ignite my spark

I want the warmth of your touch
that tells me I’m something sacred
I want that look in your eyes
that says you’re drowning in me


I need a love that ignites me
that sparks my passion 
I need a love that inspires me
that gives me hope even on the darkest of days

I need you by my side when the universe ends
I need you to tell me to be strong
because I can tear down mountains with you
because I can break in front of you 


You make me believe in myself when everything is shattered
You don’t hold me back from my rage or my hope


So yes, I love you
So yes, you bring me back to my center
Just keep on believing in me
That’s all I ask

She’s candy coated sticky sweet
She’s a loaded nine in sticky heat
And she’s a solid ten without a doubt
From her face and everything south
Her caramel skin, bubblegum tongue,
and that heavenly aroma filling up my lungs
Down to ride without thinking twice
So we Bonnie and Clyde, be feeling nice
And every time I ask about our future
She winks and hands me the Kama Sutra
Some freaky shit I didn’t know I was into
She does that to me, gets in my mental
Strong and never looking for a provider
She a young woke feminist freedom fighter
All about the world and promoting peace
And so concerned about things overseas
So she tickles my fancy, ignites a spark
Got me thinking about us as Lois and Clark
But our time together will be short indeed
Because I’ve only ever seen her in my dreams
—  Nav K
Shooting Star

Though many meteors streaked through my murky night sky.
But only one could storm through my atmosphere, earlier flooded with abominations and self loathing, I was enclosed in since my last heartbreak.

She knew very well of the difficult path ahead, yet she burned in the embers the friction of my defiance caused, always pushing her away, maintaining my distance.

One day, a sudden epiphany struck me,
Thoughts exploding in every horizon of my mind.
What I thought of as a meteor destined to ruin my doomed world
To my surprise, turned out to be a shooting star.

For she got incinerated, trying her best to save me while I misunderstood her selflessness as a mere act of sympathy, acting blind to her pious affection.

Oh what a beautiful soul she encompassed
For me, she gave up all the light she carried within,
Her light streaked past me, breaching the atmosphere that once had me confined, where all my nightmares engulfed me in chains.

I stood numb with tears in my eyes.
“She proved you wrong, she is the ultimate one” was all my soul chimed.
So I ran with all my might to catch her as she fell from the sky.
Now heavy sigh escaped her bruised soul, inspite of all the struggle with my ignorance she had a calm, cherubic smile, landing in my arms gave her all the happiness she once desired or dreamt of.

I was worried, drenched in sweat, as her body gave up the heat slowly turning snow cold.
I shouted I screamed, for the almighty to give me another chance, but she, my beautiful shooting star, looked at me with a wide smile, her eyes glimmering with the  tears escaping in love, she had for me, slowly she drifted her cold fingers across my lips, “Let me go” she said in her weak shrill voice, for she knew her purpose was fulfilled, her light had finally ignited my soul sparking hope and belief all over my barren soul caracassed before, due to past mistakes.

 _____ Yo, so I could write this up as a milestone thing, but I have decided that I’d like to keep numbers off of my blog for multiple reasons. That being said though, I wanted to write a little thing for you guys to bring to light how awesome I feel being back to tumblr.
I had actually spent around half a year away from this site due to personal reasons, &. wasn’t really sure if I wanted to return for a lot of that … but picking up Grimoire Weiss as a muse had re-ignited my spark to write. Now I know this blog isn’t anything amazing just yet, I am still getting used to this books mannerisms &. vocal nuances but I am enjoying it none-the-less.
So in true fashion of these kind of things, I will just tag a few people that come to mind straight away and in no particular order


@inartibus // @devilglow // @sapicurio // @flowering-magi // @arevmdawo // @apeirxnus // @rabbitchase // @trashkingizunia // @tiiamate // @yorhanovemixs // @umbraticum // @ofchaldea // @piictograph // @stckhlmr // @shxujobrave // @spearofthemother // @solisaeternum // @duciit // @fiercysoul // @fragilefated // @filiislucis // @ghostpillow // @glissxndo // @hippestbarista // @kiiruna // @lachalaine // @lyccris // @caiiius // @box-of-characters // @minugahanax // @mxssias // @miraclereaper // +blogroll


Please do not feel bad if you are not listed, I merely mentioned those that I am a little bit more familiar with (ic or ooc) &. I look forward to rping with all of you over the course of this blogs growth.
                         Thank you.
                                  DES.

Part two

I had no words,
I couldn’t fathom what I was feeling.
We both had a mutual understanding of what’s going on.
I was cold, down to the bone. And even though every part of me wanted him to pull me close, I stayed still.
He was quiet, while I was still trying to catch my breath.
I haven’t heard him in a while, yet I can still hear his voice ringing in my ears.
He feels broken. Broken because of his own problems? Broken because of how he feels? Broken because he can’t hold on any longer? Broken because of me? My heart was numb, but feelings still shot through me, stinging and burning. I can’t bare to think I’d how he felt. I caught his eyes, they were light and tired. I swear that is eyes could hold galaxies, I could spend my life in those eyes. A tear slipped out of his eye, and I couldn’t help but cringing. I turned away from him, not being to stand the sight. He grabbed my arm, pulling me to him and igniting sparks on my skin. I faced him, his face was full of sadness, full of regret. A tear left my eye, seeing them streaming from his.l He pulled my face to his, and kissed me. With tears still streaming, i tried to convey everything that I felt. I pulled back, and said the only words that filled my mind. And his reply came right back.
“I’ll always love you”

—  A.P
We Are Planeswalkers

We are Magic players — Planeswalkers.

In the flavor of Magic Origins, what’s our origin story? What would our Homeplane be and where would we first Planeswalk to? It’s easy to just choose two planes that we like and then say one’s the homeplane while the other’s the first planeswalk; but what if we do it this way:

Our Homeplane would be the block where we first played Magic. It can be the first limited deck you made or the deck a friend lent you or the first deck you tried in duels of the planewalkers, and so on and so forth… Whatever the case, it should be your introduction to Magic.

