• The way Fenris’s hair is so fluffy over his pointed ears and how it sways when he teases about practicing his flattery
• The look he gives Hawke when he says that he’d never wanted anyone before Hawke and that things might be different with him
• The deadpan manner in which he jokes with Varric
• That heartbreakingly sad and vulnerable smile on his face when Hawke says, “I’m here, Fenris,” when Fenris thinks he’s all alone
• His adorable friendships with Sebastian, Donnic, and Aveline
• The way his ears glow (the way all of him glows, really, but look at his glowing ears in cutscenes! So cute!)
• The way he caresses Hawke’s face
• That look of hope on his face when he first sees Varania and recalls a fragment of a happy memory of her
• Those very full and very kissable lips of his
• Those bold, expressive eyebrows
• The way his bangs hide his eyes when he’s feeling vulnerable and self-conscious
• His dry sarcasm and wit
• The way his eyes light up and he smiles when Hawke suggests giving him a few more problems
• The way he finds happiness, love, and a home when he thought he never would
The first picture was drawn in june… I am so glad how Keiths hair developed. From angry Emo Mullet… to the glorious fluffy cute Mullet we all love. Lance developed from asshole fuckboy… to a beauty prince. Also Hunk finally got a few pounds more on his glorious body and … yeah everybody else looks better as well. Sorry for not drawing Shiro for a comparison… I was lazy :D
2016 was not the best year ever, but at least I can be proud of my improvement.
YOU THOUGHT I WAS DONE TALKING ABOUT THIS GUESS WHAT IM NOT!!!!
Can we talk about the fact that his hair looked so magically fluffy and his face looked so lovely and well rested. Can we talk about how excited he probably was to know that he actually surprised us cause no one knew he was there till he was on stage ??!!!!?! Or the fact that he’s wearing a fucking bedazzled leather jacket over a GUCCI hoodie. Or most importantly THE FACT THAT HE TOOK TIME OUT OF WORKING ON HIS SOLO MATERIAL TO ACCEPT AN AWARD FOR ONE DIRECTION AMD THEN PROCEEDED TO CONFESS HIS UNDYING LOVE FOR ONE DIRECTION AND THE FANS.
Anonymous asks: hi how are you? I am so obsessed with your story’s could you write one where you’re cooking with newt and you’re making cinnamon rolls? And like manye when they’re making icing they could get into a bit of a food fight? LIT JUST CINNAMON AND FLUFF EVERYWHERE!!!
WARNINGS: You will die by the hands of cinnamon rolls and fluff. It’s been nice knowing you. Also take a sec to look at the perfect gif. LOOK. AT. NEWTS HAIR AND JACOBS ADORABLE FACE. FREAKING LOOK.
A Christmas Eve Story~
It was Saturday morning. The sun was casting a warm glow on you and you felt refreshed. It was a cold winter morning, and you were quite glad of the warm beam of light. You smiled as you remembered that today was Christmas Eve.
You allowed yourself to revel in the thought of no work and spending time at home with your husband. Thinking of your love, you rolled over only to find the other side empty. You wondered where Newt was.
You forced yourself to get your lazy butt out of bed and shuffle around to the bathroom. The floor was cold, and made you skip around in search of your socks.
Once you had gotten socks, you went to the bathroom and washed your face up. You put on a lose red dress and brushed your curls. After a few minutes of all that, you hopped out of the room in search of Newt.
A spicy smell created your nose as you walked down the hall, the heater blowing on you gently, making you feel extra cozy. “Whatcha doing?” You asked Newt as you entered the kitchen.
Newt was mixing something up in a bowl. “I’m making cinnamon rolls,” he said absentmindedly. He flipped a page in the cookbook. “The muggle way…” He seemed a little stressed the way he said “the muggle way”.
“No-maj,” You giggled, wrapping your arms lovingly around Newt’s waist from behind. You and Newt often argued on the term for a person with no magical powers.
