ho's lips

4

i mean how can he have a straightface thinking of those words when I am trying my best to hide my squealing noise from my sleeping parents next door.

Mi sono innamorata di te quando la prima volta mi hai sorriso, quando ancora non sapevo il tuo nome, quando ancora non sapevo associare una voce al tuo viso.
Mi sono innamorata di te quando la prima volta mi hai stretta a te, proprio quando ne avevo più bisogno, proprio quando non ti volevo accanto.
Mi sono innamorata di te quando la prima volta ho capito che nessuno al mondo è come te, perché nulla ha senso senza di te.
Mi sono innamorata di te quando la prima volta mi hai detto ti amo e le tue labbra hanno toccato le mie, quando tu mi chiedevi di restare, quando io volevo restare.
Mi sono innamorata di te ogni singolo giorno da quando sei andato via, perché ogni cosa con te ha senso, perché con te vale la pena lottare.
—  Now-imbroken
Santa’s Lap

You’re welcome @asirenscalling @thenightmarebeforebucky @thatawkwardtinyperson @lady-thor-foster @sammyissassy

Word Count: 1169 
Pairings: Bucky x Reader 
Warnings: Christmas, Dirty Santa, Sexy Husband, Smut, Smutty Smut Smut!

Originally posted by theunofficialsebstan

Originally posted by daisydae

“C’mon, baby! Time to sit on Santa’s lap!” You exclaimed, pulling your four year old son along. The mall’s Santa looked extremely realistic this year and your son lit up like a Christmas tree. 

“Santa!” He babbled over and over again, making grabby hands toward the man’s face. Bucky chuckled deeply behind you. 

You grinned and nodded, “Gotta be nice, okay? You can’t pull Santa’s beard like you do your daddy’s.” 

Santa was quick to pull your son onto his lap before he could run away. When he looked up at you, his mouth seemed to drop slightly. He cleared his throat, and in a low tone he asked, “Would Mommy like to sit on my other leg?” 

Your brows furrowed.

Keep reading

Sonny looking at Raf in Star-Struck Victims

fyriagita reviewed: (…) Anyway, if you still take prompt, would you consider make a story where Gruvia children guessing the gender of their new sibling and how they react differently? I think it will be so cute to see they have different opinion. Hahahaha.

                                                         #

Gray looked at his family, his wife and their two sons sitting on the floor around the coffee table. It had taken Juvia some maneuver because of her growing stomach but she had managed with her husband’s help.

Daaaaaad.” Gris whined. “Why are we all here?” The six-year-old asked, cleared bored with the family gathering. Gris was pretty much a carbon copy of his father in appearance (and personality) with the exception of his deep blue eyes and lighter skin color he inherited from his mother.

“Because your mother and I went to the doctor today and he wrote in a piece of paper if you two are getting a brother or a sister." 

Juvia opened her purse and took the folded paper from inside.

"We didn’t look yet.” She told them. “We thought we should learn about the baby’s gender together.” The blunette was clearly excited.

“Yay! Baby!” River, their three-year-old clapped his hands, excited and Gray chuckled. River had his mother’s personality, that was for sure. He never hid his emotions and was the sweetest child. Physically he inherited less Fullbuster’s genes than his brother, with Juvia’s nose and mouth alongside with the blue eyes but it was clear to anyone he was Gray’s child.

“So, boys.” Gray said the kids’ eyes focused on him and he smirked. “What do you think we are getting? Another boy for us or a girl for your mama?”

Mama will be happy with either, thank you very much.” She said pointedly while rubbing her stomach lovingly. Gray didn’t care if they got another boy or a girl either, all he wanted was a healthy baby.

“Come on, you must be tired of having boys.” He chuckled. “They are quite handful.”

Juvia laughed. “Another female around would be rather refreshing. You two look too much like your father.” Juvia pointed to their sons theatrically, who grinned exactly like Gray. “See? Look at them! How can Juvia get mad with such cute Gray-sama faces.” She playfully pinched Gris’ cheek and the boy laughed, trying to evade her hands.

Mom!”

Juvia tried to do the same with River but the little boy giggled and managed to get to Gray’s lap to escape her. “Help, Daddy! Help!”