The plane that you first Planeswalk to would be the next block or deck that you played, the first pre-release that you’ve joined, or the first box, fat pack, or booster pack that you got. It’s the point where you’re not only just “trying the game out” but it’s where you can say that you have become a legit Magic player, a legit Planeswalker.

So it begins…



Homeplane: Lorwyn/Shadowmoor.

A couple of years back [about 2009ish] my friend introduced me and a couple of our friends to Magic. We played at his house and he lent us some of his decks so that we could play. Being a Lord of the Rings geek, i saw his Elf Deck and the rest is multiverse history. They say you always come back to the first deck and color that you played.

That would be me, a Green mana aligned Elf Shaman Planeswalker  — although i really don’t like the horns and hooves thing — from Lorwyn, of which my spark ignited during the Great Aurora, when Shadowmoor is engulfing the entire plane.

I first planeswalked —  which i think meant the moment i loved the game  — to Mirrodin.

I dabbled heavily with artifacts and Infect decks. I loved Norn’s Annex, Spinebiter, and those Myrs that you don’t see coming until your 10 poison counters deep in trouble.

Mirrodin is transforming into New Phyrexia. It all looked familiar, as i remember my Lorwyn being eaten by Shadowmoor. I think even as i was planeswalking, Shadowmoor managed to took a hold of me somehow; but not completely… I am both of Lorwyn and Shadowmoor, both dark and light shades of green.

I left Mirrodin sometime and traveled to other planes. I never acquired a Blightsteel Colossus but i vowed to planeswalk back there and get me one.

And that’s my origin story.



After that i skipped Innistrad or maybe planeswalked there but never stayed for long. I loved Ravnica, staying mostly in the Selesnya conclave. I checked out the Izzet guys and would probably loved the Simic places; but it has become more merfolk than elf.

I went Theros after. it has it’s charms but there were no elves and those satyrs creep me out. I especially loved hanging out in Tarkir. Everyday was an adventure with the Atarka Clan in the Qal Sisma ranges.  I have a weird feeling i remember them differently, hmmm…

I like to travel a lot, and i can say i’ve went to a great number of planes to many to say here but hey, the more the merrier right?



So what about you guys? it would be great if you could also share your very own origin story… let’s do this guys, it really fun! Spread the word across the multiverse.

What’s your Origin Story?

The Drug I Was Missing (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Request: Hey! Could you do a Draco x Reader with 20 and 17 from your prompt list?

Prompt (s): #20 “How would feel if you got your heart out of your chest with just four words?” #17 “Babe plea-” “You’ve done enough damage.”

RATING: R. Please read at your own risk.

Request Here

Warnings: Heavy Cursing. Rough and Graphic Smut. Angry Draco. Consumption of alcohol and mention of Alcoholism. Drugs.

I don’t support people turning to drugs and alcohol to help with problems, although at the moment it seems hypocritical  (you’d know if you were talking to me) and if that happens or has happened to you, please come to me or reach out for professional help.

I couldn’t believe it. Draco and Astoria. Draco and I have been together 8 months and I was told he was cheating on me, by my best friends. Pansy was holding me as I sobbed my heart out, as for Blaise, he was hunting for Draco. Blaise and Pansy who had been together for little over a year, had gotten Draco and I together. We all went on a double date. It was amazing and started one of the strongest and most amazing relationships Hogwarts has ever seen, but even the strongest things break.

But here I am sobbing, because those four words ripped my heart out. “Draco’s cheating on you.” Repeated in my mind over and over again. Speak of the devil, Draco had just walked in through the common room portrait before his eyes landed on me. He rushes over to me and tried hugging me.

“Babe ple-” “You’ve done enough damage.” I snapped at him “What are you talking about?” He asked confused.

“Don’t act like you don’t know. How would you feel if you got your heart ripped right out of your chest with just four words Draco?! Huh?! You’re fucking cheating on me! With a skank who’s a year younger than us. I thought you fucking loved me! You made me belive that you loved me for eight months, EIGHT FUCKING MONTHS DRACO.” I screamed at him, pouring my heart out. I was tired, exhausted from crying and beyond livid.

Draco grabbed my wrist and I tried tugging it out of his vice-like grip but there was no use. He dragged all the way to my dorm so we could talk in peace, or as peaceful as we could get. “I am not fucking cheating on you, Y/N. She kissed me to make her ex jealous. He was walking by and she did it with out warning. I tried pushing her off but Blaise and Pansy came at the wrong time and I know looked bad but you have to belive me!!” He pleaded. I sighed. “I don’t know if I can. But now, we’re on a break until further notice, give me time to think this over.”

He walked out of my room with tears streaming down his face and it took every ounce of energy in me, not to hold him close. I fell to the floor with my back against the door, letting my head the door with a soft ‘thud’. I just kept in crying. I was so in love and invested in Draco, all for it to fall apart.

*three weeks later.*

It’s been three weeks since the notorious break up. Everyone around Hogwarts knew about it, including the teachers. As for Draco and I, well we were either drinking or smoking away our feelings. I sat in my room with a half empty bottle of muggle booze, Vodka, I think and a joint between my lips. Marijuana had a funny taste but fuck, did it ever make you feel good. Pansy and Blaise were genuinely concerned Draco and myself. We were in the same fucked up state of mind.

A thick and heavy cloud of smoke surrounded me. The stench of alcohol and weed rang through my room like perfume. My thoughts were clouded and inane. I hadn’t been able to cry, it’s like my tears ran dry. I missed Draco. I missed the way his touch would ignite sparks throughout my body or the ways his voice would send shivers down my spine. I mainly missed the way he made me happy and the way he held me close and told me how special I was.

