tucks her hair behind her ears. the knight-in-training leans in, gaping. there’s a green dragon no longer than the length of one finger perched behind her ear, claws holding onto her piercings for balance. it unwedges one tiny wing to wave at them.

“what the fuck,” kit says, unable to find a reason for this from logic or being awesome.

“what the fuck,” the dragon repeats, pushing its snoot practically inside the sorcerer’s ear.

“this is peep,” she says. “my hearing is shit, so it helps me out. i call it my hearing aid.”

the draconian hearing aid preens under the knight-in-training’s stare.

“shit,” kit mumbles, for lack of better words.

“shit!” the dragon crows, gleefully.

Feysand reunion:

„And you are High Lady of the Night Court.”

“Indeed she is.”

My blood stopped at the voice that drawled from behind me.

At the scent that hit me, awoke me. My friends began smiling.

I turned.

Rhysand leaned against the archway into the sitting room, arms crossed, wings nowhere to be seen, dressed in his usual immaculate black jacket and pants.

And as those violet eyes met mine, as that familiar half smile faded …

My face crumpled. A small, broken noise cracked from me.

Rhys was instantly moving, but my legs had already given out. The foyer carpet cushioned the impact as I sank to my knees.

I covered my face with my hands while the past month crashed into me.

Rhys knelt before me, knee to knee.

Gently, he pulled my hands away from my face. Gently, he took my cheeks in his hands and brushed away my tears.

I didn’t care that we had an audience as I lifted my head and beheld the joy and concern and love shining in those remarkable eyes.

Neither did Rhys as he murmured, “My love,” and kissed me.

Originally posted by pennytlr

2

So I was sharing some Malec headcanons with @f-f-f-fight and I mentioned an idea I had with regards Magnus’ magic. He loved it. I wrote it. And he did these beautiful art for it. They’re stunning aren’t they? Thank you Seph!!!! I still have every intention of framing them. Just so you know ;).

***

“Alec! Duck!”

He heard the shout and dropped low, body acting without conscious thought, his mind narrowed on the urgent call in Jace’s voice. The air above his head sang with the glide of the Seraph blade flying through the air and then he heard a thud.

The circle member’s body had barely dropped before Alec was yanking out the blade from the gaping hole the blade had made in the middle of the man’s forehead.

He nodded at Jace who nodded back at him and went back to hacking away at circle members and demons alike, his blonde hair glinting in the moonlight in a way that made Alec spin on his feet, heart suddenly beating hard, eyes searching for the glint of silver necklaces which he hadn’t seen since… The breath whooshed out of him and he sighed in relief.

He’s okay. He’s fine.

Magnus’ fingers shot out in a graceful arc and with a blast of his power he decapitated the demon he’d been fighting, watching unimpressed as the demon dissolved into ash.

He lifted his head, as if he could sense Alec’s eyes on him, dark strands falling over his eyes, glowing golden with the slits that entranced and drew you in with the force and power they held.  His eyes held Alec’s for a brief moment and then he gave Alec a cocky grin and dove back into the fight, mind now focused on the circle member that had tried creeping up on him. A driving punch to the solar plexus, an upwards thrust with the heel of his palm that connected with the man’s nose and a direct punch to the face, and the circle member landed with a thud.

Without breaking a sweat, he glided onto the next circle member just as Alec caught running footsteps and raised his blade at the exact same moment a circle member came swinging at him.

His arms shook with the force of the hit and the circle member grinned.

Idiot.

Alec shot his foot out, slamming hard against the circle member’s kneecap, hearing the satisfying crunch of shattering bone that had the man drop with a pained howl. A quick swipe and he took off the man’s head and using the same momentum cleaved the demon that was coming at him from the side.

And then it was a blur of noise and blood and sweat, losing himself to the battle, catching brief glimpses of his lover, his family, his friends, all focused on their fights.

A circle member clipped him and he turned around, grabbed the man’s face, yanked him close and gutted him.

He caught Magnus’ smile just as he dropped the man’s body and smiled back, shaking his head at the wink Magnus tossed at him.

He was just about to turn around when he caught it, the split second when Magnus was distracted looking at him and a circle member swung at him, the edge of the Seraph blade hitting him from behind.

“Magnus!”