“I got you, buddy.” Gray said to his son, smirking.

She smiled and rested her back on the couch behind her. “But really, Juvia is fine with whichever. This baby is already a surprise, whatever we get Juvia is sure will get into as much trouble as you two.” She pointed at their children. “With your father’s genes plus two big brothers, this little one will be trouble no matter the gender.”

While Gris and River were carefully planned, baby number three was not. Apparently, you have to wait a couple of days after a vasectomy to have sex again, but Gray failed to listen to it so there they were, about to find out their new baby’s gender. It was a surprise but thankfully they got their minds around it really fast and were happy to welcome their new child (as long as it was their last baby - they would be outnumbered already with three).

“River.” Gray looked down to his son, who sat comfortably on his lap and the boy looked up to his father. “What do you want, huh? A brother or a sister?”

“Brother! To play!” He said, excited and then pouted. “Gris don’t play with River anymore, Daddy." 

Gray raised an eyebrow. "Girls play too.”

“Girls are silly.” River said, serious.

“Mama is a girl. Is Mama silly?” Gray asked.

River frowned and looked at Gray as if he were crazy. “Mama is mama.”

“Of course she is.” Gray nodded, trying to be serious and Juvia giggled.

“How about you, honey?” She asked Gris, a hand caressing his hair. “What do you think we are getting?”

“I want a girl.” The little boy told her. “So I don’t have to share my room and my toys. Again.” He looked at his mother pointedly. When he heard about being a big brother, he was quite excited but when he realized it means sharing his toys, the excitement died a bit.

“Let’s see.” Juvia smirked and looked at her husband. “How about you, Gray-sama? Any preferences?”

“Yes, that one’s gotta be an Ice Mage, no matter the gender.” He put a hand on her stomach. “Hear me, kid? I lost River to Water Magic but you will join me and Gris on Ice Magic.” Since they turned three, their children’s magic was apparent. “Now let’s see what we are having.”

Gray grabbed the piece of paper Juvia had put on the coffee table and opened, reading its content while River stared at the paper too. He smiled at the word and River looked up, not understanding what the letters meant.

Juvia and Gris were also looking at him with similar blue eyes filled with expectation.

“Well…” He told them. “We are getting a girl.”

“Yes!” Gris whooped, happy. “No sharing my toys!”

Juvia couldn’t contain her grin as she looked down to her stomach, caressing it slowly and the tears threatening to fall from her eyes. “Oh, a little girl.” She looked up to her husband. “We are having a little girl!”

“We are.” Gray grinned and leaned to kiss her lips. “You can admit now you were hooting for a girl, you know?”

“Maybe Juvia was leaning a teeny  tiny bit towards a girl, this time. You were too, admit it.” He shrugged, non-committal but he had also been leaning on getting a girl. Juvia frowned when she looked down to River and saw hos lower lips trembling as he was close to crying. “Oh, baby. What’s wrong?” River finally started to cry when he got up from his father’s lap so he could hug his mother. “Tell mama, honey.”

“River not win?” He asked between sobs and Gray tried his best to hide his snort and laughing fit with the kid’s reaction.

“Oh, honey.” Even Juvia chuckled as River hugged her while half-lying on her stomach. “It was not a game, no one won.”

“I did!” Gris said, proud of himself which prompted his younger brother to cry again. “I guessed it right!”

“Alright, come on, Gris. Let’s go outside.” Gray said to the child when Juvia gave him an exasperated look. “Let your mom calm your brother down.”

“Thank you.” Juvia mouthed to her husband while he left the room with their eldest son and returned to speak to River softly, calming him down.

A girl.

Perhaps a little girl with blue hair like Juvia and just as beautiful and kind. Or maybe another one with Gray’s traits as dominant, dark hair and way too stubborn. Her eyes, though. Juvia’s eyes were too beautiful not to pass on.

Gray smiled. It didn’t really matter in the end, though. He just wanted a happy healthy child like his boys were and soon they would get their little girl to complete their family.

Life was good.

                                                        #

AN: I think it’s no news that I’m a sucker for some Gruvia family moments, huh? HAHA

kaitrionabalfe  asked:

I'm in dire need of a fluffy scene where Claire tries to read the lines on Jamie's palm and she ends up failing miserably.