I loved Draco more than anything. I still do but I can’t bring myself to go back to him. I was sitting on my bedroom floor still, I’ve been sitting here for 45 minutes, a mixed cd if The Red Hot Chili Peppers, The Killers, Nirvana, Sum 41 and The Offspring that my sisters muggle born friend made for playing from some muggle contraption quietly in the background. I sighed looking through the scrapbook Draco gave me on our four month anniversary.

Draco’s P.O.V

I was hurt and angry. I missed Y/N. I smashed the insane amount of bottles that once and still contained various types of alcohol against the wall. I was in the middle of drunken rage. With a flick of my wand, everything was cleaned up. I walked to her dorm and burst in.

I noticed that the smell of alcohol and some muggle drug hung low in the air. She looked at with bloodshot eyes and flushed cheeks. “What do you want Draco?” She asked flatly. “You back. Us back. I miss us.” I said sadly. “What if you hurt me again. What if this all some elaborate plan to get me to trust me again and just break my heart all over again, and you really don’t love me.” That pushed me over the edge. “Y/N L/N, I fucking love you WITH ALL MY HEART!! I’M TIRED OF DRINKING THE DAYS AWAY. I JUST WANNA WASTE THE DAY AWAY WITH YOU. I don’t wanna watch you drink and smoke the rest of you life away. I don’t want you hurting yourself.” I snapped. “That sounds like a Draco problem.” She said sarcastically.

“Now can you go so I can clean up and nap.” She asked irritated. I waved my wand and the mess and smell were gone. I also summoned a sobering up potion from my room. “I want you to be sober for what I’m about to do.” Despite the anger I was feeling, I still wanted her to be okay. After letting my feelings out, I felt sober.

She hesitantly but gratefully took the potion and downed it. She began to look healthier in a mere second. After she tossed the empty bottle aside she cocked an eyebrow as if she was asking what do you want. I hadn’t realized we were so close until I felt her hot breath fan over my lips.

I closed the tiny space and locked our lips. Merlin, I missed this. I was still angry with her. She bit my bottom lip slightly, knowing it drove me mad.

Y/N’s P.O.V

I tugged on his lip as my hands roamed his body. He pressed hot and sloppy open mouthed kisses all over my neck. Sucking on my weak spot. I moaned as he left marks. My hands found their way to his growing erection. “See what effect you have on me love?” He growled into my ear. I felt him nibble on the sensitive skin.

“Jump.” He instructed against our locked lips.. I felt his hard member against my lower region as he carried ne to my bed. He threw me down and and ripped off my skirt and rubbed my clit roughly through my thin, lace panties. I was dampening quickly from his touch quickly. He moved the garment over and very harshly thrust a finger in. “So wet for me. So beautiful too.” He said against my neck. I was positive there was purple marks all over the skin. With his skilled fingers and the pleasure of his kisses, I was ready to cum.

I felt a breeze ove my body and then it dawned on me, he used silent and wandless magic to rid me of the rest of my uniform. Without any prep or any warning he slammed into me. As pulled out slowly and quickly and harshly thrust back in, by nkw I was full on screaming his name. My eyes rolled back into my head. With one had clutching the sheet and the other digging into his flesh, leaving deep scratches that would be there for days, you wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at me that I was still angry.

His grip on my hips got tighter and I was sure there’d be bruises. When I felt his still fully erect cock twitch against the walls of my heat, I knew he was close. He kept thrusting roughly, possibly even more rough than before until he was about to cum. With the knowledge in my head, I flipped us over with strength I never knew I had. I started bouncing up down as quickly as I could. With his hands on my hips holding me tightly and making sure I hit my g-spot everytime I came down, I came fast and loudly. I screamed his name as I rode out our highs and layed against his sweaty chest. I felt lightheaded. The sex was so rough and pleasurable that it took me to higher places than Marijuana could. He made me feel better than ecstasy. He was my drug. The drug I was missing.

“I still love you Draco, I sure as hell hope you realize that, I’m just scared that I’ll get hurt again.” I mumbled against his cheek. “Oh, Y/N, I won’t hurt you. I promise. We can take it one step at a time. Please just give me another chance.” He said with uttermost sincerity.

“Fine,” I said proudly. “Since that sex was so convincing. We really should have angry sex more often.” He just chuckled. I yawned and he said “Go to sleep baby, I’ll be here when you wake up.” And with that I fell asleep on my lovely boyfriend’s chest to a steady heartbeat.

We're Just The Teenage Waste // Michael Clifford One Shot

word count: 3035 warnings: smut, swearing, kitten! kink, dom michael synopsis: you meet the mysterious Michael Clifford at a club one night, and something about him leaves you wanting more.  IMAGINES // PREFERENCES // REQUEST 

Half-naked people crowded the dance floor, grinding and moving along to the beat, the fluorescent paint covering their bodies glowed brightly amongst the strobe lights and dark walls of the club. The atmosphere was heavy, the air thick and hot with sweat. The bass was shaking the walls with each song. It was loud, so loud that I couldn’t hear myself think. Even the confines of the washroom couldn’t block out the blaring music.

I propped myself up on the sink, fiddling with the lighter in my hands. I wasn’t in a mood to party; I just needed to get away from everything for a while. The club was too crowded for my tastes anyway. I’d much rather prefer sitting around a fire with some friends while some random indie band plays in the background but no, we had to go to a rave. “It’ll be fun!” They said. Bullshit. Normally, I’d be all up for getting wasted and going home with some guy but I just wasn’t feeling it tonight.