Newt smiled and said, “Make yourself useful, love, and get me the vanilla, please?” He watched you make your way to the cabinet, swinging your hips a little along to the Christmas music on the radio. “You look lovely!” He smiled wryly and cocked his head to the side.
You smiled as you got out the vanilla extract. “Newt,” you said in a matter of fact way. “You smell like cinnamon spice!” You grinned at him, pleased with your accusations.
Newt just raised his eyebrow, giving you that deadpan look that he often used for his niffler. “I smell like what?”
You giggled and stole a kiss from Newt. “I said you. Smell. Like. Cinnamon. Spice!” You said slowly.
“Er, wait, you’re aware of how I smell?” Newt looked bashfully down at you. He took the vanilla and poured a bit into the dough.
You laughed as you watched Newt stir the bowl and then pour some flour onto the counter as he dumped the dough out and began to flatten it with a roller. “Newt! Don’t be ridiculous! We share the same bed!” You paused and smirked at him. “And when we cuddle, or kiss, or anything with physical contact, I can just smell it.”
Newt looked hard at cooking dough as he flattened it our, his ears bright red with embarrassment. “I see,” was all he said. He turned to you, where you were hovering around mindlessly. “Hold up, you’re in my way, love.” He picked you up and set you on the counter, just inches away from the soon to be cinnamon rolls.
You watched the blushing Newt spread melted butter on the dough and then sprinkle brown sugar and cinnamon spice onto it. He blushed a little more when he did the cinnamon spice. “D-does it, I mean, do I smell too terribly odd?”
Your smirk grew. “Not at all. You smell… Really good,” you paused for dramatic effect and then roared sillily, “I could gobble you up!”
Newt gave you an amuse look, as he rolled the dough and then skillfully cut it, laying the pretty slices on a pan. “I bet you wouldn’t stand a chance,” he teased back, putting the pan into the oven and then dusting his hands.
You blinked and said curiously, “What do you mean?”
You were about to hop on down, but Newt placed his hands on either side of the counter, trapping you. “I would eat you up before you could take a bite of me!” Newt said, charmingly and smiling at you. He gave you a quick kiss before unblocked you.
You blushed. His kiss left you wanting more. It was simple and sweet but what he said implied a little more than just sweet. Something more spicy. “C-can I help you with making the icing,” you gushed, trying to remain sane and keeping your mind away from what Newt said.
Newt nodded, handing you some powder sugar. “Jacob told me to only add a little bit of water, when making the icing,” Newt instructed. He carefully filled a measuring cup full of water, while you scooped powder sugar into a bowl.
“I wanna pour the water in, please,” you said. A small idea had crept into your mind. As you poured the water slowly into the bowl, you began to stir it. Newt observed the process with very enthusiastic eyes. Concentrating hard on the mixture and not aware of your smirk. You dipped your finger into the mixture and then smeared some on Newt’s cheek.
Newt blinked. “I beg your pardon?” He stated, touching the sticky mess with his finger. He then looked at you and smiled. With lightning speed, Newt dug his finger into the icing and then smeared it onto your forehead.
You gave a giggle of delight as you repeated the movement and slathered Newt’s nose with icing.
Newt was now laughing as well and went so far as to stick his whole hand into the bowl and smear your cheeks with the sweet mixture.
Your mouth was wide open as he had coated half your face with icing. “See how you like this, Hufflepuff Boy!” You took the cinnamon spice bowl and dashed a handful onto Newt, who began to cough from the finely grounded spice.
Newt took the icing bowl and dipped his thumb into the bowl. He smudged the icing onto your lip and then grabbed your waist and pulled you in for a kiss, licking the icing on your lips.
You gave a muffled squeak, to which Newt took to his advantage and plunged his now sweet tongue into your mouth, spreading the sweet flavor of icing and cinnamon spice into your mouth.
The two of you were it interrupted by a timer going off. Newt broke the kiss and put some mittens on. “Love, can you make some new icing?” He said hastily, as he took out the hot pan.