Keep reading

There’s no need to size up Mitch Marner

SAN JOSE—Paul Marner has been hearing it almost from the moment his son began dominating minor hockey games around the GTA.

“We’d stand there and listen to people constantly talk about Mitch’s size. ‘Oh my God, he’s way too small.’ ‘Oh my God, he’s going to get killed,’ ” Paul Marner was saying recently. “But as a parent, maybe you’re too close to it. At the time we never thought he was that small.”

Upon more recent review — looking back at video of Mitch’s rise through the ranks of the Greater Toronto Hockey League en route to starring for the Maple Leafs during a remarkable rookie year — a father has come to see things differently.

“I pulled out a game tape the other day from peewee and I thought to myself, ‘Oh my God, he looks like someone’s little brother on the ice.’ ”

Little Mitch, at the time, was playing peewee against boys a year older. At the time Michael Dal Colle, a longtime minor-hockey teammate of Marner’s who went on to be taken fifth overall by the New York Islanders in the 2014 NHL draft, was about 13 years old, standing five-foot-eight and 160 pounds, Paul Marner said. Mitch, at the same time, was four-foot-seven and about 85 pounds. Body-checking was permitted.

“Every coach we played against was sending guys out to kill him. So his whole life, Mitch has dealt with that,” Paul Marner said. “And right now, even though there’s some huge guys in the NHL, I think he’s at the least size disadvantage he’s probably ever had his whole life.”

“It was eating him up inside to be out of the lineup — it’s been hard on him,” said Matt Martin, the Leafs forward. “But for a guy like that, you just want to make sure he’s taking care of himself.”

Paul Marner said questions about Mitch’s long-term durability have always gone hand in hand with concerns about his skimpy frame. A couple of years back, when Marner was a draft-eligible 17-year-old racking up a nightly average of two points a game for the OHL’s London Knights, scouts flocked to see him play against the hard-hitting Oshawa Generals, then coached by Leafs assistant D.J. Smith. The fact that Marner suffered a fracture in his elbow that night — this on a hit from behind that earned Oshawa’s Will Petschenig an eight-game suspension — didn’t exactly end the conversation about his chances of weathering the professional grind.

“It’s almost a stigma that won’t go away,” Paul Marner said of concerns about the implications of Marner’s size. “But it doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

The hockey father, to that point, said he can count on one hand the instances in which his son has been hurt on a rink. There was a dirty slash that broke Mitch’s arm around age 10. There was a hip flexor issue that kept him out a few weeks when he was about 15. And then there was a case of whiplash suffered as a Knight in 2015, this after Erie’s Mason Marchment cuffed Marner with a stick to the jaw. Marchment was suspended 10 games.

Cheap shots happen, and anyone can get injured. But it’s worth noting the injury that kept Marner out of the lineup these past couple of weeks wasn’t a matter of a bigger player preying on the small-framed Maple Leaf. It was Marner who initiated the contact with Columbus’s Boone Jenner that ended with the Maple Leaf crashing awkwardly into the boards.

“Durability-wise, I’ve never been worried about it. He’s always got his head up,” Paul Marner said. “You look at the amount of time he’s played — how much he was on the ice in minor hockey and in the OHL, and how much he has the puck in the NHL — I think he’s pretty durable.”

It’s a compelling enough case. Mitch, for his part, has long been blase about concerns about his size.

“You can’t do anything about your body,” Marner said. “I’ve always been in this situation.”

The situation, mind you, is improving. While Mitch weighed in at about 160 pounds when the Leafs drafted him fourth overall in 2015, he has since put on weight. Exactly how much weight? Well, Mitch can be coy about this subject.

“It’s whatever it says on the sheet. 170? That’s what it says on the sheet,” he said.

Toronto’s No. 16, in contrast, is downright forceful about his height.

“I’m six feet,” he recently said in a declaration that drew guffaws around the dressing room. “Nobody believes that.”

Mitch, who doesn’t turn 20 until May, said he’s of the belief that he’s still growing. He said his older brother, Chris, had a late spurt around age 20 or 21 and now stands about six-foot-two. And there’s height on mother Bonnie’s side of the family. She’s five-foot-10. Paul Marner, who’s also about five-foot-10, said lately he finds himself looking up at his youngest son, whom he figures can easily add another 20 pounds of muscle to his frame before he’s fully formed.