 All I wanted to do was run outside of the venue and light up a cig but my cigarettes were taken away from me in an attempt to ‘stop feeding my addiction’. I suppose it’s for my own good, I’ve been trying to quit. I was never a heavy smoker, more of a social smoker or a stress smoker but lately the number of cigarettes smoked a day has drastically increased. Too much stress in my life that I can’t cope with. I know smoking is one of the worst things a person could do for their health, but honestly, I’m going to end up in a casket one day so why does it matter. I was born to die, so why not enjoy my days on earth.

I shoved the tiny lighter back into my pocket and hop off the sink. I take one last look around the beaten up, gratified washroom before re-entering the world of the wasted youth. The scent of alcohol and sweat hung low in the air, leading me towards the bar. I down whatever drink was put in front of me in a matter of seconds, the alcohol exciting every nerve in my body, making me feel alive for the first time in a while.

I scout the crowd for a suitable hookup, my eyes settling on a fluorescent giraffe. It wasn’t a real giraffe obviously, but a freakishly tall dude with neon green hair so in my eyes, it was a fluorescent giraffe. He was wearing black skinny jeans that clung to his legs like plastic wrap and a cut up Metallica shirt, a worn out leather jacket completing the look. There was something about him that ignited sparks throughout my body and from that point on, my goal was to befriend the giraffe.

As quickly as I found him, he disappears into the crowd. You’d think he’d be easy to spot but with everyone glowing and moving around it’s nearly impossible. In no mood to search for the mystery man, I trek outside into the cool autumn air. Instinctively my hand dives into my pockets for my pack of Marlboro, completely forgetting about my being banned from smoking. “Fuck.” I mutter, stomping at the ground like a two year old who isn’t allowed to have dessert. I slouch down against the wall of the club, fiddling with my lighter once again.

I focus my attention on the tiny flame flickering out of the lighter. It shoots up, dancing around with the wind before it slinks back into the container. Today was just great, I lost giraffe boy, I can’t smoke and my friend is probably hammered as fuck somewhere.

“Your lighter looks a bit lonely.” A pack of cigs is thrusted into my line of sight. My eyes trail up the strangers arm, meeting a bright pair of green eyes to match the mop on his head—giraffe boy.

“I really shouldn’t. I’m not supposed to be smoking.”

“What’s one more going to do? Come on.” He urges, waving the pack around, taunting me.

“Fuck it.” I mumble, pulling a cigarette out of the pack and immediately lighting it, bringing the rolled up death trap to my lips, I take a long drag. The smoke leaves my lips in whirls, flying off with the breeze.

“You from around here?” He situates himself beside me, lighting one of his own.

“Relatively. You?”

“Nah. Just visiting for a while. What’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone?”

“If you want to leave here with your dick still attached to your body I highly suggest you don’t hit on me as if you are a piece of shit.”

“My bad. Let’s take it old school. Hello, fair maiden. I am Michael Clifford. I play guitar in my band. How are you doing this fine evening?”

“Okay, keep in mind that it’s the 21st century,” I chuckle. “Try again.”

“I’m Michael and I couldn’t give a fuck about what people think of me. Better?”

“Much. I’m Y/N and it seems that we’re on the same page.” I take another drag of my cigarette, blowing the smoke against his face. “So, giraffe boy.” He raises an eyebrow at my nickname but doesn’t say anything. “What’s your story?”

“My story?”

“Yeah, you know, like your life story." 

"Why do you want to know my story?”

“You intrigue me, Clifford. You’re hard to read and mysterious. I want to know more about you. Tell me.”

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

“Cats have nine lives. I can spare one.” I lean back against the rough brick wall, waiting for him to continue.

“Well, there isn’t much to tell.”

“Please share the limited amount of information you have.”

“You don’t give up, do you?”

“What can I say? Kittens are persistent,” I wink at him, earning a chuckle from his light pink lips. “Now please, do share.”

“My name is Michael, I’m 19 years old and I’m from Sydney, Australia. I dropped out of school to join a band and three years later, here I am. What about you, princess?”

“You were right; your story is pretty boring. Ah, my story’s a bit of a long one.”

“I have time.”

“I grew up in a conservative household. My parents were so uptight that it felt as if I were being strangled. I hated it. My love for ‘satanic music’ and tattoos didn’t swing by my parents too well. They were determined that I would grow up to be a lawyer like my sister and I couldn’t do that if I was covered in tattoos and had mediocre grades. So, in order to piss off my parents, I made a fake ID and got a tattoo on my sixteenth birthday. My parents were fuming. I honestly thought they would kick me out of the house, but sadly, they decided to keep me.”

“Sadly? You wanted to leave?”

“I couldn’t stand living in that house, I needed to get out. For fucks sake I would’ve thanked them if they kicked me out.”

“Was it that bad?”

“I may have exaggerated a bit. They were good people for the most part. We had a big house, money, it was a decent life but they were cold towards me. I was always compared to my sister; I was hidden in her shadow for many years. It was always about how she could do it better or how she’s already done it better! I was never praised for anything, any effort I made would be diminished and I would be told I needed to improve. I felt useless, a waste of space, like I didn’t belong. It’s shocking that after 18 years in that house, I actually still have some confidence left. Although many times it is induced by alcohol or other unholy substances.”

“Unholy substances?” He looks at me questioningly and I simply grin.

“Nothing major, don’t worry, I’m not a crack head.” He gives me a look, telling me to continue.

“So I was 16 and at the point I really wanted to die. My grades went from mediocre to below average; I didn’t even attend classes most days. I’d usually end up in some park some where smoking a pack. School wasn’t important to me. I didn’t learn anything, even when I got good grades, I never learned. So what was the point? No one cared if you actually learned; it was simply about getting good grades. Let’s face it; I was fed up with just about everything. The minute I turned 18, I packed my bags, left a note and flew to New York. That brings us to today. I am now 19, I am studying to be a tattoo artist and I make my money by selling my artwork or busking. I have a decent condo near Times Square. Nothing too special but it’s livable. I have friends and I do make decent money. I’m happier now than I ever have been and that’s more important than making a gazillion dollars.”