What you really wanted was another kiss, but you made some fresh icing. The room was filled with a new scent of freshly baked cinnamon rolls. Newt took the icing and drizzled it expertly on the hot rolls. You watched him patiently drizzle each roll with precision. After he was done he took one of the hot cinnamon rolls and cut it in half. He took one of the half and said, “Open wide.”
You opened your mouth and accepted then sweet treat. It was warm and tasted like Christmas. You took one bite of it, literally one, and then Newt smashed his lips onto yours, gently shoving you against the counter. Forcing his tongue into your startled mouth, he began to steal bits of the cinnamon roll from you. Once you realized what Newt was doing you gripped his head with your hands, fighting back and trying to steal the treat from him.
The kiss was hot, messy, and sweet, as the two of you lip-locked, fought for the cinnamon roll. Newt was surprisingly aggressive. Normally if it came to fighting over something, he’d just let you have it because he knew you wanted it more. But Newt now, was fighting, not willing to give up for anything. Exhausted, you finally surrendered and allowed Newt to take the remaining dissolving pieces from your mouth.
Newt pulled away, gasping for air. “Whoa,” Newt sighed, tired just as well as you. “That took more effort than I thought.” He gave you a sheepish adorable look.
“Yeah. We could go back to bed,” You suggested. “It’s Christmas Eve and still early. Besides, the rolls need to cool off!” You sounded way to eager and awake to “go back to sleep”.
Newt looked at you, knowing exactly what you wanted. Smirking, he lifted you up bridal style. “Fine, only because it’s Christmas Eve,” He laughed, rubbing his head against yours and slowly making his way to your room.
You laughed back as the two of you entered your room. Newt gently threw you to the bed. You giggled and pulled Newt close. “Stop acting like you don’t want this, Lover-boy!” You paused and smirked. “Besides you smell amazing. Like cinnamon spice.”
Hope you liked this! Keep an eye out for my Christmas Day story coming out tomorrow!
And yes you may reblog, please but don’t repost (I say this over again, repost and reblog are different) without my permission.
The boy has yellow hair, fluffy as a newly-hatched Pidgey, and he’s
staring at the sky. “Hey kid,” Zenna says, “you need to get
inside. Storm’s a-coming.”
He doesn’t turn his head; he says, “I’ve lost my baby,” while
still scanning the low-hanging sky. The corners of his mouth quaver.
Fuck. Zenna’s terrible with children; she never knows how to stop
them from crying. Pokemon are so much easier.
“Your starter?” Zenna says: the boy looks about ten. Maybe. It’s
hard to say. Locktown is a city built on crumbling industry, gouged
by poverty, crouched in the shadows of the Zapdos Mountains – which
jag up from the earth like the spine of a starved beast. It’s a hard
land, and it’s inhabitants are hungry more often than not. This
little one has sharp collarbones and pointed cheeks. Zenna pulls a
chocolate bar from her pocket, unwraps it slowly.
At the crinkle, the boy’s head snaps around. His eyes are huge. “My
baby,” he says again, “my Fearow.”
“Your –” his what.
Fearows are savage bastards at the best of times, too much for all
but the most hardy of trainers – more trouble than they’re worth
half the time. “Your Fearow,” she says. The boy nods. He’s
staring at the chocolate bar. Zenna throws it over. He fumbles the
catch, snatches it up from the ground, doesn’t bother to brush the
dirt off before cramming it in his mouth.
“Baby,” he says, “'cos Mama
didn’t have any but me and she used to call me her Baby but she’s
gone now so I’m the grown-up and he’s the Baby, see? He’s mine, he’s
flown off, it’s the storm, you know?”
“You should get inside,” Zenna
says, as the wind starts up. It’s bitter and spangled with ice.
“Where do you live?”
“Uh – “ the boy says, “uh,
see, there was Mama’s house only last week our landlord finally
realised that we weren’t paying rent anymore and kicked us out –
Baby would have stuck up for me but it isn’t worth it to fight them,
no one can fight them, Giovanni would –” and his voice cuts off.
