like the bottom two are perfect and the map but that is it

sweetheart

Summary: The man in the bar can’t seem to keep his eyes off you. || sebastian stan x reader || oneshot

Warnings: smut, oral (f/m receiving), face fucking, (very brief) naughty stuff in a (kinda) public place (its an elevator), wall sex

Note: Chris would be the best wingman lol; i’ll add this to the masterlist later

MASTERLIST

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Some Ilvermorny headcanons
  • First and foremost, every day is cranberry pie day
  • While students do have robes, the clothes they wear underneath the robes are not uniforms. There is an eclectic mix of tastes, from the very serious horned serpent who wears button-downs and ties every day, to the wampus who has enchanted their graphic t-shirt to move, to the thunderbirds and pukwudgies who mutually exist solely for sweater weather.
  • Every year on James Steward’s birthday, there is a school-sponsored cranberry pie bake-off. Pukwudgie house nearly always wins. Once, thunderbird won and good lord you would think it was the civil war all over again
  • There are a lot of local professors, of course, so you get some really thick Boston accents, but there are also professors with southern belle accents who serve iced tea in class, professors with Canadian accents, professors with midwest accents, several Native American professors with smooth, lulling accents, and some Mexican professors who slip into Spanish when they get super excited about their subject. There was a visiting professor from Ireland once, and 96% of female students (and some male students) had major crushes on him.
  • Wampus house is where you go to get body-crushing, soul-lifting hugs
  • Horned serpents may be scholars, but they are also some of the keenest observers. They watch the whole school from afar and quietly play matchmaker to all of their friends. No one suspects them because - what, horned serpent? No. They don’t know about emotions. Meanwhile, the house president makes a killing on the bet she made to predict the homecoming king/queen. 
  • Thanksgiving at Ilvermorny is a spectacle that has to be seen to be believed. It’s almost bigger than Christmas. The thanksgiving feasts at Ilvermorny put Hogwarts to shame. Turkey, ham, real cranberry sauce, pies - oh my god so many pies. They’ve got cider, and tea, and cocoa like you wouldn’t believe. There are New English dishes and Southern dishes and Native dishes and Mexican dishes and Canadian dishes and West Coast dishes - essentially it’s a gigantic continental potluck, and it goes on all day long. Also, their pumpkin juice tastes 1000 times better.
  • While things like dueling and fighting with wands may be frowned upon at Hogwarts, at Ilvermorny it’s kind of just assumed that stuff happens, and the profs are very chill about it. “Just don’t kill each other okay” “just take it outside” “no casting destruction spells indoors” “bring some band-aids with you” “if you break your nose don’t bleed on your homework”
  • Pukwudgies are a pretty agreeable house over all, if not a bit salty and surly around the edges, they’ll still help you with your homework and bring you soup when you’ve got a cold. But all bets are off when they step onto the lacrosse field. Maybe its a pride thing, but pukwudgies are frikkin animals when playing lacrosse.
  • Wampus beats pukwudgie at lacrosse fairly often. They don’t actually practice that much, they just kind of win.
  • This fact has fueled a sports rivalry - friendly in wampus’ eyes, bloodthirsty in pukwudgie’s eyes. 
  • At wampus/pukwudgie games, horned serpents sell special blends of popcorn. Thunderbirds purchase, hoard, and eat 89% of this popcorn.
  • Horned serpents and pukwudgies often, though not always, end up having an unspoken rivalry in potions class.
  • Contrary to popular belief, wampus is not full of athletic jocks. However, they are the most body-positive of all of the schools, and, somewhat ironically to the stereotype, will never judge anyone for their athletic ability. They want everyone to be able to enjoy athleticism and bravery and adventure in the ways they are most able and gifted.
  • That being said, they do have the kind of student body who, if called upon, could become a minute militia.
  • When there is a freak hurricane or tornado headed headed for the school, it will be a wampus student who is patrolling the halls and telling students where to go for safety. If there is a bully in school, you had better bet your bottom dollar that s/he will be beaten to a pulp by the next day, and it will be a wampus student sporting mysteriously bloody knuckles.
  • Pukwudgies are the ones who patch up the bully; they might accidentally wind the bandages a little too tight.
  • Thunderbirds love a good game of hide-and-seek. They have a tradition of, every halloween, playing hide-and-seek in the dark in the woods.
  • Horned serpents are the students least often caught for sneaking in contraband into school. Caught being the key word. Most students learn at some point in their education that if you want a nice stiff drink, you go to horned serpent. During secret designated holidays, horned serpent common room turns into a speakeasy. 
  • Unexpectedly, it is pukwudgies who carry the most weapons and dangerous materials on their person at any given time. If a group of Ilvermorny students were going through a security check, it would be the pukwudgies held at the line while they emptied their pockets (bigger on the inside, of course) of various poisons and weapons. When asked, they would just shrug and say “just in case”.
  • The town around Ilvermorny is home to several franchised chain restaurants that, although they are no-maj brands, have been taken over by Ilvermorny alumni and thus serve predominantly wizarding patrons. Cups levitate to customers in the Starbucks, there are magic-only options on the menu; the chik-fil-a floor sweeps itself; at dominos the pizzas assemble themselves while the one clerk waits, bored, at the register. There are in-house cues for magic patrons whenever a no-maj walks in. The clerk rings a bell or taps loudly on the counter, or yells out an order than is actually a code word for stop doing magic stuff. It’s like red light green light.
  • There are some old service tunnels beneath the school left over from WWII and the Cold War. They’re like a labyrinth, and Thunderbird has a monopoly on the maps to the tunnels. Some of the more obscure tunnels have large rooms that are perfect for parties and impromptu speakeasies (lookin at you, horned serpent). Thunderbirds will rent out these rooms to fellow students at a fair and competitive rate.
  • Unlike hogwarts, Ilvermorny students are more apt to use modern technology. Electrics can be weird around witches and wizards, but they still enjoy a lot of no-maj programming. They use computers instead of quills (but still have to print off their essays, ugh,) and listen to music, and watch TV.
  • Star Trek has long been a school cult favorite. Pukwudgies have adopted Bones as their pop culture mascot; Kirk is Thunderbird’s, Spock, horned serpent. Wampus vacillates on which of these three they like most, though it must be said, when they start watching Next Gen, many wampus students find themselves enamored with Worf,
  • There has only been one no-maj to ever make it past the magic shields of Ilvermorny unaided. This instance was in 1985. His name was Chad, who at the time was 1) stoned out of his mind and 2) delivering chinese takeout to a horned serpent pulling an all-nighter. School admin found out later, and there was hell to pay. They never did track down Chad to wipe his memory.
  • Pukwudgie house does have more than its fair share of healers, so they are definitely the ones to go to for cold remedies, home made soup, the best cures for menstrual cramps, and really good back rubs.
  • However, they are also the ones to go to for less medical remedies: the best hot cocoa, the most gourmet teas, and home made food.
  • Each house has a class president who is elected for a two-year term (unless they’re a final year student, in which case they will serve one before being taken over by their VP). They have some influence within their houses, but never as much as they’d like. For instance, the thunderbird president once attempted to institute mid-day dancing parties, but school admin said no.
  • Pukwudgies are usually not super athletic, but are often very good at things like darts, archery, and waterbaloon fights.
  • Wampus takes ultimate frisbee very, very seriously.
  • Thunderbird hosts an ongoing scavenger hunt throughout the semester.
  • The women of horned serpent blow off steam and the stuffy acadmic pressures of their house by making pillow forts and watching rom coms with each other.
  • Back in the eighties some wizard created a magic version of D&D, and it has become a weekend favorite of many students across all of the houses.
  • After graduation, instead of having a class ring, it has become tradition for Ilvermorny students to make a pendant out of their golden cloak buttons.
  • Ilvermorny may be separated by inter-house squabbles much like at Hogwarts, but at the end of the day, they all leave school wearing the same blue and cranberry robes, sporting the same skill with a wand, raised to the same scrappy, witty, mod-podge tenacity that American witches and wizards embody so well.