I looked up to meet his gaze, he was staring directly at me and I could feel a blush rise to my cheeks. “I told you it was a long story.” I mutter, breaking eye contact to stare at the floor.

“I enjoyed listening to you speak. Honestly, I’d rather be out here with you than shagging some piss drunk whore in the back of my car.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should. My goal was to get hammered and hook up with someone tonight, but I’m glad I met you. It’s nice to be able to talk to a girl without her throwing herself at me.”

“Woohoo do we got a ladies’ man up in here!” I taunt.

“Not gonna lie I get my fair share.”

“Let’s not sound like a douche now, eh.”

“You wanna get a drink? My treat.” He offers, dusting himself off as he stands up.

“Why not.”

****

My back collides with the door, his hands remain securely around my waist, propping me up against the wall.  He burrows his face in my neck, biting and sucking on the skin covering my collarbone, leaving marks that would surely last for days. My eyes dance around his apartment, taking in everything from the band posters and the video game cases scattered along the floor. “Nice place you got here.” I chuckle and he lifts his head to meet my gaze momentarily before pressing his lips to mine.

“Would you like a tour? I’d be more than happy to show you the bedroom.” He pants against my now swollen lips.

“Lead the way.” He grabs my hand and practically drags me to his room. He pushes me down onto the bed, crawling on top of me, using his hands to prop himself up. “Do you wanna be my little pet for the night, kitten? I’d love to see you in a collar with little kitten ears. Do you want to be my kitten?” I nod my head eagerly; desperate to see one of my sexual fantasies unfolding in real life.

He removes his body from me, immediately making me yearn for the heat his body emitted. He tosses me a tiny box, smirking the entire time. “I’m going to be right back. I want to see you dressed up when I return.” He exits the room and I huff, lifting the lid to reveal cat ears, a tail, and a black sharpie. 

I waste no time in ridding myself of my clothes, leaving my black lace bra and matching thong on. I tousle my curls, shaking my hair about before placing the cat ears on my head, the tail soon following. I draw little whiskers and a black circle on my nose, completing the costume. 

I lay back down onto the bed, awaiting Michaels return. “Look at you kitten, all dressed up for me.” His eyes light up at the sight of me sprawled out on his bed. “Such a pretty kitty.” He states, stroking my hair gently as he sits beside me.

“What should I do with you, kitten?” He says, speaking more to himself than to me. “Do you want me to touch you here?” He questions, palming my breasts lightly. “Or here?” He trails his hand along my stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. “Or here?” He smirks, cupping my core, barely touching me. 

“You’re soaked.” He runs his thumb up and down my panty clad pussy, sending shivers throughout my body.

“Do you want me to touch you there, kitten?” I simply nod my head, worried that if I opened my mouth only squeaks would come out.

“Use your words.” He says, his eyes never leaving my face as he softly strokes me.

“P-please, Michael?”

“Wrong.” He states, delivering a sharp smack to my clit causing me to yelp.

I stare at him momentarily, hoping he would hint to what he wants, but his eyes show nothing. His features remain firm and focused under my gaze. He leans over my body, his hair tickling the tops of my breasts. “I want to hear my little kitten beg. Beg for it.”

“Please touch me, Michael. I need you so badly; I’m throbbing and dripping for you, please. I’ve been a good girl.” I almost cringe as the words leave my lips. The desperation in my voice was evident and frankly, I was rather annoyed. I’m not a big fan of being submissive; it’s actually rather shocking that I’m playing along with his little game.

“You have been a good girl, kitten. What do you say, should I take off this flimsy little thing?” He gestures to my thong, fiddling with the elastic as we speak.

“Please.” I breathe out, allowing him to practically tear off my panties, tossing them across the room with my bra soon following.

The cool air against my dripping center makes me shiver; I can feel myself leaking onto the bed sheets as my arousal grows. He eyes me hungrily, licking his lip as he examines my now naked body. 

“Such a pretty pussy for such a pretty girl.” He spreads my folds with his fingers, my wetness coating his fingers. “Fuck, you smell amazing.” He sighs, removing his fingers from me before lowering himself to the floor.

“Can I taste you, kitten?”

“Please do, Michael.” I whimper, desperate for the slightest of contact.

He brings his mouth to my center, immediately latching onto my clit, sucking and licking at the nub rapidly. “Oh, fuck, Michael.” I moan, tangling my fingers in his already tousled hair. His tongue explores every inch of me, making me feel things i can’t even describe. He circles my opening with his tongue, merely kitten licking the hole every now and then. I thrust up to meet his tongue, my mind no longer in control of my body. He simply holds me down by my hips, lowering me back down onto the bed. He smirks up at me. “Patience.” I groan, sick with his teasing.

As if he senses my irritation, he delves his tongue into me, wiggling it around inside of me. His thumb comes to circle my clit lazily and I moan. I know he can feel my walls clenching around his tongue, but he doesn’t stop, he simply continues at the same pace he started at. He circles my clit faster leading me to my first orgasm of the night. “Fuck!” I scream out, my back threatening to arch off of the bed forcing him to tighten his grip on my hips.

“Mmmh, you taste great, kitten.” He groans against me. He proceeds to lick and slurp at my juices until I’m clean. 

He lifts himself from me, his chin glistening with my juices. “You wanna taste? Come here.” He motions to me and I crawl into his lap. He connects our mouths together, his tongue forcefully entering my mouth, giving me a taste.

“Normally, I’d make you suck my cock but I just want to be in you, so why don’t we save it for another time? Will you suck my cock for me another time, kitten?”

“I want it now, Michael. I want your cock in my mouth, I want to taste you!” I groan, palming at the bulge in his jeans, no longer caring about how desperate I sounded.