He wipes a patina of snot on the back of his hand. “Mama always
said to trust in my instincts so I did, I ran and I took Baby and ran
and now I’m – I’m sleeping here,” and with one waved hand he
encompasses their surroundings: wind-blasted fields, tumbledown
factors, the wreckage of a once-prosporous town.
“You’re sleeping rough?”
“Yeah. Mama says – said –
trust my instincts and they’re saying not to go back to Locktown.”
“It’s a dangerous place. Here, why
don’t I help you find Baby?”
“Would you?” The kid’s face
lights up. “Thanks miss!”
“Call me Zenna,” says Zenna,
“Zenna Embers. Here,” and she throws a Pokeball. Her Charizard,
Candela (named for her baby sister; they have the same irascible, demanding temperament; it seems only right), emerges in a flare of white light: the boy coos in
admiration, and Zenna resists the temptation to preen. “Right
Inferno! We’re looking for a Fearow –”
It all happens very quickly after
that. A mighty roar of thunder shakes the earth. Lightning rends the
sky apart with greedy, crooked fingers. Thunder answers the
lightning, lightning answers the thunder, and in a heartbeat Zenna is
in the middle of the worst storm she has ever known. Rain pounds down
like the fists of a vengeful god, cold and punishing. Candela lifts
his wings, intending to shelter her; but all this rain is worse for
him, so she recalls him and screams, “Kid!” over the howl of the
wind. “We’ve got to get to shelter! We’ve – “
Words snatched from her throat. The
boy stands in a corona of light so bright it hurts to look at. There
is a Zapdos on his shoulders. Its wings are arced over his head,
shielding him from the downpour; the rain fizzles into steam against
the lightning of its feathers.
And just like that the storm clears.
Heavy grey clouds peel back to reveal the brilliance of a blue sky.
And the kid says, “Baby! You worried me.”
The Zapdos – the Zapdos, god
of lightning and god of the mountains and and and – nuzzles
his head. He laughs in delight. “This is my friend,” he says,
“Zenna,” and Zenna can barely breathe as the – god of
thunder and bird of light and power and – regards
her with two ferocious eyes. She resists the temptation to knee; it’s
a primal, absurdist notion; but she’s faced with a myth,
an actual honest-to-gods myth.
“That’s not a Fearow – it’s a
Zapdos “ she says.
“Of course it’s a Fearow,” the boy
chirrups, “got the pointy feathers and everything. Thought you were a trainer, you should know that sort of thing.”
“Uh,” says Zenna.
“Oh, where are my manners?” the
boy continues, grinning and petting the Zapdos’s chest. “My name’s
Spark. Nice to meet you!”
It was a normal Saturday, when it happened. Y/N was in one of his flannels, working on one of her many paintings, hands covered in different colors of paint, some dried, and some still very much wet. Her hair was a mess, and his flannel was way too big on her, but Remus couldn’t help but think how adorable she looked, her brow furrowing and her lips pursing as she worked to get the perfect blend on the canvas. A stray hair fell into her her face and she brushed it away, leaving a trail of blue paint across her forehead. “Um darling, you’ve got a little,” Remus chuckled, motioning to her forehead and drawing her attention away from her artwork. “Huh?” She asked, reaching up and feeling the wet paint. “Oh.” She took a deep breath and looked around. A lot more time had passed than she’d expected. Suddenly, she stood up and grabbed Remus’ hand, smearing cold paint along his palm as she did so. He didn’t mind. He’d learned long ago that Y/N was different, in the best of ways. He just chuckled and let her drag him to whatever had captured her attention.