Liv says: So this isn’t fluff, so to speak—but I hope it’s still fun! Set about 2-3 years before puir Frank the Mailman died in the Three Witches AU. No worries if you haven’t read it. This one stands alone! :)


Intersection: A Three Witches Story

Claire knew this was against coven rules. Like, totally outside the realm of acceptable witch behavior.

To dole out one’s magical talents—particularly at the county fair—was a bit manipulative (in regards to the customers), a bit sad (in regards to Claire). Still, she liked to think she was working for a kind of greater good. Ensuring the happiness of all mankind! And that was almost admirable, wasn’t it? Giving hopeful glimmers of adulthood to the stork-like teenagers, comforting the mopey singletons who trudged around, heads bent? She’d offered such assurances as:

“A new man will come into your life. A handsome one—with a huge prick! His name…I think his name begins with a ‘T’.” (This to the recent divorcee, clutching her naked ring finger like a burn. She hadn’t known what a “prick” was but was no less forthcoming with her money.)

Or this, to the bucktoothed 16-year old picking at his acne scars: “You’ll be the coolest person in college. Captain of the ultimate frisbee team!” He’d been disappointed at that one, enormous chompers clamping over his bottom lip. “Ho ho ho there, young man!” she’d said then. “Ultimate frisbee is cool where you’re going. The coolest cool.” And then he’d smiled, a patchwork of teeth and holes, which Claire hoped someone might find endearing. A nice and wholesome blind girl, maybe.

And then this, to the both of them: “For just $5 more, I can guarantee it! All you have to do is buy this magical rock and carry it with you wherever you go.” Nevermind that said magical rock was actually from Claire’s backyard. Nevermind that several of them were speckled in bird shit. Maybe some cicada guts.

But that was the thing about desperate Mortals. Metaphorically speaking, their whole lives were a succession of bird shit plops and smeared bug guts. So they didn’t even notice when it was covering their $5, not-magical rock.

“Yes please! I’ll take two!” the divorcee had cried, handing Claire a ten dollar bill. (Did she think this would bring two men into her life? Because that’s not how Claire’s bird shit rocks worked.)

“Um. Yeah. That’s sounds pretty sick,” said Beaver Bobby. “I’ll buy a rock.” He’d paid in all quarters but, hey, beggars can’t be choosers.

If her best friend Gillian were here, she would likely call this “an exploitative farce,” two terms she would’ve picked up from her beloved Word of the Day calendar.

Claire,” she would hiss, “this is such an exploitative (Wednesday’s word) farce (last Friday’s word).” And then she’d pull out her Moleskin, update her word count with a self-satisfied tick. Her record, she claimed, was sixty words in a single morning, and Claire imagined a horrible plague descending upon their town, zombifying everyone until they could only grunt “verisimilitude.” Gillian thought an expanded vocabulary made her smarter but, really, it just increased her smart-assedness to a barely tolerable level.

Luckily, Gillian wasn’t here to offer one of her impressive synonyms because she’d bailed on their plans. If Claire could place money on it—and she couldn’t, with only $7 to her name, the very reason for this “manipulative/sad/exploitative farce”—Gillian was protesting GMO’s one county over. Perhaps arguing for the rights of beluga whales. Or, and this was the most likely, she was loitering at the Creamy Whip, breasts thrust at a very specific angle so that customers’ cones would find their shirts and not their mouths.

Psh! Now if that wasn’t an “exploitative farce” then Claire didn’t know what was. Gillian had mosquito bite boobs and a push-up bra more magical than her own powers.

But here was the thing: Claire wasn’t completely faking it. She wasn’t, so to speak, wearing a bra with three inches of padding. She could read palms, see futures unfurl, weblike, across strangers’ skins. Forks, divots, complex branches—each had such a distinct voice, that Claire had no doubt as to whether or not, say, Mr. Duncan over there would choke on a hot dog and die very suddenly. Or whether young Malva—that girl with the cotton candy and ruffled socks—would pop out a kid by the time she was 17. Claire, being a witch, knew precisely what would befall her clients by simply looking at their hands.