Said Mitch: “It’s a thing in our family — stuff happens late.”

This is another claim that doesn’t go over well in the Maple Leafs room.

“He tells me he’s still growing all the time,” Martin said, rolling his eyes. “Good luck with that one. He thinks he’s going to be 6-3. I know he’s young. But he’s not that young.”

Mitch Marner shrugged and smiled: “If I grow or not, I’m happy how I am now.”

If how he is now is healthy and back in the lineup as Toronto’s push for the playoffs continues, there’s a fan base that likes him just fine, too.

Model Behavior

Summary: Jack is getting ready to do a photo shoot for Alicia’s friend.  Bitty comes along to keep him company, when Bitty suddenly becomes the model. Jack’s reaction to the photo is… interesting.  A quick little ficlet which takes place during Jack’s senior year.  Also on AO3


Jack hated photo shoots. Absolutely hated them, but Alicia had a favor called in and he found himself in a position of not being able to say no. And so, begrudgingly, Jack Zimmermann was on his way to Boston for a one-day shoot.

“Like an actual shoot shoot?” Bitty asked wide-eyed as he told him about it over some ginger peach pie the evening before.

“Yeah. It’s for some clothing line. They’re going to dress me up like a puppet and then I have to stand there, and smile like an idiot.”

“I dunno, it sounds so fun to me. I’d love to model!” Bitty said then sighed, “Alas, I am vertically challenged.”

“Euh… do you want to come with me?” Jack asked pushing his pie around the plate with his fork.

“Really? And like watch?!” Bitty practically bounced off his seat.

“I guess so, Bittle. Don’t make me take it back.”

“No! I’ll behave. I promise! It’s going to be so much fun.”

+++

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

For the suggestion thingy could you do Lancelot but like actually klance with like creep lotor hitting on lance, lance being weirded out and Keith being jealous and protective? Sorry if that made no sense. Anyways, the dialogue prompt could be something like "Look, just leave me alone, alright!"

I hope this was what you wanted! Also, hopes and dreams for S3 tbh


           “Look, just leave me alone, alright?” Lance backpedaled until he was pressed up against the stone wall. “I’m flattered, really, but you’re… you’re, uh, not exactly my type.” Lotor and his bouquet of blindingly blue flowers seemed to droop in unison.

           “The Galra have caused you much pain, I understand.” He bounced back with a toothy grin so fast Lance actually yelped from surprise. “But I can be different. Young Paladin, believe me, your team does not appreciate your talents, your dedication, your­–” Lotor leaned in close enough to smell him– “beauty.” Lance felt himself go red as he tried to subtly inch sideways along the wall.

           “Yeah see it’s not so much the Galra part that bothers me,” he said, a certain boy with a frustratingly attractive mullet flashing unbidden into his head, “as it is the ‘I murder people with a fiery sword’ bit.” Lotor’s hand slammed into the wall beside his head, preventing Lance from moving further sideways.

           “All is fair in love and war, isn’t it?” he asked, and had the audacity to lick his lips with his face bare inches away from Lance. He caught Lance’s hand and pressed the bouquet into it. “I would think you would be impressed with a bit of swordplay.” Lance thought his face might spontaneously combust.

           “You sure know how to use your pickup lines, I’ll give you that,” he said. “Do you… do this with a lot of people?” Lotor’s jaw dropped comically, pressing his now bouquet-free hand against his heart.

           “I have learned the art of seduction, of course, but you, dear Lance, you are no ordinary partner. All the others, they were nothing more than practice so that when I found you—” He plucked a stray flower from the bouquet and tucked it behind Lance’s ear– “I would be prepared to offer you my best performance.”

           “I, uh, um, can I—?” Lotor smiled, far, far too close to Lance’s face for comfort, and he could swear Lotor’s eyes kept flickering to his lips.

           “Yes?”

           “I’m just gonna… Um…” He was interrupted by the door getting kicked in, revealing a furious Keith behind it.

           “GET AWAY FROM HIM!” Keith shouted, charging at Lotor. He sidestepped easily, lifting Lance out of the way as well so that he wouldn’t get skewered when Keith missed his target. Lance took the opportunity to scramble away as Lotor dodged another swipe from Keith, who growled in frustration, circling the Galra prince. As soon as Lotor was closest to the door, he threw a last grin at Lance.