Remus had known from the very beginning that Y/N was special. Aside from her being absolutely beautiful, she had this aura of kindness that drew him to her before they even met. He’d watched her around the school, amazed by how she never turned down a request for help. He’d used that to his advantage when he worked up the courage to talk to her. “I can’t help but notice you’ve always got a new book with you, could you recommend one to me?” He had asked her. She gladly suggested her favorite to him, and when he finished, they discussed the book, and then more books, and next thing they knew, Remus was taking her on picnics and hogsmead dates. As he got to know her better, Remus learned that Y/N had a secret obsession with painting, and he loved how she saw the beauty in everything, even him with his condition. Especially him. She was the most accepting, loving, compassionate person-
“Babe,” Y/N snapped him out of his thoughts, her pace stopping abruptly. “Look at that,” she was pointing to something in the distance, but he couldn’t help but look at her. Her hair was all over the place after the run, his flannel that she was wearing was much too large and slipping over her shoulder, leaving it bare, she was covered in paint, and she was still so beautiful. Her eyes were glittering with excitement as she stared at whatever it was that had caught her attention. “Rem, seriously, look!” She exclaimed, pointing behind him. “’M sorry love, ’s just… you’re so beautiful,” he sighed, pulling her in for a kiss. She pecked his lips quickly and pulled away. “Thank you. Now look!” She squealed, turning him around. Remus was met with the sun setting above the forest, the sky shining with vibrant pinks and purples and blues.
It was, indeed, very beautiful, and different than how the sunsets at the school usually looked like-but maybe it wasn’t. Who could pay attention to the sunset when Y/N was around, shining more bright and more beautiful than anything the sky had to offer? “Merlin, look at those colors, so perfect together, and that little bit of light peeking through the trees…” Y/N rambled excitedly and Remus turned and watched her. He loved how she saw everything as art, and the way her eyes lit up when she was sharing her thoughts. She could turn anything in front of her into a masterpiece, and Remus admired that deeply. She could make others see the beauty in the world, and as someone who hated who he was and how he looked, Remus appreciated that as well.
It was a normal Saturday, when it happened. Y/N was staring up at the sky as the sun set, her hair messy, the flannel she was wearing was engulfing her small frame, and her little hands and face were smeared with paint. “I love you,” Remus blurted, causing the small girl to take her eyes away from the sky and look at him. He worried for a moment, if it was too soon, if he shouldn’t have said anything- but then a smile broke out on her face and she closed the gap between them and kissed his lips softly. “I love you, too, Rem.” She rested her head against his chest and looked back at the darkening sky as the sun dipped into the trees. “More than the sunset,” Remus heard her murmur, and he smiled. It was a normal Saturday, it happened. Remus was holding the most amazing girl he’d ever known in his arms. They were watching the sunset after a long day of painting and bad jokes. They had just told each other that they loved each other for the first time, but Remus had loved her for much longer before that. Remus couldn’t have been happier. It was a normal Saturday when Remus realized that Y/N was the one.
A/N: Sorry it’s super short, but I hope you guys love it anyway! Thank you for being patient with me while I’ve been sick the past couple of days, and thank you to everyone who voted for who the imagine was about. If you voted for Sirius or Draco, fret not, because I am already working on a new Draco imagine, and Sirius Black is the love of my life, so I assure you, there will be plenty of him in the future as well. Thank you for reading, I love you! ♡♡♡
Would you write a oneshot of the imagine you posted of the reader getting horny seeing stiles in his lacrosse uniform please?
A/N: Sorry I haven´t written smut in a while but I did my best!
Warnings: trash writing, smutty smut, kind of dom!stiles, actually really dom!stiles but in the good way I guess, some fluff
I grinned down proudly at the boy with number 24. Stiles had made 4 goals, by now, he was the hero of the night. I was the loudest to cheer whenever he hit it, and it certainly boasted his self-esteem. I couldn’t help but think about how hot he looked in his uniform… His hair was a mess, his cheeks flushed and he wore that one special grin that made my insides clench.
He made the fifth goal 5 seconds before the game was over, Beacon Hills won. I jumped up along with Kira and Lydia, even forgetting about the sign I made for him, I just wanted to be close to him. The other players congratulated him by patting his shoulder and shouting out their favorite goal he made. My big smile didn’t leave my face once. I knew Stiles hadn’t been the best player right from the start, but just like I always told him; he was an extrodinary player, he just needed more confidence.