But of course, teenage pregnancy and death by synthetic meat logs weren’t exactly good for customer satisfaction. And so Claire would read Mr. Duncan’s palm, and she would see Mr. Duncan’s red face, gasping on a particularly troublesome bit of hot dog, but say he’d live until he was 85. A little white lie for a happy client. And a happy client meant A) money, B) a potential second visit, and thus C) more money. The $5 rocks weren’t scams, just for-profit business cards.

So she was lying, but not, y’know, totally lying. She’d deal with the prevention of hot dog-induced deaths later, when it better benefitted her monthly budget. (Because just as she wasn’t a complete liar, she wasn’t a complete asshole either.)

The fair had died down to a trickling of stragglers: mostly drunks, a couple of junkies who’d staggered into Nayawenne County for cheap-rate smack. Sighing, Claire stood to begin packing up, turned off the moody sound effects, gathered Gillian’s stack of Tarot cards (all hand-painted variations of herself: man Gillian; tree Gillian; Gillian with bigger-than-mosquito-bite boobs).

In the five hours since Claire had arrived, she’d made $120. Not a terrible turnout if one compared it to last year’s fair, when an angry swarm of Bible-thumpers had tossed her earnings into the funnel cake fryer. Sally Bain—or, as Claire called her, Sally Bane-of-Her-Existence—had rallied her troop of Jesus warriors and thrust crucifixes into Claire’s face, chanting things like, “Begone Satan!” and “This is God’s land!”

Which was kind of funny when you thought about it. If God wanted to claim ownership of Nayawenne—out of every other place in the universe—then he was pretty damn stupid.

Fortunately, Claire had suffered no further Bible-thumping, crucifix-wielding disturbances. Sally Bane-of-Her-Existence had fled town once she’d discovered her husband had fucked the organ player up in the ass. And in the church rectory, no less. (Such irony! Claire’d had absolutely nothing to do with it. Ha.)

It had been a windy afternoon, and Claire’s crystal ball was now coated in a fine layer of dust. Though it was only for decorative purposes—for customer satisfaction!—Claire decided she ought to give it a nice shine, make it look at least halfway capable of revealing visions of tomorrow.

Witch Tip #1: Unbeknownst to Mortals, crystal balls were like kisses from a true love. Which was to say, not powerful in the slightest. The most a kiss could do was give you mouth herpes. And, at its highest power, a crystal ball would fly across a room, break a window and the pinky toe of an irritating significant other. Not that Claire had experience with either situation. Certainly not the mouth herpes.

Claire ripped off a paper towel and went to grab the Windex, only to realize she’d left the Windex at home. Had, by a stroke of poor planning, only brought the herbal tonic she sometimes had to spritz into her eyes when they got a bit cloudy.

Witch Tip #2: Seeing the future had its drawbacks. Your eyes would get all crusty if you did it too much. As if your body was punishing you with goopy morning blindness. Honestly, it was pretty gross.

Well shit, Claire thought. She spat on her hand and rubbed the ball, hoping the couple beside “Whack-A-Democrat” wouldn’t think she was, like, doing something sexual to an inanimate object.

But whatever the couple thought, they were watching her, whispering behind their hands and giving her darting glances. Oh God, Claire thought, Bible-thumper radar blaring. Did Sally Bain send them? Did she organize a sabotage via prayer? Was it possible to raise an army of vengeful Baptists an entire state away? (Claire wouldn’t be surprised. She’d heard of stranger things. Done some of them herself. See also: anally-fucked organ player before he was anally fucked.)  

But no, the couple wasn’t looking at Claire with the fury of God in their eyes—but fascination. The woman, a petite but sturdy thing, was shoving her partner in Claire’s direction. Making a not-so-obvious pointing gesture, like, Her. Her! that he seemed somewhat reluctant to obey. Still, he did, and soon he was striding towards Claire, long legs stomping up clouds of dirt dust, red hair matching the synthetic blood of a “whacked” Bill Clinton.

“Are you…” the man began, looking nervously over his shoulder. The woman pursed her lips, arched her brow like, Do it, you pussy. He shoved his hands in his pockets, defeated. “Are ye done for the day, lass?”