           “You know how to find me!” he called. He winked, then sprinted for the door and slammed it in Keith’s face as he tried to follow. They heard a heavy bar fall in place across it and Keith growled in frustration when it wouldn’t open, before turning back to look at Lance. His eyes raked over him with a frown.

           “Why are you holding flowers?” he asked. Lance, glancing down, realized he still had the bouquet and dropped it promptly, going red again.

           “That… That dude is weird. He kind of tried to, um. He was trying to seduce me.” Keith stomped over and for a second Lance thought he was going to hit him, but instead he just plucked the flower out from behind his ear and crushed it in his hand.

           “Flirting is not going to win over the Galra, Lance,” he said.

           “Hey!” he protested. “He started it!”

           “Sure.”

           “He did!”

           “And now you sound like a kindergartener. Are you going to help me get this door open or not?” Lance grumbled, trudging over to where his bayard had landed after Lotor disarmed him. He hefted it up and told Keith to move aside, aiming for the hinges on the door. Keith watched him.

           “He didn’t actually hurt you, right?” Keith finally asked quietly. Lance paused, one hinge blasted to pieces.

           “The emotional damage was far worse,” he said, rolling his eyes and taking aim at the next hinge. “Why the quiznak would a Galra flirt with me?” The second hinge fell to the floor, leaving the door free to swing backwards into the room.

           “I can think of a few reasons,” Keith muttered very quietly, and before Lance could react, he had ducked under the bar and took off running through the castle. Lance gaped after him. He blinked once, twice, and then ducked under the bar so quickly he banged his head, and chased after him.

           “Keith! KEITH! COME BACK! DID YOU JUST FLIRT WITH ME TOO? KEIIIIIITHHHHHHH!”

Send me a prompt!

Gravity

// character: peter parker/spider-man

// pairing: peter x reader

// summary: “I knew you’d catch me. You always catch me.”

***

You didn’t expect there to be this many guards.

The amount of black-clad, heavily-armed, and well-trained soldiers chasing after you could probably fill a stadium, you think as your feet pound against the sleek floors of the hallways, searching for a way out.

The bio-weapon is tucked neatly in the bag slung around your shoulder. It’s a simple retrieval mission, get in, acquire the weapon, get out. But you start to think maybe you’ve bitten off a little more than you can chew. As a bullet whizzes directly towards where your head was seconds before, you grit your teeth and run harder.

They’re everywhere, and closing fast. Yet another hallway leads to a dead end, and you curse, ducking into a nearby door and shutting it softly behind you. “Where the hell are you?” you hiss into your comm link.

“The cops just picked up the ringleader,” comes Peter’s swift reply. “He’ll be behind bars soon. I’m coming.”

You bite your lip. “Hurry. I can’t get out; they’ve got all the exits blocked.”

“Air vents?”

“Sealed, all of them. Peter,” you breathe, and for just a moment, the fear creeps into your voice, “there’s too many of them. I can’t take them all.”

There’s a slow exhale on the other end, and you can picture the tiny downturn of his lips, the way he fidgets with his hands when he’s nervous. “Listen to me, just sit tight, okay? The police are on there way, and I’ll be there in a bit.”

You pause for a moment, listening to the thundering of footsteps. "I don’t think waiting is an option.” Silence replies, and you take a deep breath. “Meet me on the northeast side of the building, okay? Three minutes. Be ready.”

“What? What are you–”

“Three minutes, Peter. Just trust me.”

You hear him sigh,  and there’s a long hesitation. “Okay.”

Your fingers are shaking ever so slightly as they set a timer on your watch. You open the door, just a crack, barely enough to see out of. The hall looks empty. Holding your breath, you push it further and slip out, barely making a sound.

You slip into a rhythmic jog, keeping your footfalls muffled while sticking close to the walls. When you stop, across from you is a floor-to-ceiling window, orange light from the sinking sun streaming in and making the room glow. There’s two halls spreading out from here, but both of them lead to locked doors. You take a deep breath and glance through the glass. You’re standing on the fifth floor, the concrete sidewalk looking merciless beneath you. The elevator’s shut down, the stairs blocked. There’s no other way out.