“If you be a good girl, I’ll give it to you tomorrow. Now, I just want to fuck you.”

“Ugh fine.” He smirks and begins undressing himself.

“You wanted my cock that badly? Are you my little cock slut?” He questions, pulling his boxers down his legs.

“Mmm, I still want it, Michael,” I let out a groan at the sight of his hard on, my clit throbbing once again.

“You are a cock slut, aren’t you, kitten?”

“Michael, please, either cut with the chit chat and fuck me or allow me to suck you off.”

“Whatever you say.” He lines himself up with entrance and slides into me with ease. He stays still for a few moments, looking into my eyes. “You feel so nice around me, kitten.” He groans.

“Just move, please move!” I beg.

He willingly obliges and sets a steady pace of thrusting into me. I tilt my head back in pleasure, moans and groans roll off of my tongue as he relentlessly pounds into me. “Fuck, Y/N. You’re so warm and tight. It feels so good!”

I rake my nails down his back, leaving long red scratches that are sure to stand out against the paleness of his skin.

Moans and profanities fill the the room and it doesn’t take me long to reach my orgasm. I feel myself clench around him as I come.

He soon pulls out of me, pumping himself furiously until he comes in three spurts, his cum coating my breasts and face. “Fuck.” He groans, collapsing beside me.

“I’d love to take you out on a date.” He mutters, wrapping his arms around me.

“Aren’t you supposed to do that before you have sex?” I tease.

“Shut up.”

“Well, I’d love to go on a date with you.”

Unexpected (1/3):

(Tayvin baby series)

Okay… So I got a lot of asks suggesting writing about Tayvin babies and the enthusiasm was too much to NOT write about it. Some people wanted different stages so I’m splitting this into a series of 3 parts. I actually found this hard enough to write. That’s why I haven’t posted anything in a while and why some parts might seem forced. I really tried to work on the dialogue in this because I’m not that great with dialogue and description together but I’m happy with how it turned out.
Also, any ideas, just send me an ask. Enjoy!

———————-

“Adam Wiles,” I called loudly, emerging from the upstairs bathroom in worn shorts and an oversized shirt.

I stood at the top of the staircase, my hip lightly bumping against the bannister and one hand wrapped around the polished wood. A large smile spread across my face, an uncontrollable motion at that moment.

“Babe, I’m making dinner. If this isn’t important…” he moaned in complaint, swinging open the kitchen door and stepping into the hallway. He came to a stop at the last step of the stairs, arms crossed and an impatient frown twisting his lips.

I took my time to lean my elbows against the smooth, wooden railing that ran along the stairs and gripped my chin with curled fingers. “What are you doing in January?”

I smirked secretively to myself at his painfully confused look, now, from my cryptic language. “One second, let me just ask The Queen, I’m sure she’ll know my schedule like, 9 months fr-” the sarcastic words died on his tongue, fading into the tiniest of echoes bounding off the walls.

His face changed from impatient to disbelieving as he realised what I was insinuating. “Are you-” he pointed to me while ascending the stairs in a daze. I nodded frantically, my smile quickly growing ecstatic.

“I- oh my-” he stuttered in shock, unable to comprehend the idea. I was still in shock myself.

“You know, forming a sentence might help me figure out whether you are coming up here to hug me or to pack your bags.” I teased with a small smile.

His face deadpanned, unimpressed - a stark contrast from the once shocked expression - at my sarcastic words. “Don’t make me change my mind,” he muttered equally as sarcastic, making me roll my eyes just as we met in the middle of the stairs. “I can’t believe it! You’re pregnant?” his face resumed its disbelieving expression, a hint of a smile tracing his lips, and I nodded once again.

His hands instantly flew to my stomach, wiggling their way under his shirt that I stole years ago, resting carefully against the soon-to-be rounded flesh. A questioning look took over his features after a second.

“But, didn’t the doctor say it wasn’t possible?” his eyebrows furrowed. I had been told by the doctor a few months ago that the chances of me getting pregnant we’re slim. Next to impossible.

We had sat in that office room on stoic white plastic chairs for ages, my shoulders slumped and shaking with sobs, tears rolling down my cheeks and onto Adam’s
shirt as he soothed and comforted me with calming words. Only, I remembered the waver in his deep and usually smooth voice at points. The almost unnoticeable cracks in his hard defensive exterior he had built for both of us. I wasn’t the only one who had basically lost the chance to become a parent.

“Well, it wasn’t impossible. Just very unlikely.” I shrugged, almost as if it wasn’t a big deal. We both knew that wasn’t true.

The smiles were quickly back on our faces. Two grinning idiots; me staring at Adam’s face, just watching his amazed reaction, him staring at my half-covered tummy with his head dipped slightly, shoulders hunched, to stare where his hands rested against the flat skin.

“We’re gonna be parents,” he mumbled, the way he stressed and twisted pronunciations of words with his accent mesmerised me while he moved his piercing forest green eyes to my tear filled blue ones with admiration. I tilted my head back more to look at his face, now he had straightened up. Even when I was standing a step above him, his height easily outdid mine.

I nodded in confirmation, my short, wavy hair bounced around my face and my palms came to press against his hands through the gathered and creased material of the grey shirt.

Adam took another small moment to glance at my belly before catching my loving gaze. He let his lips grow wide and smiled. It was sincere and genuine and… honest. It had me believing we had the ability to move mountains, change grey skies, control fate, cure illnesses. But it had me knowing I wouldn’t do any of those things, if it meant giving up my life as it was now.

It was almost selfish, but I didn’t feel guilty in the least. Years ago, before we met, I had said I was happy. I was the closest to happiness I’d ever been. And I was. This though, I knew, was genuine, untarnished, complete and utter happiness. This was what it felt like to have your life be complete.