“I was just about to pack up, but I’ve time for another reading if you’re interested.”

“Aye…” he said, completely unconvincing. “Aye, I suppose I’m interested.”

“Well then, take a seat, Mr…?”

“Fraser. Jamie.”

Keep reading

how you met/how you started dating; zoe x reader headcannons

Someone requested a Zoe fic, I did this instead for now because I didn’t know exactly what the fic would be. This gave me some muse for a Zoe/Reader relationship though, so I’m open to making a fic if someone requests. 

also requests are still open as of right now!

OKA Y, I HOPE THESE ARE GOOD.. LETTUCE GO;


-you and Zoe met when you accidentally stumbled into a jazz band rehearsal

-you had been having a really shit day and just needed to be alone for awhile, so you opened the door to what you expected to be an empty room

-but hahaha no just your luck, there were plenty of people in the room, all talking about some music shit you didn’t understand

-you kinda just stood there, mortified and holding back tears because nothing was going your way and you felt like absolute shit

-and Zoe was the first one to speak up

-and she just so kindly is like

‘do you wanna sit down?’

-and you nod silently

-Zoe gets the hint that something’s wrong so she walks over to you and leads you to a chair in the corner of the room

-while you’re walking she asks you if you wanna talk about it

-and you do but you don’t wanna interrupt whatever’s going on so you shake your head no and sit down

-you watch everyone rehearse and you like ca n n o t keep your eyes off of Zoe

-she looks beautiful and like the face she makes when she’s focusing is adorable

- and you start daydreaming because this nice pretty girl didn’t even make fun of you for running into the room on the verge of tears like an idiot

-and at some point she catches you staring and she gives you a little wave and a smile

-and you smile back a little bit

-you two ended up talking about your problems after school 

-it’s the beginning of a great friendship

- you can trust each other with a n y t h i ng

-your parents are being massive dicks?

you rant to her about it

-connor keeps finishing the fucking milk?

she rants about it to you

-you two have sleepovers all the time 

-her parents love you and your parents love her

- you realized you loved her after a few months of being friends

-you were in a really bad headspace so she just cuddled you and played with your hair and told you how much she cared about you

-and you felt s o  s a f e and s o  l o v e d

-you two fell asleep cuddled up on your couch and you woke up before her

-and you didn’t wanna wake her so you just stayed in her arms

-and you realized

fuck. you loved your best friend

- you didn’t say anything for awhile, you just kinda kept it a secret

-but then one night you two are just holding hands and sitting in a little hammock in her backyard

- and it’s silent besides the noise of crickets

-and you decide ‘fuck it’

- it goes a little something like 

- ‘zoe?’

‘hm?’

‘I think i’m in love with you’

-she looks at you and just

a teeny peck on the lips

- ho ly fuc k zoe murphy kissed you h ol y fu ck

-you turn beet red like oh my god you’re blushing like a mad man

- ‘I think I love you too’

‘Oh thank god. I thought you just kissed me to tell me you hated me.’

-her parents think you two are adorable

-connor kinda gives you the side eye but you two eventually end up getting along

-it’s just a really fucking cute relationship

Jeremy Gilbert: Pillow fight got steamy

Word count: 987

Warning: Making out

REQUESTED: I know i said it’ll be out in a few days and it’s almost a week so I’m sorry for the delay, but i hope you enjoy it.

Jeremy Gilbert: Pillow fight got steamy

“Are we alone here?” You asked Jeremy as he led you upstairs.

“Yeah, Elena is spending the night with Damon.” Jeremy told you and you nodded. Once you walked in his bedroom you throw yourself on the bed and sighed happily. Jeremy laughed at you and you smiled.

“It feel nice to not have to deal with the supernatural for a day.” You looked at the ceiling above you.

“It does, feel nice.” Jeremy said and sat on the chair in front of his disk. “What do you want to do?”

“Let’s watch a movie.” You sat on the bed and looked at him for his opinion.

“What do you want to watch?”

“How about… the vow?” You asked him with your best bleeding look.

“Fine, just don’t look at me like that.” Jeremy chuckled.