Uncle Gerry’s Family Fun Zone

by reddit user Red_Grin

This is a lengthy story but it is worth it:

I didn’t know Will could draw, I remember thinking as my friend’s hand quickly moved across the page. And then I looked more closely at Will’s impromptu sketch, and I immediately regretted it. I tried to unsee it. I shifted my attention to other things around me, anything at all that wasn’t ink on the page: the blur of Will’s hand, the beads of sweat gathering at his temples, the gentle autumn breeze creeping through the crack of the window.

Don’t look at the page. Just don’t look at it.

But I knew I had to. So I looked. And it was worse than I expected. Much worse.

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I’ve got my swim trunks, and my flippie-floppies

for @legividivici, hope you like it!! <3 (ao3)


The last place Clarke expected to run into anyone she knows is the literal middle of the ocean, but the cruise ship has barely left port before she spots a familiar head of tousled curls ahead of her in the crowd.

She loses sight of him before she can get a good look, so she chalks it up to her imagination. It’s entirely possible that Bellamy is on the same cruise she is– they did, after all, both just graduate, and therefore have the same budget and scheduling constraints– but she tells herself it probably isn’t him. And that even if it is him, it’s not like they’re going to run into each other.

So of course the next day she’s on one of the decks by the pool when a shadow falls over her and his voice says, “Is this chair taken?”

Clarke pushes her sunglasses up on top of her head and wrinkles her nose at him.

“I don’t know, I my tiara really ought to have a chair of its own.”

Bellamy smirks and sits on the edge of the chair, not moving her stuff– not yet– but settling in to bicker with her. As is their custom.

She and Bellamy were RAs in the same dorm two years ago, and they had differing ideas at first about how hands-on they needed to be with their freshmen. Despite the way they picked at each other, by the end of the year they’d become reluctant allies, his calling her ‘Princess’ taking on less of a sneer and more of a teasing edge, her comebacks laced with a smile. They had each other’s backs.

But she didn’t re-up her RA contract for her senior year, and he did, and they’re not the type of friends to outright admit they miss each other, so she hasn’t seen nearly as much of him in the past couple of semesters as she would like.

“You here with Wells?”

“And Raven,” she nods. “I was saving those seats for them, but I’m pretty sure they ditched me to have tiny cabin sex.”

“O and Lincoln ditched me pretty fast too. I think they’ve all forfeited their right to a saved seat,” he grins, passing her bag back to her. The way he lounges back in the chair, skin already browning, wind ruffling his hair, he looks like something straight out of an ad. Or Clarke’s fantasies. Either one, really.

Just because she used to think he was a Class-A dick (which he is, but not in the way she thought. In the fun way.) doesn’t mean she’s never noticed how great his hands are, or how he’s got perfect hair for pulling, or how there’s probably more than one way to wipe a smirk off his face.

“Sure, make yourself at home,” she grumbles. He grins at her and pulls his shirt off, which is– honestly just so unfair.

“Don’t mind if I do.”

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anonymous asked:

can you do a daddy!dom!phil and dom!pj with bottom!dan? if you could have dan call pj something like sir that would be great too. Feel free to add anything

Yo I went a bit nuts with the “add anything”. Includes daddy!kink, exhibitionism, degradation , toys, fisting, double penetration, Dan being a little cock/cumslut jfc someone stop me.

Phil loves living with Dan, there’s no question about it. When it comes to roommates, Dan’s the full package; he’s Phil’s best friend, so he always has someone to talk to and play video games with, but he’s also his boyfriend, which means blowjobs and cuddles, too. He has all the other attributes of a great roommate as well – he cooks and cleans up after himself and always pays his rent on time. It’s very rare that they squabble and if they do it’s over something silly that’s resolved by the time they head to bed together. They’re perfect for each other, but the only problem with having such an incredible all-in-one human like Dan is that they tend to forget other people exist. It’s never on purpose, they just have a habit of getting caught up in their little life together and end up neglecting their other friends. That’s why, when Phil realises it’s almost been a year since they’ve seen PJ, he picks up the phone and invites their old friend around.

Another thing Dan and Phil don’t do as much as they used to is drink, so when the curly-haired 26-year-old turns up at their door, green eyes twinkling and right hand clutching a bottle of Jack Daniels, Phil knows it’s going to be an interesting night.

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Fireworks

Characters:  Reader x Dean (Brief cameo by Sam)

Summary:  Dean and reader escape the bunker on a warm summer evening.

A/N:  This is for @jensen-jarpad  ‘s challenge, “Let’s Celebrate”.

Word Count:  2199

Warnings:  Smut/Language

As always, feedback is welcomed and appreciated.  Tags are at the bottom. There is still room on my Forever Tag list.  Please add yourself here

Originally posted by fencehopping

Fireworks

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” I urge.

Sam groans, Dean looks mildly intrigued.  

“I have work to do, but you two go on, have fun,” Sam says. He sounds like a dad sending his annoying kids off to play. Dean and I have both been feeling restless, the walls of the bunker closing in on us.  

We’ve been cooped up in here too long, no case to work, no outlet for our energy. Dean’s like me in that regard. Too much time sitting idle makes me antsy. I’m about ready to climb the walls.

“I’m in,” Dean says, pushing his chair away from the table.

“Yay!” I exclaim, a little overenthusiastically. “I’m going to go get changed.”

———–

Dean’s eyes widen when I rejoin him in the library in my cutoff denim shorts and star-spangled halter top. A thrill shoots through me when I see him taking in my curves and lines with appreciation.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Just need a few supplies first.” He follows me to to the kitchen where I pull two six packs out of the fridge. “You grab the cooler.”

Dean returns with the green cooler just as I finish making sandwiches. “Ice,” I direct him. Dean loads the cooler while I go snag a blanket.  

“All set?” he asks.

I can’t keep the dopey grin off my face. “Yes!”  I’m so unbelievably excited to get out of the bunker. Especially with Dean.  

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Waking him up! 😊🙈

submitted by @cherieann-2001

I was going to combine this with another gif, but frustrations got the best of me and I deleted about 3 paragraphs. Hopefully this is what you were looking for! Thanks for following, love.

You were sitting up in bed staring at your laptop for what seemed like hours. Your lack of patience was starting to get the best of you as you waited for Sam to wake up. Watching your boyfriend sleeping peacefully next to you was turning you on and you had no idea why. Maybe it was the way his hair was spread out over his pillow, or the way his body relaxed when sleep was his only worry in this world, no monsters, no Lucifer, no research to stress over. You really wanted to leave him be but the persistent tingling between your legs begged you to wake him up and take what you wanted.

Assuming Sam would appreciate your spontaneity, you gave in to your desire. Gently sitting your laptop on top of the nightstand, you slowly pulled the blankets away from both your bodies. Sam shifted in his sleep and you stiffened, waiting for him to settle back into his deep sleep. Letting out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, you continued your journey south noting the thick line of his already stiff cock under the thin fabric of his boxer briefs. You felt another tingle run through your body at the sight, stopping between his conveniently spread legs to actually look at him and take in his beautiful form.

It was a rare opportunity to be able to just watch him. The two of you were always so eager in bed, you rarely stopped long enough to take in the other, it was always just a massive tangle of limbs, lips, and teeth, both of you anxious to feel skin against skin as quickly as possible. So you watched, taking in every dip and line, every muscle, every inch of his skin; some parts covered in thick patches of hair, some a little thinner, some completely bare. You watched every muscle that rippled when he took a breath, the way his veins throbbed against his neck, his adam’s apple when it bobbed against his throat. The longer you just watched, the wetter you felt yourself becoming. His body, his face, his heart, it was all pure perfection and in that moment you were never happier to call him yours.