Maybe this isn’t one of your best ideas. Just a second off in timing could leave you splattered on the pavement or overwhelmed by guards. But there’s not much of a choice right now. Two minutes, fourteen seconds. Your heart thumps uncomfortably as you watch seconds tick down, waiting. You’re nervous, but Peter always has your back, you remind yourself. Even before he got his powers, he was your hero. He’ll catch me. He always does.

You hear the attacker before he pulls the trigger, ducking out of the way as his bullet hits the glass behind you. As a web of cracks blooms from the hole, you throw yourself at the man, easily swiping his gun and knocking him to the floor. Fortunately, he doesn’t get back up, but a fresh wave of soldiers streams into the room. Peter’s still a full minute out.

For a few more seconds, you can stand your ground. You hold them off fairly well, except they just keep coming, like some multiplying hydra; every time you take out one soldier, four take its place. You’re backed further and further against the glass. Swallowing hard, you eye the street below you nervously. Your timer’s still ticking down from twelve, but right about now, you don’t have many options.

“Peter?” you say, and, without waiting for a reply, “I love you.”

Glass explodes from the window as you throw yourself through it. You’re falling, spiraling towards the ground, a helpless victim of gravity. You can’t even hear the scream rip from your throat, don’t even feel the glass slicing your skin. Adrenaline rushes through you. The air is all-consuming as you cut through it, the concrete getting closer and closer.

You’re vaguely aware of onlookers staring from the ground at the body falling from the sky. Your body, soon to be nothing more than a splatter on the pavement. He’ll come, you tell yourself, screwing your eyes shut and letting your heart race at the speed of sound as fear washes over you. He’ll catch me.

He’ll always catch me.

And then he’s there. Suddenly, you’re pressed against his chest, with his heartbeat in your ears alongside your own, and he’s the only real thing in the world. You’re in his arms, you’re in Peter’s arms, and here, you’re safe. You let yourself breathe again.

He’s yelling something, but it’s lost to the roar of the wind and the rush of blood in your head. You’re low enough to brush the tops of cars if you point your toes, and it hits you how close you came. But you’re alive. You’re with him.

Peter touches down neatly on the sidewalk, clinging to you for a long moment before yanking you into an alley, away from clicking cell phones and prying eyes. He pulls off his mask, revealing pale cheeks and wide, terrified eyes beneath them.  "What were you thinking?“ he yells, his hands clutching yours tightly enough to make his knuckles go white, even now. "Jumping out a freaking window? I thought…God, Y/N, I thought I was gonna lose you.” He pulls you close again, your body curving into his as he presses his head against your shoulder. “If I had been even a second later–”

“You weren’t,” you say softly.

“But I could’ve been.”

“Peter,” you pull back, tilting his chin upwards with your hand and wrapping your arms around his neck, “I’m okay. You saved me. I knew you’d catch me.”  You look at him, his deep brown eyes finally locking on yours. “You always catch me.”

He lets out a little breath of laughter, running his hand through your hair, and it brings a smile to your face. “I swear, if you scare me like that again…” he warns.

You smirk. “You’ll what? Ground me?” Grinning, you slip the bag over your head and dangle it in front of him. “I got the weapon, Spidey-boy.”

A smile eases its way onto his face as he swipes it out of your hands. “After we return this to the police, you’re buying me a coffee as an apology” he announces, slipping on his mask. “And a biscotti. I think I deserve it.”

“Pig,” you say with a snort, playfully bumping your shoulder into his.

Peter laughs and grabs your waist, letting you hook your arms around his neck. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he whispers softly, letting out a small breath as he launches a web at the rooftop and swings into the sky. “And I love you, too.”

I shall call you Fluffy

Our party is 3 new players, the DM is the only one who has played before. This is the second day and our first dungeon.

DM: You enter the cave and see 2 wolves chained to a large rock and very angry, (me, an elf) still attacks first.

Me: I use my bow and aim for the closer one’s head *rolls a 18+3*.

DM: it hits right between the eyes. A third wolf walks out from behind the rock.

Bard: I use healing word on (me).

Half-elf: I attempt to pet the third wolf.

Me and bard: Don’t

DM: it latches onto your hand, take *rolls die* 8 damage.

Half-elf: Are you serious!