I couldn’t help it. It was as if my brain was automatic in its response to our stare down, and I pressed my palms against the rough, stubbled skin of Adam’s cheeks and stood on my toes to reach his lips with mine. Two forces collided. Two universes collided. Intensity filled every crack and crevice in the passion-filled kiss.

And I thanked every god in the sky for sending this perfect creature of a man to me. I loved every tiny habit and detail, from the way he blinked rapidly, really squeezing his eyelids together in a brief but forceful motion, as he gave himself a pep talk when he was nervous before a gig, to the way the intricate black ink of his tattoos stood out starkly over his lithe, tanned arms and got stretched and twisted as his muscles moved.

This man was no human. He had made the mistakes of humans, he had had successes of humans, he had the manner of a human but his smile was otherworldly. His laughter, transcendent. His imagination, uniquely creative and completely boundless.

He was the work of a perfectionist, crafted by skilled hands that had endured and learned from flaws, mistakes and experience to finally create a masterpiece.

He was not perfect. Not to everyone. But to me, he was perfect enough. He was a completion to my already fulfilling life.

Our lips moved to a harmonious, silent tune, keeping us in time with the erratic pounding of our healed but scarred hearts, the raspy breaths that were taken in split seconds before being smothered by addicted swollen lips, crashing together like waves chipping at tall, sturdy cliffs. We were hooked on the feeling of our tongues battling like glinting swords, high on the pressure our smooth lips put on one another just to be that millimetre closer.

Eventually, the gasps for air lengthened to heaving chests pressing against the other with every desperate inhale and the passionate, firm kisses slowed to light prolonged pecks.

My senses sharpened gradually once my breaths had returned to a normal rate, and I felt the small pressure of Adam’s fingers igniting tingling sparks along my slightly exposed waist travel along the curve of my hips and up to my stomach again.

I don’t know how long we stood there on the stairwell, shifting gazes between my stomach and each other, letting out disbelieving breathy laughs and squeals of excitement, but when we did, it was because of the smell of burning, and the wispy, miniature sheets of smoke peeking through the crack under the kitchen door.

We glanced at each other in anxiousness, both trying to be serious but laughing giddily anyway, as we sprinted down the stairs to the kitchen. Just as we stumbled through the door and recovered mildly from an onslaught of coughs the thick blanket of smoke we inhaled was responsible for, a smoke alarm suddenly beeped wildly in a screeching rhythm that reverberated around our ears painfully.

I pressed my palms tightly against my aching ears and ran from window to window, flinging them open carelessly while Adam opened the doors and tended to the smoking pot, little flickering flames dancing under the boiling hot lid.

Adam dropped the pot of an unrecognisably burnt dish in the sink under a cold stream of water and turned around with an exaggeratedly relieved face, slumping against the counter dramatically behind him. I couldn’t help but let laughter bubble up through my lips. I laughed until my stomach hurt and I was keeled over, wheezing inbetween uncontrolled giggles, one hand placed on the counter beside me to keep my balance as I tried not to tumble onto the ground. I laughed until I gradually heard Adam joining in, starting with small bursts of chuckles before forming into loud booming laughter that mixed with mine in the smoky room.

* * * *

Later that night - when our stomachs were full of takeaway pizza and the TV was playing Law & Order reruns in the background - Adam and I curled up on the couch, his long legs stretching out either side of mine, dwarfing them, as his strong arms encircled my waist in a comforting embrace, tingling my skin in their wake and my head tilted back onto his shoulder. We were murmuring lowly back and forth between small presses of lips to the top of my head, keeping a slow, broken conversation. That was when the subject of godparents came up.

“So, I was thinking, on the subject of godparents-” I started.

“Taylor, we were literally just talking about how big your stomach would get.” Adam laughed at my unsuccessfully subtle change in subject but I hushed his laughter quickly and he settled with a wide, amused smile.

“Technicalities,” I muttered. “So, I was thinking, what if the godfather is one of your friends, and the godmother is one of mine. But, we’d have to agree.” I explained.

“Sounds good.” Adam agreed, slowly trailing off into thought. I did too. This was going to be hard.

“Matthew.” he muttered after a few moments, mulling over his choices. “Matt should be the godfather.”

“Like, Burns?” I question, unsure of the formalities of his real name after the habit of saying ‘Burns’ rubbed off on me as his nickname.

Adam hummed in confirmation and I nodded. “I mean, I wouldn’t trust him not to teach our baby how to chat up a girl before he’s 2, or to not drop him, but he’s a loyal son of a bitch and he has never made me doubt him throughout our years of friendship in such a corrupting business. Whadya think?” Adam added, his deep voice rumbling all through his chest and vibrating under my head, never failing to relax me and settle my worries and racing thoughts.

I loved it when he spoke. It wasn’t how he said things. It was what he said. He made every word count. He wasn’t just a person of pointless passing remarks. When he spoke, it meant something.

Everytime he spoke, he made me laugh, smile, blush or really think about something. He had that effect on a lot of people. To throw them off guard by catching a weakness or to point out something that made them question their thoughts and motives. There was never a dull moment with him. I think that’s what kept us interested all these years. We always had something meaningful to say, and it was never one-sided.

I nodded again, slipping back into my original thought process. “Yeah. I even trust him.” I agreed, looking up at Adam to find his gaze transfixed on me. I smiled in content, returning his own lazy expression before twisting and manoeuvring myself around onto my side and resting the side of my face against his chest, fitting into his embrace like two matching puzzle pieces. His lips touched the top of my head again and his arms pulled me tighter against him.

“I think Karlie for the godmother.” I said abruptly after a while. “I mean, I’m close with every one of my friends but I’m closest with her even though I’ve only known her a few years. And she would be the most bullish and honest godmother any child could wish for. She’d be a really good example too. She’s one of the strongest women I know and she’s always calm and happy. She’s so optimistic about everything. Yeah. Definitely Karlie.” I tipped my head up and waited for Adam’s approval. He nodded silently and smiled, satisfied with my choice.