Quickly, you stripped your own clothes off before leaning down and running your hand up one of his thighs, trailing your thumb over the sculpted muscle and gliding your fingers up the leg of the briefs. Your fingertips met his long member, finding the sensitive veins you had memorized, taking advantage of the map that was seared into your memory from the countless times your tongue had traced those same veins. Sam’s breaths became labored, his jaw started clenching and eyebrows furrowing, not waking completely until you started to gently massage his balls.

Removing your hand, you pulled the briefs slowly down his waist, stopping to enjoy the spring of his cock when it was finally free of its confines, watching it land on his stomach with a small smack, his tip almost lined up with his belly button. Letting the band rest atop his thighs, you followed the thick vein on the underside of his cock to his leaking tip, dipping your tongue in for a sample, humming around the swollen head as you wrapped your lips over just the head. Looking up through your eyelashes, Y/C/E were met with his hazel ones. He was watching you intently, his soft bottom lip sucked through his perfect white teeth. “Damn, baby. Not that I’m complaining, but what got into you?”

“Got tired of waiting on you to wake up…needed you…fuckin’ soaked for you Sam.” You replied between kisses up and down his shaft, “You could have jus–, ahh fuck!” You cut him off, taking him as far as your throat would allow, swallowing around him before pulling back up. He led you up his body, adjusting himself and your hips so that he was lined up with your entrance.

“That was a nice way to wake up, baby but now all I want to do is fuck you until you can’t speak.”

A few hours later you were spent, your body was sprawled across the bed and your limbs seemed to be made of jelly.

“So, did I come through on my promise?” Sam asked with a hopeful glint in his eye.

“Mhmm…” you couldn’t seem to form anything past that single thought.

Quidditch Matches - Fred Weasley

Word Count: 4,223

Prompt: Fred and his Gryffindor girlfriend attend a Quidditch match together when other plans lead them back to Fred’s dorm room.

This is just based off and idea on what I could see happening if Fred Weasley brought his Gryffindor girlfriend to a Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin.

Warnings: Fluff, very light smut, mention of sex, unedited 


“Hurry up, love! We’re gonna miss the match if we don’t get there in time!” Whipping your head around you found the source of the voice. You rolled your e/c eyes abated at your eager boyfriend. Fred was practically dancing back and forth on his toes as he stood waiting for you in the light mist. His red hair was hidden under a dampen wool hat, the ends sticking to his skin.

“Give me a second, Fred. I just need to put my boots on.” You mumbled leaning up against the brick walls of the castle. Fred Weasley had been raving the entire week about the Quidditch match playing out Saturday night. It was set between Slytherin and Ravenclaw and for some reason your boyfriend was more than thrilled to attend. He managed to hook you in and when Saturday finally did roll around, the match was all he could talk about. At five o'clock on the dot Fred dragged you out of the Gryffindor common room, where most of your weekends were spent, before you could even get dressed for the occasion. You snatched your raincoat off the hook, lucky for you a pair of thin fleece gloves were buried in the pocket, your boots by the door, and a homemade tie blanket to sit on.

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well, im making this because i don’t want you beginners to be like me, annoying all my tumblr friends and overall practically ripping my hair out trying to make literally anything in photoshop

so i’ve compiled a list of all my short tricks that will make learning how to use photoshop, a hell of a lot easier

resources will be at the bottom!

PLEASE LIKE AND/OR REBLOG IF YOU FOUND THIS USEFUL

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CS AU: Witch & The Wolf 

Emma put a few more logs on the fire as the sun was nearly down and Killian would be there soon. She set to work making up their camp - a flick of her wrist and a grand tent appeared, a king sized bed right in the middle and loaded down with soft linens, plush pillows and a warm fur blanket. The soft twinkling lights that lined the ceiling was sure to create the perfect atmosphere, not that they really needed help. Next she magicked a cooler chest filled with delicacies they would surely need later in the night to replenish their spent energy along with wine and other assorted drinks.

A satisfied smile spread across her face as she gave the camp a once over. Nodding as she straightened her flannel shirt, she turned back to the fire and settled into a chair by the fire, watching the sunset. 

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@andromedainwonderland said:

Teen Wolf-Scooby Doo, as in, the Teen Wolf crew driving around in the Jeep solving supernatural mysteries. Just me?

So I don’t know what this is, but this fic turned out to be my ARCH NEMESIS, so, you know, make of that what you will. It’s even alternating POVs, which I haven’t written in years upon years. So please appreciate how much this story wanted to kill me, and how we’re still eyeing each other with open hostility from different corners of the room.


The groundskeeper has gnarled, knotted fingers and rheumy eyes, and it takes five hundred years for him to turn the key in the rusted padlock.  The gate creaks almost as loud as his bones, and Derek flicks an ear in irritation.

“That’s a big dog you’ve got there,” he says, only mildly curious.

Stiles buries one hand in the scruff around Derek’s neck. “Not sure he is one,” Stiles says, and Derek cocks his head up at him.

Scott has the van idling behind them.

Derek takes a deep breath and sneezes. Decay, old blood, and sulfur flood his senses—he whines softly. He doesn’t have a good feeling about this.

The old house looms in front of them, stone and spires, ominous, cloaked in shadows thrown by the nearly full moon. His skin ripples under his fur, uneasy, and he tucks his tail between his legs.

“Relax,” Stiles murmurs to him. “This is easy money, right? A simple salt and burn.”

Derek huffs, knocks into Stiles’ side as he hastily turns around, and then slinks back to the van. He doesn’t like this place. He never likes haunted places, too much lingering despair that stirs up old guilt, but this house feels like it’s made out of skeleton bones, dread sits like a stone in his belly.

Lydia already has the side of the van open. He hops in, slides past Kira, and then digs into Stiles’ open duffle, buries his snout in an old t-shirt that smells a little bit like Scott, too.

“Dude,” Stiles says when he climbs in after him. “Come on.”

Derek growls, low in his throat, and Stiles backs off with a huffy, “Fine, be that way.”

The van grinds into gear and rolls forward slowly, tires bumping over the cobblestone drive, and Derek feels like his chest is caving in.

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Pixel Art Tree Tutorial

When I first started out doing pixel art I couldn’t find a good tutorial on how to make trees. So now that I’m a bit better, I’ve decided to make my own! 

For this tutorial, you’ll need some sort of digital art program. You probably shouldn’t be looking at digital art tutorials if you don’t have a digital art program. I use Pro Motion, but I’m pretty sure that Gimp and Photoshop work too. 

For space-saving reasons, I’ll put the rest beneath the read more

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Present

Originally posted by grysamobojcow

Request: DC imagine where the reader is Lady Joker. Joker can’t stand it when the reader “steals the show” but can’t help being captivated by the reader.

For: @theshe-wolfwaits
Words: 1,840

Leto!Joker x Reader – Didn’t really know where to go with one to be honest.


“Don’t you like my desk?” You asked innocently. You leaned back into your luxury leather spinning chair and rested your feet on the large oak desk in front of you. It had taken five of your men to bring it into your office. The thin, unassuming man on the other side of the desk rubbed his hand together anxiously.
“It’s nice.” He squeaked.
“Thank you!” You gave him a beaming grin which didn’t relax him. He was your informant, one of The Joker’s men. The Joker. You’d met just a few times but you loved to piss him off whenever you had the chance – call it flirting.