And to be honest confidence made him look even hotter. Especially in red… The other guys cheered when I jumped into his arms and kissed him. It was an innocent and sweet kiss at first, but it quickly became more heated. Had Stiles been a werewolf, he would’ve smelled my arousal. We only seperated when someone next to us cleared his throat.
“You guys are coming to the party right?”, Scott asked smiling.
“Good. You did great Stiles.”, Scott reassured him with his famous puppy eyes.
“Thanks bud.”, Stiles grinned. We followed Scott and Kira into the locker room, but I didn’t wait outside like usual, and I stopped him from walking towards the showers.
“Let’s just go to the party okay? You can have a shower afterwards.”, I smiled and he nodded.
“It was more of coincidence, really. I don’t even know how I made the last one.”, Stiles informed me excitedly. I nodded and bit my lip, pretending to listen. I thought I could simply forget my hormones, but apparently I was wrong.
“Stiles, can we leave?”, I interrupted him. He frowned and raised his eyebrows at me.
“But the party? We won Y/N, why would-”
“Because right now I’m incredibly horny and I need you.”, I interrupted him and didn’t even hide the fact that my eyes were glued to a certain part of him.
“Oh- oh my god. Please let this be real.”, he mumbled when I took his hand and guided him out of the house. He snapped out of his daze when I leaned against the jeep and pulled him against me, bringing him in for a kiss. I enjoyed him taking control of the situation. Stiles was a naturally sweet person, and the confidence he showed didn´t make him any less appealing.
He licked my bottom lip, asking for entrance, and I refused, just to see his reaction. He growled and bit my lip, my gasp giving him the possibility to slip his tongue in my mouth. I put my hands around his neck and tried to pull him even closer. He picked me up and I quickly wrapped my legs around him, letting out a sigh when he bucked his hips against mine.
“What was that princess?”, he whispered huskily into my ear as his hand began to fondle my ass. I let out a whimper and desperately bucked my hips against him in an attempt to get more friction. I felt him smirk into the kiss and god, it turned me on. He started to trail kisses down my neck and I finally stopped him just when he was about to reach my chest.
“Home.”, I managed to get out and he nodded before he reluctantly pulled back and opened the door for me. I smiled and got in, waiting for him to do the same.
The drive was silent, until I decided to make it a little more interesting. I put my hand on his shoulder first, giving him a smile that he returned. When he focused back on the street I let my hand glide down to is thigh, stroking it slowly.
“Y/N…”, Stiles warned me with a dark voice and a glance that let me know I´d pay for this later, but right now, I didn´t care.
“Huh?”, I asked innocently. He managed to ignore me for a while, at least until I decided to move my hand again. I put it over the obvious bulge he had in his pants, rubbing soft circles on it. He let out a loud groan and I felt myself getting wetter by the second. I kept massaging his bulge, growing more confident. At the next red traffic light he didn´t hesitate to kiss me roughly and let his hand glide under the hem of my dress. He stroked my thighs softly, but he knew it wasn’t anything close to what I wanted. He moved his fingers up to my wet folds, but never went any further. I gasped surprised when he inserted one finger into me.
“Who made you this wet baby, huh?”, he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper next to my ear. I let out a loud moan as he added another finger and picked up the pace, making me unable to reply.
“Was it me? Did I make you this wet?”, he asked and I managed to nod. He chuckled darkly and stopped pumping his fingers.
“I think you can do better than that. Who made you this wet?”, he asked again but didn’t let me time to think before he dipped his fingers back into me.
“What was that?”
“You made me this wet.”, I groaned. He rewarded me with rubbing my clit softly, making me feel incredibly dizzy. He had to stop when the car behind us honked; the traffic light had been green for a while now, we simply didn’t care.
Once we arrived at my place we hurried to get inside. My mum had a business meeting over the weekend, so we wouldn’t be interrupted. I kicked off my heels and barely noticed him doing the same while I pulled off his lacrosse shirt.
“You do realise you look damn hot in that uniform?”, I asked while letting my hand roam over his chest.
“You do realise you look damn hot basically all the time and I constantly want to fuck you?”