DM: 8 damage or 3 and lose that hand make it forever impossible to use your bow.

Bard: We told you not to pet it but you didn’t listen.

Me: Your a disgrace to elves, I swing my twin swords at the wolf NOT attacking (half-elf).

Half-elf: Are you joking! There’s still a wolf attached to my arm!

IS MONA’S “DEATH” AND CHARLOTTE’S MURDER CONNECTED TO THE “SECRET” MUSIC VIDEO?

I was watching the music video of Secret by The Pierces (PLL’s theme song) and I found some VERY interesting connections between Mona and Charlotte/”A”, as well as Mona’s “death” and Charlotte’s murder.

In the music video, we see Catherine (the BLONDE) and Allison (the BRUNETTE; yes, she has the same name as Ali from PLL but we’re gonna ignore that, considering she has two L’s in her name anyway). They’re the two singers that make up The Pierces. Catherine and Allison are having tea when Catherine says she has to tell her something, but makes Allison swear to never tell. We never see what Catherine tells her, but as many assume, it is that Catherine murdered someone.

The next scene has Allison on the phone talking to someone, and she is revealing Catherine’s secret to them. This is parallel to when Mona called Aria telling her that she has proof that Alison is “A”.

Keep in mind that Catherine is blonde. We see her walking down the hallway heading to Allison’s bedroom, just like how “A” (Charlotte) broke into Mona’s house and headed up the stairs.

Catherine then enters Allison’s bedroom, and Charlotte walks into Mona’s bedroom.

Both victims are then “killed” and dragged around.

What I found intriguing is that Catherine put a blonde wig on Allison, much like Mona’s hair having been dyed blonde in the Dollhouse.

The episode Mona “dies” is 5x12, titled “Taking This One to the Grave”, which is obviously a homage to the song itself. Both victims are seemingly dead.

That’s until Mona was revealed to be alive in 5x25 “Welcome to the Dollhouse”, and Allison comes back alive at the end of the music video. Allison KILLS Catherine in revenge by strangling her.

Who else died by strangulation? CHARLOTTE! She was hit with a rod then strangled from behind, like Catherine was.

IS THIS HINTING TOWARDS CHARLOTTE’S KILLER?

DID MONA KILL CHARLOTTE IN REVENGE?

Thanks for reading and tell me what you think! ^_^

Show Me || Jeon Jungkook

Summary: While Jungkook and you talk on Skype, he begins to get turned on by some of the things you do.

Genre: Smut [Dirty Talk]

-

It was almost 2 in the morning and you were up playing games on your laptop. You didn’t know what to do anyways. You were falling asleep as you did so until you heard the Skype jingle pop up on your screen. You’re eyes popped open once you saw Jungkook’s image as the contact.

You reached over the turn on the lamp and answered the call. You then saw a sleepy Jungkook with his oversized white shirt on. You smiled and waved at him through the screen. “You look tired.” you say. He shook his head before talking. “I was until I called you.”

You smiled, pushing your hair behind your ear. “Are you’re parents out again?” you asked and he shook his head. “Nope. Downstairs sleep.” he pushes his hair back. “What have you been doing before you called me?”

“Oh nothing. Just thinking of you. Like I always do.” he winked at me. “Yes, I’m pretty irresistible, aren’t I?” I sarcastically said. He chuckled and rested his head on his hand. “I wish you were here. It’s boring here.” he pouted. I crooked my head to the side before you saw him staring at something that was not actually near your face.

“What are you looking at?” you looked around. He made his eyes back to you and sheepishly smiled. “N-Nothing.” he says, but looks back down towards, hesitantly. What is he looking at? “Really? Nothing?” you raise an eyebrow. You laughed at his sudden awkwardness, wondering what was going on in his head.

Well, in his head he was thinking of the million ways to fuck you. He noticed the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra under that sort of see through shirt. His imagination went wild, but he couldn’t do anything about it. What frustrated him was that you weren’t there with him.

“Jungkook?”

He snapped out of his thoughts and looked at you through the laptop screen. “Are you okay?” you asked since he was zoning out so much. He didn’t want to lie or else he’d have to deal with the problem anyway. So an idea popped in his head.

He rubbed his throbbing area, hissing a little before looking back towards you. “I really wish you were here.” he groaned and you nodded. “I do too. But hey, you can come over tomo-“

“I need you.”