“So, when is Jokey taking the bank?” you asked him threading your fingers together and acting almost like a professional.
The informant looked nervous, “You’ll make sure that Mr J can’t get to me, that’s what you said, right?”
You jumped up from your chair so fast that it was still spinning as you walked around the side of the desk and perched against it in front of him. You placed your hand on his cheek and spoke softly like a mother calming her child after a nightmare, “I promise that mean old clown won’t hurt you.”
“Tomorrow morning.” He told you and pulled a file out from his the inside of his jacket. He handed it to you and you quickly read over it. It had all the details of The Joker’s bank heist.

Great, now you knew where to find him. It was a lot of trouble to go through just to see your crush but you weren’t a quitter.
“This is just what I needed.” You thanked the informant and placed the folder down on the desk, picked up your gun from beside it, turned and shot him between the eyes. His body flew back from the close range and crumpled into a bloody pile in the middle of your floor.

Behind your desk Veck, your right hand man, tutted in disappointment, “Do you know how much it costs to get a carpet cleaner who can get blood out and keep their mouth shut?”
You pouted at his berating, “I know that you’ll handle it Vecky. I kept my promise, The Joker never touched him. Besides, I hate rats.”

—-

“Mr J, there’s a problem.”

The Joker sneered at his henchmen and shoved him aside. He stalked into the bank, flanked by his men. The bank was trashed and empty of people save for you. You were stood in the middle of the empty bank with a shot gun leant on one shoulder and a large satchel bag on your other shoulder.

“What took you so long?” You asked and tapped your bare wrist with your finger as though you were tapping a watch. He scowled and looked around the empty bank.
“Oh, I put everyone in the vault.” You said flippantly.  
He said nothing but his eyes took you in.

You pouted, “I went to all the trouble of putting this together and you won’t even talk to me?”
“What do you want?” The Joker asked, his raspy voice making you grin.
“See that’s better!” You beamed, “Maybe I just wanted your attention. See, I even got you a present.”
You threw the satchel bag over to him. It landed at his feet and he regarded it curiously as one of his men held it open to show him the bundles of cash inside, no doubt stolen out of the vault.

He sucks in a breath and inclined his head while he considered accepting the bag, “What have I done to deserve a present?”
“I’m just a big fan.” You grinned.

You stepped forwards to leave, making sure to walk past him on the way. He turned sideways as you passed him, your eyes locked with his and your chests brushed as you slowly moved past him. He let you go and watched the doorway where you’d left before turning back to the emptied bank. There was no destruction to cause, nothing left to rob, no show at all! He stalked over to a nearby desk, took a hold of it and flipped it over.

Where was his fun now?!

Snarling, he glanced back to where his men waited with the bag full of money that you’d given him. His snarl turned to a smirk. Maybe there was still fun to be had.

The Joker sat back on his plush sofa, arms lay across the top of cushions.
“So boys, what have we got this time?” He asked two of his men who had set up a projector in front of their boss. It was littered with photos and maps of all of your recent illegal activities. Every escapade that he’d planned, you got too first. He’d been upstaged at every turn and it had made him obsessive. You’d certainly caught his interest and his eye.

They loaded up security footage from a night club that The Joker often did business at. He watched as you turned to the security camera, gave a dramatic wink and then blew a kiss at the camera. He grinned to himself a mirror imagine of the mad grin inked into the back of his hand.
“This is the most recent thing , Sir.” One of his men told him as he pressed play and your manic grin filed The Jokers projected screen again. He watched as you walked with Veck, The Joker had done his research into your associates, into a meeting only for the man that you meeting to pull out a gun and open fire.

It was a clear view of Veck tackling you to the ground, your shoulder instantly spewing blood before Veck practically carried you out of the fray while your men opened fire on your attacker.
The Joker sucked in a harsh breath, his head tilted as he pointed at your assailant now paused on the screen, “Bring him to me, we have business to talk about.”

—-

“Stop pouting.” Veck told you but you crossed your arms, flinching as your shoulder throbbed again, and pouted more.
“My shoulder hurts and The Joker is ignoring my flirting, I think I deserve a good pout.” You answered. Veck rolled his eyes at you and you did a little mocking dance over to where you had a man bound to a chair with thick duct tape. You pushed his forehead with two fingers until he tipped all the way over and crashed back onto the floor. He tried to scream but it didn’t make it past the duct tape across his mouth that you’d painted with a mad grin.
Sitting on his chest you traced the smile with your finger, “Shh. I found out that a lil Bat has been look all over town for you, apparently you want to rat on Mr J. I don’t like rats so I’m going to make you an example and you’re my last shot of getting Mr J’s attention. If he still hasn’t warmed up to me after I give him you then maybe it wasn’t to be.”

You rested your elbows on your knees and your chin in your hands and pouted, you didn’t want to think about giving up on The Joker but he just didn’t seem interested.
“Y/N, you wanna see this.” Veck’s voice caught your attention and you sighed pushing yourself up from the man’s chest, he grunted as you moved. Joining Veck by the window you peeked out of the window through the blinds to see a purple Lamborghini parked outside. The car door opened and The Joker’s green hair was the first thing that you saw until he looked up and made eye contact with you.
He gave you a smirk before stepping into the building with his men in tow. You let out a squeal of excitement, jumped away from the window and started to fix your hair. Sitting yourself down on oil drum behind the man who was still taped to the tipped over chair, you waited for him to come in. Veck stepped behind you and gently moved some of your hair into place and you thanked him just before the door swung open.

The Joker stepped through the threshold, his eyes on you instantly, he moved towards you, his expression intent. He stopped only when he reached the man on the floor, noticing the rat duck taped for his convenience for the first time.
“For me?” He rasped.
You nodded, “I thought you’d like it.”

He stepped around the man towards you and stopped so that he leant over you sat on the drum. Veck tensed and you raised a hand to stop him interfering.
The Joker leaned down so that his face hovered over yours, “Its perfect.”
You resisted the giggle that tried to bubble up inside you and instead offered him a grin. His face was close to yours still when he added, “I actually brought you something.”
You felt heat rise in your cheeks, “You did?”

“Well, you got me a present so this was only fair.” The Joker told you as he turned to gesture for his men to bring something in. your face was split in a grin again when the man who had shot you’re a few days earlier was dragged into the room by his foot. He was unconscious and his face was covered in blood and snot.  The Joker noticed you looking at his injuries, “I hope you don’t mind, I saw what happened.”
His fingers came up to gently brush your injured shoulder and your stomach flipped at the contact. You brought your hands up to either side of his jacket and pulled him down to you so that you could kiss him. He responded with earnest, his hands finding your hair and pulled you towards him with it in harsh, rapid motions.
You pulled apart from him and smiled, “It’s a wonderful present.”
He leaned back into you and bit your bottom lip lightly before answering, “That’s not even the best part.”

He stepped away from you to take his a bundle of black material from one of his men, he took it over to an aged table and rolled it out so show all of the weapons hidden inside. Hatchets, cleavers, screwdrivers, some so pristine that they made your eyes water while some where rusted, dull and painted with dried blood.
You clapped your hands together excitedly and jumped off of your drum to stand beside The Joker in front of the table, “What a beautiful date idea!”
His arm wrapped around your waist pulling you in front of him so that he could kiss your neck and hiss in your ear, “The first of many.”

Making Love

Rating: M

Summary: They say that there is a thin line between true love and stupidity… I don’t know where we fall Sakura, but who cares, right?


a/n: I wrote this right after my exams. I wrote this on a whim. I wrote this, not knowing I would be writing a fluff-smut fic.