“YES!” You jumped off the bed gave Jeremy a quick kiss on the lips and ran downstairs. “I’ll get the popcorn and snacks.”

“I’ll get the movie then.”

In a few minutes the Movie, snakes, popcorn and everything else was ready. You both sat on the couch with you snuggling into Jeremy.

“Channing Tatum looks so good.” You unconsciously said what was on your mind, and when you realized what you said you laughed.

“Really now?” Jer looked at you amused with a tint of jealousy. You got an evil idea to annoy Jeremy.

“Yes, did you even see Magic Mike? So HOT!” You told him and he looked even more jealous.

“I think I look better.” Jer told you and you playfully rolled your eyes. “Oh, you think he looks better.”

“Maybe.” You mumbled, and sat straight.

“Oh it’s on.” Just as Jeremey said that you scrambled to your feet screamed while you ran up the stairs.

“Jer, Please stop.” You yelled and quickly ran into Jer’s bedroom, and looked for something to use as a weapon. You found nothing so you took his pillow and held it, just as Jeremy ran into the room.

“A pillow? What will the pillow do?”  Jeremy asked and held a mischievous look in his eyes. “I guess it’s on.”

Jer held a pillow of his own, you screamed as Jeremy took a swing at you. You ducked down just in time.

“Those lessons you’ve been giving me, finally came to use.” You said and hit him in the face with the pillow.

You continued to hit each other while laughing. Jeremy was clearly wining when you pushed him with your hands onto the bed and hit him several times when suddenly he took the pillow from your hand and throw it away, you pouted.

“Come on.” You said before your eyes widen when Jeremy pulled you to the bed so you fell on top of him. But this didn’t last long as he moved so you were under him and you knew what was coming.

“Jer, no. Jeremy please-“ You were cut off by your own laughter as Jeremy started to tickle you. You moved around trying to get out of his hold. “Je-ermyyy, plea-aseee st-oop!”

“Say I’m better-looking than Channing Tatum, and I’ll stop.” Jeremy said in his most serious voice, but you could see his happiness in his eyes.

“N-no.” You shook your head and laughed, your stomach started to hurt and tears rolled down your face.

“Say it.” Jeremy insisted not stopping once even though you were moving around and almost kicked him a few times.

“O-okay, You-u’re b-bette-rr looking th-than Cha-channing T-Tatum.” Jeremy suddenly stopped and you breathed heavily. “Oh god.”

“I hope you learnt your lesson.” Jeremy said waving his finder around as if to scold you.

“Jeremy you are the most handsome man I have ever seen.” You breathed and looked into his chocolate eyes. “And I love you beyond anything or anyone I’ve ever loved.”

Jeremy smiled at your words. “And I love you (y/n), and I’ll protect you from this town’s problems I swear it.”

You suddenly took notice of how close he is to you, and your breath started to get uneven again. You could tell Jer knew what you were thinking but wanted you to make the first move just for the fun of it, you looked from his eyes to his lips a few times when you couldn’t hold back anymore, you leaned up and your lips touched. At first it was slow and full of passion. You ran your hands up his chest and around his neck to his hair, you gripped it lightly and pulled him even close. Jeremy moaned and you smiled into the kiss. You pulled back just enough for you to take a breath before Jeremy leaned in and hos soft lips crashed into yours, this time the kiss went faster and it send shocks through your body, you moaned from the urgency of the kiss.

You titled your head and opened your mouth just enough for Jeremy to slip his tongue in your mouth and you fought for dominance but he won, and explored your mouth.  

Jer moved his hands down your sides and to your butt. You moaned and moved your hand to Jer’s shirt and tugged on it he pulled back and you took off his shirt and throw it away, before connecting your lips again. You pulled back after a while to breathe while Jer moved his head to the side of your neck, he sucked and kissed when you heard a gasp and you pulled away and looked at the door to see both Elena and Damon.

“Okay we’re sorry we’ll go.” Elena rushed and Damon winked to Jeremy and he was hot on Elena’s heels. I burst out laughing.

“That went well.” you commented and looked to Jeremy to see him blushing. “Oh don’t blush it happens.”

“And it had to be with us.” Jeremy said and got off you. “Let’s continue our movie night.”

“Let’s.”