You paused got the message instantly. You hesitated to talk so he did it for you. “I’ve been thinking of some things.” he led you on. You looked down and realized you weren’t wearing a bra. You smirked and looked up to the screen. “What were they?” you asked pulling some of your hair so that it would run down your shoulders. “How I was gonna treat you when we meet tomorrow.” he said making you wetter by the second. You only wore that oversized shirt and panties, so you thought it would be pretty easy to tease him.

You over the laptop a little further away from you so he could see most of your body. He bit his lip as you played with the hem of your shirt. “Do you want this off?” you ask. “If you don’t mind.” he replied, pleased by the way you teased him.

You slowly raised the shirt over your head before throwing it at the end of your bed. You grabbed one breast as you rubbed lightly on the other. He imagined sucking harshly at each one at the same speed your fingers rubbed at your hard nipple.

He imagined how your boobs would bounce whenever you rode him. You pulled on your lace underwear before slipping those off with ease. He noticed how wet your were and chuckled. “You’re soaking.” he commented. You saw his cock spring out from his sweatpants as he started pumping it slowly.

You stuck your middle finger inside you, moving at his pace. “You want me there right now, don’t you?” he asks going a little faster and you did as well. You didn’t say anything, scared it would come out as a moan. “Don’t you like it when I hit you from behind as I wrapped your hair around my fist. Making you scream letting everyone know you’re mine, baby girl?”

You couldn’t help but let put a soft moan when he went faster. Him pounding into you causing bruises to form on your ass was the best feeling. You made your finger go deeper and faster. “Baby, I can’t hear you.” he smirked. “I can’t be so loud, Jungkook. My parents might hear.” you struggled to let out. This only made Jungkook to go faster, but you didn’t reach his speed. You knew that would be too much for you.

You saw him look at you and raise an eyebrow. You went a ahead and reached his speed, squeezing your eyes shut. Him not being there was torture, but you thought of something that might help the both of you out. “You said you wanted me to ride you right?” you asked and he nods.

You took your finger out and grabbed your pillow (not the one you sleep on) and put it between your legs. You flipped over so that you were on top of the pillow. Jungkook was surprised, and bit his lip. “I’ll ride my pillow for you then.” you say and begin grinding on the pillow.

“Show me how bad you want me, baby girl. Show me how bad you want to ride me.” he says squeezing his cock and moving up and down. You bring your hands I front of you, gripping the pillow so that it would stay still as you rode it.

You were grinding on your pillow in a normal speed, but Jungkook wanted you to go faster. The faster you went the more noise you would make, but he didn’t care. You noticed how he jerked off in a much faster speed so you met his pace and immediately began to whimper.

“Fuck you look so sexy.“ He groaned as went even faster than he was before. You could hear the slaps from the other side of the screen as he threw his head back.

You took your hand and slapped your own ass making both you and him go crazy. Your moans got higher each time as you were close to your high. You went faster, massaging one of your nipples. "Mm, Jungkook. Im close.”

“So am I. Keep going, baby.” He growled not even trying to control his moans. “Ah, shit Y/N” you let out a long moan, your mouth hanging open. The both of you came at the same time. You panted as he let go of himself chuckling.

“You were pretty loud.” He says and you look over at him. “Was I?!” You yell whispered and got off the pillow and threw your shirt back on. “I cant wait to come over tomorrow.” He says and pulls his sweatpants back up.

“Then you’ll be riding me foreal.” He winked.

adiossnoreador  asked:

I love your buff/bara Tavs! Could you do a human one?

strong tav w/ a soft tum is a favorite of mine
he decorates his prosthetics w/ glittery pokemon stickers

The Arrangement: Part 5

Title:  The Arrangement: Part 5

Summary:  He’s a mechanic. She’s a lonely woman with more money than she knows what to do with. Fate brings them together and sparks fly. But only for six weeks. That’s the arrangement.

Need to catch up? The Arrangement Master Post

Author: Dean’s Dirty Little Secret

Characters:  Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count:  2971

Warnings: NSFW, explicit language, sexual content, angst

Author’s Notes:  This is a multi-part series. Shifts between multiple points of view.

Originally posted by justjensenanddean

Keep reading