This is a sort of sequel to Daddy-like Kid, starring Boruto and Sarada, but this fic can stand on its own. I don’t own Naruto. This is also posted in my Fan Fiction Account: AliceInRealWorld. I hope you guys will enjoy it! :3


I woke up with a sharp jolt. I didn’t have the time to remember the context of the nightmare. The dark room didn’t help. It only lured the images that had faded. The silence didn’t help. It only encouraged the voices of my distress that disrupted my sleep. It was the nightmare so disturbing that it left my heart to beat plangently, causing my ears to ring, making my head ache, tightening my chest.

Cold sweat started to secrete from my bare skin, mixing with the sticky precipitation that was produced from last night’s copulating.

I trembled. I waited for the pounding of my heart to slow down. I thought back the passionate hours to keep my mind from retracting in the darkness. I combated the blood-curling screams with the timbre of my Sakura’s pleased moans and small whimpers. I replaced the scenes of death with the picture of my wife’s pink hair, curtaining her bright green eyes as she erratically move her hips to achieve euphoria.

That’s right. It’s alright if I got roused again and had to relieve it by myself (it’s rude to wake someone up just for such insolent reason.)

I allowed myself to think of anything, everything, just to dispel affective residue of the nightmare.

Think of anything but that.

“Sasuke-kun.” I flinched.

A small, delicate hand patted my back. When I didn’t respond, the hand trailed on to my shoulder, squeezing it affectionately. She scooted closer so she can place her chin on the spot where the curse mark used to reside. “Do you want to talk about it?”

After hearing those words, the dangerous beating of my heart appeased. I bowed down and shook a no.

She made a sound behind her throat, a sign that she’s thinking of ways to distract me from my thoughts. The hand on my shoulder tickled its way down my sole arm. Her nimble fingers traced the visible veins and then it landed on my palm where she drew infinite spirals. She repeated this antic until my breathing went back to normal.

“I’m not supposed to say this.” She began as her hand clasped mine. She pressed her body closer, my bare back feeling her healthy breasts. “But I think Sarada has already forgotten about it, so I guess it is okay to share it.”

I squeezed her hand, silently encouraging her to continue.

She let out a giggle, “When Sarada was six she started a list that she called, ‘Things That I’m Gonna Tell Papa When He Comes Home.’

A small smile graced on my lips. I released Sakura’s hand then gently shrug her off. Understanding my actions, she moved away and began piling the pillows against the headboard. When that’s done, I rested my back on the make-shift lean. I opened my arm, gesturing her to come closer. She happily obliged. She took a small pillow, placed it on my nether region before sitting on my lap. I wrap my arm around her waist. She looped an arm round my neck. I pulled our comforter over our naked body.

“What does it contain?” I mumbled.

“Hmm…” She wondered as her fingers play with my hair. “On the… Let’s say, preface of her list, she said, ‘Papa comes home only once or twice a month. You have to persuade him to teach you something new.’ Then at the bottom, there’s a footnote that says, ‘You have to perfect everything that Papa teaches you Sarada! Shannaro!’

We chuckled quietly in unison. Nuzzling her cheek on the crook of my neck she continued, “If memory serves right, one of her anecdotes is when she finally perfected her shuriken throws. You should’ve seen her solo trainings Sasuke-kun. Every day, I had to tend her hands full of cuts and grazes.”

My eyebrows knotted as Sakura tells the story because of two reasons. One, old friends, regret and longing visited my chest. I wish I was there to see, watch her struggle for greatness.

“Oh! Speaking of training, next to shuriken throwing is, ‘The Day I Finally Created a Katon Goukakyuu!’” She made a circle in the air, her viridian eyes gleaming with pride. “She never faltered even if her cheeks are blistered!”

She laughed softly at the memory. She glanced up and reached for my forehead. “You know what Sasuke-kun?” She tenderly brushed away the bangs that’s covering my other eye then cupped my face, “She reminds me of you.”

And two-Sakura’s right, verbalizing my thoughts perfectly. Sarada reminds me of me, Sasuke, two decades younger. Sasuke with eyes that can shine even if they’re dark as coal. Sasuke who had his head lifted as he chase down his idol, his inspiration, his reason. Sasuke who died in my personal nightmare.

“She embodies you in so many ways. Not that I’m complaining though.” She sighed dramatically then pointedly followed, “But I wish a child would inherit some of my features.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Is that bad? That… she’s like me?”

‘lub-DUB…’

Do you think that she’ll also commit the same mistakes and sins that I did?

‘lub-DUB.’ Inferiority. ‘lub-DUB.’ Fear. ‘lub-DUB.’ Anxiety. ‘lub-DUB -!’

Do you think she’ll get lost on the darkness too?

‘LUB-DUB, LUB-DUB-!’ Trauma. ‘LUB-DUB, LUB-DUB-!’ Hatred. ‘LUB-DUB, LUB-DUB-!’ Loneliness-

‘LUB-DUB!’

The awful metamorphosis of my heart in the last moment of my childhood, hand in hand, the countless tomoe spiraled in to a constant repetition.

When can you say that you have atoned for the sins you have done?

“Sasuke, love.” I flinched.

Sakura ran her fingers through my hair as her other hand remained on my temple, keeping my bangs from covering my powerful eyes. She held their glare, showing no fear. “That’s not what I’m trying to say.”

I know. But…

“Is that bad?” I asked again, this time, it came out raspy and strained. “Do you think-”

She kissed the tip of my nose then pinched my cheeks, “Of course not! You got it all wrong Sasuke-kun!”

It was her blush and her futile effort to hide her breasts that supported her words, “ahhh I shouldn’t have said that! I’m sorry Sasuke-kun!”  

No. It’s my fault. Sometimes… This heart of mine falters easily when reminded of its old scars.

“Hn.” Having no idea how to return the ambiance of nostalgia, I turned my attention to her belly. In an attempt to distract myself from the rising panic, I started to map out the smooth pattern of her stretch marks.

She gasped at the touch. She replied by tugging at my hair. “It’s alright, Sasuke-kun.”

I have to turn the tables before this conversation went downhill. “What were you trying to say then?”

The crimson hue on her cheeks deepened. I pondered if it’s because the trail of my fingers was leading deep down to her thighs or it’s because of the illocutionary force behind her words.

Or maybe both.

“I remember another anecdote from her list.” She offered with voice strangled between decency and erotica. “T’was the d-day she went home late. Her eyes were puffy from crying and her glasses were broken.”

My hand paused when her words registered. “Who did it?” I asked sharply.

She massaged through my hair again to calm my nerves, “Sarada was bullied. When I asked her who and why, she won’t tell me because she knows that I’ll make a huge fuss about it.” She let out a melancholic sigh. “It was Naruto’s children who told me about it. Boruto explained, ‘we found her crying under the slide because some jerks broke her glasses and told her that she’s adopted.’

So that’s when she started to doubt her mother.

I pulled Sakura closer and planted a chase peck on her forehead.

She placed a hand on my chest as a response and connected the scars that decorate my skin. “But get this Sasuke-kun-Sarada entitled that anecdote ‘Daddy-like Kid.’ She cracked a smirk. “Himawari told me it was Boruto that calmed Sarada down.”

I kept my expression blank but no doubt she noticed my tense muscles. All of the emotions that surfaced because of the nightmare and unnecessary panic attack died down. However, to my demise, it was replaced by crazy assumptions, fueled by my fatherly instincts, suggesting of what could be the possible future of-

“Darling.” Sakura directed her lips on my ear, “Your jealous side is showing~”

I cringed back to glare at her properly, “I am not jealous.”

She narrowed her eyes mischievously, challenging my infamous glare, “oh really now.” She copied my smirk. “So it is fine that Sarada thinks of Boruto as-”

I dove down to capture her lips, preventing her from saying another word about the ridiculous matter. She giggled at my growls, still teasing through the use of lips and tongue and rising intimacy.