I finally closed my eyes, at peace with my thoughts and decisions. I mulled over what my life might be like if I hadn’t made some regretful decisions in my life years ago.

I had regretted things but I wouldn’t take them back. Not for what I had now. Not for the world. My world. And every unexpected thing that cropped up every once in a while. Like, an effective breakthrough treatment for my mum when she had been told she didn’t have long left, a marriage of more than one close friend that made me emotional to the point of reapplying my makeup more than once in a day, a man that wrapped me up in his arms when it wasn’t even cold, just because he wanted to hold me, two rings sitting, almost unassuming now, on my left hand at the knuckle of my fourth finger, and mostly, the swell of unconditional love I felt for a tiny being that I would be able to hold in under 9 months and I knew I would grow to love even more.

Almost every important thing in my life was surprising. But there was something romantic and inspiring about that that made it all okay. No matter how unexpected it was.

——
Fun fact: the part where Taylor asks what Adam’s doing in January was actually how my mum announced (kind of) to my dad that she was pregnant. I just found it really unique so I put it in.

Anyway, thanks for reading! X
~Maeve

Only her flame could light me up,
she ignited the spark that my heart set off
she took me higher than I’ve been before
that girl’s a free spirit.

We came from different worlds but we found each other
somehow stars brought us closer together
her character exploded like fireworks
that girl’s a free spirit.

And nothing can get her down,
no barriers could stop her now,
she’s got the power in her heart,
that girl’s a free spirit.

There’s something about those eyes,
that girl’s a free spirit.
I see the hope in her heart,
that girl’s a free spirit.
Always stands for what she believes,
that girl’s a free spirit.
Everything I wished for and more,
that girl’s a free spirit.

Liek a butterfly she represents freedom,
awakened my soul, now I feel reborn.
I [seem to mix it up?] when she walks in the room,
that girl’s a free spirit.

When it comes to love, she takes that chance
you will never see her giving up,
she lives in the moment, doesn’t need to impress
that girl’s a free spirit.

She’s all the things love should be,
not a day goes by that I don’t think of her.
She’s living outside the box,
that girl’s a free spirit.

There’s something about those eyes,
that girl’s a free spirit.
I see the hope in her heart,
that girl’s a free spirit.
Always stands for what she believes,
that girl’s a free spirit.
Everything I wished for and more,
that girl’s a free spirit.

Only her flame could light me up,
she ignited the spark that my heart set off
she took me higher than I’ve been before
that girl’s a free spirit.

We come from different worlds but we found each other
somehow our stars brought us closer together
her character exploded like fireworks
that girl’s a free spirit.

There’s something about those eyes,
that girl’s a free spirit.
I see the hope in her heart,
that girl’s a free spirit.
Always stands for what she believes,
that girl’s a free spirit.
Everything I wished for and more,
that girl’s a free spirit.

That girl’s a free spirit.

Free spirit.

—  Free Spirit by Jedward
We're Just The Teenage Waste // Michael Clifford One Shot // PREVIEW //

sO I started writing this but I’m not going to be able to finish it soon so enjoy a preview okay goodbye

Half-naked people crowded the dance floor, grinding and moving along to the beat, the fluorescent paint covering their bodies glowed brightly amongst the strobe lights and dark walls of the club. The atmosphere was heavy, the air thick and hot with sweat. The bass was shaking the walls with each song. It was loud, so loud that I couldn’t hear myself think. Even the confines of the washroom couldn’t block out the blaring music.

I propped myself up on the sink, fiddling with the lighter in my hands. I wasn’t in a mood to party; I just needed to get away from everything for a while. The club was too crowded for my tastes anyway. I’d much rather prefer sitting around a fire with some friends while some random indie band plays in the background but no, we had to go to a rave. “It’ll be fun!” They said. Bullshit. Normally, I’d be all up for getting wasted and going home with some guy but I just wasn’t feeling it tonight.

 All I wanted to do was run outside of the venue and light up a cig but my cigarettes were taken away from me in an attempt to ‘stop feeding my addiction’. I suppose it’s for my own good, I’ve been trying to quit. I was never a heavy smoker, more of a social smoker or a stress smoker but lately the number of cigarettes smoked a day has drastically increased. Too much stress in my life that I can’t cope with. I know smoking is one of the worst things a person could do for their health, but honestly, I’m going to end up in a casket one day so why does it matter. I was born to die, so why not enjoy my days on earth.

I shoved the tiny lighter back into my short pocket and hop off the sink. I take one last look around the beaten up, gratified washroom before re-entering the world of the wasted youth. The scent of alcohol and sweat hung low in the air, leading me towards the bar. I down whatever drink was put in front of me in a matter of seconds, the alcohol exciting every nerve in my body, making me feel alive for the first time in a while.

I scout the crowd for a suitable hookup, my eyes settling on a fluorescent giraffe. It wasn’t a real giraffe obviously, but a freakishly tall dude with neon green hair so in my eyes, it was a fluorescent giraffe. He was wearing black skinny jeans that clung to his legs like plastic wrap and a cut up Metallica shirt, a worn out leather jacket completing the look. There was something about him that ignited sparks throughout my body and from that point on, my goal was to befriend the giraffe.

As quickly as I found him, he disappears into the crowd. You’d think he’d be easy to spot but with everyone glowing and moving around it’s nearly impossible. In no mood to search for the mystery man, I trek outside into the cool autumn air. Instinctively my hand dives into my pockets for my pack of Marlboro, completely forgetting about my being banned from smoking. “Fuck.” I mutter, stomping at the ground like a two year old who isn’t allowed to have dessert. I slouch down against the wall of the club, fiddling with my lighter once again.