I smiled up at him and turned to let him unzip my dress, and took it off myself. He took off his pants and I couldn’t even say something before he picked me up and threw me down on the couch.
“Why don’t we go upstairs?”, I asked and looked up at him.
“We will after round one.”, he smirked back. I licked my lips and pulled him down on me. He immediately began kissing my neck until he found my sweet spot. I turned us so I could straddle him and give him better access to my neck. He sucked on it and I involuntary bucked my hips.
“How many rounds are there?”
“You’ll find out.”
He let out a groan as he took off my bra. He stared at my breasts for a few moments.
I took his hands and put them over my breasts, reminding him that he was allowed to touch me in any way he craved. He massaged my breasts until the increasing need I felt was unignorable. I brought my hand down to his boner and grabbed it, massaging it passionately. He threw his head back and moaned, thrusting into my hand. He gently pushed me onto the couch so he could get up and take off his boxers, but once he took them off I was already kneeling in front of him.
“Oh my God you’re literally the best girlfriend ever.”, he blurted out. I smiled up at him before I licked over his tip. Feeling encouraged by his moans I swirled my tongue around his tip before I took him deeper in mouth, but not very far.
“No teasing Y/N.”, he growled and I made sure to keep eye-contact as I took him all the way down my throat. He took my hair and put it into a lose ponytail as he guided my head back and forth with his head thrown back in pleasure. It felt even more intense when he started thrusting again. I moaned at how good he tasted and he automatically thrusted harder at the vibration. He pulled me up and connected our lips again, pushing me back down on the couch.
I felt the tip of his cock teasing my entrance and tried to move against him but Stiles held me tightly, so I couldn’t move without his permission. He slowly pushed inside me, too slowly. I bucked my hips against his and he now fully filled me up. He let me some time to adjust to his size, it was neccessary. Once the pain ebbed away, it started to feel good. It felt so fucking good.
He pulled out again, very slow and I just wanted to tell him that I couldn’t take his fucking teasing anymore when he rammed back into me with a force that made me bounce off the couch and against him again.
“Stiles…”, I wimpered and he sighed into my neck. He repeated his slow torture, thrusting back very hard. I gasped, it felt so good…
“Say my name like that again.”, he demanded and I had no problem with obeying him.
He picked up the pace and grabbed my hips in order to keep me steady. I arched my back when I felt his balls rubbing over my clit, bringing me closer to my release. I sat up, letting him thrust into me at a whole other angle. We both let out noises of pleasure, enjoying the imtimacy. He sucked on my sweet spot again and I felt my stomach tighten. I closed my eyes to concentrate on all the spots Stiles hit at once, bringing me over the edge.
“Stiles!”, I screamed as my orgasm washed over me.
“Look at me.”
I tried to, but I couldn’t handle the intensity. He thrusted into me even harder and I seriously started to wonder if he was still human with a power like this.
“I said look at me.”, he repeated with a firm voice and my eyes snapped open to meet his dark gaze. He moaned at the sight of me in pure pleasure. When I was about to come down from my high, I felt him twitch inside me before he filled me up with his warm cum. I sighed at the amazing feeling. We remained like this for a few seconds, until he pulled out and flipped us over, me lying on top, so I could lay down more comfortably.
“You really like this uniform.”, he chuckled breathlessly.
“I really like you.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Stilinski.”
“Can we eat something? I want to be strong for round two.”, he grinned and I giggled and slapped his chest.
Does Taemin ever say that he likes how he looks, except for his hair?
The thing that comes fast to my mind is that he said in the past his lips were his complex, but when people started to say positive things about them, especially after he won the ranking of the most kissable lips (x)
he started to like them. He also said he believes his philtrum is the most charming part of him because it’s “soft and fluffy” (x). I agree.
[Update] About his eyes: “(It’s) embarrassing but I think my eyes are very attractive performing on stage” (x) (thanks to anon~)
“When I look at myself in the mirror after taking a shower, I think that I look good.” (x) (thanks to anon2~)