She tried to withdraw from the assaults of my mouth but failed ultimately. She instead let her body melt in to my dominance by audaciously asking for an entrance.

When I refused, she wrapped both arms around my neck and then swiftly shifted in to a straddling position to win back control. She now had me trapped between her legs, boldly showing what’s in between. And to further clarify the contexture of her demands, she lewdly ground her hips, flattening the pillow (and something else beneath it that’s throbbing) that prevents us from colliding.

I groaned out of frustration because that minimal amount of sensual pressure was not enough. And she took this as an opportunity to gasp for air as she annoyingly chortled. She brushed off my bangs again then placed her forehead to mine.

Our eyes met. “Are you okay now?”

I held her gaze. My heart picked up its pace. The countless, rotating tomoe dispel under her emerald eyes.  

Are you okay now?

Emerald eyes that have always been asking those words always have been looking at me even if it makes her cry. Those are the eyes that brought light to our coal black eyes, Sarada. The gleam that I never thought would come back. Those are the eyes that granted me the ability to think of a mirthful place in the midst of my chaotic mind. The place where all the forgotten beautiful memories reside that I never believed that could be revived.

           Am I okay now?

           Yes. Those are the emerald eyes that made me remember Sasuke who always die in the nightmares. Those are the beautiful eyes that beaconed as one of the proofs that there is something worth discovering, something worth protecting in this cruel world of ninjas.

“Sasuke-kun?” She caressed my cheeks.

           I captured her lips again, slowly, devotedly, reverting from the animalistic desires earlier. Her hands found their way to my hair again, tying knots, drawing me closer. My shoulders relaxed as the temperature of the room rose once again.

           Do you want to talk about it?

           It was my brother, Itachi’s love that demonstrated me the highest form of unmitigated familial love. It was the love that I have forgotten because it was buried underneath layers of deception, diffidence and corruption.

           “Sa-ku-ra…” My fingers outlined her spine with every syllable of her name, armed with the knowledge that the gesture turns her on.

           Yes. I want to talk about it but…

           It was Naruto, the idiot, which made me realize that I have someone who understands the pain and the loneliness of an orphaned kid starving for love-finding nothing but hatred. It was Naruto who swore that he would always willingly, stubbornly drag my ass back when I lost to the darkness again. It was him who taught me that it’s vacuous to sacrifice your own happiness so that you can cold-heartedly save the world.

           “S-sasuke…” She moaned as my lips ghosted to her jaw, then to her chin and then peppered hot nips on her neck. One of her hand relocated to my chest, drawing smooth lines leading leisurely down to my chiseled abs. She dared an experimental thrust, causing me to bite down at her pulse, earning herself a love mark and prizing me with the sweet sound of her whimpers.

           “Sakura…”

           -it was you who never did give up on loving me in spite of my countless, unforgivable attempts in ending your life. It was you-your lively eyes, your ever loyal heart, your boar-like determination that brought me in to conclusion that one of the justifiable means to obtain peace is to truly, faithfully, unconditionally love.

“Sasuke-kun…” She whined unabashedly as my lips latched themselves to one of her pink, perky breasts. Her hand ventured below the belt, trying to remove the pillow. It was my turn to halt her from getting what she wanted as I amorously embraced her closer, closer, until our torsos mashed. I rolled her other nipple between my teeth, making her arch her back, allowing me to behold a better view of her arousal.

I don’t know how to tell you.

I thought about it as I was on journey to redemption-it was Naruto and Itachi, my brothers who allowed me to forgive the world.

And that, it was team seven that reminded me what’s like to have a family.

“Sa-ku-ra-chan.” I mumbled against the valley of her bosoms. “You’re right…”

So, instead, let me show you…

-you who convinced me that it was time to forgive myself-

“A-about what, Sa-su-ke-kun?”

Let me prove to you…

-you, Sakura Uchiha, who strengthened our bond by graciously adopting my name even if you knew the burden it carried. Even if you knew I would be seldom home, resulting to numerous rumors about our marriage. For example, I chose you because of physical attraction or maybe because I couldn’t be bothered to search for a more suitable vassal to restore the Uchiha Clan.

I returned to her sweet lips and muttered, “I would love to make, I mean, see a child bearing your features~”

That I’m forever thankful…

As a respond to those accusations, you intrepidly showed those people, who would never understand, that the time you can truly say that it is love is when-even if every bits and pieces of flaws are laid bare and even if hope is just a small ray of light, it is enough to sacrifice, to inspire one in holding on and moving on along love and hate.

She shivered at my words. I tried to subtly slide away the pillow between our… a, object of desire but she ceased my attempt by clutching my waist with her muscled legs, pressing her drenched core to my abdomen.

That I love you too.

Darling… I want you to know that one of the things that Sarada listed…” She pulled at my hair to make me look at her irises again, staring me down, stating that her next words are quite important.

They say that there is a thin line between true love and stupidity…

“…she wants a baby brother…”

…I don’t know where we fall Sakura. But, who cares, right?

I narrowed my eyes mischievously, enjoying that flustered expression she had on her face, “oh really now.” I smirked.

We just love.

My hand moved on its own, searing every inch of skin it fondled.

“I love you Sasuke-kun…” She proclaimed once again.

These words are left unsaid yet you understand.

But before my lone hand wandered to the area where it would minister miracles (as she describes it)it folded into an all too familiar hand sign to give Sakura’s forehead a light tap.

That’s the reason why I chose you.

And it will always be you…


a/n: haha hope you guys enjoyed it. Been loving these two for a decade and thank heavens they’re canon. Don’t you think so too?

Nemesis Mine

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Chapter 8. Baz.

The first thing I notice when I wake up is that for once, I’m not cold. I’m about to fall contentedly back into sleep when I hear soft breaths next to me, and my eyes fly open. Simon. I’m on his bed, and he has his arms wrapped around my waist, the top of his head tucked under my chin. I smile and inhale deeply (yes, I’m smelling his hair) (no, that’s not weird).

I wonder what the time is, but I don’t want to move. Today is Sunday, and I’m desperately hoping I won’t have any superhero assignments. I don’t want to have to lie to him so soon into our relationship.

I sigh, lifting a hand to stroke his hair gently. I don’t want to think about that now. Whatever eventually happens between us, however he reacts when he finds out (or, more likely, when I’m forced to break up with him to protect my family’s secret), I’ll deal with it when I have to.

Simon stirs, lifting his head and meeting my eyes. His nose brushes against mine and he smiles.

‘Hey, Baz.’ His voice is still thick with sleep.

‘Hey,’ I whisper back, tugging my fingers through a knot. I love his hair, especially when it’s messy like this after he’s just woken up.

‘Can we just stay here all day?’ he says.

‘No,’ I say. ‘We still have to study.’

‘Who cares about that,’ he mumbles, and moves one hand from my waist to cup my cheek. He kisses me softly. ‘We can do this instead.’

My mouth quirks up at the corners. ‘Mm. Tempting, but…’

He doesn’t let me finish, deepening the kiss. I close my eyes, feeling my whole body responding to his touch, melting into him.

‘You’re very persuasive,’ I say, when I’m able to get a word in.

He says nothing, just keeps kissing me, though I feel him smirk. I pull him closer.

*

We don’t spend all of Sunday snogging on his bed. Eventually Simon gets hungry, and we decide to get dressed and go searching for breakfast. I wait for him at the entrance to the building and as soon as we step outside he reaches for my hand. He swings our hands between us as we walk to the nearest café on-campus.

Simon is obsessed with their sour cherry scones. I order my coffee and insist on buying his breakfast. He smiles at me as he accepts the bag.

‘Does that make this our first date? Since you paid?’

I roll my eyes. ‘We come here at least four times a week, I don’t think this counts.’

He pouts. ‘Fine. But I want to go on a proper date with you. Lunch. Or dinner. Or dessert. I don’t care.’

I nudge him with my elbow. ‘You don’t care, as long as it involves food.’

He nudges me back. ‘No, as long as it involves you.’

I raise an eyebrow to let him know how cheesy I think he’s being, but neither of us is fooled, maybe because I can’t resist leaning over and kissing him on the cheek, right on one of his moles (I love his moles. I could map them out in my sleep.).

‘Is this okay?’ I ask, drawing away.

‘What?’

‘This. Us. Holding hands and me kissing you in public.’ I glance around. No-one’s even looking at us. I see a girl from one of our lectures walk past and she only gives us a knowing smile. (Were we really that obvious?)

‘Yeah,’ Simon says, still grinning up at me. ‘Are you okay with it?’

‘Of course.’

‘Good, because I’m going to brag to everyone that posh and pretentious smart-arse Baz is dating me.’

‘Pretentious?’ I say, stopping in front of our building. A few more steps and I would have him backed against the brick wall.

He blushes. ‘Well, you are.’

I frown.

‘You are! You iron all your shirts and you wear designer jeans all the time.’

I step closer and lower my voice. ‘So you’ve been looking at my jeans.’

He turns a darker shade of red and shoves me away with the hand that isn’t holding the bag of scones. ‘Oh, sod off, Baz.’

I laugh and grab his hand, lifting it up to kiss the back of his knuckles. He leads me back into the building and towards the stairwell.

It’s only the first day, and it’s perfect.

*

The second day is just as perfect. We have to go to classes, and Simon’s falling behind after a weekend spent with no study (which is his fault really), but sitting together in the middle of the lecture hall somehow makes it feel more real. I’m left-handed and he’s right-handed which lets us hold hands the entire time. I discover that Simon is extremely fond of holding hands.

He keeps sneaking glances at me throughout the lecture. I don’t think he’s paying attention at all. I try my best to focus, but I end up having to restrain myself from doodling his name all over my notes. (I’ve got to at least save some dignity.)

I’m eyeing the clock, waiting for the last two minutes to tick by so we can go back to our room and get some privacy, when he nudges me and slides over his notebook. I see my name doodled in the margins, over and over again. He’s blushing madly, and he hides his face in my shoulder.

I slide my notebook next to his, so he can see that I’ve done the exact same thing (despite my best efforts). I uncap my pen and write two more words in the bottom corner of the page: we match.

Simon looks up and grins at me.

I smile back. I like us like this.

One Last Time

Title: One Last Time
Pairing:
Stiles Stilinski/Reader
Type:
Fluff/Angst/Smut
Word Count: 2k
Warnings:
Sad moments, swearing, angst-y af, and some smut for y’all nasties
A/N: I decided to write this to join in on @rememberstilinski‘s Lacrosse Week. I hope it’s good. I wanted to dive deep into backstory and detail so let me know what you think and if you guys wanna see more fics with this format.

Originally posted by deathcabjenny

It was your first day at Beacon Hills High School. Your parents decided to pack up and move before your Junior year started meaning saying goodbye to all your already high school friends and dreading making new ones. The school near your new house didn’t seem to be too bad and was very into a sport called Lacrosse. You’ve never heard of it but when the first game came around, you decided to go to try and meet some players and fellow students. 

On the night of the game, you asked your parents for a ride to school so you could watch the game. They gladly agreed thinking that you had a ton of friends you were meeting up with. You didn’t want to burst their bubble so you went along with it the entire ride to campus. 

The game had just started when you got to the bleachers to find a seat. There was a small spot open near the bottom and you took it, not wanting to be stuck up too high with no view of the game or the players. The crowd began to cheer on certain player numbers as the game started. You just kind of awkwardly sat there, trying to go unnoticed. It was a pretty easy game to understand and you weren’t against liking it. 

Soon enough there was a few moments left in the game and you noticed a certainly incredible player running past every person and making the winning shot at the last second. You were impressed but also very tired. You lightly yawned as everyone in the bleachers scatters towards the players. You look around and decide to head out to the parking lot, while you wait for you parents to get you. 

“The stars look really beautiful tonight.” A voice says behind you causing you to whip your head to see where it came from. A boy with ruffled hair and deep brown eyes who seemed about your age stood there, gazing up at the stars. 

“Y-yeah, they are.” You glance up as you reply but quickly look back at the parking lot, searching for our parents’ car. 

“I’m Stiles. Or 24 as my jersey states.” He chuckled awkwardly which comforted you a bit knowing he was just as nervous to talk to you as you were him. 

“Y/N.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I think I have you in my English class.” He remembered. 

You simply nodded before noticing your parents has pulled into the parking lot. You and Stiles said your goodbyes and promised to sit together at lunch on Monday. 


After a few months of being friends with Stiles, he asked you if you wanted to come over to his house while his dad was at work for a movie night. It was basically a date and you honestly were very excited for it.

You walked the few blocks from your house to Stiles’. You knocked on the door and within seconds, Stiles opened it up with a huge grin on his face. He lead you upstairs to his bedroom where you noticed he already had some snacks prepared and a movie ready to play on his laptop. 

You blushed at how much trouble he went to make this first date fun and comfortable for you. 

“I picked Star Wars but if you don’t want to watch it, we can find something else.” He rambled, obviously nervous.

“It’s perfect.” You smiled which calmed him down almost instantly. 

He crawled onto the bed and patted the spot next to him where you eagerly crawled to as he propped the laptop on a small table over his legs, angled to where both of you had a clear view of the screen. The movie started and while Stiles was glued to the screen you were focused on Stiles himself. His eyes lit up watching the movie and you adored it. Your eyes fell to his lips and all you wanted to do was kiss him but for all you knew, this could’ve just been another friendly movie night to him. 

Once the end credits began, he closed the laptop and place the table on the ground before turning in your direction to see you asleep. He laughed but then just stared at how your lips pouted in your sleep and how perfectly your hair fell around and on your face. He poked your cheek, waking you up. 

“Hmm?” You squinted your eyes and looked around, realizing you were still at Stiles’. “Oh, shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to fall aslee-” Stiles cut you off quickly by crashing his lips into yours and you didn’t hesitate to follow the movements of his mouth. You both pulled away with your eyes still shut, taking in the bliss of each others’ taste. 

“I’ve honestly wanted to do that for so long.” He whispered against your lips. 

“Then do it again.” You gripped his bottom lip between your teeth, earning a deep groan from him.

He rolled over on top of you and kissed you harder than before. There was more need than love in this kiss and you didn’t mind it one bit.


Finally, graduation was approaching and your relationship with Stiles hit a hard bump in the road. He had decided to go to college in the East while you wanted to go North. The state universities you both were going to attend were practically across the map from each other. You could never do a long-distance relationship and neither could Stiles. You both were too physical and clingy for it to ever work out. You were going to be moving to a new state right after you graduated but Stiles wanted you to stay until the end of summer, right before classes would start but you were too eager to get out of your parents house. 

“Y/N, will you please reconsider staying a bit longer? I just want a few more months with you.” He pleaded.

“Stiles, I already put down a payment on an apartment out there. I’m due to move in within two weeks. If I don’t, I’ll lose the room.”

“I know…I just don’t want to let you go yet.” His voice rose a bit. 

“You think I want to say goodbye to you? Do you actually think this is any easier for me for to say goodbye to my best friend and boyfriend?” 

“Well you seem so fucking eager to leave me and everyone behind to start a new life across the country. We haven’t even had sex in a few months due to you planning your move and figuring out everything while I’ve been here just wanting to have as many last moments with you as I can before you say fuck it and leave me forever.” He practically yelled.

“You’re an asshole, Mieczyslaw.” Your voice cracked before you turned to walk towards your car and drove home. You thanked God that your parents were home to ask you a million questions so you ran up into your room and slammed the door shut. Tears were unstoppable as they gushed down you cheeks while you gathered up all of Stiles’ stuff. As you were throwing old t-shirts and gifts into a box, you found an his backup lacrosse jersey that he gave to you a while back. You froze before taking off your top and putting on the oversize jersey. Your heart dropped as you remembered the day that he let you have this.


You shivered in his car as he drove you home from the town carnival. Stiles soon enough noticed the goosebumps on your arms.

“You cold, baby?” He asked softly.

“A little. But I’m fine, really.” You lightly smiled at him. Before you could object he reached around his seat and grabbed a lacrosse jersey, handing it to you. 

“Stiles, I said I’m fine.”

“No buts. Take it. I can tell your about to become a popsicle.”

You happily accepted the jersey and slid it onto your torso. It was warm and smelt of Stiles cheap cologne. As he reached your house, you went to pull off the jersey but Stiles quickly stopped you.

“Keep it. Wear it to bed so it feels like I’m there with you, keeping you warm.” He leaned over the console and kissed you before you got out of the car and went inside.


A knock on the door pulled you out of your mind. 

“Go away.” You shouted but the door still opened. You looked up expecting your mom or dad but it was Stiles who stood in the doorway, tears filled his eyes as he looked at your body, noticing you were wearing his jersey.

“Your parents let me in.” His voice gravelly from crying.

“I don’t want to talk to you, Stiles.”

“Then just listen. I know that you’re leaving and I have to accept that. I know that long distance isn’t going to work for us but I love you with all my heart, Y/N.” He sat down next to you and took your hand in his. “Graduation is next week and you’ll be gone the day after but I was just hoping for one last time. One last kiss. One last touch. One last taste before you go.” 

You didn’t respond, only leaned in and gave him a passionate kiss. Soon enough, he kiss deepened and Stiles crawled on top of you, pushing you down on the bed. Your hands found his gelled hair and gently pulled on his causing Stiles to moan into the kiss. One hand held him above you but he decided to glide the other down your body until he reached your shorts. He fumbled with the buttons a bit before undoing them and wiggling his hand inside but still outside your panties. Your breathing hitched as he pushed his digits onto your clit, rubbing slow circles. You pulled away from the kiss and threw your head back. Stiles attached his lips to your neck, sucking and biting at the skin. He pulled his hand out and kneeled up, undoing his own jeans. His erection was straining in his briefs but you decided to tease him more. You pushed him down onto his back and straddled him. He smirked, loving when you took control. You ground yourself against him, earning a deep moan. 

“Shh, we gotta be quiet. My parents are downstairs, remember.” You whispered next to his ear. 

You got off of him for a quick second to take off your shorts before crawling back on top of him. You reached into his briefs and pulled out his erection, stroking it painfully slow. 

“Y/N…fuck, please don’t tease me. I need to feel you.” He whimpered.

You rose up on your knees, pushing your panties to the side and aligning him with your entrance. You slid down on top of him while you bit your lip, suppressing moans as best you could. His hands gripped your hips as you began to rock on top of him. You slid the jersey above you chest, giving his access to your breasts. He kept one hand on your hips, helping you find a good rhythm while the other gripped your tits, kneading them hard. He thrusted upwards, meeting you half way to help get deeper inside you. 

“God, Y/N, you feel so good.” He grunted.

“Stiles, I’m close. Fuck, I’m so close.”

“Me too, baby. Just let go.” 

Just like that, you were clenching around his and your legs were shaking. He lifted you off of him and wrapped his hand around himself, finishing on both of your guys’ stomachs. You both were panting messes. Stiles reached behind your bed frame and pulled out a towel before wiping up the mess he made on the both of you.

“Good thing you didn’t move this.” He chuckled. You slid your shirt down as you got up and pulled you shorts back on while Stiles tucked himself back in his pants, re-buttoning them.

Once you were both dressed again, you crawled into his arms and just laid there for a while. You looked up at him and kissed his cheek.

“I love you, Mieczyslaw.”

“I love you more, Y/N.”

Sleep in my sweater P2

Part One Here 

Pairing: Sam x reader 
Characters: Sam, Dean, the reader, mention of Cas 
Warnings: light swearing, reference to boyking!sam, a little angst
Word count: 1460
Summary: The reader wakes up, still wearing Sam’s sweatshirt, and decides to go to breakfast alone with the younger Winchester. With the threat of Lilith impending and her feelings for Sam only growing, who knows what she’ll end up doing. 
Tag list: @amanda-teaches @samwinchesterblog @spnfanficpond @myplaceofthingsilove @spectaculicious @bambinovak @writingthingsisdifficult @cleverdame @aliensdeservebetter @samwinchesterfluffandsmut @samwinchesterfanfiction-blog @saxxxology @mamaredd123 dancingpanda137
A/N: I took another mini writing break but, again, I’m back! Also I’m thinking of turning this into a longer series and maybe include Lilith + some twists- I’d really like to know what you guys think about that. I’ve never done an actually long series before (like 6+ parts) and not gonna lie I’m a little skeptical/nervous about it. So, just tell me your thoughts and I’ll see if I actually do it or not! Okay, peace out, I hope you enjoy:)<3

Masterlist Here!

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I Want You to be Safe

Hey there, you lovely people!  

Because General Hoff is my new favorite thing (and can there really be too much General Hoff? LOL I think not). Sooo I had to write a fic about it (and Hiccstrid), of course!

Shoutout to @dragonlovertr for this idea and also being the one I send all my rough drafts to LOL. What would I ever do without you, girl? <3 

Also, there is a scene in here that I based off of @tarched new and AMAZING General Hofferson fanart. Thanks for letting me use it, buddy! 

Originally posted by tarched

Hope you guys enjoy this! 


Astrid strode out of the Haddock house and wrapped her arms around herself. Winter was officially here and it was getting colder by the minute. 

She walked down the many steps that led into the village and began searching for the new chief. The girl strolled past buildings and houses that were finally rebuilt. There was still some ice here and there, but Berk was finally starting to look like it used to…before Drago Bludvist. 

As she made her way through the village, some of the fellow Vikings smiled at her and some gave her an annoyed look. Change was difficult for some. So, losing their chief and getting used to a new one was hard for many. She was getting the same looks now, with the announcement of her new role. It didn’t bother Astrid at all, not like it seemed to trouble Hiccup. She would tell him not to worry, that it will take time to earn their trust. He would agree but she could tell it still ate at him a little. 

The girl spotted Eret heading up to the Great Hall. 

“Eret!” Astrid called from the bottom of the steps.  

He turned around, “Astrid?” 

“Have you seen Hiccup?” 

Eret stood in thought for a moment, his hand on his chin, “I think the last time I saw him, he was flying down to the docks.” He pointed in the direction, like Astrid wouldn’t know where the docks were. 

“Thanks!” Astrid turned back around and headed that way. 

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Here is a nice top!Baek drabble (from TAOGU) for a lovely person who asked for this on AFF. Hope you enjoy it!


He’s thrown against the wall, pressed into it, hands pinned beside his head. He bites his bottom lip and lets his head thud against the wall, the lips working at his neck feel way too good. When his arms are released his hands slowly slide down, unbuckle his belt and rip it from the loops, letting the leather fall to the floor. He moans when his shirt is tugged roughly up his body, over his head and thrown to the side. It’s hot, too hot, and he’s so turned on and needy and he cant catch his breath.

“Fuck me Yeol,” he moans as teeth sink into his shoulder, “oh god, fuck me!”

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